#remember when i said i cannot pick favorites to save my life? here i am

[redinkbunny]

autumn leaves, autumn sorrows

(Part 2)

Xiao recognized him before he could even notice his presence.

It was the way the wind picked up, as if carrying the content of seeing their master; it was the way music accompanied him wherever he may go, a tune too subtle for mortal ears, but to Xiao, it was one of his favorite sounds.

“Hey there!” The Lord of the Wind called, waving the hand that wasn’t holding a bottle of wine. Such frivolities he occupied himself with, much like Xiao’s own master. (His master doesn’t view himself as such anymore. He said it himself, he had retired, but Xiao still couldn’t get used to the feeling of freedom, not when there’s still so much work to do and no one to replace him if he were to stop.) “You seem tense.”

“Lord Barbatos" Xiao bowed, respectfully. Once, Venti has said he didn’t need to carry all the formalities, not when it was only them. Xiao, however, argued he at least had to demonstrate his gratefulness for the one who saved his life and granted him power, even though Venti acted as it was nothing.

Which, considering he was a being of unlimited power and knowledge of past, present and future, it probably was.

“Just Venti, aren’t we friends already?” Venti complained, tapping his shoulder. He walked past Xiao and sat on the roots of a large tree, motioning for Xiao to sit in front of him. “We have shared wine and songs, aren’t those the most intimate things you can share with another?” Smiling came easy to Venti, Xiao wished he could smile at him as well.

“My lor—," Xiao bit his tongue. Venti’s smile faltered. Right, he should have gotten used to the idea of friends a few decades ago. “I have come here with a favor to ask.”

Venti opened the wine, though there wasn't any glass for him to pour the content into. He took a sip directly from the bottle.

“What is it I can do for you?” He asked.

“I believe I have lost a very important item on your territory. Though it isn’t that noticeable, and perhaps that is the reason why I failed to perceive its absence before, it is still something I should retrive.”

“What is it? I can help you search for it.”

Before Venti could finish, Xiao was already shaking his head.

“It’s not for others to touch," he tried to state it in the gentlest way possible. “A cloak of feathers, weaved from my fallen wings, made to mold itself on the body of anyone who wears it. A harmless item for me, but who knows what it may cause at the hands of a mortal," Xiao explained, while refusing Venti’s offer of wine. The idea of putting his mouth where the Lord has touched previously was unnerving, but he also didn’t enjoy the taste of alcohol.

“I see." Venti brings a finger to his chin. “How long have you lost it? Do you know where it was last put?”

Something in Xiao hesitated.

“Probably a decade or so. I am to believe it must be near the border, I vaguely remember defeating monsters that day.”

“Then why have you come ask me for my permission when you could have just looked for it on your own?” Venti bursted. His anger was mild, Xiao was used to dealing with this one — the hatred for pleasantries. “You’re free to do whatever you please, Xiao." Venti’s fingers extended themselves in his direction, taking Xiao’s face between them. “The wind will carry you wherever you may go, stars and clouds shall guide your way, the breeze has your back on whatever decision you take.”

It was different when Venti talked seriously. It reminded Xiao from another time, when he was only a young, barely illuminated beast and he saw an Archon for the first time, powerful and wise and mighty. Venti looks every bit of wise right now, save for the wine breath.

“Now go, fetch your cloak, I assume that’s the cause of your nervousness?”

Xiao cannot lie to an Archon, but he can omit some facts. For that reason, he nods, for the declaration was a semi-truth, and vanished with a gust of wind, as rapid as he appeared.

Venti sipped on his wine and wondered if his friend would ever change.

[sherl-grey]

Shirley G what's your favourite Eleventh Doctor episode rewrite with Rose? Can be an existing fic, or just an idea of an episode you would have loved Rose to be in from Eleven's run! ☺️

hello loup!! this is so tough oh my... once again i'm lamenting my lack of organization, haha. i need to find a better way to save fics... apologies in advance, this will probably be long!

so, i might just be blanking, but i'm not even sure how many single episode rewrites i can think of with Eleven--a lot of them are either full series rewrites OR original plot + a "Day of the Doctor" rewrite at the end (yeah... here's one called "Time Rewritten" that's also Eight/Rose where Rose wakes up in Eleven's TARDIS with no memory and then gets stuck in the Time War, and here's one called "Three Doctors and a Baby" from the fantastic Tentoo/Rose and Eleven/Rose series Consequences, and another Time War one called "Battle in the Sky" that's mostly EightRose but ends with Day of the Doctor and Time of the Doctor... it's a good trope!)

that being said! the rewrite I go to most often for pure joy is "Until The End" by mltrefry, which is part of the "Run with You" multi-series rewrite. Specifically for Eleven's chunk of the series, I love "Vincent and the Doctor" (chapters 9 and 10) as well as.... I honestly think this is either original or maybe an EU takeaway, but there's an Eight/Rose and Eleven/Rose episode called "Before the Worst" (chapters 11 and 12) that I ADORE. This series also has Eleven show up in Blink in a previous fic which is incredibly sweet.

honorable mentions that came to mind:

there is a single episode pairing rewrite of the astronaut duo by no_nutcracker that i just read! ("if i believe in One thing")

there’s also one “i’m at odds and ends but that’s me” by CupofSonic if you like OT3 (tentoo is still here)

i absolutely refuse to read this one ever again because i am emotionally traumatized but here's the god complex ("in blackwater woods")

"when the wolf runs" is fantastic angst-with-a-happy-ending that isn't necessarily a rewrite but certain episodes are addressed and redone? essentially, Rose is woven in to Eleven's overarching plot really well and it's a great fix-it for River as well

i know this fic from the series "Tyler Family Adventures" has an Eleventh Hour rewrite at the very least; it's Tentoo/Rose at first and they actually semi-raise Amy growing up, but it shifts to Eleven/Rose when... well, you can probably guess.

"Out of Order" by lastincurableromantic also pops in on some canon adventures without doing full rewrites! we get a tiny glimpse of Venice and post-The Big Bang at the Pond wedding at the very least

I'm sure I'm still missing some good ones; I know there a couple Doctor's Wife rewrites (Sonic and I and someone else? maybe multiple someone elses?) in existence and that episode is always a pleasure since Rose and the TARDIS obviously adore each other, and I really want to read a reunion that takes place during or after "Hide." The line about "it's not a ghost story, it's a love story" and yearning across time and space... that's it. That's ElevenRose. I think one might exist but I keep losing the link.... Sorry for the novel-length answer but there are just so many good fics!

[heedeungiiee]

𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙮 𝙂𝙮𝙪 - - - 𝘾𝙝𝙤𝙞 𝘽𝙚𝙤𝙢𝙜𝙮𝙪

“Finally, I finish this freaking essay!”

You have been working on an essay that is worth fifty percent of your grade for the past two weeks and you were delighted that you are finally finished with it. No more breakdowns, no more staying up late, and no more excess caffeine or else you will die of caffeine overdose.

You saved printed your work and put it in your file case so it won’t get damaged and you won’t be forgetting it for school the next two days. You even saved your document in your laptop just to make sure that all your hard work won’t go to waste and if you need another copy of your work.

You stood up and did some stretching exercises because you were aching all over. Most especially your back and your hands. 

“I think I should walk out in the park to freshen up my mind.” You told yourself as you hurriedly approached your closet to pick something to wear.

The rain just stopped pouring and the birds were chirping outside. The sun wasn’t up but at least the sky was bright and clear. Just the perfect weather and mood for an afternoon stroll.

You decided to wear faded jeans and a large hoodie since you are just going for a stroll; no need to dress that extravagant, right? You just wear a pair of old converse and grab your wallet, just in case you go to a convenience store afterwards. 

You said your goodbyes to your mom who is inside the office printing some work related stuff. 

You started walking your way down to your neighborhood with your hands inside your pocket. You saw children coming out of their houses and playing in the front yard after it rained for two days. Some were even heading towards the nearby park to play with their friends. You smiled just remembering the days of your childhood where you too were also happy whenever you played with your friends after a long rainy day.

You were already in the park just walking and enjoying the greenery of the area. The grass, the flowers, and benches were drenched with rain water but still they look immaculate. You took a couple of photos from the park, mostly the flowers and the lake at the center where a flock of birds are flying in the sky. 

You were just humming to the tune of your favorite song while walking to the brick pathway, minding your own business and enjoying the breeze of the air when you heard a high pitched voice calling for you. 

“Psst. young lady,” the called over you.

You looked everywhere but you saw no one in that area of the park. You just shrugged your shoulders because maybe you were just hearing things because of lack of sleep.

“Over here, miss.” You heard the voice coming from the big oak tree. 

That’s it. I probably lost my mind from doing my essay. You said inside your head.

You stared at the tree for a moment  and for some unknown reason, you started coming near the tree. You just wanted to check if that high pitch voice was coming from there or if you were just imagining it.  

 “I am officially insane,” you said out loud because the little flying figure was so unreal. You only see them in cartoons or movies about fiction characters. This cannot possibly exist in real life. 

You looked around and you gasped in shock when a small human-like figure went flying in front of you. He has a friendly smile painted on his face. He was wearing  a cream colored puffed sleeve polo and light brown slacks; he was even wearing a cute pair of black oxford shoes. His hair was shoulder length and it was curled up a bit. Various flowers were also arranged in his head immaculately, making him more adorable. His fairy-like wings make him cuter than ever. 

Yes, you know you are freaking out because of this tiny creature but you cannot help but admit that he is so adorable.  

The little creature laughed at your reaction in his high pitched voice. “No miss. You are not insane. I am real, promise.” He smiled from ear to ear. You finally calmed down and you kinda admit that he really is cute, most especially his high pitch voice. 

“Whatever flying fairy creature you are, you are cute.” You smiled back at him.

“Thanks. By the way, miss, what is your name?” asked the little creature.

“I am y/l/n.”

“Y/n,” the little being repeated. “I like your name, it suits you really well.” He giggled. “By the way, my name is Choi Beomgyu but you can call me by my nickname Gyu.”

“Nice to meet you, Gyu.” You smiled and lifted your palm up, inviting him to land his feet there. 

When he landed on your palm, you complimented how cute his nickname was and he fluttered his wings as a way of expressing his gratitude.

“Y/n, may I ask you a favor?” Gyu asked.

“Sure what is it, Gyu?”

“May I kiss you?” He smiled like a cute little kid asking if he could buy some chocolate.

You blushed because of his question. You just met this creature and you barely even know him. And now he is asking for a kiss? 

“What will happen if I do so?” you asked out of curiosity.

Gyu smiled mischievously, “You will see.” He smiled and battered his eyelashes at you. Persuading you that you will do it.

What if this is some kind of danger? You thought to yourself. 

You were contemplating on whether or not, give him a peck. After a lot of thinking and Gyu showing off his charms, you decided what is best. 

“Sure, I guess you can kiss me,” you said. You were curious to what will happen and you were praying that this will not be some kind of danger.

Gyu’s face lit up and he started fluttering his wings out of happiness. “Thanks, y/n. I promise you won’t regret this.” He giggled and you giggled as well because he was so adorable.

He flew away from your palm and went close to your lips. You pouted a bit and you felt Gyu’s tiny lips touch yours. 

Moments later, smoke, sparkles, and flowers were everywhere to where Gyu was standing. You panicked a little bit but you remained composed. You wanted to know what surprises await you.

You gasped as you saw the tiny being transformed into a handsome young man right before your eyes. He was still Gyu, but taller and without wings. 

“See, I told you y/n. You won’t regret it.” Gyu giggled, but this time his high pitched voice disappeared and it was replaced by a manly deep voice. 

You blushed and you felt your heart racing because you never knew the tiny being was a handsome young man. You never knew a creature like this existed in this world.

“You look prettier when you blush,” Gyu chuckled and you bowed down your head because you were being giddy for some reason. 

“Hey, look up here, y/n,” he held both of your shoulders. You were only chest level when you are facing each other so he was basically towering over you. “No need to be shy. You helped me do my favor and I want to thank you for that.” Gyu giggled. 

“I am still the same fairy Gyu but taller and without the wings,” he explained. “Did anything change?” he asked.

“Not really,” you managed to say. “But you just got more handsome and your voice sounds amazing.” You tried to say that in a low tone but Beomgyu clearly heard it.

“Thanks for that compliment, y/n. I know you won’t regret kissing me,” Gyu hugged you tightly.

He leveled his eyes to yours and you tried your best to not shy away from his gesture. He pulled you closer to him before smiling cutely at you. 

“Care if I kiss you again?”

Without waiting for your answer, he leaned and gave you a passionate long kiss.

[velvetcloxds]

PLEASE, CALL ME REMUS| R.L.

Pairing: Remus x fem!Reader, Remus x Student,  Teen Wolf x Hogwarts

Word count: 2466 words

Warning: student teacher relationship sort of (reader is of age, Remus is leaving Hogwarts)

Summary: When news gets out of Remus leaving Hogwarts, the reader pays him a visit in his office before he goes, revealing that she has feelings for him and asking if he feels the same.

I steal a quick glance to the other side of the hall, seeing Harry standing up slowly, cursing under his breath as he looks at me. I smile at him, mouthing an apology before turning to the already open classroom door, slipping passed the chairs and drifting up the stairs where I release a soft breath when looking up to see him packing his office into boxes.

"Professor?" I question almost inaudible, the determination I had to come here slipping away into nerves from the pure idea of his presence. He halts his actions for a sweet second, the softest whisper of a smile tugging at his lips when he notices me.

"Y/n..." He whispers, shaking his head lightly before looking up at me. "I expected you to come see me eventually." I smile, placing my hand on the doorframe as I lean into it.

"I accidently pushed Harry Potter down in order to beat him here, " He smiles, eyes meeting mine as my lips mimic his. "If he does end up saving the world, he may just let me burn." I add, with a shrug which earns a soft laugh from him as he pulls his hair from his face, my heart sinking at the clear view of his new scars.

"Come in," He tells me, gesturing towards the door. "Close it behind you." He adds and I blush lightly as I step into his office, hands lingering on the doorknob.

"You're leaving." I say, still facing the door as I take advantage of the opportunity to get a grip on myself. He breathes out softly.

"I am," He replies, faltering as I turn around to face him. "It's not a decision that I took lightly in making," He offers as a sense of reasoning and I smile sadly, eyes avoiding his as I rake them over the piles of books on his desk. "Believe me, dear Y/n, if there was another option, I would take it gladly." He adds, leaning back against his bookshelf, hands moving to his pockets.

"I know," I say, taking a small step forward towards his desk, mindlessly taking a book into my hands, skimming over the title as I feel his eyes on me. "I'll miss you," I say and move my fingers over the golden writing. "It was rather comforting having someone around just like me." He nods.

"Indeed," He takes a step forward as well, gently taking the book from my hands. "Though I'd be honest, Y/n, you are the furthest from being like me than anyone I'd yet to meet," He raises a brow when I meet his gaze. "You are far too good and far too kind to be identifying with the remainder of the lycanthrope species." I smile, wanting to drop my hand until he carefully takes it into his.

"I have to ask," I begin, attention jumping to the soft motion of his thumb moving against mine. "The feelings that I have for you, Professor," He sighs deeply as the word leaves my lips and I smile in reply. "Were they misplaced?" I question and I feel my cheeks tinting rose as I await his response.

"Never," He whispers almost urgently, eyes filling with guilt as he takes yet another step towards me. "Respectfully, miss Y/n, I'd have to confess that there was not a second of the day which you were not dwelling in my thoughts." He smiles, a blush of his own meeting his cheeks. I nod, tightening my fingers around his to savor his touch.

"Respectfully, Professor Lupin, I'd have to confess the very same," We smile, a second of silence as I desperately take his features and presence in for one last time and I hope his silence is due to him doing the same, because I put up no effort to hide my eyes traveling from feature to feature, pausing for a second as if I am making a mental note of all my favorite parts. "Will I ever see you again?" I question carefully, knowing the answer already, but hoping for the opposite anyway.

"I am not sure we will." He answers carefully, eyes falling, and shoulders slumping, and I prepare to remove my hand from his. I nod, ripping my eyes away from him when I hear footsteps stilling in front of the door.

"Bloody seventh years doing as they please. I ought to report her to Dumbledore, is what I should do." Harry's voice drifts into the silent office and I fill with disappointment knowing our time is up.

Professor Lupin smiles sadly, lifting my hand to his lips where he places a whisper of a kiss against my knuckles, his breath tickling my skin as he pulls away.

"I will miss you, Y/n," He tells me softly, knowing that Harry may hear from outside the door. "It was an absolute pleasure getting to know you." I release a shaky breath, eyes burning slightly as I bite back tears.

"Will you be okay?" I ask, allowing myself to steal a glance at his scars. "Will you be safe on your own?" I add and his entire face smiles as he looks at me.

"I have been struggling with my disease for longer than I can remember," He tells me. "I have been worse, and I'll be worse still, but me and my troubles are not your burden. I never hoped to be."

"You weren't," I say too quickly and he nods, releasing my hand to fall to my side. "If you ever find yourselves in the chaotic town of Beacon Hills, promise me you'll come see me." I plea, paying no mind to the desperation slipping from my tongue.

"I promise." He tells me as a knock sounds at the door.

"Professor?" Harry asks loudly. "Are you still in there?" I shake my head as I step away.

"Goodbye, Professor Lupin." I say and he shakes his head with a sad smile.

"Remus," He says and places the book from earlier down onto the table. "Please, call me Remus." He says and I nod.

"Goodbye Remus." I say and turn away, no longer able to control the urge to cry. I open the door quickly, Harry stepping aside when he sees me. Despite myself, I look back at Professor Lupin one more time, seeing him inch closer when he sees my tears and I shake my head, ignoring Harry's confusion as I walk away from the office and the man who somehow captured my heart, before I could break down completely.

The rest of the year passed in a blur. I remained as far from the chaos and trouble as I could, passing Professor Lupin's class a few times a day and watching as someone new interacted inside it. I could never quite explain what I felt for him. I would have called it a simple crush at first, but then again crushes very rarely share that feeling. I would have jotted in down as a case of lust, me being lonely and him being both kind and autoreactive. But all and all I decided to leave my feelings unclarified. I cared quite a lot for Remus Lupin, and I believe he cared for me as well. In different circumstances we may have had a chance for more, but I made morbid peace with the horrible fate that Hogwarts sealed for us.

"I think you're being dramatic." Stiles tells me, reaching over me to grab a fry from the plate.

"I'm not," I say taking a sip from my milkshake. "I have not known a single moment of peace since Derek Hale came into my life." I explain loudly, Derek laughing lightly from the other side of the booth and Scott simply nods. Lydia shakes her head at Stiles who steals a sip of her soda float.

"To be fair, you're still a witch, it's not like you'd be completely trouble free without Derek as your alpha." Malia says and she frowns when Scott wipes a napkin over her lip to remove some ketchup.

"Fair point," I say and lean forward. "However, I think my time at Hogwarts would've been much more enjoyable had I not been forced to tie myself up with chains in the shrieking shack every full moon." I add with a smile, laughs and nods filling the table and I sit back against the booth. Watching as they change the topic, laughing and smiling still.

But I cannot help but feel silly, the second I said it, Remus slipped into my mind. The memory of us running into each other on the first full moon he was at Hogwarts, him helping me with my chains before undergoing his own change, a protection spell keeping me hidden from his rage. I remember cleaning his wounds for the first time, checking for deep cuts and breaks. I remember the utter confusion on his face when I took some of his pain. I remember the small smile he gave me when I entered his class the next day to give him a message from Professor Snape. I remember every single smile he ever gave me; they were both rare and abundant, the real task was deciphering which were real and which were for show. I remember realizing that most of the real ones were aimed at me.

"So, I have a Hogwarts question." Stiles announces, his arm hitting mine as he turns towards me. I roll my eyes as I look up from the fries I was loosely staring at.

"You always do." I say and everyone laughs. Stiles scrunches his nose at me before leaning forward.

"How come you remained a witch after Derek bit you?" He says and Lydia nods.

"I don't know," I say with a shrug, knowing how often the question had bothered me in the past as well. "I had a friend who tried to explain it to me," I say, hoping that the table full of werewolves do not pick up on the change in my chemo signals. "He said that werewolves were basically like hybrids, half human and half wolf and seeing as I'm a witch, I'm simply half witch and half wolf."

"So, there are werewolves at Hogwarts too?" Malia asks and I nod.

"They're different though." I say and everyone looks at me for an explanation. "They can't control it like we do." I explain and fiddle with my fingers. "It's like the werewolf in them is a whole different soul without any empathy, without any concept of decency." I explain further, Stiles mocking a shiver next to me.

"It sounds awful." Lydia says and I nod, not meeting her gaze.

"It is." I say softly, Remus filling my mind again.

"Seems like you learnt a lot from your friend though." Scott notes and I nod with a smile.

"He was quite the teacher." I say and they smile in return. Derek glances at his watch and then frowns.

"It's late," He announces and takes the last sip of his soda. "We should get going, the rest of you bunch are graduating tomorrow." He explains and everyone agrees, slipping their cash onto the table as we all cover the cost and the tip.

"Are you coming?" Lydia asks and I shake my head.

"I'm going to grab another milkshake," I say and she raises a brow. "I'm good Lyds, I'll see you guys tomorrow," I smile. "Big day." I add and she nods.

"I'll be the one with the gown and the cap." She notes, leaning down to give me a quick hug before rushing to the exit where Stiles is holding the door open for her. I look out the window as I watch them all get into their cars, riding off a few minutes later into different directions. I let out a sigh.

I hate being alone, when I'm alone I always end up thinking of him.

"Butterbeer." The waiter says as he places the pitcher down in front of me. I frown.

"I'm sorry what?" I ask, looking between him and the table. There are only a few places on earth that serve butterbeer and Beacon Hills diner is not one of them.

"Butterbeer," The waiter repeats. "A guy brought it to the kitchen, said it's a inside joke or something." He explains and I sit up straight.

"What guy?" I ask as I look around the diner, the waiter joining me in the search.

"Man, he was here a second ago." He explains as my eyes catch the back of someone's head just as the diner door closes. It could not be. It could not possibly be.

"Excuse me." I say in a rush as I run to the exit, slipping my change into my pocket as I do.

The cold hits me like a wave of needles as I step into the street, the few cars scattered around me, belonging to regulars and workers and I let out a deflated sigh.

"I'm right here, miss Y/n," His voice informs me, and a shiver slowly vibrates through my entire body as I turn around to see him. His eyes almost twinkling in the shadow of the streetlight as he smiles at me from where he leans against my car. His smile grows as I stare at him blankly, my mind barely comprehending the fact that he is here, let alone here for me. He walks towards me carefully, as if he is scared to spook me. "I'm right here." He repeats, softer this time as he stills in front of me.

"Professor..." I whisper, more to myself than him as I rake my eyes over every feature of his face, checking my mental notes with the ones I made months ago when he left. He nods, gently slipping his hand into mine, lifting it to his lips like how he did in his office that day.

"Please..." He begins, lips brushing over the skin of my knuckles. "Call me Remus," I smile, a blush creeping onto my cheeks as I senselessly move towards him, brining my hand over his scarred cheek as I almost desperately connect my lips with his own. The action prompts the most intoxicating smile from him before he returns the gesture, hands respectfully moving to my waist before he nimbly pulls away. He shakes his head as we remain close, eyes copying the actions of my own a few minutes ago. "You are remarkable, Y/n." He tells me breathless, and I smile, moving my hands to the collar of his coat.

"So are you, Remus." I say and his eyes darken the slightest bit as his name slips from my lips.

"Bloody hell." He whispers, nodding to himself and looking to the side before gently forcing me into his embrace, my face nestling into his chest as his cologne consumes me.

Hi there, more of my work can be found on Wattpad under @mjoubertt. Mxx.

Masterlist 

[thebrightsessions]

Entertainment Spotlight: Ian McQuown

Ian is an LA based actor and producer known for the YouTube comedy group, Extremely Decent, as well as a voice actor in the popular audio dramas: The Bright Sessions, The AM Archives, StarTripper!! & Deck The Halls! His credits inclue American Housewife, Trial & Error, Better Things, and For All Mankind. Ian took the time to answer some questions for us. Check it out:

You’ve worked on multiple podcasts -- what drew you to the medium?

Well, to be honest, Lauren drew me to it because TBS was my first narrative podcast. We met at a Rocky Horror Picture Show show. Anna Lore is our mutual friend and I think Anna is just talented as all get out, so anything she’s involved I want to be in. And, I don’t know, it was just one of those lucky breaks you get where a door opens and takes you to all these cool places you never anticipated.

On podcasting though, I really appreciate how much more possible it is to tell engaging stories without the boundaries of having to afford a set and a camera and insurance and etc etc etc. Like, I grew up with Star Wars, The Matrix, Cowboy Bebop— so when I imagine the stories I like, I’m usually picturing other worlds, space ships, people with super powers and those types of stories used to have a lot higher barrier to entry to make than they do now, which is just awesome.

If you could give a character from The Bright Sessions a spinoff series, who would you choose and what would the series be called?

I mean, no surprises here, but I’d love to see Damien’s early years. And I’d be super clever and call it something like... Damien: The Early Years. I'm dying for that content a little bit actually: Damien, before he became such a bad guy. Maybe a love story that doesn’t work out and leaves him really scarred? Villains so bad they created a villain instead of a victim—  that moment where we see the two roads Damien has to choose between and it totally shreds us when he makes the choice we all know he’s going to make, I mean, come ON you can see that, right? It’d be like the Star Wars prequels but without all the youngling killing and “NOOOOOOOO”’s and I want it.

Can you share a fun story or anecdote from the making of The Bright Sessions?

Haha, ok well it’s not really anything of note BUT: I remember Lauren had this area rug in her room, which as you probably know is where we would record, and it was this really nice, I think, red sort of floral rug that took up pretty much all the floor space because it was covering up the older apartment rug-floor underneath it. And it was, as I said, really cool, except it wasn’t a rug on a wood floor, right? It was a rug on a rug so it was a bit taller than the people who designed the room had planned for— the result of which was that you’d walk in and the room had this really awesome little vibe with this cute rug, and it was all very cozy, unless you looked directly behind you at the corner where the door had just spent ages scraping the surface of it, catching the corner, tearing little pieces out. And I may be getting apocryphal at this point, but I feel like by the time I had started coming around Lauren had straight up duct taped it to the floor, which really didn’t help the problem. And, I don’t know—again it’s not really anything momentous—but I just remember giving Lauren a particular amount of shit about it one day and us all having a really good laugh. And I really love that— there are jobs where you show up, keep your head down, do your work and leave, but then there are jobs like The Bright Sessions where you all get to become friends, and even if you don’t see each other for a while you sort of just get to pick up where you left off. And then those jobs turn into other jobs and you get to keep hanging out with your friends and peers and just making stuff you like— I’m a big fan of that.

If your life was a choose your own adventure, what decisions would viewers have to make on an average day?

OKAY, you wake up...

Water your garden before it gets to be 110 today, you cannot skip this step. You may however:

A) Stay out in the garden for longer if you get inspired and check if the tomatoes and peppers are ripe for picking.

Great! Now let’s make breakfast:

A) Make eggs, toast, fried tomatoes, and hash browns? 

B) Make (A) But also with Bacon? 

C) Make a smoothie?

D) There’s no time today, run to Whole Foods and get their incredibly priced $6 Egg, Bacon Cheese Breakfast burrito.

Awesome! You’ve eaten and now you can think. What work do you have to do?

A) Prep your audition, dummy! It’s due this afternoon, go fix your hair. 

B) You have a zoom meeting with actor friends at 11 to play around with some new material, put on a hat.

C) There is nothing you have to work on so stare at your computer and wonder if there’s new project you could be working on. Try to find that project, leave your hair as it.

Wow! You really had a great (insert previous choice here), let’s get you a coffee and take a TV break. What should we watch?!

A) That new show you haven’t seen yet because you need to watch everything so you know how to work on it should you get an audition for it.

B) Harley Quinn (your favorite new cartoon).

C) Teenage Bounty Hunters.

D) Farscape.

E) Nope, you just got an audition for tomorrow, everything is off the table, start working on it (Level Complete).

Lunch Time!!!

A) Turkey sandwich with pickles from the garden?

B) Trader Joe’s Margherita Pizza with basil and peppers from the garden?

C) Are we going to start another loaf of sourdough you basic mf?

D) Yes we probably are, but also (A) and (B).

Cool! I’ve eaten lunch. Now what?

A) You haven’t finished that work from this morning. Riiiight.

B)…More Harley Quinn…?

C) Let’s make pasta from scratch!

D) Let’s make ribs! From…ribs!

F) You just got an audition for tomorrow, everything is off the table, start working on it. (Level Complete).

Bangarang! You probably chose to start cooking dinner immediately after eating lunch. You ate it (and it rocked), what now?

A) You just got an audition for tomorrow, everything is off the table, start working on it. (Level Complete)

B) DnD with squad.

C) Go on a run, dude— you’re getting a Jaba chin….

D) Bring on the chin! Let’s watch TV until 2am! Here are your options:

A) Harley Quinn (your new favorite cartoon)

B) Teenage Bounty Hunters

C) Farscape

D) Put The Office on in the background and clean your house.

Level Complete.

As you can see I’m a very food-focused person. Also, I’m going to be real, that is truly what most of my days look like and I’m low-key a little mortified that ’taking a shower’ wasn’t a game option... 

Can you share your favorite piece of Bright Sessions / AM Archives fan art?

I love all the fan art that people make for my characters but this one from Franartz has always been really special to me. It’s so GQ, I just love it — and some of my favorite early AG moments are with Damien, who looks a little like he stepped out of a Gorrilaz album here— big fan. I’m a little obsessed with fan art actually, I save everything I come across— there’s a freckled red-headed series of Owen by TheFigureInTheCorner that makes me really happy. Seeing that my work has inspired someone else to make something of their own is really what’s up, you know? It makes me think about all the art and entertainment that has touched me over the years and I get a lot of joy from being a part of that cycle.

Thanks for taking the time, Ian! Give I Can Die When I'm Done a relisten right here.

[myclownjunction]

A loyal guard dog! Karl Heisenberg x Reader Part 1

It’s a Reader x Karl Heisenberg fanfic will be long, the reader can turn unto weredog (half-werewolf half-dog, also possesses healing abilities) Reader was a dog-like trained human since her childhood she was kidnapped and forced into death-fights with other scum. As the story goes her ex-boss was killed by Heisenberg and she automatically took his side and became his right-hand in the factory. (Inspired by the movie Unleashed aka Danny the dog)

WARNING!! GRAPHIC, SCENES, GORE, BLOOD...YOU’VE BEEN WARNED!

'These kids were getting on my nerves' y/n sighed as she took turns and twists fast knowing just like her owner the factory-like her five fingers on her arm, as there were trespassers her job was like any guard dog's job, catch, bite, fight and kill protecting the factory when your master was not around, the collar on your neck, (insert favorite color) was wrapped around your neck together with a dog tag that said whom you belonged to. The reason for the chase was few teens that decided to be brave to take something from the factory to show off in front of their friends had no idea that you were the guard dog of this place as they mocked you for being a girl you called for the Soldats to join you then they started to run and hide. But as always in any good horror movies, each of them was dumber than the other, 'What fear makes with people, right?' you thought, outrunning some Soldats to help them get them dead, you were in the 'Scavenger room' that's how you called it, it was littered with any metal junk you could think of I've been trained by my ex-master that got killed by Karl Heisenberg and he got excited to have someone as obedient as me and I was happy to change the shitbag of the owner I had! Walking as quiet as possible not to startle my prey I walked around a few steps and stopped sniffing the air I felt the sickening strong smell of a female perfume-making me smile as I started talking just like my owner taught me, "You know I fully understand you kid, you wanted to hype on being in constant danger, take a trophy and show off in front of your friends". I smiled and then dropped my smile continuing "You see your friends don't care to come and see you, to save you, they all left!" as I finished my sentence I heard the shuffling looking straight where the noise originated "It's not true, it's just ...t-they would leave me!" I chuckled at her stuttering she was terrified, "Come on kid, you know that it's true...I mean everyone gains some and loses some, let me get this deal for you! You come out and we talk normally and then my master shall decide your faith! It's fairer than to hurt yourself..." I paused licking my sharp fangs and smiled tasting my victory "...you wouldn't want it, right? You seem like a nice kid so how about you come out and we talk!?" I heard silence for few moments then a rather cute girl came out as I smiled and showed her to come closer walking behind her I took the metal chair that was sitting nearby and guided towards her telling her "Come on now take a seat, it's going to be a long talk!" and turned a bit around as she stood there with her nose higher than Lady Dimitrescu's  size 'Ohh so we're going to be bitchy, I know perfectly how to be one too!' I said to myself as I turned around my eyes glowing yellow "I said SIT!" pushing her to the chair as she fell onto it holding for her dear life as I proceeded to smile as soft as possible not scaring her with my fangs. "You see kiddo, there are different types of dogs, right?" I looked at her and she nodded for me to continue as she almost becomes one with the poor stool 

"So as a guard dog, my responsibilities go from protecting my owner to protect his property, right?... Right! A good dog is a dog that follows its master's rules and then you drop in like a shittone of scarp on my head, causing havoc in the factory that I...PROTECT!" she gulped audibly and then fired up a question that I knew will drop from her mouth. "You don't look like a dog to me and these things what are they?" she practically screeched making me flinch and let out a growl as she was scared and it made me madder, I jumped and snarled in front of her face showing my fangs to her making her flinch and start crying as I continued "I.AM.A.DOG!!" breathing heavily I was just like Heisenberg, blowing the fuse for the least stupid thing or worse stupid person "I am modified to be a dog I was taken away as a kid and I am LOYAL to my master!" she whined and looked away from my face, continuing I said "I  didn't ask for this but here we are! You dropping on my head the soldats running around like moronic idiots and your friends...And I badly want to end you up but I cannot without my master's permission."  She was trembling as I felt a shift in the air Heisenberg was home I was absolutely happy and delighted that he's finally back "What the actual hell did happen here Y/N? It looks like a frikin hurricane went through here and...?" he walked closer and seeing me as I bowed my head as a sign of respect and he turned the nod his smile growing up even more as he removed his hammer and slammed it into the closest wall "Well, well, well what do we have here, my loyal dog has caught a trespassing rascal!" he smiled his charming smile looking at the girl up and down, he tilted his head "Was she the only one that caused the havoc in my factory?!" I nodded my head and said, "They were greeted warmly Sir, and also taken care of!" I heard him chuckle "So doll I'm gonna let you go and of course there's one but in this! So you like games...I presume, yes!" he looked at me and winked I knew what he had in his mind a chase that never ended well for the pray I smiled and nodded "It's a simple game you'll try to find the exit as I count from 10 and if you outrun my Good girl, you'll be free and run away far away, far away!" as he walked towards the girl that had the face that you need to see, it was disgust, revoltingly consumed by fear. I stood on end tasting the chase I could transform thankfully to Karl, he helped me with the modification making me even more agile, faster and all the senses sharpened by 10, maybe even I was more weredog, but it didn't matter I was waiting for the command! Then I heard her standing "You're crazy, both of you!! You are two twisted creatures that don't have a heart...you want to kill me...maybe I look dumb but I'm not I know you killed my friends! You're disgusting...BOTH of you!!!" she screeched making Heisenberg not happy at all the silence was so thick you could slice it with a knife, she stood terrified and she understood her gravely mistake as Heisenberg summoned his hammer and his smile dropped "Let's see what are you made of doll!" he raised his hammer and slammed right in front her feet making her scream and run away "10,9.." I started shifting turning and ready to run after her, baring my teeth I waited for his sign, "8,7 you better run faster doll my sweet y/n is fast enough to get cha!" as we heard her heading to the lowest levels 'What a stupid idiotic, person' I thought as Heisenberg continued "6,5,4...3" I was ready to spring forward as he smiled victoriously "2 I'm sorry kiddo but 1, it's SHOW TIME!  Now let me get this straight girlie, we're not the only residents in this factory so if you see someone or rather somethig...You better run!" he laughed I knew that he was talking to her though the com of the radio. He turned to me holding my muzzle and smiled "Let's do it kid I want you to give her a good chase just like with the others and let her regret bringing her excuse of an ass in here, make me a proud puppy and you'll get big reward today" he winked as he scratched my ears "FETCH!". I bolted from my place picking up the smell immediately as I raced through the factory I picked up the smell and started removing pieces from the metal furniture that was in my way I felt it then...it was a trap! The heavy metal of the crane fell on top of me earning a yelp and whine as it trapped me under its weight I heard a maniacal laugh "You're but an excuse of a dog, your master shall die and pay for everything as for how am I going to do this it doesn't matter I hope you die stupid disgusting mutt!" she walked away as I tried to crawl from underneath the metal part I felt it lift and give me way out as I crawled I felt my bones and joints snapping back in place I was healing that was one of my many bonuses. I leat out the most terrific roar shaking the factory the come came to live "Come on sugar, daddy believes in you tear that bitch apart!" I howled and raced through the fabric searching for her and I saw her almost getting out of the building I made a shortcut and jumped in front of her snarling and baring my teeth as a warning sign but she screeched "You damned mutt, how did you survive the trap, nothing this will end you!" she took out a gun making me even madder and aimed it at me "Die you disgusting creature!" there was a whine and a roar I snapped my jaws around her neck tearing it to sherds,splattering blood everwhere, the last thing I remebered the gurling sounds and thum and them Heisenbergs' screaming my name as the adrenaline pumped through me I didn't felt how many bullets I got from this cunt but everything I remember is thudding of my heart, Heisenbergs’ pleads and curses to stay alive and then I was wrapped into darkness, feeling only how someone pickd me up and carriedn me somewhere... To Be continued...

[honeysidesarchived]

WHERE THERE IS NO TEMPTATION, THERE IS NO GLORY.

⊱ a santino d'antonio / oc short-fic

euphemia volpe has never wanted for very much; a safe place to sleep, a soft place to land. to love someone, and be loved back. she has all of those things now, but it's most unfortunate for her that she has fallen in love with a man who will never be satisfied with what he's got.

pt. i: contact is crisis

words: 3.3k

warnings: language, some depictions of a relationship that is not entirely healthy, extensive use of my very basic knowledge of italian (padded with google translate, thank you google!), and an unfortunate amount of endearments and pet names. this does not deviate from john wick chapter 2's canon ending, so please bear in mind this will contain major character death.

rating: m for mature language ??? probably closer to t, but will change later on.

notes: as some of you may know, this has been (unfortunately) sitting on my drive since i first watched john wick chapter two almost a year ago--maybe over a year! i can't remember. all i remember was seeing santino and going "SOMEONE has got to kiss that man". so you know, here i am. this short-fic (only a few, short parts) will take place over the span of the events of john wick chapter 2. yes i built some tiny amount of lore for the camorra. yes i had the opportunity to write a fix-it fic and did not. no i am not taking criticism at this time !

special uber big thank you to my beta and my wifey @starcrier who read this a year ago and when i casually said, "hey, so what if i posted this" told me to do it. also @faithchel, who through the occasional sly prompt slid in from ask games (i see you) has been a true angel while i sort through this, and equally as encouraging!

and of course thank you to you all, who read this. i know this is not the usual content you followed me for but i appreciate you all the same. <3

“I cannot believe that I will marry a man so stupid.”

Euphemia is practically frothing at the mouth, she’s so mad; she storms into the chic New York loft, tossing her purse onto the nearby counter, her heels clipping against the polished floor decisively. It’s late; the silk slip of a dress draped across her body brushes the floor in a sweeping train, and she balances herself on the counter with one hand while she steps out of the stilettos with the assistance of the other.

“Euphie, luce della mia vita,” Santino says, striding in after her and completely at ease. He is, infuriatingly, as he always is; perfectly composed, his dark curls in place and his suit immaculate. Euphemia eyes him through the mirror of her vanity as he sidles up behind her. “We’re not married yet, princesa, so you have nothing to worry about.”

“Luce della mia vita,” Euphemia drawls mockingly. She drips the words in honey on the way out of her mouth, sliding a dainty, glittering bracelet from her wrist and dropping it on the counter. “You sound like a fucking idiot, Santi.”

His gaze darkens, but his voice is still silky when he says, “Watch your tone, cara mia.”

“What for?” Euphemia thinks she wouldn’t be able to watch her tone even if she wanted to; not anymore, not with this hanging over her head. She turns to stare at her fiancé, pressing her index finger to his chest. “You’re going to get killed by Baba Yaga anyway. No point in behaving myself, is there? Idiota.”

“Euphemia.”

“You leave John Wick alone, Santino,” she bites out. “You don’t ask for a thing from him. Of him. About him. I don’t want John Wick near my life.”

Santino grabs her wrist, the hand with the engagement ring sitting on it—snatches it out of the air like a cobra striking, grips it with hands that usually are much kinder.

“Everything that you have now is a gift from me,” he warns her, voice pitched low. “You like your nice engagement ring? Your nice dresses? This nice loft we live in?”

His fingers grip, nearly bruising; these are the only times that he doesn’t handle her with care, that his elegant fingers don’t splay against her skin reverently—when she’s pissed him off.

“I’ve given it all to you, all of these things, this life that you like having and don’t want John Wick near, so I would suggest watching your tone for that.”

There is a brief moment where Euphemia thinks she might finally, right now, resort to the violence of slapping Santino in the face. The threat is not lost on her; it’s Santino’s favorite thing to do when he’s angry. And for her to commit an act of violence against her fiancé would be unthinkable almost every other time, in any other situation. Euphie would not have considered it in the least, but there are times—on occasion—where she thinks for a second that she doesn’t recognize him; that he’s become some amalgam of all of the men who have grabbed her too hard or told her she owes them. Men who have used her meanly.

And Santino has divulged his plan to push John Wick for a favor.

So, yes: she thinks she might, but then her hand is moving of her own volition, sliding the engagement ring off of her finger and stuffing it into his jacket pocket, the more pacifist choice than what her mind is screaming for her to do.

“You have never had nothing, Santi,” she says, biting out the words, “so allow me to enlighten you; I have had nothing before you, and I will be just fine having nothing again.”

His eyes narrow, gemlike slits that sit heavy on her. She yanks her wrist of his grip and says, “And it is a good thing we are not married, si? A divorce would have been so messy.”

“Euphie,” Santino says in a sigh that lacks venom, as though he weren’t just threatening to take everything from her, as though she were the hysterical one, “don’t fuss.”

Don’t fuss, he says, because Santino has only ever had women before that bend themselves over backwards until they break for him; don’t fuss, he says, because he likes and maybe loves her, she thinks, but he doesn’t like or love when she talks back. Santino has always had someone to wait on him, to serve him, and Euphemia has never seen his parents together but she would that his only vision of marriage is that of a subservient, dutiful, loving wife.

“Oh, but my darling,” she coos, very undutiful and decidedly not subservient, “I wouldn’t want you to have to worry about all of the nice things you give me. You can enjoy them all yourself, for the brief time before Baba Yaga kills you for asking him to do a job he does not want to do, when he has announced his retirement.”

It’s a terrible way to feed the monster inside of her. That monster is a pusher, a puller, the kind that picked and chipped away at Santino until he lost that shred of his manicured control and gave her something, anything she could work with. It was impossible to love a man who was so buttoned up there was nowhere for her to put her love.

His expression tightens in the way that she recognizes as his controlled fury; bottling it, merchandising it, saving it for later. Santino is not incapable of killing his sister himself, but for some reason—a reason that Euphemia is sure is only known to him—he won’t. Some stupid shit about blood and family, probably.

“Take the ring back.” Santino’s voice is smooth, belying the danger lurking just beneath. He fishes the engagement ring out of the pocket of his suit jacket, where she’d dropped it, and picks up her hand again; this time, his fingers don’t grip with bruising force, but cradle. Euphemia thinks she might have pushed him, then, right to the line, because his eerie calm is unsettling as his fingers meticulously slide the engagement ring back into place.

He says, “There, you see? This is where your engagement ring belongs and will stay. Here, on your hand. Just like this is where you belong and will stay—here, with me.” His hand comes up to her face; she turns away, and he catches her chin and forces her to look back at him.

“You know I will get you anything you want,” Santino murmurs, “but you have to ask.”

Nicely, is the implied word. A good fiancé, a good wife, wouldn’t storm out of the car after he mentions John Wick in passing, ripping through the loft, calling him names. She knows all of this and she thinks, then maybe I’m not a good anything.

But she can tell when she’s pushed Santino’s buttons just enough—enough to make a point, and not enough to incur his wrath. Not entirely.

“Please, Santi,” she says, her voice still hard but softer than it was before, and already Santi is shaking his head so she plunges on recklessly, “do not cash in John Wick’s debt to you. Ascoltami, I know you—I know you will do something to put yourself and John Wick on opposite sides of the playing field.”

Santino’s gaze is sharp and clear. He drops his hand from her face, shrugging, and says, “So what? I will be playing chess, and John Wick will be playing checkers. You worry too much, Euphie.”

“What you mean to say is that I think before I act.”

He shrugs, and threads his fingers through her hair, reaching up with the other to brush loose strands of it from her eyes. He rumbles pleasantly, “Don’t you trust me?”

Euphemia grits her teeth. Her hands come up to grip his wrists, watching him with a prickle of dread in her chest. “Don’t you trust me, Santi?”

Santi’s gaze darkens. Like that, he drops his hands from her, tucking them into the pockets of his slacks as he turns and wanders further into the bedroom, taking all of his warmth with him and leaving Euphie to marinate in the cold glow of the vanity’s lights.

“You can say no,” she says after him, frustrated. “You don’t have to keep an air of mystery about it.”

“What do I do then, tesora?” Santino demands, turning to look at her from the foot of the bed where stands. “Kill her myself? You know I can’t. You know that you cannot ask me to do that.” A pause, and then, with an added air of entitlement: “And Wick owes me.”

There are complicated feelings wrapped up in the whole of it, she knows; Santino, who wants what his sister was given, but cannot bring himself to end her. Euphemia, who only wants Santino, who doesn’t care if he has a seat at the High Table or if he’s a sister-killer or not, who only wants him to look at her longingly like he did when they first met, just for forever instead of a brief moment in time.

And both of them, intrinsically linked, because Santino isn’t wrong when he says that he’s given her everything she has now and Euphemia isn’t wrong when she says she would be okay with nothing again.

She doesn’t ask it of him; he is right, that she can’t, that she wouldn’t. Gianna has only ever been kind to her, at least face to face, and if Santi’s sister had any reservations about Euphemia, then Euphie would find herself in a completely different situation. Not engaged to the only other heir to the D’Antonio empire, that was for certain.

Instead, then, she says, “I cannot ask you to do it, you’re right. I cannot ask you to do it, and I cannot keep you, and I cannot throw you away, Santino. I was less tired when I had nothing.”

She turns away and walks herself into the bathroom, fingers trembling as she undoes the delicate zipper of the gold dress, letting it pool at the floor in a whisper of fabric. The engagement ring sits heavy on her hand. It’s beautiful—and just what she wants, and also the thing that she fears the most, because she doesn’t know what it means to Santino and only what it means to her.

“Euphie.”

His voice comes from the doorway of the bathroom. She turns on the hot water in the tub, a beautiful porcelain clawfoot that she picked herself. It was one of the first things that Santino gifted to her, the first essence of her in the loft that is now almost entirely half-and-half the two of their tastes.

Euphemia doesn’t say anything, because she doesn’t know what to say, so she ties up her hair and shimmies out of the last of her clothes. She can feel his eyes on her, waiting for her to flower into submission and turn around and beg, oh, please Santino, forgive me, but he should know better because she has never and will never do that for him.

“Cara mia.”

“Do not.” Euphemia’s voice wobbles. She slides into the bathtub before it’s full, the water stinging her skin where it touches. “I can’t stand to hear your voice saying sweet things to me when you are willingly walking yourself into your grave.”

“You are being a little dramatic.” He makes his way over to her, kneeling down beside the porcelain tub, ghosting his fingers over her forehead and then the bridge of her nose, fluttering in a way that treasures her and causes her grief all at once. “Just one job, Euphie. That’s all I’m going to ask of him. And then it’s done, and you won’t have to be worried about the Boogeyman.” The pads of his fingers dip into the hot water and then skim along the slope of her collarbone, raising goosebumps on her skin. “And John Wick, whose lifelong peace you are very concerned about, can go back to his dog and his car.”

Euphemia thinks, it’s never just that, with you, because she knows Santino—she knows he’s hungry, has always been hungry, a boy magicked into a man’s skin all hurt and needing and starved, unable to inhibit himself properly. No self-preservation telling him when to stop, never telling him when enough is enough. Not really.

I see you, though, she thought, her gaze flickering over Santino’s face to trace the handsome lines of his expression. She would have never agreed to marry a man before she saw him without his face off; without knowing the monster underneath.

But while she knows this, and she sees Santino D’Antonio for what he really is, she is an idiot and a fool and loves a man sick with the magic of his own perceived destiny, a destiny he believes he is owed, so she says softly, “Promise me, Santi.”

“On my life,” Santino replies with that boyish charm she knows so well. He speaks as though he is not going to leave her in the morning to visit Baba Yaga, as though she doesn’t fear he won’t ever come back. “Now give me a kiss, princesa.”

“I mean it, Santino—”

“I do, too.” He cocks his head to the side. “I won’t ask twice.”

Euphemia acquiesces; not because she fears what he’ll do if he does feel he has to ask twice—because he does hate that—but because as much as she says she would be happy to have nothing again, she is content to bask in the something that she has now, while she has it.

She kisses the corner of his mouth. He slides his damp fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and says, “Do you love me?”

“Of course.” Her voice feels rough with an emotion she doesn’t want any of. “Of course, Santi, that’s why I—”

“All I need is a yes or no, my little fox, not an essay.”

Her eyes narrow. She turns her face from him; he shifts his position at the end she’s leaned against, dragging his hands along her shoulders to ease the tension in her muscles. Her body reacts instinctively to him. She is a long cry from the girl scamming rich men out of their wallets and time, but there are some things she is still weak to; touch, the acknowledgment that she has a body, that she is real, to be reassured that she is alive.

Santino is so very good at that. He leans over the end of the tub and kisses her cheek, fingers working into the knots of her shoulders.

I am so afraid, she thinks, her eyelashes fluttering shut. I am so afraid that I will never see old age on you.

“Tesora.” His voice is a lull. Pulling her back in, pushing her back under, reminding her that to relinquish herself to someone is a luxury she does not want to go without anymore. To let someone else take control, to not have to worry about making decisions all the time; this is something that she always wants.

“Yes,” Euphie says, “of course I love you, Santi.”

She can feel his smile against her cheek.

“Good girl.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━

“Tell me your favorite words.”

It’s both early and late; the clock’s cool blue numbers are keeping her awake; Santi’s hand slides along the curve of her hip admiringly above the silk of her nightdress, and his nose brushes the bump at the base of her neck. Euphemia shifts. When she does, the edge of her engagement ring catches on the silky pillowcase, but she doesn’t care—it will always do that, because Santi won’t pick another and Euphie won’t ask him to.

Goosebumps prickle along her skin with the air conditioning, cranked as high as she likes, whispers across it when her shoulder slides out from underneath the comforter. She rolls over to look at him. It’s unsurprising that he’s still awake, and he doesn’t look surprised to see she’s awake, either.

“My favorite words?” she prompts. Santino brings his hand to her face, his thumb dragging absently along her lower lip.

“Si,” he replies. “You are always reading. You can speak a few languages. You must have favorite words, no?”

His request does bring a smile to her face, tired as it is. They may have spent the rest of their waking evening wandering around each other like wounded dogs, wary and licking their wounds, but they are here now, together, in their bed.

Euphie says, “It is late, Santi.”

“And I cannot sleep.” He brushes his nose along her jawline. “But perhaps the soothing voice of my one greatest love will lull me.”

She laughs. Her hand finds his, their fingers interlacing, woven together. He pulls back from her and kisses the engagement ring, but he is waiting. He means it.

“Tendresse,” Euphemia says, the word rolling soft out of her mouth from misuse. Santino quirks a brow expectantly and kisses the pulse point of her wrist. “Tenderness.”

He nods sagely. Against the soft skin of the inside of her wrist, he murmurs, “You are a most tender creature, Euphemia D’Antonio.”

Her fingers slide out of his, running along the slope of his cheekbones and then the bridge of his nose. “That is Euphemia Volpe. If you’ll recall, we’re yet to be married.”

Santino leans in, captures her fingertips playfully with his teeth, and then kisses her palm with a warm, rich chuckle that sends pleasant heat spiraling down her spine. “You will never forget that I was fool enough to say that to you, will you?” he asks. “Tell me another.”

His eyes are just as warm as his voice, and twice as earnest. In these moments, Santino is the most charming; boyish and quick-witted, unburdened by the elements of the world, by his own desires. He thinks of nothing except them. Euphemia feels like she’s in her own little world with him, in their bedroom at three in the morning, while the air conditioner whirrs and ticks and he asks her something so unimportant, like what her favorite words are.

And then, Santino leans in and kisses her cheek, the corner of her mouth, and the underside of her jaw to prompt her.

“Amore,” she murmurs, feeling like the breath has been sucked out of her lungs by his longing. His tenderness.

“Oh,” Santino says, against her temple, “I know that one.”

When his stubble tickles her neck, she squirms, shifting away from him so hat she can take a breath; but he chases her, leans in and captures her in his arms so that he can nose the hair by her ear and kiss there.

“Euphie, my gorgeous girl,” he says in the way that wrenches her heart; drenched and drowned in adoration. “Perfetto e tutto mio.”

Santino wraps his arms around her and pulls her to his chest, his fingers tracing constellations on her back where the night dress slips away from her shoulder blades. Sweet Santi, covetous Santi; she is his greatest art piece, his favorite collector’s item, and in these moments she has never felt more treasured. There is something equal parts safe and selfish in wanting someone to treasure you.

“Say it for me, Euphie. You know I love when you do.”

She buries her face into his neck. Her eyes burn. He will go to Baba Yaga tomorrow, and she will have to pretend not to know, or it will wreck her. Euphie considers ways to keep him in bed in the morning; delay him, make him forget about John Wick and this glory that he is chasing forever.

“Sono tuo,” she murmurs. Tears sting at the corners of her eyes If he feels them against his skin, Santino makes no indication than to card his fingers through her hair. “Always, Santi.”

Always, always, always yours.

[peculiarpatches]

𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 - 𝐁𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐱 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

this is part 1 of 4 or 5 (??) parts. if you like this, please give it a like and or reblog (or both). feedback is appreciated, always!! this first chapter contains smut. so if that makes you uncomfortable, this isn’t for you. and again, this is part one of others so there will be more :) 

WARNING: public sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, angst slightly??? but not really??? it’s going to get angsty more later down the road, lmao. so, buckle up. it’s one hell of a ride. enjoy :)

*~*

A flush of regret wipes over my body. The moment our lips touch,  it washes over me like a waterfall. One drop then thousands of drops came pouring down, soaking me until I was drowning in it. Regret & anxiety; Both washes over me and yet,  I  know  what I am doing is wrong but I can't bring myself to stop. A tiny part of me didn't want it to stop, either.  He knew that, I knew that.  Yet, nobody said anything. We didn't have to. We were too busy, too caught up, in each other that we didn't need to talk. No words needed to be spoken, to be said. We knew it was wrong but... if it was so wrong, why did it feel  so right?  A moan escapes past my lips and drips onto his tongue. His hands found their way to my hips, fingers sneakily trailing up my shirt and he curls his fingernails deep into my skin, making another whimper slip out from me;  no matter how hard I tried not to speak or let any noise out, he got me to do the complete opposite.  "Now, now, remember what I said... We've got to keep quiet, okay, baby girl?" He had said this earlier  and yet, it seemed as if he wanted nothing more than to get me to scream and shake.  To be putty in his hands, to melt under his touch..  The little shit was trying anything - everything - to get me to make noise.  And unfortunately, it was working.   I  shouldn't love him and he  shouldn't love me. Yet, here we were; Tangled together  with our lips locked and our hands caressing every body piece we could manage to find.    We were in the most uncomfortable place to do this at, though. We were in one of the closets  of Hawkin's community pool. It was after hours now,  the pool had been closed for some time, they always closed when the sun went down and when the children's fathers got off of work and the mothers had to be quick on their feet and head home to cook them a meal.  A few people were still in the parking lot, a few life guards were also gathering their supplies and getting ready to set, sail, and go home. Yet, Billy told me he had a surprise for me if I stayed past my curfew and past my work schedule.  Of course, I knew what he wanted. I knew what he had up his sleeve.  (The so called surprise, as you may have guess is... *drum roll*  his cock!! What an amazing present to gift someone, right?)   I, being the dumbass that I am, agreed, though.   It wasn't bad, per say. It never was bad. Hell, it only got better within each sacred and secret moment we shared together.  That's where the problem was at; I was tired of being a secret. Tired of hiding from everyone. Tired of feeling used. I wasn't Billy's rag doll he could use and carry with him wherever. I also wasn't his personal sex toy that he could slip his dick into whenever, wherever.  I was tired. So, fucking, tired. I was  exhausted, mentally and physically. Having to keep the secrets buried away, hiding them in a place they can't be broken or seen, it was truly going to be the death of me.  Especially from Steve. I was tired of lying to him.  Steve Harrington was my best friend. Best friends since kindergarten, he and I. I hated that I was hiding my relationship - was it even that? - with Billy to him.  Steve and I went to each other for everything.  Always have, always will. When he and Nancy broke up, he came to me, crying his heart out and drowning my shirts (and pillows and blankets) with tears and snot.  (Thankfully, he cleaned them up so I didn't have to. I would've done it in a heartbeat, though. I loved Steve. Steve is my best friend, I'd do anything for him, as I know he'd do anything for me.   So, lying to him made me feel like the shittiest person alive.)   That night, along with many other restless ones, we  talked  and talked until the sun came up.  I did everything I could to make him happy, to cheer him up. I baked him his favorite cookies and favorite meal once as well to try and make him feel better. Almost burnt the kitchen down while doing so, too. And, okay, maybe, the meal and the cookies didn't work out and I failed. In the end, it put a smile on Steve's face which is all I had been dying to see.  Soda dripped from Steve's nose and burnt his nostrils, he was laughing so hard when the fire alarm went off, letting us know the cookies in the oven were bursting in flames. Luckily, we saved the kitchen from exploding with fire and clouding with smoke. Can't say the same for the cookies, sadly.  From that day and onward, he and I still made jokes about burnt crisp cookies and nearly dying because of trying to bake them together.  It was one of our favorite inside jokes, actually.  ("I went to the store yesterday and I walked up and down the aisles and guess what? Not a single one had burnt crisp cookie dough.")  ("You see this bullshit, Harrington? All the cookies in the world are at this fundraiser expect for burnt crisp cookie dough!"  "Oh, man, I'm going to have to talk to the principal about that one... I cannot believe they'd do something like this.") When I got dumped by  one of the basketball players on the Hawkin's high school team, Steve was the first (and only) one who reached out to me and cheered me up. He rented out a few of our favorite movies together and before they could close, Steve and I were quick to rush to the grocery store and we picked up as much junk food as our arms could carry.   That night - along with others - was full of nothing but contagious laughter, sweet and salty foods, and horrible but too good to put down and look away movies.   All the thoughts of Steve wash away once I  feel Billy's hand dip  into the opening of my underwear, his calloused fingers pushing the thin layer of fabric aside  as his index finger slips between my folds, a gasp leaving me as I feel his touch.  His touch felt like fire among my skin, and I was an ice cube, melting in the palm of his hands.  I could feel myself sinking and sinking, slipping away into the pleasure he was about to bring onto me.  "I love when you make that face," He whispers against my neck, lips drifting across my skin, not quite in contact but not so far away either where I couldn't feel him. His breath was hot and I could smell the peppermint gum as he talked.  "Love hearing those pretty but pornographic moans of yours.... gets my cock so hard, you get me so worked up, baby girl...." Billy's scent was intoxicating. Even right now with the  left over smell of coconut lotion smeared across his skin from lathering himself up early in the morning, he smelled perfect. As perfect as can get. He smelled of coconut  mixed with peppermint and a cologne I couldn't pinpoint on exactly what  or which brand. All the scents together may sound odd and unsatisfying but I was nearly drooling as the different fragrances overwhelmed my senses. That and the fact he pushes his index and middle finger inside me, so easily, without any trouble whatsoever. Him, doing that earned another  gasp to fall off  of my lips as it was so sudden, so unexpected.  I knew I was wet, could feel the puddle of wetness coating the bottom half of my underwear but I hadn't known I was so hot and bothered he could easily slip two fingers into me. I shouldn't act so surprised, this was Billy Hargrove, after all. Billy was one, if not, the most attractive guy in Hawkin's, Indiana. Well...in our age group, anyways. A lot of other students and fellow classmates were far from attractive. (Minus Steve, but of course, he doesn't count. He knows he's attractive, just as much as Billy does. Me, telling him he's cute and everything wouldn't change the fact. He already knows it.) Moments like this, I wish I had a jar I could bottle these memories up and store them away, have a look back upon them some day with a smile on my face. I've never felt so alive, so wanted, needed and loved... not until I met Billy.  He made me feel as if I was on cloud nine and he made me feel as if  I could do anything - everything -  and I wasn't just some girl, some hookup, to him. I was special. Sure, hiding and keeping secrets wasn't the greatest feeling in the world, I'll have to have a talk with him about it, about the way I felt, but as of right now, I wanted to touch him the way he was touching me. I wanted to make him feel the butterflies in the pit of his stomach, the ones I was feeling right now. The ones I always feel when he presses his lips against mine or when he just touches me, in general. Hell, even when he smiles in my direction, holds my hand with his much larger one and or laughs at a not so funny joke I tell. I wanted to make his heart skip a beat, as he did with me. I wanted to make him feel as special as he makes me. Before I could register what I am about to say, those three little words leave my lips before I could put a stop to them.  "I love you."  I couldn't stop the sentence, even if I tried.  Billy said nothing. He hums in reply, but no words leave his mouth. He continues to move his fingers back and forth, curling and scissoring his digits deep inside me. I groan quietly, leaning my head back against the shower tile wall, holding myself up the best I could from the position I was in. "There's a good girl," is all he says. He either doesn't acknowledge what I said or he chose to ignore it. My heart aches at the second option but the feeling goes away rather fast as he's sinking to his knees and spreading my legs far apart, his head guiding up to face my cunt and before I know it, his tongue - his mouth - everything is inside and I feel as if I'm on fire.   "Oh... Oh, Billy..." I mewl,  slowly my eyelids drift close on their own as I press my lower half into his  welcoming mouth, my breathing began to grow heavy as his tongue swirls against my cunt which hardens underneath him.  He grips his fingers into my thighs, more  than likely putting imprints of his nails into my skin by  how hard he pressed them down. I didn't mind a few bruises. The bruises were  a reminder this was all happening and not some form of my imagination.    Even from the position he was in, I could feel the outline of his lips curving upward and I didn't need to look down to see the famous Hargrove smirk sitting there across his face; I could feel him smiling in between my thighs.    He, to my disappointment, pulls away, but he doesn't stay far back for too long. The cheeky little shit only wanted to lock eyes with me, shoot me a wink before diving back down in between my legs, eating me out as if he was starving. Saliva dripped down his chin and I could feel it sliding off of my thighs, too.  His tongue was everywhere, going from my pussy to the inside of my thighs to my clit back and all over again. He was devouring me, eating me out as if we were running out of time which was far from the truth.   I didn't mind it one bit. Wasn't complaining in the slightest.  My only  issue was how close I was getting to an orgasm. The signs were all there, slowly building up. My heart was pounding faster than before, my legs were shaking and my knees began to buckle. It was getting harder to keep upward.  My eyelids  could barely keep open, the familiar fluttery feeling grew bigger and stronger in my stomach. Billy, probably knowing I was close to my peak, pulled away and before he stands up, he pushes his shorts down, letting them hang by his feet. "Next time, princess, I want to see that mouth of yours stuffed with my cock; see you gagging for it, all around me. As of right now, I just want to fuck you and leave you  breathless, now bend over and let me see that pretty pussy of yours, baby. 'm gonna wreck it, have you feeling me for days, have you feeling this cock in your stomach. That's what you want, isn't it? To be fucked like I hate you?"    Before I could reply, he's taking me by the wrist and bending me forward, laying my body against one of the shelves in the closet as he rubs my opening with the head of his cock, sending a shiver to run through my body, goosebumps prickling my skin as I breathe through my nose, closing my eyes. I wait for him, wait for the stretch and the opening of his cock but it doesn't come as quickly as I would have liked.  "I don't, by the way. Hate you." He said, leaning forward whereas his back touches my own, "I'll fuck you like I do but I don't. The feeling is mutual." He said and before I could reply - before I could ask what he meant - he's pushing forward, pressing his cock deep inside me, sinking into me with a growl.   "You're so fucking tight, always so fucking tight." He grunts, hissing through his teeth as he rocks his hips back and forth, his cock going deeper inside me, inch by inch, I feel him. He's all I could feel.  He's all I want to feel.  "Please..... please, Billy." My words are crumbling together, my body was breaking apart.  "Tell me," He purred,  his breath lightly  fanning against my ear as he spoke,  his voice was low and irresistible, it made every part of me shake as he spoke. "Tell me what you want. You have to speak up in order to get what you want, love.... So, tell me." "Just you, you, you, you." I'm begging now. I can feel myself getting closer and closer. I'm holding onto the shelf so tightly because I'm afraid I'm going to fall over.   The feeling is growing, the bubbling sensation is getting larger and I can feel myself getting ready to burst.  "Please, Billy, fuck me like you hate me. Fuck me like I'm some whore on the street. Fuck me-" My words are cut off by the way he pulls out only to slam back into me. Him, doing this  - the sudden force and movement - is what makes me come undone. I knew I wasn't going to last long.  Luckily, neither does he. "Oh, fuck. Already came, did you? Such a good girl. Fuck~ you're such a good girl for me. 'm gonna cum too, fuck, I'm so close, (Y/N)." His words, much like mine were, slur together, his thrusts become sloppy and messy. And before I know it, he's cumming with a cry of my name, filling me up as he does so.  "Shit...." He groans, pulling back slowly as he then pulls me up with him, pulling me around to face him as he kisses me suddenly,  the taste of myself still strong on his tongue. It shouldn't be a turn on but it was. However, I was too exhausted for a round two any time soon.  I kiss him back, smiling against his lips.  We stay in this position for a few seconds, saying nothing because the kiss says what all that I needed to hear. He loved me too.  Pulling back, Billy smiles and moves a few pieces of hair out from my face, leaning forward, he captures my forehead with his lips, kissing it with so much softness and affection, I feel all warm and tingly on the inside.  This is the Billy nobody but me got to see. This is the Billy I was in love with.  Not the one he portrayed for everyone in town to see. He didn't have to play pretend, to put on a show, I loved him for who he was. Even the fake persona he wore. I knew it wasn't him, not at all.  "I love you."  Something flashes across his face the moment I say those three words, there's a certain  look in his eyes I can't make out but he grins nonetheless and pulls me closer to him, hand finding their way to my cheeks as he  moves to kiss me the way he had done before. "And I love you."  Of course, I should have known he was lying.  It was Billy Hargrove, after all.  He didn't date.  Didn't fall in love.  All he cared about was the person that looked back at him in the reflection of his mirror and getting into girl's pants, no matter who it was.  More importantly, he didn't fall in love with me.  It was all a lie, all a trick, and I was nothing more than a puppet on strings for him to toy around with.  I didn't know this until the next day. If I had known, I wouldn't have given myself up to him so easily. 

I was -  I still am - a fool for falling for his little white lies.  I should have known.  All the red flags were there but..... I guess I was just color blind.  I just wanted to be loved. And I thought he loved me..... I really did. I guess I was just another girl to put on the top of his list. 

[prof-peach]

Hello professor, I have a pretty heavy question I’m afraid, but I’m running out of people to ask, so I’ll try my best to keep it PG13.

It’s my Mienshao, Daisy. Up until recently, she and I were members of a police task force tasked with rooting out illegal Pokemon smuggling rings and underground high stakes tournaments. We’ve been partners for a long time, me and Daisy, we grew up together, and I dare say we made a great team. But then things went wrong.

For the sake of security I can’t go into too much detail, but we were participating in a raid when we got ambushed. Someone must have tipped the smugglers off, because they were waiting for us when we got there. During the firefight, there was an explosion, a gas tank got set on fire by a charizard, I believe, and Daisy and I happened to be close. She got out with a few minor burns and scrapes, I... Did not.

I’ll spare you the gory details, but I have been confined to a wheel chair ever since, and I am due to be fitted for a prosthetic leg next week.

I won’t lie, the transition has been hard for everybody, me, my friends, my family. My other Pokémon have been hovering around me like over protective nannies for weeks. But I think out of all of us, Daisy has been taking it the hardest. Half of the day she spends locked to my side like a bodyguard, threatening to punch anyone that gets too close into oblivion. And the other half, well...

She’s started putting herself through some kind of hellish self training routine. Doing katas until she all but collapses from exhaustion, running laps for hours, fighting every Pokemon she can convince to fight, wild or trained. Daisy’s always been tough, and she’s always loved training, but this... This isn’t training, it’s a death march. I’m getting extremely worried, and that’s not even everything!

She’s stopped eating her favorite foods, deliberately choosing ones I know she hates, she won’t let me pet her anymore, she just steps out of reach, trying not to look at me. But most worryingly, she’s started cutting off her whiskers. She’s always been so proud of her whiskers, she groomed them every day, always got grumpy when I teased her for having a big ol’ mustache. Now anytime they get longer than an inch, she slices them off with her claws and throws them in fireplace, like some kind ceromony.

I’m almost certain Daisy feels guilty for coming out mostly unscathed, when I didn’t. She’s always been a bit protective, even before we joined the police, and she’s saved my life multiple times out in the field, but now she feels like she’s failed me, I think. I’ve tried to convince her that it wasn’t her fault, but that only seems to redouble her efforts. I’m terrified she’s going to burn herself out if she keeps going like this, and I don’t know what to do.

I know this is a pretty heavy question, but I I’m not sure who else to ask. Is there anything I can do to convince her that she doesn’t need to hurt herself like this? Or, something? Just anything to help! Losing my leg was jarring, but losing Daisy would be unbearable!... I just... I just want my best friend to be okay.

I am sorry for what you’ve been through, I cannot begin to understand what it’s like to be in your shoes, but like all recovery, physical or mental, this will take a fair bit of time to get past, you both may never fully return to how things were, but it can get better and you can both return to a full life together with work and dedication.

I’ve certainly seen Pokemon go to extreme lengths after dangerous incidents to protect their loved ones or themselves, in this case it would be wise to assume your pokemons suffering with a hefty bill of PTSD, and needs some actual therapy to handle the feelings and thoughts they’re having. We have facilities to accommodate that if you’re local to Johto, but most Pokemon centres will be able to put you in contact with reliable and certified practices to begin unravelling the issues that now plague Daisy.

That she considers herself to have come away reasonably unscathed is not true, yes your life has physically changed, but she needs to step back and take a look at her life too. Everything’s different now, and more specifically how she’s treating herself and handling her feelings. If that’s not trauma and injury, I don’t know what else it could be. You both came away with damage that day, physical or not. The first step is to help her see that, and to begin to understand that despite this all, you can both continue to move forward together if you can overcome the injury together, it is an event you shared, and you two can aid each others recovery with time and care.

There’s some seriously gifted therapists out there, those who study for years and can help far more than me, they’ll take time to break down the events, and start to really get into the feelings that your partner is going through. The cycle for Daisy right now comes around to self-punishment, and seems to be stuck on a loop. She needs time and space to process her feelings of guilt, grief, fear and loss, facing them instead of burying herself in her rigorous training. While it is difficult to discuss, you two have a strong bond that means you could talk with her. Try to remind her who’s truly responsible, she may be blaming herself, which is pretty common in these situations, but at the root of it, you were doing your routine job, and the bad guys, the Pokemon smugglers and goons are to blame. THEY caused the issue, not her, and while it may not sink in right away it’s worth saying, and sticking to. You said you told her that it wasn’t her fault, which is the gut reaction, perhaps giving her a logical target instead of herself will work better for now. Reiterating the true issue, and taking the heat off of her may help with other tasks such as self care, later down the recovery road.

Her guilt will feel terrible, but it kind of works as a protector, keeping her distanced from the worse, more overwhelming feelings of helplessness and powerlessness. In fact the guilt that masks this all will slowly make things worse over time. That underlying intense emotion below the guilt is what you both need to work through, but more than anything, she needs to face it, in her own time, come to terms with it, and eventually (hopefully) come to an understanding that life is an endless cycle of events, things will happen, but you have to pick yourself up and turn the lemons into lemonade. She could have lost you that day, that you came away with your life is a miracle, and now you two get more time together because of that. Luck isn’t something that runs out, it’s not like there’s only so much of it to go around, it is like wining the lottery. Sometimes 20 people win, other times no one does. It’s hard to accept, but there’s no greater order to stuff that happens, but when we can come to this conclusion, it’s oddly freeing. I’ve seen a fair few Pokemon in a symilar state who can move on when they realise there’s an odd randomness to the world and everything that goes on.

This is a job for someone with far greater skills than I, but you must help her by also looking after yourself, laugh when you can, show her that your life is still very full, and that you have loved ones, and joy to share with others. You mentioned that you’re due a prosthetic, and though the transition will be long and no doubt a little difficult at first, getting yourself back on two feet (kind of) will show her, and your other Pokemon that you’re willing to move forward. I think there’s a lot to be said about talking during this all. She wants to fight, to be strong, if this is how she’s going to cope, fine. If she’s out training, sit with her, spend whatever time you can by her side, as she’s taking this the hardest. You don’t have to say a thing, just try to do your best, without putting yourself in too much discomfort or pain. Reminding her who would be devastated if it had been her who got hurt, if she was not around, may help ground her back in reality a bit. You both got granted a gift that day, you came away alive, if she works so hard she burns out, that gift was wasted. She can use her kindness, and strength to help you, she can pass her knowledge and skill forward, but it’s hard to help others, and do your best if you’re exhausted beyond reason. Kind of like trying to give people bread from a basket but the damn basket is empty yknow? You got to take time to refill so you can help those around you again, so you have some bread to give. I know, probably sounds a little dumb but it’s always been the way I remember it.

Another very useful thing I’ve found with trauma survivors would be meeting others who have been in the same position. There’s plenty of support groups for both people and Pokemon who have been through events that left them in a difficult situation, emotionally and physically. Even here at the lab we have many species who have been left without limbs, with life changing damage, and a lot of them also have the emotional trauma too. She would probably do well to spend time with them, you can send her to a resort to retreat and recoup erase, mix with others who were just as angry as she is now, or you can take time to go with her to groups to interact with others. It’s one thing to have humans help, but it’s a whole other level of connection when Pokemon can help their own. They bond quicker, trust faster, and generally are more open to listening when it’s coming from a place of mutual experience. If she had time to talk to pokemon who actually lost their trainers, or parts of themselves, she may find some peace, even if only temporarily.

Don’t mention the whiskers, and where possible don’t offer her foods she actively likes, but also not ones she actively dislikes. Just for now. Start the ball rolling with just plain simple things that are neither good or bad. Indifferent is better than bad right now, the punishment she’s inflicting on herself will need addressing further, so contact a therapist, they use Rotom or porygon to translate from poke-speech to human language, and the repair can begin with a registered professional. My advice is not sound proof, I certainly feel like I have missed something important, it’s a big response, but it’s a start in the right direction, and should you come up to any further issues, message back and update us with what’s going on. With work you two will be on track to recover. Remember, patience is the biggest thing here, you two have history, and a therapist will no doubt take the sessions as a pair, and work with you to help Daisy feel less guilty over time. I hope you both find peace, and that both of you repair in due time. Good luck with the new leg, a step towards recovery for sure.

[alirhi]

...goddess help me...

This fucking episode. *deep breath* This... This episode is where I'm expecting to get some serious hate. Let me just get this out of the way right up front:

I. Hate. Zemo.

I do not find him sympathetic, or funny, or charming. I find him creepy and annoying. I did not like him in CA:CW and I do not like him in TFATWS. If you are pro-Zemo, you are not going to like my version of this show from here on out. Just find something else to read and don't bother me about it. You've got the actual canon, so go enjoy that.

Got it? Good. Now, on to the main event!

Episode 3: The Power Broker

First of all, Sam doesn't let Bucky walk in there alone. No matter Bucky's (flimsy and nonsensical) argument, Sam's like "hell no. I go in with you, or you don't go in." The main reason for this isn't to keep Bucky from breaking Zemo out of prison (with decent writing, he would never do that) - it's so that Sam witnesses Zemo taunting Bucky with/about the trigger words. because Zemo is a piece of shit.

Since he doesn't know the full story, Sam is confused, but he files this interaction away to ask Bucky about later. He's listening to Zemo acknowledging that Bucky was "not conscious for most of [his] imprisonment" (which, yes, clearly refers to the time he spent frozen, but can also mean while he was under their control as TWS/"The Asset" - also, key word: imprisonment) and when he calls Bucky a means to an end, Sam scowls, looking ready to go off on him, but he waits. They've got more important issues.

Neither of them entertains the thought of breaking Zemo out for even a nanosecond. He does that shit himself. And literally the only reason I'm sticking with him getting out at all is because I want to address some truly egregious moments linked directly to him in the show. Zemo makes them think he's setting them on the trail when really he's just sending them to his motor pool. Bucky and Sam are confused until they see Zemo in his stolen guard uniform, then they're both angry and want to ship him right back to prison, but he strikes a deal with them: "My help for my temporary freedom. Creating super soldiers cannot be allowed to continue; let me finish my work, and then do with me as you will." He has no intention of going quietly back to prison, obviously, and they're not stupid enough to believe otherwise, but they believe they can keep him on a short leash, so they agree for now. Anything to bring down the Flag Smashers and whoever created them.

After the title, we cut to Raynor on the phone in her office. She's agitated, fiddling with things on her desk. "No, sir," she's practically growling, "it was disrupted. - Walker did! - It's not my fault your new attack dog got off-leash!" She pauses, huffs, and says more calmly, "No. Of course not. I'm sorry. - Well, I don't see how, with the new Cap strutting around barking orders! - What am I supposed to do? Tell Captain America in front of a dozen witnesses that he can't have his predecessor's favorite pet because we're not done reprogramming him? I didn't see that going over too well. I made a call. - No. No, no, no, we can still use him. The work's not finished, but he still trusts me. He'll be back." A pause as she listens. Angry again, she snaps, "What do you want me to do, shove a tracker up his ass? He'll be back, and we'll pick right back up where we left off! - Don't worry, sir, the Asset will be fully compliant and ready to use soon. I'll make sure of it. - Yes, sir. You, too." She hangs up and tosses her phone on the couch, grumbling, "Dick."

Cut back to Sam, Bucky, and Zemo getting going on their trip to Madripoor. On the plane, Sam wants to talk to Bucky about what he's learned so far, but doesn't want to bring it up in front of Zemo... until the notebook incident reminds him that Zemo already knows more about Bucky than he does.

After Zemo's line about the list, Sam angrily corrects him: "You mean people HYDRA used The Winter Soldier to hurt." When Zemo shrugs and his response is basically along the lines of "what's the difference" Sam is like "oh hell no."

"Those words you were reciting at him," he reminds Zemo, "what were they, Russian? They clearly meant something. They were supposed to do something. What are they?" "Sam, let it go," Bucky pleads, unable to look at either of them. "It's nothing." "You wanna drown in your guilt, that's fine," Sam snaps, "but make sure it's for the right reasons." He turns back to Zemo, who's smiling at this exchange because he's a monster and thinks Bucky's suffering is fucking funny. "I asked you a question, Zemo. What did those words do?" "They activate the Winter Soldier programming," Bucky grudgingly admits. He doesn't want to talk about it, but he's sure as hell not going to let Zemo speak for him. "Or, they did, before the Wakandans got all that shit out of my head." "It's a shame," Zemo says with a smirk. "Imagine the possibilities that come with perfect obedience." "I think you mean 'slavery'," Sam growls, "and I think you're in the wrong crowd to be looking so pleased about it. Remember that we can send your ass back to prison any time." "Of course," Zemo agrees, but with an arrogant smile that shows he doesn't believe for a second that these two have any real power over him. Still, he bides his time and sits back quietly, watching Bucky fidget with the notebook. Sam turns back to Bucky, seeing his discomfort; he won't let the topic go, though, not yet. He just softens his tone. "So, they 'activated the Winter Soldier'? What exactly does that mean?" Bucky shrugs, still not looking up. "Pretty much what he said - perfect obedience. What little consciousness they left me between cryo and the chair was squashed down, locked away. And I did whatever I was told, exactly the way they told me to." It finally clicks. He'd had his suspicions before, of course, but now Sam gets it. Visibly horrified, he stares at this quiet, broken man, and finally sees the truth of what he'd been through for 70 years: "They stripped away your autonomy. Shit, Bucky, they didn't even let you be a person. That's..." He swallows, looking like he'll be sick any minute. "That's awful, man. I'm so sorry." When Bucky tries to shrug it off and downplay it again, Sam gets angry. "Look at me!" He waits; it takes a few seconds, but Bucky reluctantly looks up and is surprised to see just how upset Sam is on his behalf. "It wasn't your fault. None of it. When Steve said you didn't have a choice, I had no idea... You really, truly had no choice; not even the ability to choose. That's horrifying." "I doubt it would make much difference to the people he's killed," Zemo points out snidely. "Or their families. Let's ask Tony Stark, shall we?" "You shut the hell up," Sam growls. He watches Bucky flinch and make that face - the face he's starting to really fucking hate - that says he agrees with Zemo. Bucky still can't see things the way Sam does; he still feels the guilt and shame, and even when he himself pointed out his lack of agency under HYDRA, it didn't click for him that Sam is right, not Zemo.

It's too much, too soon. Sam sees that and decides to change the subject, to give Bucky some time to process. He nods at the notebook, and they have their little Marvin Gaye debate, where Sam is over the top about it on purpose, because Bucky needs the distraction.

Of course, Zemo ruins it by opening his big mouth again and reminding Bucky of more trauma: his time fighting in WWII. That's why Sam latches onto the bit about Madripoor; to keep the focus not only on the task at hand, but off of Bucky's past that he clearly still can't cope with.

"James... You will have to become someone you claim is gone." Sam is officially ready to throw Zemo out a window. 😂 The only reason he doesn't jump to Bucky's defense again and basically tell Zemo to fuck himself (in a PG-13 way 🙄) is because Bucky's, as Sam pointed out in ep2, a grown-ass man, and because he's just learned how few decisions this poor man has been able to make in his life. Sam doesn't want to come across as another "handler," deciding everything for him, even if he does think this plan is stupid and needlessly cruel.

At the bar, when asked if he wants "the usual", Sam just casually waves the bartender off like "nah". Zemo already said they had business to attend to, so it's not like anyone would be suspicious that now's probably not a good time to be doing weird shots lol. (wtf even was that? I'm not sure I want to know, but...what part of the snake did he drop into that drink?)

Sam's not an idiot (I'm really so sick of this trend of turning intelligent characters into morons because the writers can't think of any other way to move their plot along) so his cell phone has been off this whole time. No sudden call from Sarah to put them all in danger. There was really no point to that, anyway; Sharon likely would have killed Selby for talking about Nagle with or without the excuse of "saving" Sam and Bucky. I mean, it's not like they know who fired that shot, ever.

"They cleared the Bionic Staring Machine," Sam still jokes, but he follows it with, "and they think he's a mass-murderer." "They think?" Sharon stares at him incredulously. "Didn't he kill pretty much everyone he's ever met?" "Wow." Sam glances back at Bucky. "She really is awful now." To Sharon, he adds, "You met Steve; do you really think he'd have defied 117 countries to protect someone evil?" "He did it for Bucky," she points out. "Let's face it - Bucky could blow up half the planet, and Steve's loyal-to-a-fault ass would still take a bullet for him." "You know I'm sitting right here, right? I can hear you." "Look, I don't think you're evil, Bucky," Sharon assures him. "But I know you killed a lot of people for HYDRA." "I'm not denying it." "He didn't have a choice," Sam snaps, glaring at them both. "But we're not getting into that right now. My point is, the government's afraid of Bucky, and they still pardoned him. All you did was steal something. I'm sure they can be persuaded to see reason." "The day the US government sees reason," Sharon quips, rolling her eyes, "is the day I sprout real wings and fly off into the sunset." "Careful, Icarus," Bucky mocks with a smirk, "the sun and brand new wings don't exactly go together." Then he shrugs and glances at Sam. "But she's not wrong."

At the party that night, it takes a few minutes (grumpy old man Bucky's not sure how to feel about the music lol) but a peek of pre-war Bucky comes out to play: they were told to "blend in", so he dances. At first he's just bobbing around alone looking stoic and out of place, but soon he's smiling and dancing between two attractive people - one male, one female. Sam is surprised, but before he can tease him for it, Sharon comes to get them all. Even she's a little "wait what?" at Bucky having a little fun lol. (recovery is not linear, guys. trauma doesn't mean "perpetually miserable, no fun, doesn't even know how to smile." in my TFATWS, Bucky gets his lighter moments; real ones, not humor at his expense)

When they find Nagle, Bucky's the one who notices and opens the secret door, while Sam keeps an eye on Zemo. Bucky catches Zemo trying to grab that gun; closes the drawer on his hand before opening it and taking the gun away. "Nice try." Nagle tries to get away while there's only one person watching him, but Sam catches him and forces him back into his seat. With a bruising grip on the back of Zemo's neck, Bucky drags him back over to where he and Sam can both keep an eye on him. Nagle is killed in the shootout as they're trying to escape; Zemo still runs off, blows shit up, and comes back with the stolen car so he's not totally useless.

I had no problem with Zemo being the one to kill Nagle; Nagle was the worst and def had to die, and Zemo has never had an issue killing anyone. Where I took issue with this scene was Bucky and Sam being dumb enough to let Zemo wander and get his hands on a gun. Nope. Not happening.

Anyway, shootout! Explosions! Funny banter! The seat thing, which is my favorite nod to CW ever lol... And then the conversation on the plane...

"You okay?" "Yeah." Sam sighs. "Just thinking." "About how to get Sharon that pardon you dangled in front of her?" He shakes his head. "About how Nagle referred to 'The Winter Soldier Program" like it was some kind of after school club; like you weren't standing right there. And 'the American test subject' like... Like Isaiah wasn't even a real person." He turns to face Bucky, looking angry and weary. "Makes me wonder how many times... How many times are we gonna run around in the same circles before people learn? And how many people need to get crushed underfoot in the meantime?" "Did you really just equate me with Isaiah?" Bucky frowns, not sure how to react to that. "That man is a hero." Sam opens his mouth to say something, but his phone goes off and Zemo approaches at the same time, effectively cutting off their conversation.

When they get to Riga and Zemo tries to guilt trip them over Sokovia, Bucky deadpan reminds him, "Neither of us were involved in that fight." "I doubt you'd have been much help if you were." He shrugs. "Probably not. But I like to save my guilt for events I was actually present for. It's a thing." Zemo laughs. "Fair enough."

Bucky goes on his walk, and meets up with Ayo.

[tundrainafrica]

Hi, i saw some time ago you compared Royai to Levihan, would you mind elaborating more on their similarities? I ship both and looking at they compared blow my mind

YES. Beautiful ask anon! As always, sorry for only getting into this now, my inbox is still a mess I am currently trying to make sense of. But legit, I could talk about this for hours. Cause I’m that fucking simp who just randomly goes on Youtube and watches the Riza breakdown vs. Lust  scene just to see some GREATTT acting and some great crumbs. 

So anyway, will be moving on now to this really long and--mind you--uncurated rant. 

Disclaimer though: Although I have watched all the fullmetal stuff, from the first anime, to brotherhood to the manga and have lurked in the fanfiction sites long before (like fam, this anime is literally my childhood it’s such a big part of my life that when I hear ‘mustang’ I think of roy mustang not the car), but at this point, the main story line for me is a blur and I probably just remember only the Roy scenes and the Royai scenes well. 

I was not a big fan of Edwin for multiple reasons. 

Warning: Spoilers abound for FMA so read at your own risk. And for people who watch FMA but not AOT, spoilers abound for AOT is well.

So there are a lot of similarities between Levihan and Royai and I think this is the reason why Levihan definitely appealed to me a lot as a couple. Royai after all was my OG ‘I think I wanna be in this type of relationship’ type of couple. 

Military Setting

I’ve always found these types of relationships interesting cause I like to think, you’re in such a high stakes and very stringent atmosphere where you could die at any moment and you’re constantly doing such morally grey things. And with that, people have the tendency to either close in on themselves and just keep to themselves or just go crazy over time. Yet you have people who find the time to form CLOSE and almost ROMANTIC bonds with your fellow soldiers

And I just like the process of exploring how this happens. And you know what makes it juicier? 

    2. The commander to the subordinate dynamic (with a twist)

The boss to the follower dynamic because Royai and Levihan are both incredibly healthy and stable relationships but they both come from something taboo right? A commander to subordinate relationship? So we ask ourselves? How did they both make it work? 

Well, what I notice is despite the implied respect Riza and Levi both hold for Roy and Hange respectively, due to their positions in the military, do you notice Hange and Roy still have respect over Levi and Riza’s opinions. I cannot remember all the scenes in both shows but remember that scene where Riza would just stop Roy half way into fighting when it’s raining because sometimes he does forget that he can’t do his fire thing when it’s raining? It shows obviously that Riza could undermine his decisions if she finds them completely idiotic or out of the blue. Or that scene where Roy was curbstomping Envy when he found out Envy killed Hughes? 

So, the thing is Levi and Hange worked like this too. Even before Hange became commander, I think there was an already implied hierarchical difference between being ‘squad leader’ and being ‘team captain.’ Squad leader’s are generally in a higher position and command a much larger group and do you see how Levi approaches Hange? Like when telling her off about risking her life when trying to capture the titan? 

And even when she was commander, that telepathy scene?? Can we appreciate, that when Hange became commander (compared to when Erwin was commander), Levi took the reins of a lot of the leading in the survey corps, as if he understood his job wasn’t just to follow Hange but to take care of her? 

Like I’m sure Riza saw her job more as a caretaker to Roy more than his subordinate and seeing this in Levihan was just fantastic.

And another thing I love about both of them...

  3. They were just the two competent level headed people

This is such a trope for me. I cannot handle couples where someone is just not competent or is so obviously underpowered compared to the other. Like I want them to be able to handle themselves without the other. And even when they’re alone they’re doing shit and you just find out later, by the way I have this bf/gf/partner who is equally competent. But when we’re together we just share one brain cell because we can practically melt when we’re safe with the other. 

And the thing is since they’re in a military setting we don’t see them ‘practically melt,’ we can usually just pick out the crumbs (ehem 126), and the fact that these crumbs are such rare gems, makes it all the jucier. 

And here’s the thing, in animes and in stories, this ‘competent people’ couple is usually supporting cast cause I dunno? Nobody wants to hear about the competent couple who just figured out they like each other and they just like hanging out with each other for some reason? 

And most adventure stories are underdog stories where we watch people start of as dead weight and get stronger which is not boring per se but I dunno, these couples usually dont’ appeal to me fsr because I’m all for the power couple dynamic and the protagonists always have something going on making them doubt their strength so yeah.  And there’s usually this token love interest who’s not as strong and tries not to be useless but is kinda dead weight.

4. Their special abilities? 

Levi and Hange are a power couple the way Roy and Riza are. When these two couples were introduced into their respective stories, they were all well established as bad asses. We have humanity’s strongest, humanity’s smartest then in FMA we have the flame alchemist one of the strongest alchemists and we have Riza who’s crazy good with a gun. 

5. They were never that in your face couple

As said above, I really love competent people ships but nobody really likes reading about people being competent and having their level headed shit together so these characters end up with more of supporting character energy who have their ‘big damn heroes’ moments where they swoop in and save the protagonist. 

And the thing is, since they’re supporting characters, there’s so much more room to move when contemplating such couples because the crumbs are there? But at the same time they’re not there? And since I like exploring my own headcanons about those ‘boring’ yet incredibly stable and mature relationships, these tend to be my favorite characters to shoehorn into my spotify playlists.

Edwin and Eremika respectively have more ‘in your face’ crumbs and I dunno, their crumbs for me always seemed to be too obviously there where I was like ‘okay cute relationship’ but  ‘I wouldn’t wanna be in a relationship like that’  kinda way. 

And since main protagonist romantic subplots crumbs are already ‘in my face’ I end up thinking to myself, what’s there to headcanon?

And like they go through so much more problems romance wise since obviously they are the protagonist. But I guess for me, I never liked those couples who were so obviously together and go through problems that bystanders are aware of. Because I dunno, people might not agree with me but it doesn’t sit well with me when EVERYBODY knows about the problems between two certain people in a relationship. 

I always liked those couples who just start off as two people hanging out together and then like five years you find out, they live together and have five cats and it turns out they’ve been married for two of those three years. 

And power couples just make it work? Because the stories tend to focus on them being competent people more than being in love so when the coupling actually happens it’s like: 

“Wow you live together and have five cats, you worked so hard for it, I’m so happy for you.” 

Instead of you know, watching people go through like 3456 instances of miscommunication drama just to end up in a still seemingly doubtful relationship.

6. Iconic scenes for Levihan and Royai? 

And here’s the beautiful thing about the crumbs of both of these ships, they are incredibly apparent when the stakes are high and this is *chef’s kiss.* This is literally the climax, the peak to such subtle crumbs. Like okay, fine it’s satisfying to see the main protagonist and their main love interest doing shit and loving each other when the stakes are high like in Season 2 of AOT with Mikasa thinking she’s gonna die so she confesses to Eren or maybe that Naruto and HInata scene in the Pain Arc where Hinata just pops in and saves Naruto and kinda dies in the process

But can we all agree that there is something very very very satisfying about seeing two people who are probably not or are probably dating just going crazy for each other when the stakes are high? Like yo, come on. 

My favorite scenes for Royai: The Lust fight scene, the Envy fight scene and lastly, the scene where Roy opens the gates to save Riza and goes blind. Can we just appreciate the fact that Roy risked his Colonel dreams to save Riza by going blind??

And for Levihan? I’m sure Levihans are tired of hearing the chapter numbers but 115? That’s fucking iconic, Hange ltierally jumped into the river with Levi and please tell me that is not a parallel to Roy opening the gates for an already half dead Riza. Mind you, Hange did not even know if Levi would make it or not and she probably didn’t know if she would make it or not either. Any of the soldiers could have literally just shot into the river and nicked them with bullets.  She just literally abandoned everything and wooshed to the river. 

And I had this convo with a few other people and we were thinking about what if it was anyone else who found Levi. And we came to the conclusion that IT HAD TO BE HANGE. Because somehow, I feel like Hange would have been one of the only few, if not the only one who would have gathered up the courage to jump into the river and risk their own life to save Levi. 

And for the next part... Disclaimer: This is just my opinion, please let’s not start a ship war.

Like with the war on twitter “Levihan vs. Eruri,” I started to reflect as well on whether or not Erwin would have saved Levi if he was there instead of Hange but I think it is less likely that Erwin would have saved Levi. Erwin probably wouldn’t have agreed with the rumbling definitely but I cannot help but think, Erwin approached his commander position like a chess master and with this, approached Levi as a superior while Hange approached Levi as an equal and a best friend. 

So if, saving Erwin was just going to mess with plans let’s say to manipulate the Yaegerists for some greater purpose, would Erwin have just let Levi die? 

7. The magic is no one fits Roy or Riza perfectly.

I had these same thoughts with Shikatema vs. Levihan and now Royai vs. Levihan. So comparing their dynamics, I just have to say, that none of them fit each other perfectly. Hange has Riza and Roy crumbs and Levi has Riza and Roy crumbs too. 

Like Roy is some ridiculously strong (Levi) superior (Commander Hange) with a seemingly goofy personality (Hange). Riza is the subordinate (Levi) who’s equally reliable but not as overpowered (Hange) with a very strict but very obviously emotionally constipated personality (Levi) 

Like if you put Levihan in some of the token Royai moments. Like the Lust fight? I think Levi would have done something similar to Riza. Okay, he wouldn’t have broken down right then but he would have done something similar to what Roy did when he found out Envy killed Hughes. 

I’m convinced Hange would have had a breakdown which is more of an in between between what Roy (Envy fight) and Riza (Lust fight) had in their respective fights. I mean 115 is proof enough that Hange ain’t playing when her bebeluvs is in danger. 

8. And towards the end of the series?

Okay this is where the comparisons just kinda diverge because this part makes me sad. In the end game, Royai worked together. Riza became the eyes of Roy when he was making shit explode in the final battle coz he was blind. 

And Hange and Levi were completing each other towards the of the AOT end right? Not just with the jian bird references with having parallel injuries. In the final battle though when Levi was out of commission due to the explosion, Hange was the one fighting with the crew until 132. And the moment she died, Levi stepped up and fought right? 

Like they had something similar going on, where these two were covering for each other and taking care of the kids. It’s just that compared to Royai who were explicitly working together, we have Hange covering for Levi right after he got injured and Levi stepping up to cover for Hange after she died. 

AND I can’t help but think, literally post time skip just could not handle Levihan working together huh? Is that how competent Levi and Hange are as soldiers that Yams couldn’t let them work together just one last time? Like he knew it would mess with the story if he lets Levi and Hange lead at full power?

Which brings me to last point, and the point that makes me saddest.

9. About them being endgame? 

Okay, so it wasn’t confirmed that Roy and Riza ended up together because Roy still had his fuhrer goals but AT LEAST THEY HAD A CHANCE? Like their last scene in the show was still them together? And Riza still at least got to follow him? 

Levihan… They just… shit just happened and we all know what happened and now I’m reading fanfiction and crying over fcitoonal characters to pass the quarantine.

Anyway, if you reached this point, thank you for reading. And thank you for the question anon!

[adenei]

Hogwarts Sex Ed.

There’s an extreme lack of Sex Ed at Hogwarts fics out there so, as a result of yesterdays HP Collab Chat, here’s a fun little one shot of Dumbledore teaming up with Madam Pomfrey to deliver ‘the talk’ to our favorite Gryffindors!

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

The Gryffindor students were entering the Transfiguration classroom on the second Saturday of term. 

“What do you think this is about?” Seamus could be heard asking.

“Dunno, but I hope it doesn’t last all day. The weather’s brilliant, and I want to go outside,” Parvati pouted.

“Hermione, don’t wake me up if they’re going to teach us about how to study for our NEWTs, I don’t think I could take another class like that,” Ron groaned.

“Oh, come on, Ron it wasn’t that bad,” Hermione admonished. She sat down next to Ron in one of the two-person desks in the middle row. Neville and Harry sat across from them. It looked like they were paired with the Hufflepuffs for today’s special lesson.

Madam Pomfrey was at the front of the room, speaking with Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. She seemed to hand them a stack of parchment and quills. Professor McGonagall came around and handed the parchment and quills out to each of the Gryffindors before using her wand to pass out the ink.

Some of the students picked up the quills and McGonagall said, “There is no reason for you to write your name on the parchment. Nothing is being turned in.”

“Good morning, students,” Madam Pomfrey began, taking the attention from McGonagall. “Please forgive us for not telling you what this class is about. We like to keep it a surprise for you. Today we’ll be speaking to you about-”

“Ah, good, I’m not late!” Professor Dumbledore had strode into the classroom.

“Professor Dumbledore, I assure you we can handle this,” Professor McGonagall intervened.

“I’ve no doubt you can, Minerva, but as Headmaster I do feel it is my duty to make sure our older students are informed so that they’re safety remains intact.” Dumbledore turned to the sixth years. “It is no doubt that you are all getting older, and may be experiencing certain...feelings that are beginning to develop. I will not, as they say, beat around the bush any longer. Today we will be talking to you about safe sex.”

A pin drop could have been heard in the classroom, as it was deathly quiet. Some students had sunk down into their seats while others stared wide-eyed, not quite believing what they’d just heard. Hermione felt her face grow hot, and she was suddenly hyper aware of how close Ron was to her. Why hadn’t she chosen to sit next to Harry, or even Neville this once!

“Oh, come now, come now. Sex is a completely normal act in life, and you’d be barmy to believe that we teachers are unaware of what likely goes on in empty classrooms and broom closets. This is why we are thankful for our Prefects and their patrols. We figure you’d much rather be caught by your peers than us. But I digress.”

Dumbledore looked around the room, the familiar twinkle in his eye. “You should, of course, be aware of the implications that may arise should you choose to engage in such activities. First and foremost, consent is of utmost importance. Do not do anything your partner is not comfortable with. If it is not a clear yes, it is a no. Am I understood?” This was the most sincere part of Dumbledore’s lesson, and he wanted to make sure it was addressed first.

“I would like you to write down the following sentence on your parchment: ‘I promise that I will respect my partner if I choose to engage in sexual actions.’ All of the students obeyed, and looked up as they watched their ink disappear before their eyes. 

“Not to worry, students,” Professor Sprout explained, “ The ink disappears and reappears on our parchment up here. That way, if you have any questions, you can write them down anonymously and we can answer them to save you some embarrassment.” She chuckled.

“Wonderful! Now that we have the consent understanding out of the way...love can be a beautiful thing, and should not be mistaken with lust, which in your hormonal teenage bodies, can run amok. This is all completely natural of course, so don’t be afraid of it. Make sure you trust the person you’re fooling around with, and use protection.

“I trust that your families have gone over the contraceptive spells, but for the sake of our Muggleborn students, Madam Pomfrey will demonstrate the appropriate male and female charms.”

He gestured to Madam Pomfrey who stepped forward. She first went over the male charm, and required all the boys to practice. Hermione did her best to remain looking forward so that she wasn’t clearly watching Ron practice the spell. She could tell how red and blotchy his face was from embarrassment out of the corner of her eye. Madam Pomfrey repeated the same process for the girls, and this time it was Ron’s turn to try and look away. 

“You’ll do well to remember that it is most effective when both charms are cast, but it still is not foolproof. Pregnancy is a very real thing, and can happen to anyone engaging in sexual intercourse, even if both charms are cast. Your mind must be in the right spot to successfully cast the charm, or you risk conception, whether intentional or not. The charms also only have a thirty minute limit, so please do not fall under the impression that you can cast the charm hours in advance on the off chance you may engage in such activities.”

“Not that we condone any of these activities in the slightest,” Professor McGonagall expressed sternly.

“You’ll also do well to know that you can transmit disease through sexual acts if you are not careful. Hopefully, this should not be an issue for you here, but nonetheless, we must discuss it. The most common STD, if you will, is called Hag’s Nose, where painful bumps appear on a specific part of the male anatomy. I will not speak on the female equivalent, but do know there is one.”

Ron, along with the rest of the boys, looked absolutely mortified. “Not to worry, it is not as common now as it was hundreds of years ago. Madam Pomfrey will be testing each of you to ensure you do not carry any disease at the end of today’s lesson. There are healing potions you can take should you come down with the ailment.

“My last bit of information to share with you is to be aware that there are always eyes watching. Whether it be the teachers, prefects, or even the portraits, you are never as stealth as you may think you are.”

“While we do not condone these activities, we cannot prevent you from making your own decisions. But do know that you will be punished accordingly if you ever get caught,” Professor McGonagall reminded them again.

Dumbledore seemed satisfied as he looked to Madam Pomfrey. She waved her wand, casting a silent spell that no doubt was determining the presence of possible STDs. She nodded curtly as she observed the results. “At this point, we ask that you write down any questions that you have, and Madam Pomfrey will answer them for everyone. There is no question too silly. Chances are if you’re thinking it, someone else probably is, too.”

Everyone sat there quietly at first, but then a few people could be seen writing. For once, Hermione did not have any questions. She noticed Ron didn’t write anything down either.

“Ah the first question!” Professor McGonagall said. “How often do students at Hogwarts become pregnant?”

“At least once every five years,” Madam Pomfrey stated simply.

Professor Sprout stated the next question. “If we take the monthly potion, do we still need to use the spell?”

“It is recommended, yes.”

“How often are couples caught?” McGonagall was trying hard not to look disgusted at the question, which got a few sniggers out of the students.

Dumbledore answered this one. “Judging on the house points that are taken in the evenings, several times a week. I should say that Madam Pince strictly prohibits any fooling around in the library, as well. Those who are caught tend to lose more house points than those elsewhere.”

Hermione felt her face flush hot as the quill slipped out of her hand. So much for some of those dreams she’d had over the summer. Not that she was any closer with Ron that would even allow them to become a reality. 

Madam Pomfrey snapped her out of her reverie. “Are there any other questions?” She waited a beat, but no new questions came in. “Thank you. You are dismissed, but please know you can come to me should you have any additional questions.”

“Enjoy the beautiful day outside,” Professor Dumbledore said as he watched the students get up and scamper off faster than you could say ‘expelliarmus.’ Once they had all exited, he looked at the other teachers. “Ah, it never gets old,” Dumbledore said as he chuckled.

“You are incorrigible, you do know that, Albus?” Professor McGonagall said.

“Oh yes, but it does them good to know the implications of their actions.”

“Not that it will stop it,” Professor Sprout commented.

“Ah, but it will help them think twice about their actions, and that’s all we can ask for. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some business to take care of before our second session in an hour.”

[noladyme]

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 2

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood and violence

CHAPTER 1

2

I didn’t hear from Eric for a week after that. I decided it was for the best; and whenever I checked in with Bill, he didn’t mention him either – making me think I was in the clear from the Viking-vampire. I was unsure how to feel about that fact. Bill didn’t have a lot of jobs for me, but he still paid me the agreed amount; and thanked me every time I saw him, as if I was saving his life, whenever I went to a store for him, or put him in contact with someone he couldn’t usually reach during nighttime.

One night, after I’d done a day shift at Merlotte’s, and was fixing myself a microwaved meal for dinner; he knocked on my door. “Come on in, Bill”, I said. He looked surprised. “That’s… very kind of you”, he said. “Remember, you can rescind your invitation at any point”. I nodded, smilingly. “You mind if I eat? It was Terry’s clam chowder down at Merlotte’s today, and I hate that stuff”. “Go right ahead”, Bill said.

I gestured at him to sit on the couch, and took the mac’n’cheese from the microwave; sitting down in the recliner opposite him. “So, what’s up? That painter not work out?”, I asked. Bill looked slightly uncomfortable. “No, the painter is doing a fine job”, he said. “That is not why I am here”. “Then why?”, I asked, mouth full. “Eric has summoned us… you”, he said. I almost choked on my food. “He what?”, I said, and wiped my mouth. “He can’t summon us. Who does he think he is?”.

Bill sat up straight, and took a deep breath – a strange thing for a vampire to do, but I supposed he was practicing his human interactions. “Eric is the sheriff of Area 5”, Bill said. “You guys have sheriffs?”, I asked. He nodded. “As it is, I must come when he summons me”, he said. “You are right in one thing. He cannot summon you…”. “But…?”, I said, raising a brow at him. “Eric wants to see you, not me. He is only making this summon through me, out of courtesy”, Bill said. “He thinks you are mine”. “But I’m no one’s”, I said. Bill smiled warmly at me. “You are a rare creature, Liv”.

I shoved another spoonful of food into my mouth. “Why does he want to see me?”, I said. “He wouldn’t say anything other, than that he had a proposition for you”, Bill replied. I scoffed, and put my plate down on the table; rolling my eyes. “He’s already made me a proposition… A few actually”. Bill chuckled a little at that. “Yes, well; as he does think you’re mine, I don’t believe that is the kind of proposition he has in mind”. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You think he has an actual job for me”, I said.

Bill nodded. “You mentioned that you were in need of money, and Eric… He has money”, he said. “But he is also an ancient and very dangerous vampire, who has a strange infatuation with you”. “If you’re so worried about me taking whatever job this is, why are you even mentioning it?”, I asked. Anger ghosted his face. “I… have to. He’s my sheriff”, he said. “And he said that you should have the choice to say yes or no yourself. He was quite clear in this; wanted me to tell you that specifically. He also said we were to take my car, as he doesn’t think yours is safe…”.

I sat back, and thought for a moment. In his own very strange way, Eric was actually trying to be polite, and respect my choices. But he was also insulting my car. “When does he want to see us?”, I asked. “Tonight, if possible”, Bill said. “He said if possible?”, I said, raising a brow at him. “No”, Bill said. “He said it had to be tonight. I was trying to be…”. “Never mind”, I sighed. “Just, let me go change. I can’t wear my waitressing uniform to Fangtasia. I’m guessing that’s where we’re going”. Bill nodded, and I went into my bedroom; to change clothes.

---

An hour later, we pulled up at the vampire bar. I was wearing my favorite jeans – favorite, because they made my ass look good – and a red top. At the last moment, I’d put on a cardigan as well; to cover up some. There wasn’t any reason to let Eric think I was there for anything other than a job interview.

Bill led me past the line, and straight into the bar; where – just as it had been the last time I was there – the music was loud, and debauchery was rampant. Eric was seated on the platform at the end of the room – wearing a black leather jacket, tank top and dark jeans, that fit his frame perfectly – and looking bored out of his mind. I drew in a short breath, and suddenly, he looked up; his eyes focused on me. They were hard, but not cold. He gestured with his hand for me and Bill to step forward.

When we reached the podium, Bill and Eric nodded their heads at each other. “Eric”, Bill said, an edge to his voice. “Bill… Miss Sunday”, Eric said. “Have a seat”. The only two chairs except for Eric’s, were on either side of him. “Feel like I have an audience with a king, or something”, I muttered. “Don’t let the queen hear that”, Pam said; stepping out of the crowd. I looked at Bill. “There are queens, now?”, I said exasperatedly.

Bill sat down on one of the free chairs, I took the other. “I appreciate you taking the time to take this meeting”, Eric said. I was about to reply, when he turned his head to Bill. “If it is alright with you, I would like to speak to your human about a job I might have for her”. Bill stifled a smile, and nodded. “You… may”. “I am not…”, I began. “Thank you, Bill”, Eric said, and turned his face forwards again, still not looking at me. “Miss Sunday, I’m sure Bill has told you I have a proposition for you”.

I sat without saying anything for a long moment. Eric turned his face less than an inch towards me. “Liv… Did you hear me?”, he said. “Oh, you’re talking to me now?”, I said. “I thought I was just here as a decoration”. Erics lip twitched for a second; while Bill shifted in his seat, seemingly worried about my safety. “You should think before you speak”, Bill said. “He’s right”, Eric said. “Fuck off”, I snarled.

Eric looked forwards again, a smile ghosting his face. “I’m in need of a secretary for a series of meetings”, he said. “Bill tells me you’re doing an excellent job for him, so this should be what you humans call a walk in the park for you”. “So, you want me taking notes and stuff?”, I asked. “And… stuff”, Eric said. His eyes scanned the room. “Actually, we should probably move this conversation to the office”. I followed Eric and Pam through a doorway next to the bar. Bill walked behind me. It was as if they were flanking me, not letting anyone reach me.

Erics office was less dark than I’d imagined. It had a leather loveseat, and a few shelves filled with Fangtasia merchandise. He gestured at me to take a seat in the chair in front of the desk. Pam closed the door, and stood in front of it, blocking anyone from entering – and, I supposed, me from exiting. Bill sat down in the couch, his eyes moving between Eric and me, as if he was worried the tall vampire would suddenly pounce on me.

“Ok, you’ve shown me the tunnels of Vampire-Disneyland”, I said. “Now, what?”. Eric leaned against the desk, crossing one leg in front of the other. He was towering over me as I sat there; making me feel like the tiniest thing in the world. “Now we talk terms”, Eric said. “Terms? I haven’t even agreed yet”, I retorted. “Bill has agreed for you…”. I shook my head, and chuckled. “Bill doesn’t make deals for me. I’m my own woman”. Bill shifted slightly in his seat. “You are his”, Eric said. “Though, I still don’t know how he convinced Sookie to let him take a second human. She seems very… monogamous”. He snarled the word; and I could almost hear Pam’s eyes rolling in her head. Bill cleared his throat. “Eric, you seem to have misunderstood the arrangement I have with Liv”, he said. “She is my assistant, and my friend. Not my human”.

Erics lips parted, and he suddenly stood up straight; frozen in place. “You’re free?”, he asked quietly. I swallowed hard, when Eric reached out a hand, to move the collar of my cardigan, checking to see for fang-marks – finding none. “Leave us”, he said. “I am not going anywhere without Liv”, Bill said. “She is under my protection…”. “She’s perfectly safe with me”, Eric said, removing his hand from my neck. “For fucks sake, Eric”, Pam said. “Jag säger det inte igen!”, Eric growled. I looked tentatively at Bill. ”I’ll be fine”, I said. He clenched his jaw, and gave Eric a hard look. “I will be close by”, he said; and he and Pam left the room quietly.

After the door closed, I stood up, and walked around the room, needing to create some distance between me and Eric. I felt his eyes following me, as I went about; picking up and setting down items. “Stop fidgeting; it’s irritating”, he said. “Stop standing so still; it’s creepy”, I retorted. Eric chuckled slightly, not relaxing his stance. “Is that why your heartrate just went up? Because I’m… creepy?”, he asked. “Or is it because we’re alone together, and you’re hoping to…”. “Let me stop you right there”, I said. “I’m here because Bill told me you had a job offer, and I need the money”.

“Bill…”, Eric muttered. “Why did you tell me you were his?”. I shrugged. “I didn’t tell you anything like that…”, I said. “Then… be mine”, he commanded. “Yield to me!”. I sighed exasperatedly. “Is it so hard to believe I’m just not interested in you?”. “Yes”. His response came swiftly; almost too swiftly – like he was actually a little insecure. Unable to keep up my pretense, because fuck yes, I was interested; I decided to get the conversation back on track.

“So, the job? I just go with you to a meeting?”, I asked. Eric blinked, clearly trying to pull himself out of a thought. “No. I need a human companion with me for a series of meetings”, he said. “What are the meetings about?”, I asked. “It’s a sheriffs conference”, he said. “We will be discussing matters of importance to the vampire society in America”. “Well, what do you need me for?”, I said; pulling a pack of cigarettes from my purse. “Mind if I smoke?”. “Yes”, Eric said. “It’s a filthy habit, and it makes the blood taste bitter”. Had he not added that last part, I would have put my cigarettes away. “Good thing you’re not gonna be drinking mine then”, I said, and lit one; taking a deep drag. Eric waved the smoke away from his face. I knew he didn’t have to breathe if he didn’t want to, so I simply rolled my eyes.

“It’s customary to bring a human companion to the conference; for taking notes, handling daytime tasks, and the occasional snack…”, Eric said. “That last part is off the table”, I said, blowing out another lungful of smoke. “That’s… negotiable, of course”, Eric said. “It’s really not”, I smiled sarcastically. “Why don’t you just get Ginger to come with you?”. “Because Ginger can hardly write her own name… And she can be glamoured”, he replied. “Sookie, then?”, I said. “She told me she can’t be glamoured either”.

I put out my cigarette in an open bottle, and turned to face Eric. He’d moved up behind me, and was now inches away from me. He moved a lock of hair out of my face. “Sookie is not… you”, he said. My breath hitched, and I couldn’t help myself. I put my hand on his chest, and felt my knees about to buckle. “You have warm hands”, Eric said, and placed his own hand on top of mine. It was large, and completely covered my own.

I shook my head, and pushed him away. “W-why do you even need someone like that?”, I croaked. “Information. We switch secretaries for some meetings, to make sure information is fairly distributed among all of us… But sometimes, one of us will glamour one of the humans; to avoid something getting shared with their masters”. “So much for fairly disturbed information. You guys seem kind of shady; you know that, right?” Eric smiled slyly.

After thinking for another moment, I realized something, and my jaw dropped. “Woah… You’re telling me I’ll be alone in a room with strange vampires? That might want to feed on me?”. “They won’t, unless I am there to give my permission… You’ll be under my protection”, Eric said. “If they’d try to glamour me to make me forget a conversation, how do I know they won’t feed on me, and try to glamour me to forget that?”, I asked. He put a hand on my shoulder, and hunched slightly to look deep into my eyes. “I will not let that happen”, he said. “You can trust me”.

I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath – immediately regretting it, as I drew in a delicious nose-full of Eric. “How much?”, I asked. He stepped back. “10.000 for four nights”, he said. 10-fucking-thousand dollars!, I thought to myself. That would put a nice dent in my debt – and maybe I could even use some of it on down-payment of a newer car. “That sounds… fair”, I rasped. “When?”. “We leave in three days”, Eric said, moving back towards his desk; making me able to breathe properly again. “Three days? Eric, I have a job already – two, in fact. I can’t just up and leave”, I said. “Make it work, or miss out on the money”, he said. “It’s up to you”. “I’ll have to talk to Bill…”, I began. “I’ll handle Bill. You just take care of your shifter-boss”, Eric said. “My what?”. Eric smiled slightly. “You didn’t know…”, he said. “Sam Merlotte. Ask him what that is”.

I thought fast, knowing I had to make a decision. “Ok… Ok, I’ll do it”. “Good”, Eric said, grabbing something from a drawer. “This card is set up for you to use; to buy whatever you need in preparation. You’ll need suitable luggage, and new clothes. That ABBA t-shirt won’t cut it where we’re going”. He came over to me again, handing me a credit card and a new smart-phone. “I’ll e-mail you whatever else info you’ll need. Keep it charged and with you at all times, in case I need to get in touch with you”. “Sir, yes, sir”, I grunted. A grin spread across Erics face. “I like the sound of that”, he said; and stood very close to me, as I put the items in my purse.

I cleared my throat. “Anything else?”, I asked. “One thing…”, Eric said. “To be able to keep you safe, I need to make a connection to you. A blood-connection”. “What does that mean?”, I asked hesitantly. “When a human has a vampire’s blood, the vampire is able to sense the human’s emotions”, he explained. “You want me to… drink from you”, I gulped. “Is that a problem?”, Eric asked, looking amused. “I don’t want you messing around in my head!”, I said. “You’re worried about me knowing how you feel; but you’re fine with drinking my blood?”, he chuckled. “I’m not exactly happy about that either…”, I said. “No? People pay good money for V on the streets…”. Eric cocked a brow at me, almost challengingly. “I don’t”, I assured him. “I know the stories about the drainers; taking advantage of weaker vampires. It’s wrong”. “If it makes you happier, I’ll be glad to take some of your blood as well; even if you did just smoke… Fair trade”, Eric said; his fangs popping out. I backed against the door, almost stumbling. “Nope… No, that’s ok”, I said. Eric smirked at me. “Taking my blood, is part of the deal; and for you, this is a win-win situation. You get 10.000 dollars, a new wardrobe; and you get to enjoy the advantages of my 1000-year-old, very powerful blood”. I took a deep breath. “Ok… I’ll do it”.

Eric walked slowly towards me, as if trying to avoid scaring me. When he was less than a foot from me, he bit into his wrist, and held the bleeding wound to my mouth. I looked at the blood trickling from there. “Before the wound closes”, Eric said; reaching for me to step forward. I took a hold of his arm, and looked up into his eyes, as I put my lips to the two small holes.

You would think drinking Eric’s blood would be metallic – bitter, even – but it wasn’t. It was sweet, but not sickly so; and if I was to describe it, the closest word I could think of was full. The last time I’d had vampire blood, the situation had been quite different; and I hadn’t been very focused on the taste. I closed my eyes, and suckled; feeling not cold, but warmth spreading through my body. My heart beat fiercely, and my core throbbed. With my free hand, I held on to Erics shirt; letting out a choked moan against his wrist. I heard him take a ragged breath, and he put his hand on my cheek. “That’s enough, sunshine”, he said. I pulled back, and looked up at him. He wiped a stray droplet from my chin. “How do you feel?”. His voice was almost hopeful. “I… don’t know”, I said. “Ok, I guess”. Eric smiled as if I was the most endearing creature he’d ever seen. He stroked my temple, and for a second, I was convinced he was about to kiss me – and I wasn’t sure I wanted to stop him.

There was a pounding on the door. “Eric! Your meeting is over. It’s already taken too long”, Bill barked from the other side. “My vampire-daddy is here”, I said, stifling a smile. “Too bad”, Eric said. “I was hoping I’d be your vampire-daddy”. I laughed nervously.

I moved away from the door, and let Eric open it. In some strange way, I felt like I needed to correct my clothes, and was tugging at my skirt, as Bill and Pam entered the office again. “Bill… Liv will be going with me to Dallas in three days”, Eric said. “She’ll be gone for four nights. If you need anything taken care of in the meanwhile, feel free to use my day-person. He’s at your disposal”. Bill looked at me with wide eyes. “For the conference?”, he said. “Are you sure you want this, Liv? It might get dangerous”. “Do people usually die at these things?”, I asked. “We haven’t had a human death at a conference since the 70’s”, Eric said. “And that was only because the woman was out of her mind on acid; and practically begged to be eaten”, Pam added. “I saw neon colors for a week after that night”. Eric stifled a smile.

“We will see you in Dallas”, Eric said. “We’ll be travelling during the day, so you’ll be responsible for our transportation. I’m guessing that won’t be a problem”. “No, I’ll make sure you get there safe”, I said. “Us, and our luggage”, Pam said. “Do not let anyone mess with my clothes”. “Your Gucci is safe with me”, I said. “See you in Dallas”.

As Bill and I turned to leave, Eric grabbed my hand. I looked down, and saw that his teeth marks were already healed. “I’m looking forward to it…”, he said. “And do me a favor. No smoking for the duration of the job”. He winked at me “That’s doable…”, I said. “Very doable…”, Eric smirked. I tugged my hand away from his, and left the room.

---

Sam wasn’t happy that I was leaving town, when I told him at the end of my shift the next day. “You told me, that you wouldn’t just up and leave on purpose”, he said. “This is… You’re worrying me, cher’”. “It’s just some well needed vacation”, I said. I hadn’t told him where I was going; or why. “Kind of last minute”, Sam muttered. I sighed deeply, and finished folding the last napkin around the silverware in front of me. “Look, Sam… Ever since I got here, I’ve taken every shift and double shift you’ve asked me to”, I said. “I never asked for a day off, come in late, or left early… I’m asking you for a week; and I already got Sookie and Arlene to cover for me… Please”.

Sam clenched his jaw. “I can’t pay you for the days you’re not here, Liv’”, he said. “Not expecting you to”, I said. “Just… I’d like to know I have a job when I come back”. Sam tilted his head, and smiled. “Of course you do!”, he said. “Just… Call us, and let us know you’re alright, ok?”. “I’ll be perfectly fine”, I smiled. “After what you said, about that acquaintance of yours…”, Sam muttered. “Don’t worry about me… In fact, after I go home today, and for a week forward… Just forget I exist”, I said with a smile. “Now, that’s impossible”, Sam laughed. “Will you be back before next Thursday at least?”. “Why?”, I asked. He cleared his throat. “No reason…”.

I finished up, and drove home; already dreaming of my future second hand car, and the clothes I’d already bought for the trip. Eric had said I needed to be dressed suitably, and had even mailed me to let me know that I was free to buy lingerie on his card. I decided against that last part. I did not need him to know what I spent on underwear, or what I bought.

Eric was waiting on my porch, as I got out of my car. I grabbed the mail from the box, by the sidewalk. “I thought you told me we’d see each other in Dallas”, I said, as I made my way up the steps. “Why didn’t you just call?”. Eric looked coldly at me. “Why can’t I feel you?”, he demanded. I shook my head in confusion. “You… what?”, I said. “I can’t sense your emotions”, he growled, grabbing my shoulders, and placing himself in front of me. “What are you feeling?”. “Annoyance”, I said, pushing his arms off me. I unlocked my door, and stepped inside, creating a barrier between us. “You had my blood… Have you had any dreams about me?”, Eric asked. “No…”, I said. “Any visions or reactions at all?”. I rolled my eyes. “What is this? No, Dr. Northman. The prescribed drug did not have any weird side effects”.

I began looking through my mail. Behind an electrical bill, I found another envelope without sender. I swallowed hard. “If there’s nothing else…”, I said quietly. “What’s wrong?”, Eric said. “I thought you couldn’t feel my emotions”. My voice was shaking. “Your face”, he said. “Why are you afraid?”. I didn’t know what to say. Eric met my eyes, and held my gaze. “Tell me. I swore I’d keep you safe”. “We’re not in Dallas, yet”, I said. “Your responsibilities don’t start until then”. “My responsibilities to you started the moment I asked you to be mine”. “But I’m not yours”. Eric clenched his jaw, and took a step back. “Still… I have need for you in Dallas”, he said. “Anything that makes you this terrified, could mean you’re in danger. And I need you safe… Is this about that… guy in San Diego?”. It was clear Eric wasn’t used to using words like guy about someone.

I opened the envelope, and pulled out another picture of myself. On this one, I had my head on a man’s shoulder – Thomas’ shoulder. Thomas had been holding out the camera, to take the picture of the both of us, and the blissful expression on my face might come off as happy; but I knew better. I had been out of my mind on some kind of drug. Eric looked at the picture as I held it. “Not mine. Not Bills… His?”, he said. I scrunched up the picture, and threw it at the vampires head. “Stop asking who’s I am!”, I growled. “I’m my own. No one else’s!”. “Why?”, he asked. “I told you why…”. I nodded towards the crumbled-up paper on the porch. “That’s why. Because I don’t want someone to think they have the right to follow me around, and control me. Be they human, or vampire or… whatever!”.

Eric seemed unsure what to say; stumped, for the first time since I’d met him. I reminded myself I hadn’t known him very long – that I shouldn’t even be as open with him as I already was. “I’m… sorry”, I said. “Don’t be”, Eric said. “You’re having a perfectly human reaction. Which is good, as we need to convince everyone of that, when we go to the conference”. “Convince everyone?”, I said. “I am human”. “You’re not having normal reactions to my blood. You can’t be glamoured”, Eric said. “You are… something else”.

He seemed about to leave, apparently accepting that he wouldn’t be getting the answers he wanted tonight. I on the other hand, was not. I couldn’t spend four days with the man, if he was constantly questioning my humanity. “Have some of my blood”, I said; making Eric stop in his tracks. He looked hard into my eyes, and was suddenly standing inches from me, the only thing keeping us apart being the invisible barrier keeping Eric out of my home. “Why?”, he asked, almost inaudibly. “You’d be able to taste it… That I’m human”, I said. “Wouldn’t you?”. He nodded. “Please come in”.

Eric drew in a short breath, and took a step forward; keeping his eyes on mine. As he walked forwards, I stepped backwards, almost stumbling. Eric caught me by the waist, and my breath hitched. “How much would you need to… drink?”, I croaked. “Not much”, he answered softly. “But the more, the better”. “O-ok”, I said. “So, do I give you my wrist, or…?”. “I prefer the femoral arteries…”, Eric smiled. I frowned at him. “But your wrist, or your neck will be fine. Your choice”.

“Which will hurt less?”, I asked. Eric smiled slightly. “You’ve never been bitten before”, he said. “Not… bitten, no”, I said. He narrowed his eyes at me. “But someone has tasted you? How?”. I swallowed hard, and shook my head. “Long story”, I muttered. “Just tell me which will be less painful”. Erics eyes diverted to the exposed skin at the crook of my neck. “I know how to keep my bite as painless as possible”, he said. “Some of the humans I drink from even enjoy it. They tend to prefer the neck”. “Alright”, I said in a whisper. “Neck, then”.

I took a deep breath, and tilted my head slightly. Erics gaze softened; and to my surprise, he took my hand, leading me to sit down on my couch – taking a seat next to me himself. “Put your legs over mine”, he said; pulling at my knees, so my legs were splayed over his. He put an arm behind my back, and pulled me closer. “This way it’s more comfortable. Unless you prefer lying down…”. “This is fine”, I squeaked. “Turn towards me. Relax”, Eric said. I did as I was told, and blew out a deep breath. He ran his fingertips down my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I let my head rest against the vampire’s shoulder, and closed my eyes. I felt Erics cool breath against my neck, and he held a hand on the back of my head; tangling his fingers into my hair. “Gör det. Sluta vara svag…”. Eric was muttering to himself. ”What’s wrong?”, I whispered. ”Nothing”, he replied shortly, and pulled me impossibly closer. “Don’t move”. “Ok…”.

Eric pulled at the collar of my Merlotte’s t-shirt, and moved his lips closer to my neck. After a long moment, he let out a guttural groan, and I found myself alone on the couch; while Eric was standing at the other end of the room. “Did I do something wrong?”, I asked; suddenly feeling tears betray me – and I didn’t even know why. “Please don’t do that”, Eric said, looking almost afraid of the situation. I quickly wiped my eyes. “I’m sorry”. “And don’t apologize…”, he said. “I will see you in Dallas”. He was gone.

I locked all windows and doors, before going to bed – both happy, that soon I’d be far away from where Thomas could find me; and troubled by what had occurred between me and Eric.

---

My flight to Dallas was late in the afternoon. Eric and Pam’s travel coffins were already unloading when I got off the plane; and the sky was orange, letting me know sundown wasn’t far off. I made sure all luggage was accounted for; not wanting to risk the wrath of Eric’s underling. All I wanted to do was have a smoke to calm my nerves, but I’d promised not to for the duration of the job.

Once the final bag was in the trunk of the large sedan taking us to the vampire hotel, it was fully dark outside the hangar, and the lids of both coffins sprang open. Eric was already on his phone as he rose. “Yes, Isabel; I will see you there… That is not up for discussion… Is he coming…? Good”. He hung up his phone as he passed me; not looking at me. “Everything is accounted for”, I said quietly. “Of course it is”, he said, and entered the limo. Pam gave me a look out the corner of her eyes, and smirked – not meanly so, more as if she was amused.

I got in with the two vampires, and sat on the sideways seat. I’d never been in a limo before, and found it difficult to make myself comfortable, feeling very out of my element. Eric sat back in his seat, spreading his arms on the top of the backrest. Pam was filing her nails next to him. They looked like the perfect power-couple, had it not been for the fact that they were not lovers; more like brother and sister – or father and daughter. Theirs was an undefinable relationship; but it was clear who was the master, and who was the underling – though Eric seemed to have a great deal of respect, and maybe even love for Pam. I didn’t feel right asking, but I guessed he was her maker.

“Here’s the deal”, Eric said, finally looking at me. His tone was matter-of-factly, and hard. “Unless Pam or I tell you or gesture you to do otherwise, you stay behind us at all times. Most of the vampires at the conference are old, and have conservative views on how humans should behave in our presence. Remember that you are our inferior”. I didn’t respond. “Do you understand?”. “I can talk now?”, I sneered. Pam stifled a smile; whereas Eric almost snarled. “If you value your life, you’ll keep that smart mouth shut!”, he said. “Speak when you are spoken to, and never unless I – or Pam – tell you that it is alright”. “Ok”, I replied.

“The hotel will be full, so we booked rooms months ago”, Pam said, putting her file into her purse. “Eric and I will be in a suite. Your room is down the hall”. I hadn’t even thought about where I would be staying. “You’re on call from sunset until dawn”, Eric said. “Days are yours to do with as you want, unless we have errands for you… Speaking of which. Pam…”. Pam handed me a note. “What’s this?”, I asked. “The address off a photographer I’ve been in contact with”, Eric said. “He’s prepared a piece for me, that needs to be picked up tomorrow, before sunset”. “I’ll handle it”, I said. “Use the hotel car-service. I don’t want you calling a taxi, or taking a… bus”. He sounded like the word was putrid in and of itself. “It would be embarrassing if anyone found out”. “Appearance is everything”, Pam said. “Pam is right. You’re representing me in everything you do, these upcoming days”, Eric said. “Don’t let me down”. Apparently, Eric was done flirting, and in full business mode; and I decided I was better off for it.

At the hotel, a pair of bellboys brought in our luggage for us. Pam checked us in, while Eric went through messages on his phone. I stayed quiet, and focused on observing the people around me. I had never seen so many vampires in one room at once; not even in Fangtasia. Other humans were standing as I was, behind their vampire bosses; and a few of them had fang marks on their exposed skin. Everyone was looking very solemn, though there was an undertone of excitement.

I’d tried to dress for the occasion; in a dark blue button up dress, a cardigan, and flats. I played nervously with the button of my purse. “Stop fidgeting!”, Eric said, and looked down at my chest. “And don’t wear that cardigan again… You don’t look enough like dinner”. I took a deep breath. “Permission to speak?”, I muttered. “Granted”, he replied; a slight smile on his lips, as he put his phone back into his pocket. “You’re a dick, and I’ll wear whatever clothes I want to”, I said. His smile broadened. “I bought those clothes”, he said. “And when I checked the receipts, I didn’t see any lingerie on them… Going commando, sunshine?”. I gulped, having clearly lost this battle. Eric was back at it.

Pam returned with three keycards. “What did I miss?”, she asked. “Miss Sunday isn’t wearing any underwear”, Eric replied, and walked towards the elevators. Pam inclined her head, to look at my bottom. “I am too!”, I croaked, and followed the two of them into the small cabin.

My hotel room was larger than my living room at home, and there was a large tub in the bathroom; which I couldn’t wait to try out. Eric and Pam had gone to their suite to do whatever it was vampires did when they were alone; so I yelped in surprise when I found the Viking reclining on the large bed, as I reentered the room from having daydreamed about bubble-baths. “Don’t you need to be invited in?”, I asked. “This room is in my name, so no”, he said. “The conference doesn’t start officially until tomorrow night, but our first meeting is in 30 minutes”. “Alright, I’ll get my things”, I said. “No”, Eric said, sitting up. He patted the spot next to him on the bed. “Sit with me”. “I thought this was a business trip”, I said, trying – and failing – for confident. “Stop being difficult”, Eric said. “We need to have a conversation”.

I walked over and sat on the edge of the bed; keeping my feet on the floor. Eric turned his body, to sit next to me. “How is your acting?”, he asked. “I did Wicked in high school”, I shrugged. A smile ghosted Erics face. “Vampires will try to glamour you, maybe even tonight”, he said. “You need to be able to convince them that they’ve succeeded”. “I’ll handle it”, I said.

Eric put a large hand on my cheek, and turned my face towards his. “There is too much life in your eyes”, he said. “A glamoured human does not look like you. Look into my eyes”. I focused on his light-blue orbs, and felt a rush of blood straight to my core. “That’s even worse”, Eric said. I took a deep breath, and thought about anything but Eric; which was hard, as his hand was still on my cheek, and he was looking at me intently. I thought about the bath I was going to take later on; which turned in to thinking about Eric in the bathtub – bubbles strategically placed to cover his naked body. Then, I thought about my favorite flavors of ice-cream; which turned in to Eric feeding me the ice-cream – once again, naked.

“Think about nothing”, Eric said. “That’s impossible”, I sneered. “Nothingness”, he reiterated. “Think about the coldest darkest thing you can imagine, but don’t let it scare you. A glamoured human is not afraid, unless the vampire wants them to be”. I let my mind disappear into a cold, dark cave; saw only mist. “Good”, Eric whispered. He stroked my temple, and I parted my lips; needing to remind myself to breathe. Leaning in close, Eric was soon brushing his nose against mine. “Eric…”, I said. “Say yes. Be mine”, he breathed. I sighed, and pulled back. “No…”. Eric put his forehead to mine, and closed his eyes, as if in pain. “Liv…”. His voice was almost pleading. “I can’t… Eric, I can’t”.

Eric stood up abruptly. I almost fell forwards from the lack of contact. “We will have to pretend in front of everyone else”, he said; his tone brusque. “As I cannot feel you, we will have to use vampire law to keep you alive”. “I can… pretend”, I said. “As long as you know…”. “You’ve made yourself clear, sunshine”, he said. “Get your things, we have a meeting to attend. And put on some underwear”. “I’m wearing underwear!”.

---

We went to a suite down the hall. Pam was flipping through a magazine in a recliner, and gave Eric a look when we entered. “Jag kunde ha hämtat henne”, she muttered. “You seemed busy”, Eric replied to whatever it was she’d said. A half-naked red-haired woman walked out from one of the doors; looking pale and blissful. “She’s good for another sip”, Pam said. The woman stopped in front of Eric and smiled seductively at him. He waved her away with a flick of his fingers. “I’m good”, he said; and the woman left the room with a disappointed look on her face – closing the door behind her. Pam scanned my body. “She seems whole”, she said. “Unless…”. Her eyes travelled down to the apex of my thighs; still covered by the dress. “Behave”, Eric said. “We have company coming”.

He walked over to Pam, took the magazine, and quickly discarded it in a cabinet over the bar. Pam got up to stand, and brushed non-existing lint off her pink pantsuit. Eric seemed tense. His jaw was clenched, and his posture was straighter than usual. “Clean this place up!”, he grunted, and fluffed a throw-pillow from the chair Pam had been seated in. “Who’s coming?”, I asked. “Someone you will show every reverence!”, Eric said. “Yes, sir”, I muttered, annoyance seeping through in my words. His lips twitched slightly, and he went to stand in front of me. “You’re about to meet a vampire more powerful than you can imagine”, he said. “He is older than me; much older – and he is the host of this convention. The sheriff of Area 9”. “Alright… So, what do I do?”, I asked. “You keep quiet. For your own sake”, he responded; and looked me over. He pulled my cardigan down my shoulders, and off me, before I could protest. “There. Dinner”.

There was a knock on the door, and Eric quickly led me to stand by the window at the far wall from the entrance. Pam went to open for the guests, and a tall vampire, wearing a cowboy hat came into the room. I stifled a smile; finding him ridiculous to look at. This is the ancient vampire I’m supposed to show reverence?, I thought to myself.

The vampire spoke with a Texas-twang, sounding unbelievably bored. “All hail Godric. Sheriff of Area 9, leader of…”. “That’s enough Stan. Everyone knows who I am”, a soft, young-sounding voice said from behind him. Cowboy-Stan stepped aside, revealing a young-looking vampire; with dark hair and intense, ageless eyes. I knew him; and a flashback of both pain, fear and relief filled my whole being. A darkhaired female vampire came in behind him. She was luxuriously dressed, sort of the Latina version of Pam; though less pink.

Eric went down on one knee in front of the vampire with the intense gaze; almost crumbling in his presence. “Godric…”, he breathed almost inaudibly. “Min son”, Godric replied with a slight smile. Eric got back up to stand; and though he towered at least a foot over the other sheriff, he seemed much smaller in stature due to his veneration of him. Godric walked further into the room, and looked towards Pam. “Pamela…”, he said. “Grand-sire…”, she replied, and nodded her head. It was clear to me now, that Godric was Erics maker.

As Godric came into the middle of the room – Eric staying close behind him – he looked around, and locked eyes with me. I felt my cheeks redden, and looked down at the floor. “This meeting was supposed to be unofficial”, Stan snarled. “Why is there a human here?”. “Maybe she’s dinner”, the darkhaired female said. “Isabel!”, Godric said. “If you are hungry, I am sure sheriff Northman can offer you a bottle of TruBlood”. “She smells good…”, Stan muttered, and I felt a pang of fear go through my body. “Miss Sunday is mine”, Eric said. Godrics eyes travelled between me and Eric, and he raised a brow slightly.

The vampires all sat down, and I stayed in my place by the window; not knowing what I was supposed to do other than stand still, and try not to get eaten. A conversation commenced between all four, in what seemed to be at least 3 different languages. The only one I understood was Stan, who didn’t say much – save, “Fuck that”, and “We need to act now!” – and he kept looking at me, like he hadn’t fed in weeks. It was terrifying; and for all the safety Eric had promised me, I was feeling none at the moment. Then there was Godric; a vampire I had many questions for. Like for instance, why I had a crazy stalker back on my trail, when he was supposed to have forgotten all about me.

After about 15 minutes of trying to keep from shaking, Godric looked up at me. “Eric, ask your human to sit with us. She looks tired”. “I’m fine”, I said quietly. Eric looked out the corner of his eyes at me. “Sit down, Liv”, he said. The only seat left was on the couch, between Eric and Godric; so, I sat down there – finally feeling a sense of security that I wouldn’t be eaten just yet.

“Let us continue in English”, Godric said. “Godric, we should…”, Isabel began. “I will glamour Miss Sunday if needed”, Eric said. A smile ghosted Godrics face. “No, I will”, Stan said. Eric tensed up, and bared his fangs. “Can we finish our meeting in a civil manner?”, Godric said, an edge to his voice. “Eric…”. The Viking pulled his fangs back, and relaxed his body slightly.

“How long have you been with Eric, miss Sunday?”, Godric asked. “We have known each other for…”, Eric began. “I was asking Liv”, Godric said. He pronounced my name as Eric had, the first time we met. Leev. I couldn’t help but smile slightly, but returned to a more solemn expression, when Pam raised a brow at me. “Not long”, I said quietly. “And he protects you well?”, Godric said. “Hasn’t had a reason too… yet”, I said. “Give it time… You strike me as someone with a low sense of self-preservation”, he replied. It was Eric’s turn to smile. “Well, I do have a past with dangerous men”, I said. For the first time since he entered the room, Godric met my eyes again. He looked confused. “And you’ve been hurt since?”, he asked. “Not…”, I began. “Godric, with all due respect; we do have more important things to discuss, than this…”, Stan interrupted me. “I think enough has been said on the topic for one night”, Godric said. “And I want to have a conversation with this human”.

Godric reached for my hand, and turned it; apparently checking for fang-marks. His grasp was gentle, and his hand looked very different around my wrist, than it had around the neck of Thomas, the year before. My breath hitched lightly, and Godric immediately let go of me. “You’ve fed from Eric?”, he asked. “I… Yes”, I said. “Stan, Isabel; leave us”. The two vampires left the room quicker than I could turn my head.

“Godric, jag…”, Eric began. “Blodet är heligt”, Godric said. “Jag ville skydda henne!”. Eric seemed to shrink in his seat. “Du vet du inta kan ljuga för mig”. “Det ville jag aldrig gjöra…”. “Then maybe you are lying to yourself”. Godrics voice was even, but hard. “You have not fed from her”. “Not yet”, Eric said; making me swallow hard. Godric inclined his head towards me. “Liv, you have nothing to fear from the Dallas vampires. But you will have to keep up your ruse of being Erics… And you will have to do a better job of pretending”.

Godric stood up, and the rest of us followed. “I will see you at the opening ceremony tomorrow”, he said. “I’ve had a host-gift prepared, that I am sure will be… suitable to your tastes”, Eric said. “Two sticks and a bowl of mud?”, Godric asked, an overbearing smile on his face. “Like the good old days”, Eric said. Something unspoken, that seemed to amuse the both of them, passed between the vampires; and Godric left the room.

Pam went to get her magazine out of the cabinet, seemingly ready to get back to browsing through the latest fashions from Paris. “I think I need a drink”, I muttered. “Go change. We’re invited to a private party at the hotel bar”, Eric said. That date I had with the bathtub in my room, seemed further and further away. “I am not going to that thing”, Pam said. “I know you’re not. I remember what happened last time”, Eric retorted. “That wasn’t my fault”, Pam said. “And his fangs grew back eventually”.

Eric rolled his eyes, before looking at me. “Go!”, he said. “What am I supposed to wear?”, I asked. “I’ve never been to a private vampire-party”. “You look like dinner now”, Pam said snarkily. “Think dessert”.

[neeterloveschenford]

Thoughts on RNM 3x10

Well here we are a day late and a dollar short (they’re killing me having to go in early on Wednesdays). But my lord were we blessed this week! I mean blessed and highly favored!! I can’t believe we are basically watching fanfic come to life. It’s amazing how much goodness we are getting. This is our reward for surviving last season. But I digress. Let’s talk about the best episode of this season! Let’s dive in.

Why you gotta step on Hufflepuff, Heath? Don’t you have any idea how amazing Hufflepuff is? SImmer down son.

I agree with Liz. I dislike the Longhorn tattoo too. (I am from Oklahoma afterall.) But I will not be upset seeing Max naked. He may annoy me most days, but he is a pretty pretty man. And I like how sweet he is with Liz here lately. Apparently this brush with death is making him appreciate the magnificent woman in his life. Growth. It’s a good thing. He’ll probably never completely win me over, but the more naked he is the better. (I’m a simple woman.)

Michael feeding his man! I loved this scene. I love how he just wants to take care of Alex. And I love how Alex wanted more kisses, but Michael had to show off his intelligence. Can’t have the bae thinking we’re not brilliant can we. Alex looked so put out! It was great.

So Anaste and Isobel are cute. Not gonna lie. But it’s too late for me to become invested in them this season. I think she’s just this year’s Forrest to be honest. And there is no way that they are not setting up Kybel. Just the utter joy they have in spending time together. I love them.The way Kyle looked at Isobel when she talked about helping people reminds me of the way that Alex and Max look at Michael and Liz. So I cannot see how they cannot be cosmic. And the way they support each other is fabulous. I think they will have the sweetest love story because it’s not going to be falling super hard super fast. I think Kyle is already starting to realize that he has feelings for Iz. And I think Iz will have a moment like Kyle did last season when Iz propositioned him. She’s going to pursue this relationship with Anaste, then realize she has feelings for Kyle. I can’t wait.

Dallas inadvertently teaching Isobel not to violate people’s minds makes him ok in my book. I like him. I still think Heath’s pretty boring, but we can keep Dallas. I mean, Malex’ll need someone to marry them, why not an alien preacher? And I love the fact that we are seeing him interact with Michael first. Poor Michael is probably the worst choice to stall for time. I just love seeing him try to come up with reasons why he shouldn’t leave.

Sassy Max is funny. Of course he would call it a lightsaber. Makes me wonder if he is an actual Star Wars fan, or if he’s just calling it that because that’s what Michael called the sword.

I’m thinking that we’ve had another instance of things that happen off screen. Kyle was obviously not happy to see Heath. Someone has to have told him that they think Heath was the one who attacked him. Heath had the alien mask on when we saw him, so he wouldn’t have seen his face, and the only other time we’ve seen them iAnd nteract was at Liz’s when Kyle was rubbing the vapor rub on Liz’s chest. Not the type of interaction that would make Kyle freak and lunge for his phone.

I love you Jones, but you need to keep your hands off my Kyle. He’s been through enough! Let my son go!! Also, can’t Liz find a better place to keep her bag of notes? And I’m about done with the sheriff lady. How dare! Arresting sweet Kyle. But look at him trying to protect Isobel! They’re not setting up Kybel at all! Nope.

Seriously Isobel, floating a giant smiley face is not the best way to calm someone down. She’s trying though. I love her no matter what. And Michael baby when will you listen to Alex. He’s the only one who knows how to keep his cool under pressure. Poor Dallas running away.

I love how this confrontation between Malex went compared to the last one they had in Michael’s bunker. They could so easily go down the same path they’ve always taken when they disagree. But they are committed to working things out. They are going to be such a strong couple. I am so excited to see them grow! And Michael listened!!! I’m just so proud of them. They have made so much progress!!

Another Kybel moment! They are going to make me scream if they don’t follow through with this! And you have ice powers was hilarious!!

This was a nice little Echo moment. They are not my favorite. But it was nice to see the hope blossom in Max. I don’t think he’s thought that they would find their way back to each other. So it was nice to see Liz admit that she still loves him. He has something to live for again. Good for you Max.

I still think Heath’s pretty boring. I liked the conversation with Michael and Dallas. They really bonded over their crappy childhoods. I want to see them have a great friendship. I like that they are so similar but have chosen such different paths.

Dear Liz, please learn Jones’ mannerisms. It’s really obvious to anyone that pays attention. That way you won’t have to kiss a megalomaniacal dictator next time.

I like how Kyle says he doesn’t like Max but he still wants to save him. I also really like Theo. I wouldn’t be opposed to a flashback with him in it. I’d really like to learn more about the Triad. Where does that leave Max? Did they look for Dallas back in 1947? So many questions. So many that won’t be answered. So if this equation can make Jones’ reign everlasting, does this mean that Max’s body is immortal?

Never thought I’d feel bad for that sheriff. Maybe she’s going to be like OG Valenti and end up being an ally. Or Isobel will mind scape her. I guess we’ll find out.

Kyle looks so forlorn. And Dallas picked the wrong person to tell that he might have to kill Max. I don't’ care how much smack Kyle talks, he will never let someone kill any of the pod squad. He’s just that good. I also think that the equation in the alien symbols will be something that Alex will figure out. In the OG series, Alex figured out how to translate their language. So I definitely think one of the world’s best hackers could figure it out.

And now we’re getting to the good stuff. This scene was everything I have ever wanted for these two. It was soft, sweet, loving, sexy, and hopeful. They are both so all in with this relationship. I always knew that the moment they were both on the same page, then that would be it. There is no turning back for either one of them. And the fact that they brought back cosmic and the song was chef's kiss! Alex’s face when Michael told him he was home was so emotional. They just love each other so very very much. I have cried every single time I have watched that scene. People at work the next day wanted to know why I was smiling so much. I just can’t believe that we are living in the age of Malex. And the chest kiss. But seriously, can we not let these boys have sex in a real bed? Trust me, things start to hurt after you hit 30. Their backs are not going to like them much longer if they keep this up!

So nitpicky time. There were only two small things that annoyed me in this episode. First was Dallas saying that the Lockhart machine had haunted him for 25 years. If he was 7 when he came out of the pod like the pod squad were, then they would all be 32 now. That adds on at least a year from where we are supposed to be in the timeline. Also, did Michael live with two religious nutcase families? Cause he said he was 9 when he was burned at his exorcism. But he showed Max fresh burns when they were around 13 in the season 1 flashback. I know time means nothing on this show, but if I can remember these things, surely someone on the show should be able to.

Anyhoo, that’s all I’ve got this week. I am now going to go have a small breakdown again about Malex. Hope everyone has a wonderful week! Till next time my lovelies!

[belovasangel]

Come Back to Me

Summary: Shawn missing big events leaves to beautiful memories and Christmas miracles

Pairing: Shawn x fem!Nurse!Reader

Warnings: swearing, light angst, fluff, flashback heavy, holiday feelings 

A/N: Yup. Surprise. Also flashbacks are in italics, per usual. Also I am not Canadian so I don’t know if y’all celebrate Remembrance Day. For the sake of this story, pretend that it’s the equivalent to Thanksgiving.

Shawn took your hand as you barreled down the sidewalk, laughs flying past you in the wind. Tonight had been a perfect date, something great to wrap the summer up, full of time alone with your favorite guy (and your favorite wine). He had been planning this for weeks now, and you can even remember him talking about this back in June when his tour had been announced. The pandemic put a damper on your two’s plans since March, but once the numbers started decreasing did he get calls from managers, and then... there was another world tour. You weren’t mad, music was his passion. Even though you two would be wrapped in each other’s arms after a lovely night, you could tell behind his eyes he longed to play the guitar for different cities. 

That’s why tonight was so important, because he started packing and planning, then he would leave on Wednesday for Prague. And of course, your job needed you in Toronto. While Canada hasn’t experienced any significantly alarming numbers, there were still cases rolling in. You insisted that Shawn goes on tour, so much that you had to pay for his first ticket yourself (he payed you back, though. He insisted). 

Shawn skidded to a stop, turning around and putting his hands on your shoulders. “Now promise me you’re gonna close your eyes, just for a few seconds.”

You huffed and shrugged your shoulders, “Shawn I’m out of breathe, you made me run in heels for about half a mile... Give me 5 minutes instead.” With a quick chuckle, he pecked your lips and turned you around. You heard his shuffling from those black boots he wears to rubble, then decided to look around. He somehow managed to find a quaint park, with a nice bubbling fountain and family’s scattered around. Dogs were running a lit in the distance, and the bustle of the city wasn’t nearly as booming as it usually is. This was nice.

“Okay, turn around.”

With a giggle, you turned around to see Shawn on one knee. Behind him was a tree strung with lights that were glowing, and underneath the tree was champagne and a radio playing your two’s song, Turning the Page (Yeah, we know it’s from Twilight, but that doesn’t stop it from being any less romantic). He was kneeled on a red and white picnic blanket, the typical one you’d see in catalogues for fall. On the blanket were rose petals scattered. 

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), you have changed my life for the better. The moment you saw me in the E.R., and had to take care of my broken hand, I knew you were just as kind and gentle as you looked. Once you let me in, and take you on that shitty first date, I got to see the real you. The you that cries during every Disney movie, the you that would bring me breakfast in bed when I had a rough day, the you that would rescue a damn pigeon off the street because it looked sad. You are the most sincere, selfless, and intelligent woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I don’t want ever want to stop or slow down. You have become my life and my rock, I’m completely lost without you. I am utterly in love with you, (Y/N). I want us to have a family, I want to make an album for you, and everything in between. Will you please marry me?”

You shuddered awake, looking quickly at your blaring alarm from the end table. Picking it up and turning it off, the time read 4:25 A.M., signaling it was time to get ready for work. You got up, and went to open the blinds to your bedroom, watching the snow fall steadily. Slipping on your socks and bathrobe, you shuffled to the kitchen to get a cup of tea brewing before you hit the shower. 

Mornings like this weren’t incredibly tough anymore, once Shawn was gone on tour. He face-timed you once a week because of tour, sent you letters and packages from your favorite cities, and even had roses delivered on your birthday. And of course, he always said, “Lemme see it. I wanna see you wear that pretty ring. There it is, there she is, soon-to-be Mrs. Mendes.”

Slipping in the hot shower, you played some of his songs, some of your regular playlists, and when you were throwing on your outfit, your two’s song. You missed Shawn. He had missed your two’s favorite holiday, Halloween, where you two always did the cheesy couple costumes. He missed your birthday, but he sent his family in place. He missed Remembrance Day, because in Europe that wasn’t a thing. And tomorrow is Christmas, where he has no sign of coming home whatsoever. That’s fine, though, because you took the long shift at the hospital.

When the song came to an end, you threw on your coat and snow boots, grabbing all the food and equipment you would need for a 12-hour and began to head out. Shawn sent you his daily vlog and you watched that on the shuttle. Once that was over, you got to the hospital where you would forget about your slightly more aching heart. After work, the routine would basically go in reverse. Commute home, get back into your pajama’s, drink some tea, get dinner, and go to bed, where you would have a restless night in an empty bed.

“When do you think we should have the wedding?”

Shawn looked over, a piece of popcorn hanging onto his lip like a lifeline. His cheeks were flushed and he still looked a little sweaty from the show he just played at TD Garden. He knew you were doing the planning to keep yourself from descending into madness (well, not entirely, but you only brought it up when you really missed him). “I think we should do a summer/fall sort of wedding, like when the leaves are red but it isn’t freezing by 5, ya know?”

You hummed in agreement, a smile picking at the corners of your mouth. “I completely agree. Do you want it to be outdoors then, because of the leaves?”

Shawn took another few things of popcorn from the bag and popped them into his swollen lips, he always licked them when he was frustrated by how a show went, or just when his mind was reeling. “I think we should get married outdoors, and then have the reception indoors. Kind of like-”

“Twilight...”

You both looked at the screen and snorted, sending both of you into fits of hysteria. “Shawn, we really base our relationship off of those books, didn’t we?” He looked over, licking his lips once again. “Explain, babe. I get a little bit, but our whole relationship?”

You shuffled in the bed a little bit, “Hear me out, Shawn-y boy. We met when you were hurt and I had to save you, or more-so your career. Edward saved Bella from the car, right? Right. So, there’s that. Then that girl who you worked on the album with tried to get you on the few dates, but that was long after we were official. Boom, Jacob plot line. Then you leave me for your first tour, which I get 100%, so don’t be upset over that. But the girl you worked with saw you kind of sad and made it her mission to befriend you and then attempt to change your mind over me... And our song is the one from their wedding, and we want an outdoors-y wedding.....”

Shawn looked at the screen, then back to the popcorn leaking butter in his hands. “Damn. So you’re saying that I’m Bella?” You began to shake your head, cheeks turning red. “Maybe I meant that wrong, but-”

“No, no you’re saying I’m Bella. Does that mean I get to wear the dress? I cannot wait to get married with no emotions and then have the ugliest CGI baby in the history of cinematics. Aren’t you so excited for that, my love?”

“Absolutely thrilled.”

The alarm on your phone blared once again, pulling you from Shawn. You picked up the phone, getting a few “Merry Christmas” texts from family and friends. You assumed Shawn was out partying with his crew mates, plus it must’ve been a busy day altogether. Turning off the alarm and standing, you pulled on the slippers and followed your routine again. 

Once it got to 6:07, and still no text from Shawn, you decided to call him. Immediately, you were sent to voicemail. With a sigh, you waited for voicemail.

“Hey bubs, Merry Christmas! I miss you more than ever, it’s snowing here pretty rough. I know you’d probably go outside right about now and insist to make a snowman or some angels, so that might be a mission for me after work. Um, I wanted to let you know that I love you so much, and I hope you’re having fun on tour... The apartment isn’t the same without you here, especially around this time. You’re probably having fun with your friends and I don’t wanna intrude on that, so I’ll hang up. I love you Shawn, be careful. Stay safe, come back to me soon. Bye.”

Wiping the tear that fell down your cheek, you stepped outside your apartment, hopped into the elevator and began the commute to your shift. You got to work on record time, beginning your patient rounds and vitals, then celebrating with the coworkers. Working 6:30 AM-9:30 PM would be a tough one, but whatever to keep you under that roof. Plus, double-time because of the holiday.

Once it hit 9:30, you booked it out of the hospital and onto the shuttle. Your eyes were barely open as you saw the texts from Shawn.

(Shawn) 7:59 AM: Hey babe, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call! I can’t wait to see your face tonight, you still up for FaceTime?

(Shawn) 9:26 AM: I bet you’re busy, but I’m gonna be in a few conferences and doing press so I won’t be able to talk for a while. Love you!

(Shawn) 3:14 PM: (Y/N) I don’t think we can FaceTime tonight, I have to do something for a fan and it’s really important. I am so sorry.

(Shawn) 8:44 PM: Are you mad at me or are you still working?

(Shawn) 9:32 PM: Something is waiting for you at home, it’s your gift. I hope this can make up for the call!

You hopped out of the shuttle, heart feeling extra heavy as you walked into the apartment. The string lights and streamers along the walls were taunting you as the elevator brought you to your floor, and you tried to compose yourself until you would get inside. Stepping up to your door, you looked for the present, to no avail.

(Y/N) 9:45 PM: Shawn I don’t see a package

(Shawn) 9:45 PM: Mom must’ve brought it inside, I’m sure it’s there.

With a huff, you shoved the key into the door, and walked inside. Chucking your purse and coat onto the hooks, while flinging off your shoes, you composed yourself enough to look for the package. If he got it express-shipped it had to be good. Checking the kitchen was no luck, and the living room looked normal. 

(Shawn) 9:48 PM: Bedroom, babe

With a gasp, you quickly buzzed to the bedroom, and laid your hand on the door. You stopped, hesitant to what was behind the door. What if it isn’t him? Taking a deep breath, you dismissed the negative thought and opened.

The room was filled with lit tea lights, rose petals on the bed and the floor, and Shawn. He was standing there in that chunky-white knit sweater you loved, with flushed cheeks and watery eyes, holding a bouquet of flowers, and your favorite song playing softly in the background.

You gasped, running into his arms with a squeal and sob, him mimicking the sound. He held onto the small of your back, and one hand on the back of your neck, and you felt his tears falling onto your skin. “I missed you so much, (Y/N). You don’t even know.” He pulled back slightly pressing his lips to yours in a soft embrace.

After a minute of kissing, you pulled back. “Merry Christmas, Shawn.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

[kicksaddictny]

Kicksaddict Sneakerhead PROFILES Interview Series: @CakedaGawd

After a long Hiatus, we’ve returned! Our popular Profile series has been requested almost on a daily basis (Thanks for the tweets, dms and emails). We were even threatened! (Thanks by the way).

Cake The Gawd! This one was so much fun. Tap in.

Where are you from? Brooklyn, NY born in Crown Heights raised in East Flatbush.

How long have you been collecting sneakers? I was introduced to sneakers in 1991 but I started collecting for myself in 98.

What’s your favorite sneaker and why? Air Jordan 6 Infrared. It's the shoe Michael was wearing when he won his first championship, and to me just it’s just the most beautiful Jordan shoe to date! The silhouette is unmatched, it is timeless, and no matter how many times it is retroed I will buy it!

Besides your hometown, what is the best city for sneakerheads that you know of? Why? I would say LA 100% !! It is a vibe out there. I am part of a sneaker group and 75% of the people in there are from LA. They really about the culture they know their shit and they are fresh as fuck too.

Do you collect just for collecting or do you collect and rock? I collect and rock. That is why I double up on certain shoes.. Some kicks you gotta have for store and show but some you just have to rock them!

What sneaker got you into the sneaker game? I cannot pinpoint one thing, it is so many things. It was Music, my parents introducing me to Nike, my older cousin, basketball, the dope boys around the way, and my 3rd grade crush and her cousin who both had Aqua 8's. (LOL) I cannot just say 1 thing because they all had a significant part in it.

What are your thoughts on these fake celebrity sneakerheads? I hate them all! All of these dudes just get perks, some of them do not even know the shoes. That shit really gets under my skin. Showing off shoes that they get and not even knowing the name or numbers of the shoes, creating their own names. Shit is sickening. S/O to the Sneaker Gawd Wale !

How do you feel about the Off white collabs? I liked the first round of the collabs. With the Presto's, Air maxes, Blazers, and Jordan 1's. I think after that it should've been left alone. But I can respect what they are doing over there. I just won my first pair of Off-White's with the Lot 50 joint.

If you could wear only one sneaker for the rest of your life, what would it be? Air Jordan 3 Black Cement. Yes 6's are my favorite of all time but the Black Cement 3's just go with EVERYTHING!

What advice would you give as far as storing and preservation of your sneakers? Wear your kicks man. I store and rock! I get it, wanting to save shoes but putting them away and never rocking them, when you finally do ya it’s separating and crumbling. In order for your kicks to last they gotta be worn anyway. Unless you're truly just on some collecting only for show vibes.

What is the most you’ve ever spent on a pair of sneakers? $900... I was able to land Black and Red and Royal 1's from 2001 together. A friend of mine had them and said he couldn't think of anyone else. I had literally just started my new job. A chunk of my first check went to that pick up.

Have you ever waited in line for a pair of kicks? I waited in line once in my life for shoes and swore I would never do it again. It was for the 2001 True Blue 3's. I waited online at like 7 in the morning at Kings Plaza. LMAO I said this will never happen again. I didn't have the patience for it. I do not know how ppl used to do that shit or camp for kicks. I was there for 1 hour and I was like this is ridiculous.

You're also a photographer, how long have you been taking photos? I have been taking photos since 2011 but officially became a photographer in 2013.

How do sneakers play a role in your photography? That is a great question because I didn't want the 2 to mix at all. Because I'm a scenery and landscape photographer. But I got into photography because of sneakers. No offense to anyone but a bunch of these  "influencers" get on IG with their DSLR cameras, take some on foot shots and call themselves "Photographers". 90% of them do not even understand lighting. I didn't wanna be one of those guys because I actually live this and study it. But recently I just started letting it be that and owning it. I am nice with this photography shit when it comes to sneakers. I have a deep connection with shoes and I love incorporating that into my art. I thank my wife for that. I told her I don't wanna be just another sneaker photographer and she said to me who said you have to be ?! I took that and ran with it. Off-White just recently featured some of my pictures on their Instagram.

I remember you saying you're a sneaker enthusiast, what is the difference between that and a sneakerhead? An enthusiast really studies sneakers. Sneakerheads just love sneakers like it ain't really about the history and all that for them. They just love shoes because it is cool and makes them feel good. Us Enthusiasts are invested. Things matter like knowing years of a shoe. For example, an enthusiast would look at a pair of Jordan's like Taxi 12's, We know Michael wore those in the 1996 - 97 season, but we also know that Martin gave away a pair on his show for the Christmas episode to the kid who had holes in shoes. They are tied to iconic moments. A sneakerhead may love Bordeaux 7's because they are dope looking shoes. Where for me it's that Michael Jordan wore those in a video with Michael Jackson and Kris Kross in the 92 Jam video. MJ and MJ in a video with Kris Kross, do you know what that did to my childhood?! Give you one more example that is not even Michael Jordan related. Piggy backing off of Kris Kross,The Patrick Ewing’s were one of my favorite kicks growing up besides seeing Pat play in them one of my favorite Hip Hop covers of all time is "Totally Krossed Out" and Kris Kross is wearing both colorways. So you see what I mean there is so much tied to it with being an enthusiast. This is just my opinion though some may not agree so don't shoot me! (Ha)

From the time you started collecting up until now, would you say that the sneaker game changed for the best or the worst? I have been collecting for 20 plus years now. I have seen the game at it's best, I have seen it die, I have seen it revive, and now I am witnessing the death of it again. The sneaker game is disgusting right now, and I honestly do not think it will ever recover. It really saddens me. It is a popularity and money contest right now.

Does pricing affect your collection? Hell No! And I hate that some people are trying to make this the norm. IDGAF if you paid $500 - $2000 for a pair, It doesn't mean shit.  The narrative is getting outta hand.

What does the word “Hypebeast” mean to you? Hypebeast is a person that only buys shit for status and popularity. They cannot form their own opinion about shit. They have to wear and cop items based on what every celeb is wearing or whatever these Social Media "Influencers" are saying is hot! It is not only sneaker related either. N*ggaz were hypebeasting for PS5 last year..

What are your thoughts on the females in the sneaker game? They are the best! I wish we had a Sneaker union and it was only run by females! The men in this game are annoying and so over the top. It is so bad that they feel the need to compete with women. The men get shoes just to show off to one another. Like what type of shit is that? The females are cool. I had a dude on twitter tell me women don't know the value of a shoe let alone about the shoe. The men feel like they always gotta try to shit on the women. The women are just trying to be part of the culture and enjoy it. And they shouldn't have to try to be part of something that is open to anyone who is willing to be invested and understand the culture.

Any advice for a young kid coming up in the sneaker game? Wear what you like! Respect the game and the people who have been doing it before you. Because this new generation of sneakerheads are little entitled dicks. No respect whatsoever!! I don't care about Travis Scott shoes. Without Jordan being who he is Travis wouldn't have a Jordan silhouette to collaborate with! Same with Off-White. These silhouettes were here before these guys. Say know your history and pay homage!! BUT STAY humble.

See I follow you and I'm loving the way you include your daughter in your work, what does that mean to you? Man, it is beautiful!!!! Without even trying she is invested in the culture. Both photography and shoes. Myself and my wife are both heavy into photography, art, music, sneakers, and clothes. My daughter is into all the same things but we are letting it be her own experience. We are not forcing anything on her. We want her to enjoy being a child and whatever things she picks up from us along the way is just a bonus. But I love shooting her, and I love when she asks myself and her mother "do we like her fit". It is truly a blessing man!

All photos by CAKEDAGAWD

Follow : https://twitter.com/CakedaGawd 

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