#the alternative is that they fucked up real bad and somehow are trying to fit over 13 years into 10 years LMFAOGNJA

[autumn-foxfire]

Alternative title for this rant: Gosho is a misogynistic writer and I am going to scream.

Time for the case where someone changes their face to Shinichi's! I have mixed feelings about this case. I do enjoy it but the romance aspect of it is once again really, really bad, but I'll be getting into it when it happens.

...And it's already time for me to complain. Can they just inform Ran about the aspects around the case instead of leaving her in the dark? It's so shitty of Heiji to constantly get Ran's hopes up about Shinichi showing up when he KNOWS he can't. This has happened so many times now and I hate it, especially when he's the one who is all for Ran knowing so why taunt the duo like this?!

Okay but will the opening address the symbolism they put in it, with Ran putting the glasses back on Shinichi because to her he's Conan, her little brother, not Shinichi her terrible, gaslighting, absent love interest? It won't but I think it's pretty important symbolism, as this also happens in this case though Gosho tries to spin it as something romantic in nature instead when it's really, really not.

It's a miracle Shinichi survived this case, considering he transformed in water. The transformation is already painful for him, and now he has to worry about not drowing too, while his throat is still extremely sore from the cold he has which would make it even more painful.

I know this isn't Shinichi but he looks like him and he looks good in these clothes.

"Ran cares more about the 7-year-old boy in her care who has gone missing than her love interest who suddenly appeared out of nowhere after a long time of avoiding her so that must mean something about this Shinichi!" It means that Ran is a good person who cares a lot about her little brother who she has been helping raise and I fucking hate this plot with a passion because it's so goddamn stupid T-T

Poor Shinichi, though, everyone hates him because of he wanted to protect the child of the mayor from the truth about the reason for the murder suicide.

I'm going to say it, Ran has no reason to be suspicious of this version of Shinichi and it speaks very badly about her character that the moment he doesn't behave how SHE wants him to behave, she writes him off <.<

Shinichi should have been a drama student as well, he did not need to put on the wig but he did because he needed to fit the theme of the monster in the forest.

Is it bad I don't find the reporter lady to be that bad? Yeah, she's a bit annoying but she's only trying to find the truth about the situation that Shinichi purposely kept hidden.

Ran: Should I be upset that Shinichi has lost his memory?

Kazuha: Of course you should be! I would be!

Ran: I don't feel anything, though.

Gosho a moron: Because it's not Shinichi and she somehow knows even though she shouldn't but I'm just making bullshit excuses as to why she does!

Me an intellectual (delusional): It's because she doesn't love Shinichi.

Heiji is a true bro, though. He saw his boy has stabbed someone, still believes he's innocent and goes out of his way to protect him.

Kogoro, Kazuha and Ran are so bad at lying T-T

And Gosho loves to make Ran an absolute idiot because he has no respect for her at all <3

Ran: Please make his boy the real Shinichi, the person I believe him to be!

Me: Ran do you even like Shinichi at all. Or do you just like the version of him you've made in your head?

We don't speak enough about Shinichi's talent at acrobatics as well. We see it often with Conan but not as much as Shinichi but he was impressive jumping from tree to tree.

Oh this case also reminds me of how much of a doormat Ran is due to Gosho. "Shinichi, don't go!" CHASE HIM RAN. INSTEAD OF ASKING HIM TO STOP BEING WHO HE IS, FOLLOW HIM YOU ABSOLUTE MORON!

Why can't he just give Ran's character basic fucking respect?!

And Heiji uses logic to come to the right conclusion, a curtesy that he can't be bothered to give to Ran because Gosho has absolutely no respect for his women characters and I'm tired of pretending he doesn't <3

This is why I am so angry about the canon ships. They're incredibly misogynistic in nature and this fandom turns a blind eye to it and pretends that people like me who also have other ships for the characters just believe so because we ship something else. I have NEVER cared about canon so Shinichi and Ran being canon does not bother me, what does bother me is how disgusting the writing behind the canon ship is.

Shinichi is crying so that must mean he isn't her Shinichi because Ran's Shinichi is a "macho man" who doesn't believe in emotion. I. Hate. This. Plot. Go fuck yourself Gosho.

I am angry. I am so goddamn angry. I am going to write Shinichi crying in front of Ran and I am going to make her have normal emotions about it because fuck that "this isn't Shinichi because he's crying" bullshit Gosho wrote the misogynist toxic masculinity prick of writer.

This isn't even the worst case for the canon ship. The worst one is the London one T-T

AND AGAIN SHINICHI HAS NO RESPECT FOR RAN TELLING HER TO STAND BACK WHEN SHE IS THE ONE WHO KNOWS SELF DEFENCE. FUCK.

Heiji: Ran has no interest in Shinichi when he lost his memories so that must mean that it wasn't him.

Me: I am going to punch someone.

This poor guy though... All of this happened because he was too in shock to hear the truth.

I really don't know how everyone isn't terrified when Shinichi starts to bend over in agony. Also we should discuss how he always grabs at his heart, you can't tell me it doesn't put a lot of stress on that organ.

Shinichi: If I turn back into Conan in front of Ran-

Me: What? What will happen? Will she be pissed off you've lied to her constantly? Made her reveal secrets about herself to her brother that she never intented for you to hear? That you've seen her in a state of undress so often? That you gaslit her constantly about your identity and don't trust her at all? So romantic.

Ran just isn't all that concerned that Shinichi let out such a terrible scream of pain. Just shouting his name casually like it's normal when if I was in her situation and my boyfriend did something like that I would rush to him immediately.

So romantic <3

Ran he's seen much more than what you wanted him to see. Kogoro, I don't like you most of the time but please do give him a judo throw.

Oh Shinichi is shorter than Heiji, or at least he was in that shot.

She actually chased after Shinichi for a change. What a surprise :o

And this isn't romantic, Gosho. It's Ran once again being told to stop chasing Shinichi and her being a doormat and backing down because he told her to be so :p Also I've said it before and I'll say it again, it is incredibly cruel of Shinichi to make Ran wait without telling her the truth. A comedy show did this plot better than Gosho does and it's so embarrassing. The man gave up on his wife because he didn't want her to wait indefinitely for him as he didn't know when he would return. Also she was completely aware of the situation he was in and she made her own decision of whether she actually wanted to wait for him. Meanwhile Shinichi just strings Ran along with false promises because she is his possession and only he is allowed to have her.

Kazuha: Lets go!

Ran: But Shinichi told me to wait! I'm a doormat!

Kazuha: No you're fucking not.

Kazuha has more respect for Ran than Ran has for herself. Typical.

I really don't get the framing to make Ran a nuisance to Shinichi and his secret. I don't get why his lack of trust in her and respect for her is considering romantic. I don't understand how people enjoy this ship in canon. Fanon I can understand, but people actually defend the canon for some reasons I'll never understand.

This is the only romantic thing Shinichi has done for Ran, not letting go of her hand because she said she didn't want to. That's it. And I think it's terrible and Ran deserves so much better.

[svturn-exe]

y'all mind if i (spills unfiltered au thoughts all over the floor)

au where mark is a ghost who attaches himself to thatcher when he comes to check on mark after the school calls. mostly bc thatcher is the first real person he's seen in days, but he's conflicted bc (deranged hissing) c o p.

he sticks around just so he can knock thatcher's pens off his desk. maybe he starts fucking with the lights and doors and powerpoint presentations during meetings. generally just causing small problems on purpose

mayb one day he gets pissed off enough tht he throws smth bigger across the room & now every cop is staring at him horrified & o shit, he's visible now. he fades away back 2 intangible after a moment bc he surprised himself out of his own fit of anger & it's funny to watch the police panic thinking there's an alt. but thatcher is still like staring @ the spot where he was like he saw a ghost (ha) bc thatcher's the one who found his body & he knows who that is

n in the following days every time a pen gets swatted off his desk if he squints hard enough he can vaguely see the outline of a person. so he's being haunted by a dead kid he failed to protect, which is great and not at all soul crushing and miserable :)

maybe eventually he just like. buys a ouija board and after a solid hour of mark flinging the planchette around with reckless abandon out of sheer pettiness they finally have a conversation

somehow this leads to thatcher going to cesar's house? i guess? bc he's investigating the alternates or w/e and hey. no better place to get leads than a literal victim as awful as that sounds

cesar is a poltergeist in his house, raging bc his mom died :( + he got got + the alt is going after mark next!!! maybe doesn't realize he's already dead? or not fully lucid, anyway. he's definitely at least a little fucked up bc the alternate stealing his face

thatcher almost gets his shit folded by a delirious ghost but eventually mark is able to get cesar to calm down a little & he goes and wails in the corner bc mark is dead :( & thatcher is just awkwardly there w/ scratch marks like. this is fine

n then he can get the security cam footage n everything and mark is ghost depressed and not throwing thatcher's pens across the room with as much enthusiasm

when thatcher & ruth are in th house responding to the "home invasion" together thatcher doesn't notice the alternate silently trying to merc ruth behind him but mark definitely does and he just starts throwing shit and making as much noise as possible & gets both ruth and thatcher's attention. so ruth lives which is fun :) she's traumatized but that's ok everyone in mandela county is

poltergeist ces somehow tracking thatcher down & he's just losing his shit b4 mark and thatch realize he's trying to tell them something but is generall just too Generally Fucked Up to communicate well & it takes a few false starts w the ouija board for him to tell thatcher that there are two teens at his alternate infested house and one of them has gone into the basement, which is a VERY bad idea

jonah's spirit is in the car he and adam stole & he's just not having a good time. thatcher finds him first and takes a sec to investigate bc he's gotta and ends up w a wailing ghost attached to his sleeve just kinda screamin abt how he left someone named adam behind and thatcher has to help him

adam is injured and traumatized, but still mostly alive, which is great. jonah chills out a lil but is still kinda inconsolable. adam can see the ghosts bc he had a close call there & is just staring @ mark bc dude. how r u a l i v e rn. he's super not alive he's a ghost

that's all the thoughts i have so far ok bye

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

I’ve just listened to The Bugle 4211, from November 2021, the first (and so far, only) episode to feature Stewart Lee. He was on there alongside Felicity Ward, with host Andy Zaltzman, and it was really good. I don’t know how they got Stewart Lee to do it; he explained at the beginning that he used to not understand the point of podcasts, but then did a few during the pandemic, and now he sort of gets it, it’s just talking to people. Which is sort of an explanation, I guess.

Lee/Zaltzman is a relatively rare but interesting combination. They’re weirdly similar in a few ways, wildly different in others, they fit together quite well in a few ways, and not at all in others. When they talk to each other, there’s a strong sense that they quite like each other, but are also both very uncomfortable. In a Taskmaster podcast episode that was discussing season 5, Ed Gamble once pointed out that it’s weird to know Mark Watson and Alex Horne have been friends for years, because every time they interact on screen, it seems like they’re meeting for the first time. Nish Kumar replied: “No, it’s like they’re meeting for the second time, and something really bad happened the first time.” That’s the best description I’ve heard that captures how fucking awkward it feels to hear Andy Zaltzman and Stewart Lee try to interact with each other. It’s not a perfect comparison because they’re not Alex Horne/Mark Watson level of close friends, but they clearly like each other, and this somehow does not translate to any ability to have a natural-sounding conversation in a professional setting. It’s fucking great and I could listen to it all day.

I based this on the three times I’ve heard them interact, separated by approximately ten-year intervals. One is when Andy Zaltzman came on Stewart Lee’s radio show in July 2003, which I think is the earliest recording I’ve ever heard of Andy Zaltzman. Then you have Andy Zaltzman’s bits on Stewart Lee’s Alternative Comedy Experience, from 2013, in which Andy did some stand-up bits and some interviews with Stewart. Then there’s this Bugle episode from 2021. So it’s not quite perfectly spaced out, but it looks like approximately every ten years, Andy Zaltzman and Stewart Lee sit down in a room somewhere, have a really awkward conversation, and record and publish it.

From those previous interactions, I learned that Andy Zaltzman opened for Stewart Lee in Andy’s very early days, and that they lived together during the Edinburgh Festival in 2005, during which Stewart Lee was amazed by Andy Zaltzman’s ability to spent absolutely all of his time watching sports. This was discussed during Andy Zaltzman’s phase of finding every joke he possibly could that compared sports to religion (I have a recording on my phone of Andy Zaltzman saying “May the sport have mercy on your soul” during a Bugle episode from the 2012 Olympics, and a couple of months ago I played it before watching final matches at the national championships, which I thought was a hilarious thing to do), and he expressed sympathy that “You don’t have sport in your heart, Stewart”, and therefore Stewart Lee has to just walk around experiencing the real world instead of escaping into this fake one. I have never heard anyone who understands the purpose of sports (or, possibly, religion) as well as Andy Zaltzman.

In this Bugle episode, they talked a bit more about early times Andy Zaltzman and Stewart Lee worked together, when they went on tour together in 2000. Stewart Lee got in a dig at Avalon (which he did not mention by name, but did tell Andy it was “the management company you’re still with”, with an amazing amount of disdain in his voice), saying they’d failed to properly organize that tour, by, among other things, not telling the venues that Stewart Lee had a support act. So they’d get places and no one would know Andy was supposed to perform, and often this meant he didn’t perform, so Andy Zaltzman didn’t so much open for Stewart Lee in 2000, as just follow him around the country for a few weeks.

I find that interesting, as it’s a very early version of Andy Zaltzman, pre-Zaltzman and Oliver, even. Andy Zaltzman did his first solo Edinburgh show in 2001 (which got nominated for Best Newcomer, so it can’t have been bad, but from the way he’s described that show since, it was definitely before he’d figured out what he wanted to do with his comedy), and the first time he performed at that festival at all was in 1999, when he was a finalist in the So You Think You’re Funny thing with Josie Long, Russell Howard, David O’Doherty, and Jimmy Carr. Which David O’Doherty won. This is veering off topic, I just think it’s an interesting bit of history. John Oliver did his first solo Edinburgh show in 2002, where he and Andy appeared in each other’s shows doing little bits, and just after that they started hosting Political Animal together and after that they did joint shows. So that puts it in context a bit. 2000 was before Zaltzman and Oliver, before Andy Zaltzman had figured out where his comedy was going, he followed Stewart Lee around the country in a wildly disorganized tour.

I sort of knew most of that already, and I also knew that Stewart Lee quit stand-up for a few years, in between his “double act with Richard Herring” era, and his “King of alternative comedy” era. The new thing I learned from this Bugle episode was that it was during that mess of a tour with Andy that Stewart Lee decided to quit comedy. He told that story on The Bugle, to which Andy replied, “I have that effect on people.” Which I enjoyed hearing, because I made that exact joke in a post I made last week, about how it’s a good thing Andy Zaltzman learned that he has pitch-perfect chemistry with John Oliver and got himself into that double act and then held onto it for as many years as he possibly could even when one person moved across an ocean, because Andy Zaltzman is so fucking awkward that this wouldn’t work with anyone else. Case in point, Daniel Kitson’s story about how he once chopped the head off a pig just because that seemed less uncomfortable than just hanging out with Andy Zaltzman for an evening, and sure Kitson said that incident occurred because of other stuff, but I’m pretty sure Andy Zaltzman just has that effect on people, making things so awkward that they have to chop up farm animals or quit comedy.

I often don’t quite know what to make of Stewart Lee, I think I’ve only recently started to figure it out a bit. I only watched him for the first time about a year ago, saw his Comedy Vehicle thing and all his DVDs/specials. It’s very funny, it’s definitely very funny. But I couldn’t tell how much of it he meant. At first I thought he really was that abrasive, and then I worked out that it’s clearly completely a character, he never means anything he says. I then slowly saw and heard enough other things by him to come back around to seeing that at least some of it does come from reality, but an exaggerated version of it.

He did an excellent two-hour interview on the Comedian’s Comedian podcast, which cleared up a lot of my questions about how real the character is. I also heard him on the WTF podcast, which tells you just how interested I was in hearing Stewart Lee talk while not “in character” on stage, because I cannot stand Mark Maron. But it was a really interesting hour of hearing Stewart Lee talk about his history and intentions and where he’s coming from, so it was worth listening to Maron for a bit. In the last few months I’ve also heard some other performances by Stewart Lee, when he was just on stage and not being filmed for TV or anything, they were quite different and it sort of bridges the gap between the guy on the DVDs and a vaguely real person. I think I can sort of put all that together to have some idea of where Stewart Lee is coming from.

Anyway, I say all that because it made me find this episode of The Bugle extra interesting, that it’s another side of Stewart Lee, one I haven’t heard very much before. Stewart Lee not “in character” on stage, also not doing his own thing or talking about himself, but trying to fit into someone else’s format. It was quite awkward, and very entertaining.

A big part of Stewart Lee’s persona is it’s really hard to tell when he’s being sincere, so this episode was interesting for the amount of sincerity it featured. Like this exchange, in which every word from Stewart Lee sounded disarmingly sincere, Andy Zaltzman sounded caught off guard by his serious response to a joke, and there was a forced change in the tone of the discussion because Stewart Lee was genuinely upset:

Andy Zaltzman: So for 1.1 billion dollars, you could either save the Congo Basin Rainforest, or you could get the broadcast rights for three months of Premier League football. So, I mean it shows how seriously we’re taking this shit now.

Stewart Lee: Is that true?

Andy Zaltzman [laughing]: Yeah.

Stewart Lee [not laughing at all]: That is the most depressing thing, I… I… God. I… that’s not, that’s just…

Andy Zaltzman: I know you’re a sport skeptic, of course, Stewart…

Stewart Lee: No, but… just the thought that… if you stopped three months football, you could save an entire rainforest…

I cannot emphasize enough how much Stewart Lee was not kidding here, they had to awkwardly change the topic. Felicity Ward jumped in to say it doesn’t work that way, because the pandemic stopped football for three months and the rainforest didn’t get saved, and it sounded like she was saying it just to calm Stewart Lee down a bit because this fact had upset him so much (she was right, obviously money spent on football doesn’t just get sent straight to the rainforest when games are canceled so this wouldn’t happen on a practical level, but still, it could theoretically happen).

Throughout the episode Lee didn’t seem quite able to match the tone that everyone else was taking, and Andy Zaltzman isn’t great at modulating his tone to match a guest’s at the best of times, so the whole thing was a delightfully mismatched mess. He kept cutting through Andy’s irony, which is weird, because irony is normally Stewart Lee’s whole thing, shouting at audiences but not really meaning it and things like that. But in this podcast episode, it’s like he was told this is a real-life conversation, and he was determined to make it that way, pointing out the reality behind jokes that rather rely on not having their reality pointed out. At one point, Stewart Lee responded to one of Andy Zaltzman’s jokes with the words “I know you’re making a satirical point, but…”, and just those words made me laugh out loud because they perfectly encapsulated the conversation, as he went off on another explanation about how actually though, this is the way things should be, like for real.

I’ve said before that I really enjoy the running joke about Andy Zaltzman’s lack of knowledge of pop culture, celebrity culture, or other bullshit things that surround anything like that. This comes up a lot when they get younger Bugle co-hosts on, and they enjoy talking about Lil’ Nas X or whatever and seeing Andy genuinely confused. One time Andy made a Black Eyed Peas reference in an episode with Nish Kumar on it, and Nish immediately demanded “How do you know about the Black Eyed Peas?”, sounded genuinely indignant, like that reference was a betrayal of who he knew Andy Zaltzman to be. Like Andy Zaltzman is meant to be the oasis of not following any of that kind of bullshit, and if he starts knowing about Black Eyed Peas, then nowhere is safe. Andy explained that he didn’t know who they were and had just looked stuff up for that joke and one of their songs came up, and I shared the relief in Nish’s voice when he said “Oh, good.”

Given that, I find it hilarious that in this case, Stewart Lee managed to out-“clueless about pointless bullshit” Andy Zaltzman, by saying to Andy late in the episode: “Can I just say that you asked us to look at the following headline: ‘Squid Game Crypto-Currency Scammers Vanish with 3.3 Million’, and then the sub-heading for it was: ‘Crypto Coin-Riding Squid Game High Craters After Dizzying Rally.’ I don’t know what any of that is about. I don’t know what any of it means. I don’t know what crypto-currency is. I don’t really know what Squid Game is, I suspected it was some game that Boris Johnson used to play at Eton. But I don’t really know what that is, and I didn’t really think there was time for me to understand it, and then have a funny opinion about it.”

At the end, Felicity Ward plugged the stuff she was working on, which she explained was a trilogy: one show about pregnancy, one about childbirth, and one about new parenthood. “Wow. That is an extremely ambitious and worthwhile thing to do. I mean, it’s really great. And it flies in the face of contemporary trends, of reducing all comedy content to a shareable seven-second clip. To come out of the gate of this with a Dune-style trilogy, it’s really impressive. Congratulations.”

That’s something that the character of Stewart Lee would get very upset about, shouting at the audience about reductive contemporary comedy trends, and last year, I’d have seen him do that and said “Okay, that’s a character he’s playing.” But this was said with 100% sincerity, and everything else aside, I have so much respect for that opinion. I’ve worked out that some of the underlying bits of the Stewart Lee character are real, like the respect for the history that created today’s comedy landscape and anger about people’s ignorance of it, and the disrespect for short shareable clip-able bullshit. Both opinions that I happen to strongly share and enjoy hearing him express, especially when he’s out of character and clearly means it. I mean, I’m not particularly interested in a comedy trilogy about pregnancy and childbirth and parenthood, because it’s not my favourite topic. But if Felicity Ward ever comes out with a trilogy on just about any other subject, I’ll check it out. (And to go off topic again, if anyone is for some reason interested in other trilogies by comedians who appear on the Bugle, Alice Fraser has an absolutely excellent one available to download for free.)

Stewart Lee also made a bunch of News Quiz references throughout the episode; a show that had been hosted by Andy Zaltzman for a year or so by then. Meaning I’ve heard about a year’s worth of Bugle episodes from after Andy started hosting the News Quiz, and Bugle guests reference Andy’s News Quiz hosting very occasionally, but not often. Stewart Lee referenced it a bunch of times in one episode, comparing Andy on The Bugle to Andy on the News Quiz, even though I’m fairly sure Stewart Lee has not appeared on the News Quiz since Andy started hosting it (he’s been on it a bit in the past, but not recently, I don’t think), so this wasn’t a job or anything, he clearly just actually listens to the News Quiz and that’s what he thinks about when he sees Andy Zaltzman. Which is pretty cool.

I think when I started this post I meant for it to build toward some sort of point, but I now can’t remember what that point was. The point is that I enjoyed Stewart Lee’s appearance on The Bugle. And I’m sorry that people keep spending money on soccer instead of rainforests.

[existentialflirt]

Okay, so, just a quick update. I'm still writing up Tara's individual page and like???? I must have been high when I started it cos it's so long and I'm just trying to figure out a good stopping point. Honestly I just think I was trying to fill in the gaps of Tara as an actual fucking character. You know how I feel about her. I love her, likely because I like Amber Benson's performance like she was given almost nothing aside from some idek, mealy mouthed commentary on evangelical religion or sexism whatever. It's kind of a dud of an episode, tbh. I blame this mostly on the fact that Buffy's lore is a fucking mess when you consider the subject matter. The thing is, religious imagery is a core part of the classical vampire myth and the show indulges it. Buffy's crosses, the holy water, and...and....other things?I'm sure holy hosts were involved somehow. (Listen, the thing with Buffy is I know it very well, but it was back in the day of huuuuuggggge, loooong seasons and I can't fit all that in my brain. I'm actually among those that support shorter tv seasons because I enjoy the focused storytelling with less filler because yes, there are some fucking amazing filler episodes but ummmm...Beer Bad exists so yeah.)

My meandering point is that Buffy is a serious nearly devoid of Abrahamic religiosity unless it's criticizing it or weaponizing the aesthetics against the monster of the week. Mind you it's not like I want Buffy to be religious or Giles or anyone else, but it still bugs me. Present in many vampire myths is that it's not just that a cross repels/harms a vampire it's because it's wielded by someone with faith (in more modern, less Christianity focused stories, any religious items of faith can make life harder for a vampire). I digress. I super digress.

Sooooo.....the update. I should be finished with her page later today, might make some bespoke promos, reopen for business, and work on obtaining bases for Tara and Crowley's icons. See: Me desperately googling to see if we have a new Hollow Art alternative yet. Searching tumblr will get you far, but honestly, then I end having a massive credits section which I really, really don't mind crediting sources, but it gets real tiresome keeping track of numerous posts with only a handful of bases like fucking kill me.

[drericka]

i finally saw some 2015-era plot descs of HT2 that says something like “7 years after HT johnny and mavis are married, but when they have a baby-” (or something like that) and now i can see why a lot of people seem to think that it took mavis and johnny so long to get married

but i think it was a poorly worded way on the producers part of saying that the (then) CURRENT events of HT2 is 7 years after the first movie, which would make more sense seeing as we know it now, Drac’s only aged 10 years since then (532 in HT, 542 in HT3)

so it’s not 7 years later johnny and mavis get MARRIED, but 7 years later, they’re married and have an (almost) 5 year old son, which then leaves like a 3 year gap between then and HT3, rounding out to 10 years hooray

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Bound Blood (Cassandra Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 1

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for blood, language, brief nudity. Later chapters will be M Warnings: Nah fam Summary: Local vampire finds out she can't kill soft human (because they're soulmates, baby), human becomes insufferable bastard, oops they fuck later. Soulmate AU where if one person gets injured, their soulmate feels the same amount of pain and receives a scar in the relevant area.

1: Sharing Is (Not) Caring

It’s not that you had expected to survive this- being locked in the dungeon of Castle Dimitrescu, waiting for the day you’re picked to be someone’s meal. Oh no, you had given up on surviving long ago, it was just that… well, you had hoped that someone with a softer touch would do you in. But here you were, too exhausted to cry, hanging naked in front of none other than Cassandra Dimitrescu. Her eyes were trailing you up and down, examining every inch of your skin, every flaw, every unique trait. It was like she was making a mental map of which parts of you would taste best. Goddamn, you wanted to spit in her face, or scream, or say something, anything that might make her feel even an ounce of what you had felt for weeks.

But you know that she’s already planning to kill you, and to make it painful. Why give her any more reason? Why dare her to find a worse way to end your life? There was no good answer, so you stayed still, just watched her move. Maybe if you looked bored enough she’d make it quick, just stab a knife in you and drink you up like a capri sun. Or, maybe, if you kept a straight face, she would admire your courage. Oh, how you longed for people to think of you kindly now, in your last moments, when dying clean and pretty was no longer an option.

Pulling a blade from some hidden sheathe, Cassandra approaches you with a wicked grin. There’s still blood on her lips from her last victim. Had they not sated her? Or had she been like this for some time? When she inevitably drank from you, how long would your blood remain on her lips? You weren’t sure that you wanted to know. In your mind, you picture her cleaning up as soon as she was done with you. It does not make you feel any better. Neither does the way she traces a finger across your chest, left to right, practicing for the incision to follow. She pauses to lick her lips, making direct eye contact as she does.

What happens next passes by so quickly that you don’t process any of it until the whole ordeal is over. The blade’s tip digs into your chest, just below your collarbone, before dragging along half the width of your torso. It hurts like hell, but you manage to keep your misery to yourself. But your pain is soon replaced with confusion; Cassandra screams, loud enough to echo throughout the basement, doubling over herself. In an instant her knife has clattered to the floor, forgotten. Instinct takes over your brain, the default programing kicking in, and you say something that fills you with instant regret.

“Are you okay?” Your voice is a bit quiet, and raw, worn out from lack of hydration. But it is enough, evidently, for Cassandra to hear. She’s rising back up and glaring at you, one hand clutching her chest. Something in her expression tells you that she thinks you’re mocking her. While that wasn’t technically the case, there was a part of you that found joy in this, watching your captor get a taste of their own medicine. The question left in your mind was why she was in pain. “I’ll take that as a no,” you said, again left with regret at your choices.

Now her hand is swiping at your face, nails cutting you open. Once more she hisses in pain, now clutching her head, shaking a little as she does. When she meets your gaze, you see that she’s more confused than anything. More than that, you see the marks on her face, knowing instantly that they match your own. Oh hell no, you thought, grimacing.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Cassandra growled through clenched teeth. Bouncing back and forth on her heels, she seems tense, unsure of how to process what’s happening. You feel the same way, desperately wanting to pretend that this doesn’t mean you’re her soulmate. Maybe the universe had just messed up, crossing some wires, or decided to pull a prank on the two of you. Either way it was better than the alternative. Eager to think about something else, you start considering your options. The first that comes to mind is ridiculous. Stupid, really. But would it amuse you? Absolutely.

“Not gonna lie, I feel better about the idea of you killing me now. Feel free to make it painful, darlin’, I won’t mind,” you snarked, lips curling up into a smirk. Oh boy was it satisfying to watch Cassandra’s response. One of her hands raises to smack you, only for her to freeze before releasing a torrent of swears. Hurting you meant hurting herself. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little aching? Haven’t you ever imagined what it’s like to be on the other side of things? Under the blade yourself, blood soaking your skin, eyes too dry for even a single tear? Poor thing,” you purred, tone as teasing as it could get. Apparently it’s aggravating enough for Cassandra to fight through the pain, as she slams her fist into your stomach, leaving both of you gasping for breath. “This is fun-” you pause to cough out a few drops of blood- “really, really fun. Hey, if you kill me, how bad do you think you’ll feel?”

Before Cassandra can react, either to speak or hurt you worse, the sound of approaching footsteps draws her attention. From where you hang you can’t see much, too many cells and hanging bodies blocking your vision. But your “soulmate” seemed to know who was coming. Her face scrunches up a little, and she adjusts her robes, trying to cover the mark on her chest. Had you not still been coughing, you would have sarcastically asked her how she intended to hide her face.

“What the hell is going on, Cassandra?” An unfamiliar voice asked. The footsteps grew louder, and faster, until the new figure stood in the same cell as you. Not even bothering to spare you a glance, she approaches Cassandra, reaching to examine her face. “Did a prisoner manage to get you? I’ve told you a thousand times-”

“Don’t fucking touch me, sis,” Cassandra snapped, pushing away her sister’s hand. Both of them are visibly tense, and for a moment they stand still, staring each other down. Then the sister (who you assume to be Bela, from things you’ve overheard recently) shifts her focus to you. Something tells you that she has no intentions of being gentle.

“Did you do this, you rotten little thing?” Bela questioned, glaring at you hard enough to send a shiver down your spine. But that doesn’t stop you from trying to have some more fun.

“Oh, of course I did! I rattled my chains real good, scared the shit out of her, made her fall on her own knife a few times. You know, like that one musical?” You must look insane as you speak, grin wide but face dripping with blood. If it unnerves Bela, she hides it well, though you doubt it does. As soon as you’re done poking fun she’s pulling out her sickle. Still grinning, you make eye contact with Cassandra, who realizes what’s happening a second too late. Then the two of you cry out in unison, as the blade carves into your shoulder. Instantly Bela pulls back, stunned, turning to her sister with genuine concern. “I might have lied. Rest assured though, it was for comedic purposes.”

The next thing you know the two sisters are shuffling away from you, Cassandra begrudgingly being dragged along by Bela. Though the younger of the two had been adamant about not receiving help, she now had little choice in the matter, skin searing from your blood bond. Even you are starting to breathe harder than you’d like.

“Was it something I said?” You barked, barely able to manage a fit of giggles between your coughing. Bela shoots you a glare over her shoulder, but quickly returns her attention to her sister. They talk, quickly, soft enough that you can only make out a few words here and there. It’s hard to make meaning from it, especially considering their vastly different tones. Cassandra is pure anger, gestures fast and wide, while Bela is oddly solemn, even regretful. When you finally catch a couple full sentences, things start to make a little more sense, though you wish they didn’t.

“We can kill them painlessly, in their sleep. That way you won’t have to suffer,” Bela whispered. She’s doing her best to comfort her sister, despite the tension in the room, gently patting her on the back. Briefly, you make eye contact with her. In that moment she looks equal parts executor and unwilling jury. But she looks away quickly, even shifting her angle to prevent it from happening again.

“No, fuck that, fuck this, I’m… I’m not killing them. Nobody is,” Cassandra growled, daring to emphasize her point by pushing Bela away. Now it’s her turn to look at you, brows furrowed, eyes betraying something more than just anger. Somehow it’s a million times worse than when she first came in. You strain yourself trying to look away, cursing the chains keeping you in place, resorting to closing your eyes and pretending none of this was real. “I don’t care what you think, Bela. They’re already my ‘meal’, might as well get what enjoyment out of this that I can.”

Again, footsteps echo through the basement. Tension locks your muscles in place, and your eyes are still clamped shut, to the point that you don’t realize your chains are being undone until you’ve hit the ground. Cursing under your breath, you finally open your eyes again. There’s blood on the floor, only some of it yours, and you’re suddenly aching for a bath. More than that, though, you’re praying for something to cover yourself with. Certainly Cassandra didn’t need to see everything, now that you weren’t a piece of meat for her to enjoy? As if reading your mind, the middle Dimitrescu daughter flings open a nearby cabinet, messily searching for something. Eventually she gives a hum of approval, then tosses a blanket in your direction.

“Put it on, dipshit, then follow me,” she snapped, already walking away. For a moment you’re tempted to stay there, sitting still, waiting to see how long it would take for her to notice. But one look from Bela sends the thought back to whatever crevice of your mind it crawled out of. So you’re moving, hastily, awkwardly wrapped in a somewhat itchy blanket. Other prisoners eye you as you pass, some shouting curses or even spitting at you. At first Cassandra takes no notice, or simply doesn’t care, but eventually the noise seems to irritate her. Turning back, she takes her sickle in hand and slams the handle into the bars of a cell. It’s loud, making you flinch, but gets everyone’s attention. “Next one to make a peep gets the blood eagle!”

“Is that, like, a sex thing?” The words leave your mouth before you can stop yourself. Laughter rings out around you from the few prisoners capable of it. Cassandra is seething again, looking about ready to kill you. Then she’s shifting into swarm mode, spreading out wide, insects barreling through half the occupied cells. A few cries escape the prisoners, as the flies take bites out of them, cutting a perfect balance between pain and (a lack of) lethality. They’d be suffering for days to come, every movement making their wounds ache. “Not a sex thing, got it,” you muttered to yourself, just as Cassandra reforms in front of you. This time she grabs the blanket you’re wrapped in, using it to tug you forward, sending you towards the exit.

“Shut up for five minutes and I might let you put on actual clothes,” she growled, keeping one hand on your back to guide you. The offer is the closest thing to kindness you’ve seen from her, and you have half a mind to do what she says. Would you actually manage to keep quiet for that long? Well, you were certainly looking forward to finding out...

[bonvoyagenoona]

These days i’ve been dreaming about this scenario where something very heartbreaking happens to OC so she’s crying in bed at night devastated and Jimin her bestfriend (who’s also in love with her but never got a chance with her coz she was always in a relationship) is somehow in bed with her comforting her and then they start kissing and shes sniffling and there’s a lot of breathing and out of nowhere she’s like i need you to fuck me and jimin’s like ??? And she’s like what am i that repulsive and he’s like no no at all with heart eyes, so they start fucking so passionately and lovingly and there’s a lot of communication like he checks up on her with every move he makes “do you like that?” “Is this okay?” And he thinks she’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seeeen..

Ugh ok im sorry that you had to read this but i can’t stop thinking about being comforted and kissing jimins lucious lips :(

Don’t apologize! What a kind, soft, sweet, comforting moment!! Ahh thank you for sharing it with us! Made me think of When Harry Met Sally, and High Fidelity, and of a BFF Jimin fic I wrote (Bear with Me !!), but it also brought a scene to mind... a little bedtime comfort and fluff before I finally nod off...

A car drives by. Or maybe the garbage truck. Is it that late at night? Or, actually, early in the morning?

How long did you go?

You can feel Jimin next to you. Still trying to catch his breath. Just like you are. Chests rising and falling. Eyes trained on respective spots on your ceiling.

His voice is soft, like it usually is this late. Or, actually, early.

“How do you feel?”

Your panting pushes the words out.

“I’m... I feel...”

You turn to him excitedly, contemplatively running a hand over your bare chest.

“...good.”

He turns to you, eyes flying open. 

“Yeah? Good??”

Stunned, you answer, “Yeah...” Your sad smile stretches across your face. “Still... y’know...”

Jimin watches as your eyes grow distant, patiently waiting as your expression morphs from contentment. To consternation. To grief, that heartbreaking grief that led him to your door, and then your living room, and then your bed. To surprise. To joy. And, happily, back to contentment.

His heart swells when your focus slowly comes back to him. And he hasn’t even heard what you’re about to say.

“But good. Really good.”

He grins. He wonders if you can tell how fast his heart is pumping. If you know that it’s pumping even faster than just moments before.

You nestle your temple into your pillow, thankful that its kept its fluffiness despite. “Why is this... Why have we never...”

You raise your eyebrows.

"I-I mean, like... Had you ever thought about doing i---”

“YES.”

A tender, lively laugh floats out of you, but Jimin looks gravely serious.

"I’ve thought about it. A lot. So many times. I hope that’s not weird to say. Or, like, that it’s not weird to hear.”

"Well, we already fucked, so.”

It’s Jimin’s turn to chuckle, as he replays the way you came for him. Moaned for him. “Yeah. True.”

“So?” you repeat. “Why didn’t we?”

In all his thinking about it, Jimin has come to several answers that he had made peace with years ago. Life. Timing. Fit. You were always with someone. He wasn’t worthy. You didn’t care for him, crave him, the way that he cared for and craved you. It was better to stay friends, especially over the alternative of being nothing else. 

But now that your starry-eyed, satiated gaze is settling into his, he realizes that none of these are actual answers.  

And he isn’t completely sure if any of this is real.

So, he does what people usually do when faced with this kind of blurry freedom. 

He goes with it. 

Even if it’s a delusion. 

How bad can a delusion be if it’s the kind where you feel good, and he gets to be the reason why?

"I don’t know,” he admits. And then, his mischievous eyes zigzag back and forth before his perfect lips smile and say, “But... I’m glad... that’s changed.”

You feel them. Hours ago, you didn’t think you ever would again. 

Butterflies.

“Me too,” you coo warmly, snuggling into him, as he wraps his arms around you, and rests his luscious lips on your forehead, “me too.”

The first tides of sleep are starting to wash ashore.

You try to say it before the thought is carried out to sea and lost forever.

“Can we do it again?”

Jimin laughs softly. 

“Yes."

You let out a happy, warm moan, the muscles in your body finally, finally relaxing, the waves of slumber starting to pull you in.

“But right now, it’s time to sleep. Hmm?”

You nod, nose pressing into his throat, forehead gently hitting his chin, his lips pressing kisses on each touch.

[bbodysnatchers]

Here’s an accessible page for mobile users! Let me know if any links are broken. All fics are frank/gerard unless listed otherwise. You can find my original page here!! (only for desktop/browser) When I add new fics to my page, I’ll just reblog this and add the new ones under a cut. ✩ - my favorites. (everything listed is GREAT tho ok)

✩ Burning Up in the Sun - akamine_chan  alternate universe - vampires, alternative universe - magic

Life hasn’t been the same since the Rift.Frank hadn’t been planning on getting stuck in this stupid town, kept captive in the sketchiest bar in the universe, chained to the counter like an animal.And just when he’d been sure that nothing could surprise him anymore, he was rescued by a rock ‘n’ roll band of vampires.He hadn’t seen that one coming.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 11813 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Empty With You - akamine_chan, jiksa alternate universe - soul bond

In a world where everyone has a soulmate, where do the outcasts fit in? Gerard and Frank are viewed as irreparably broken by the society they live in, shadows with no future, half-lives not worth living, and yet…somehow, there’s something between them. Not a soul bond, but something else that feels real. Something they have no words for, something outside of what their society recognizes.Something that just might be the death of them, or bring them back to life.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 36409 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard | Status: Complete

Magic Hours - annemarie alternate universe - ghost hunters

“What the fuck?” Gerard asks, weakly. His heart’s still trying to beat its way out of his chest. He’s honestly used to dealing with ghosts by now, but he always startles when they do their whole “turning up out of nowhere to spook you to death” shtick. Also, this guy’s not a ghost. So, seriously, what the fuck. “Who the fuck are you?” the guy asks, and Gerard splutters, because hey, this is their haunted house, so technically they’re the ones who should be asking that.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 8220 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

The Art Of Change, And Liking It, Too - antspaul / @girlfriend-frank alternate universe - career/work, alternate universe - teachers

Life isn’t glamorous when you’re near forty, work at your local high school and hate it, and are only one disastrous year removed from your divorce. Maybe it’s not all bad, but Frank, secretary to the school secretary, struggles to see the silver lining. Art teacher Gerard sees things a little differently. // AKA the one where they both work in a high school and are soft wholesome middle-aged men with dad bods.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 9859 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Pinkish - antspaul / girlfriend-frank alternate universe - kid fic, alternate universe - fake dating

Frank is a loser. At twenty-four, he works in a dead-end job in a motel with no aspirations or goals, and the only person he ever really talks to is his infant daughter. Gerard is a loser. At twenty-eight, he works in a dead-end job in a gas station convenience store, and he has no idea how he’s supposed to get his life back together after his disastrous early twenties from the seclusion of his parents’ basement. When an unlikely friendship arises between them, Frank doesn’t realize how much he’ll need an ally in the coming months. Then his daughter’s maternal grandparents come into their lives, seeking custody of their grandchild. In an attempt to improve his chances in court, Frank accidentally-on-purpose fabricates a relationship with Gerard, tethering him to the situation and to Frank’s daughter.

Rating: Mature | Words: 6k+ | POV: Frank | Status: WIP

Black Market Blood - autoschediastic alternate universe - vampires

Frank’s so fucking freaky he’s potentially wigging out a fucking vampire.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 16790 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Midgets and Madmen Run This Scene - autoschediastic alternate universe - prison

How assholes in prison fall in love.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 29035 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Conclusions - bexless alternate universe - work/career

A bafflingly long-winded, cosy domestic world of fluff! In this universe, MCR never existed. Gerard threw himself into art instead of music after 9/11, Frank owns an indie record label, and Ray is a studio musician.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 49180 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Mixed Bathing at Home - bexless alternate universe - work/career

AU which can best be described thus: Bex: it is a pointless AU where gerard writes comics and frank is in leathermouth, but there is no mcr Wax: mmh, aggro leathermouth frank meets gentle frustrated comics gerard? Bex: uh….no Bex: gerard gets his toe stuck in a faucet and frank rescues him. Wax: … Bex: it’s the stupidest thing in the world. Wax: how… how do you– nevermind, I’ll just read it.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 7145 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Picture of Health - brooklinegirl alternate universe - canon divergence, era - danger days

They’ve been on tour for less than a week when Gerard sees Frank hooking up with the dude from Twin Atlantic. Prequel to: In Sickness and in Heath

Rating: Explicit | Words: 10579 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ In Sickness and in Health - brooklinegirl alternate universe - canon divergence, era - danger days

Frank’s never been one to let sickness keep him from hooking up on tour.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 7910 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

Whatever I Want (Whatever That Is) - brooklinegirl alternate universe - canon divergence, era - revenge

The first time Frank walked in on Gerard going down a girl in the dressing room, he was pissed.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 9303 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ You Will Leave a Mark - brooklinegirl alternate universe - canon divergence

Gerard is twenty-two, drunk, lonely, and really, really needs to get out of the basement.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 24650 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Fate Don’t Make Mistakes - cedarbranch alternate universe - demons, alternative universe - afterlife

After meeting the wrong end of a blade, Gerard wakes up in a mysterious realm called the Under. He’s surrounded by demons who all seem to think he’s something special, but none of them will answer his questions. They reveal nothing except the fact that he died too soon. The only person willing to help is Frank, his self-appointed guide, who swears he can bring Gerard home. He escorts Gerard across the Under, and together they confront enemies, unexpected feelings, and secrets of the darkest kind. In the end, all it takes is one misplaced soul to bring worlds crashing down.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 81250 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ The Secret Life of Bees - eudaimon alternate universe - kid fic, alternative universe

Summer. Frank and his daughter have nothing left in New York, so they hit the road and end up in the tiny town of Orpheus Falls, NY. Frank meets Gerard at a farmer’s market, selling artisan honey. They start to figure things out.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 11969 | POV: Frank | Status: WIP - but works as a oneshot

I Don’t Know Where To Go (But You Gotta Be There) - fleurdeliser alternate universe - career/work

Frank and Gerard work in an office building together. One day, Frank doesn’t show up for their smoke break. And then again. Where is he? What can Gerard do? What happens NEXT?

Rating: GA | Words: 2689 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

In A Pretty How Town - fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone alternate universe - kid fic, alternate universe - politics

Single dad Frank Iero moves with his son to a new town. Everyone is nice, but the mayor, Gerard Way, is positively too good to be true.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 22594 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Neon When You Come and Go - fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone frank/gerard, frank/gerard/jamia alternate universe - work, alternatve universe - threesome/poly

All Gerard wanted was someone other than his mom doing his hair..

Rating: Explicit | Words: 21125 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Under the Hide of Me - fleurdeliser, tuesdaysgone alternate universe - mafia, alternate universe - werewolves

Prohibition in New Jersey means mob bosses and bootleggers running hooch up and down the shore and into the city. Gerard Way, his brother, and their friend Ray are running an operation for the Capo Maranzano. Rival factions are trying to take over the business, and Frank Iero, from a prominent Mob family, is sent to them as their new driver. But the Ways and Ray are hiding two secrets: their own still on a farm in the Pine Barrens, and something darker yet. They’re werewolves.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 18228 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

The Sewage of Youth - gerardsjuarez alternate universe

Frank was nineteen. He’d been nineteen for about a week and nothing had changed.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 27825 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

In the Morning - greedy_dancer frank/gerard, frank/gerard/jamia alternate universe - polyamory, alternate universe

Threesomes don’t normally happen to Gerard, especially not repeat threesomes with the hot new punk couple in town, but it’s not like he’s going to complain. It’s only a bit of fun – what else could it be? And yet… if it’s really that simple, why can’t he bring himself to tell Mikey about it?

Rating: Explicit | Words: 21141 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Crossed Out - Haze / @justlookatthewheat frank/gerard, frank/jamia alternate universe - time travel, alternate universe - canon divergence

There are three principles behind what They do. One: certain events must happen. Two: they must happen in the correct order. Three: they must happen at the correct points in their respective timelines. When one of these criteria is not met, someone has to fix it. Frank was just supposed to get Gerard on the damn boat and go home. Of course, sometimes the universe has its own ideas.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 136584 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard| Status: WIP

✩ Hear Me Out - impertinence / @stopthatimp alternate universe - canon divergence, era - revenge, era - the black parade

It’s not so much the turning into a girl that’s a problem; that’s happened before. It’s the fact that Frank doesn’t turn back.

Rating: Mature | Words: 23078 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Sing for Ourselves Alone - ineffableangel alternate universe - college/university

The college radio DJ has played 22 Mountain Goats songs in a row without comment and I feel like someone should call and make sure they’re okay.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 3799 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Two Industrial Loads On Hot - jedusaur alternate universe

Frank works the overnight shift at the laundromat, partially because it’s easier to push prescription painkillers on the side in the middle of the night, but mostly because there are fewer disapproving old people around to tattle on him for playing The Floor Is Lava on the washing machines.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 3288 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Old Scars / Future Hearts - jiksa frank/gerard, frank/gerard/grant, frank/grant, gerard/pete alternate universe - narcotics anonymous, alternate universe - polyamory read warnings

Frank is not a fucking junkie.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 50177 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard | Status: Complete

Dust!Verse - ladyfoxxx alternate universe - post apocolypse, universe - danger days

Gerard flicks the transmission switch to 'off’ two seconds before the battered kitchen timer whirrs a half hearted trill. He’s been setting it to one hour before each broadcast lately. Too short to be sweet, but when he says he won’t be found, he fucking means it. They find him, they find everyone with him, and though it was never his aim to be any kind of leader, that’s how things panned out and these guys depend on him now. He has to keep them all safe

Rating: Explicit | Words: 5,368 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

House of Wolves - LadySmutterella alternate universe - career/work

There’s an upper limit to how many wolf cubs any Wildlife Rehabilitation Specialist can be expected to hand rear. Frank passed this number some while ago. Now sleep is a distant memory, clean clothes but a dream, and he’s hoping against hope that the handsome guy at the door isn’t bringing another cub for him to care for. A story of wolf cubs, misunderstandings, and love set among the beautiful mountains of New Jersey.

Rating: NR | Words: 6984 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Dance While the Sky Crashes Down - maryangel alternate universe - post apocolypse

The apocalypse isn’t like in the movies. The real thing doesn’t need any blood thirsty zombies or big explosions. It doesn’t need any special effects. It’s just the end of the world. Period.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 55940 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Fit to be Tied - maryangel alternate universe - werewolves

Frank is a bartender. Gerard is an alcoholic. They were clearly made for each other. Also, Frank is a werewolf.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 55680 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard | Status: Complete

Burning Bright - mousefrnk alternate universe - career/work

When Frank’s grandmother passes away and leaves him her house back in Jersey, he takes it as a sign that it’s time to move on from fighting the dangerous California wildfires to a municipal crew. After one of the crew members ends up displaced because of an apartment fire, Frank offers up the rest of his house as a temporary living situation. Frank is expecting to end up sharing his space and to feel a little less alone in a house much too big for him— what he isn’t expecting is to find the crew member’s brother so captivating. Despite his hesitation to accept it, Frank has to consider the possibility that maybe he’s found a home worth surviving for. In which Frank is a firefighter and he ends up being roommates with the Way brothers (including the bright-haired and intense-eyed Gerard). Romance ensues.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 11650 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

I Know What It Means to Me - mistresscurvy alternate universe - kid fic

Gerard didn’t go to his single parents support group expecting to find love, but it found him there when Frank showed up one week. A single dads AU.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 9132| POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

Keep You Safe Tonight - mistresscurvy alternate universe - werewolves, alternate universe - historical

Frank is a werewolf. He’s out running in the woods one night when he’s shot by a hunter with a silver bullet, and ends up collapsing on the grounds of Sir Way, who takes him in to care for him. The silver poisoning has a weird effect on him, and Frank - who has never known finery OR or someone quite like Lord Way - doesn’t know what makes his head spin more.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 11035 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ On the Midtown Direct - mistresscurvy alternate universe - career/work

Gerard Way has a system: a system for managing his life as a city architect, a system for being a single man living in a house in Jersey he still thinks of as his grandmother’s and not his own, a system for finding one of the four solo seats in each car on the train into Manhattan every morning. He likes his system. It works. His system derails when Frank Iero sits across from him on the 7:59 Midtown Direct one sunny morning in May. A love story, one train ride at a time.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 23063 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

By the Book - mrsronweasley alternate universe - career/work, alternate universe - teachers

Frank Iero, the new English teacher, starts a teachers’ book club. Wackiness (and dubious literary analysis) ensues.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 10478 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Paris!Verse - mrsronweasley alternate universe

Part One: Gerard flies in from France in time for Mikey and Alicia to walk down the aisle, and to meet Frank at smoker’s lane. Part Two: Frank’s Big Gay Paris Vacation.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 43,243 | POV: part one - Gerard, part two - Frank | Status: Complete

Variations on a Fugue -mrsronweasley alternate universe - historical

Frank Iero is a young nobleman currently living with his parents in the Lake District, where he plans on leading a quiet life away from London and its temptations. However, temptation moves into his neighbourhood in the face of one Gerard Way. (Early Edwardian AU.)

Rating: Explicit | Words: 36123 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Ever Just the Same (Ever A Surprise) - mwestbelle alternate universe - magic, alternate universe - fae, alternative universe - fairy tale

As the only charm weaver in his small village, Gerard has lead a quiet but productive life. All of that changes when he crosses the path of a dark fae with royal ambitions. A fairy tale with wicked witches, magic, and (of course) true love.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 20832 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ A Constant Work in Progress - onceuponamoon alternate universe - career/work

Frank spends his time at Cedar Creek Elementary sucking at answering the phones, playing nurse, spinning in his chair, and avoiding glares from Principal Bryar. His life gets turned upside down when his cousin Dani gets thrown in jail and he suddenly has custody of her three kids. Frank copes with the abrupt change with help from his mother, his friends, and this Gerard guy that he (sometimes literally) can’t seem to quit running into.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 33429 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Septicemia - orphan account alternate universe - mutant, alternate universe - superpowers read warnings

Gerard keeps ruining things, but he never means it. Frank keeps getting hurt, but he never feels it.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 44884 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Let The Darkness Lead You Home - rivers_bend alternate universe - vampire

Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero’s parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he’s born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he’d go to in order to find a new family to call home.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 49208 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Distance in the Afterlife - sevenfists alternate universe - canon divergence, era - the black parade

Gerard comes out.

Rating: Mature | Words: 15504 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

Hey Mr. DJ - shoemaster alternate universe - career/working

Frank is a late night DJ, Gerard is an avid listener.

Rating: Mature | Words: 6180 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

'Til I Find a Place - shiningartifact alternate universe - canon divergence

Gerard had finally done what he had to do. He’d gotten out of the basement, and now he had a booth to himself at the Blue Moon Diner, where he could sit and drink coffee all night and calm his jittery hands enough to draw. It was perfect.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 12733 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Mafia!Verse - silentdescant alternate universe - mafia

Loyalty – Respect – Honesty: values Frank takes to heart when he steps into position as Gerard Way’s bodyguard and confidant.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 58,681 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ After - sinsense alternate universe - post apocalypse

“He finds pebbles. A bullet casing, or two, or fifteen, depending on the spot he’s searching. This time there’s a quarter, a twenty-dollar bill, and two bullets. He skips the quarter out on the muddy river, holds the bill up in the sluggish wind and lets it blow away. He leaves the bullets behind. He shuffles over on his knees, past the half-circle his hands have traced in the dirt, and bends down again. He’s been at it for a while now, maybe two hours. His palms are black with dirt. Before, he thinks, before he wouldn’t have wanted to do this, he would have gotten bored. But after, there wasn’t anything else to do. Scavenging is his job now. It’s the thing he does to earn his keep.”

Rating: Mature | Words: 16471 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ The Year of Living Safely - stele3 alternate universe - canon divergence Gen, One-sided Frank/Gerard

Post-sobriety MCR. This is as much about me and my own brother as it is about the Way boys, and Christ was it hard to write; it brought a lot of painful things to the surface.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 12147 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

A Red So Deep - stereomer alternate universe - demons, alternate universe - afterlife

Constantine AU. Warnings for gore, religious themes, suicide.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 14263 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Crooked Crown - stereomer alternate universe - canon divergence, era - bullets

There’s always a voice in the back of Frank’s head, tiny and barely registering after years of shrugging it off, but still present nonetheless. It says things like, this is a bad idea, and it’s satisfying now, but there’ll be consequences later. Or, this is the line and you’re about to cross it. Someone had once said that Frank had no conscience, which wasn’t true because hi, voice in his head. He totally did have a conscience - it was just that he wasn’t much of a slave to it. In any case, the voice dampens out even quicker than usual this time and he’s then free to scribble 'BALLS’ in Sharpie over each page of Gerard’s brand new issue of Hellboy before stuffing it back underneath the seat to be discovered later on.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 4312 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Godspeed Us to Sea - stereomer alternate universe - mafia

A Mob AU: “Well, there’s this guy.” Bob pauses and taps his fingers against his leg. The radiator starts up with a groan, making the walls buzz with low-pass frequencies. “Yeah, there’s this guy what?” Frank prods. He hates when Bob does this: holds out on information unless he’s absolutely sure that Frank knows there’s something more. He rests his elbows on his knees and leans toward Bob in what he hopes is an earnest way, but Bob’s huge stupid desk is sitting in between them and it isn’t very effective. “Come on, man.” “He needs someone. Maybe for about six months or a year.”

Rating: Mature | Words: 15444 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Into The Sun - stereomer alternate universe - mutants

“I think I’m schizophrenic,” he announced loudly as he swung open the door to Mikey’s room and hung onto the knob with a sloppy, damp grip. “You’re drunk, not crazy,” Mikey replied without looking away from his computer screen. “Yeah, but I’m hearing things.” Gerard pressed an index finger into his temple to demonstrate exactly where. “Not – not in my ears, but directly into my fucking brain, man. Someone’s plugged in, know what I’m saying?” Mikey didn’t look impressed, but he did squint over at Gerard. “It’s called internal monologue. You have a lot of it.”

Rating: Explicit | Words: 18233 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Tie Your Monster Down - stereomer alternate universe - spies

A spy AU: February 18 2003 0345 New Jersey, USA “Okay, so I think you bust out the paneling,” Gerard narrates to himself as he feels around under the steering wheel, prying his fingers into whatever gaps he can find. It actually pops off neatly into his hands, which is really surprising. “Right. Now what?” Frank has his arms crossed over his chest for warmth and is leaning into the car a little bit. Meanwhile, Mikey’s texting someone in the passenger seat, oblivious to the sprinkles of glass that are still littered under his feet. Gerard places the panel on the floor of Mikey’s side and trails off. “You…” “You want to look for the two thickest wires,” Frank says patiently. “How are you supposed to look for them?” Gerard slides off the seat, crowding his feet up against the pedals, and tries to fit his head under to see what he’s doing, but all he gets is a really close-up view of the wheel.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 25878 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Unequivocal - stereomer alternate universe - canon divergence, early days

This is how it would have happened.

Rating: Mature | Words: 38675 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

A Shot That You Can Chase - stoplightglow alternate universe - heist

Gerard Way agrees to help Frank Iero steal a multi-million dollar painting in twenty days. Their crew: a stripper, washed-up millionaire, online poker genius, failed film student, and crooked auctioneer. Their odds: slim to none. And that’s only if Gerard and Frank make it to the job without killing each other first.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 23771 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ The Circuit - stoplightglow alternate universe - racing

In the world of competitive motorcycle racing, nothing is more prestigious than the Grand Circuit Tour. Americans everywhere gather to watch as the twelve best racers in the nation compete for the title of Circuit Champion and $100,000. Gerard Way is no stranger to the race. When he was a teenager, his name was practically legend - but after disappearing without explanation six years ago, he’s become little more than a relic of the past. Now, at age twenty-six, Gerard is back on the Circuit with something to prove. It’s Frank Iero’s first year on the tour, but he’s more than ready. No one has seen a kid blast through the ranks so fast since Gerard Way first appeared on the scene a decade ago. With a cocky attitude and the whole country swooning over him, nothing can slow him down. The stakes have never been so high. Welcome to the Fourteenth Annual Grand Circuit Tour.

Rating: Mature | Words: 23771 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ The Scene Is Dead - stoplightglow alternate universe - music

Gerard says, “I’m spearheading a new solo alternative project, and you’re perfect for it. I want to record your album.” Normally, this is the part in the conversation where the other person chokes on their drink, or in some unfortunate cases, spits it everywhere. Something more than just staring blankly, certainly. But Frank’s face is completely void of emotion, like he hadn’t even heard what Gerard said. “I’m serious,” Gerard says, just in case that wasn’t clear. “No, I know you are.” Frank is still looking entirely unaffected. “It’s just — who the fuck are you, dude?”

Rating: Mature | Words: 12778 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Break The Walls (And Kill Us All) - tabulaxrasa alternate universe - ghosts

Frank owns an antique store, but he’s not very good at it. About the only thing he IS good at is having a crush on his best customer. Until Frank unknowingly unleashes something into his shop— something that doesn’t like him very much. And it’s not going away any time soon.

Rating: Mature | Words: 27156 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

✩ Public Enemy - tabulaxrasa alternate universe - mafia, alternate universe - detective, alternate universe - historical

In 1932, Gerard Way has been making a name for himself robbing banks up and down New Jersey. Frank Iero, analyst for J. Edgar Hoover’s Division of Investigation, is determined to catch him.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 21163 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

The One That You Are Looking For - tabulaxrasa alternate universe - werewolves

Frank gets silver poisoning. His pack protects him.

Rating: Teen+ | Words: 11769 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

Up The Line - tabulaxrasa multi-bandom, alternate universe - historical, alternate universe - WWI frank/gerard, various bandom pairings

“There are worse things than death. I’ve seen them.” First World War AU

Rating: Mature | Words: 54544 | POV: Gerard, Various | Status: Complete

Fog, Sheets and Thunder - theopteryx alternate universe - post apocolypse, alternate universe - dystopia

Not as grey as it seems. A post-apocalyptic postal service AU.

Rating: Mature | Words: 5536 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ This Tornado Loves You - theopteryx alternate universe - historical, alternate universe - curses

1933. Frank’s been on the run a long time and he’s forced to stop in his old hometown. At first things are about what he expects - old friends, unpleasant memories, and a less-than-desirable home life. Everything changes one night when he stumbles on an old hedge maze hidden in the woods. It’s not the hedge maze that intrigues him the most, though, but the secrets of the house hidden inside.

Rating: Mature | Words: 43976 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Headfirst for Hugs - throwupsparkles / @throwupsparkles alternate universe

“This is an escort service,” Frank says slowly, trying to find the right words, “except instead of a blowjob, you get a hug?”

Rating: Mature | Words: 19188 | POV: Alt - Frank, Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ In Your Sweetest Torment, I’m Lost - throwupsparkles / @throwupsparkles alternate universe - sex work, alternative universe read warnings

“Are you ready?” Frank lifts his head and looks up at Gerard, at his soft eyes and eager smile, and Frank just knows this man is going to tear him apart for better or worse. “Yes, sir,” he answers.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 70739 | POV: Frank | Status: WIP

Been Here Before - tuesdaysgone alternate universe - canon divergence

Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge took off faster than My Chemical Romance could have imagined. Gerard’s downward spiral was even faster. He hit rock bottom, got sober, and moved across the country to Portland practically as soon as he’d detoxed, leaving his band and his relationship with Frank behind. Four years later, he’s still clean. His graphic novel is a surprise smash hit. And he’s avoided New Jersey until now. However, everything he left unresolved is still there. Gerard knows he needs forgiveness. When he sees Frank again, he realizes he needs much more than that.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 22692 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ I Know What Boys Like - tuesdaysgone alternate universe

Forgetting about an anonymous bathroom encounter is harder than it should be, especially when it turns into something unexpected.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 10185 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

✩ Purgatorio - tuesdaysgone alternate universe - detective, alternative universe - noir

While on leave from the police force, Detective Frank Iero occupies himself with three things: drinking, brawling, and being alone. But when a series of brutal murders calls him back to active duty, he must find a killer while confronting people from his past, including estranged best friend turned businessman Mikey Way, and deal with his unwilling attraction to Mikey’s enigmatic older brother Gerard.

Rating: Explicit | Words: 27431 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

A World So Small - wordslinging alternate universe - historical

When Frank, a sickly young man, is advised by his doctors to leave London for the country, he makes arrangements to stay with his friend Michael, who just so happens to be in possession of a large, old, and somewhat creepy manor house. What Frank has no idea of at the time is that Michael has an older brother, whose presence in the house he conceals. Gerard is an eccentric recluse who spends most of his time hiding in the attic and avoiding any kind of interaction with people, but he finds himself fascinated with Frank, who in turn realizes that the house has secrets, and becomes determined to uncover them. When he finally does discover Gerard, their first meeting is only the beginning of their story.

Rating: Mature | Words: 31046 | POV: Frank | Status: Complete

Measured Against the Regrets - wordslinging alternate universe - canon divergence

AU where the band never happened and Gerard quit his job at Cartoon Network to paint instead. After hitting rock bottom and going to rehab, he’s back at home, struggling with a vicious creative block and trying to figure out his next move. When he reconnects with Frank at a Leathermouth show, the attraction is instant. Frank inspires Gerard more than anyone or anything has in a long time, but it’s up to Gerard to turn that inspiration into a second chance.

Rating: Mature | Words: 17769 | POV: Gerard | Status: Complete

[leviiattacks]

How about Levi x reader, where they get set up on a blind date by their friends as a prank, but actually end up liking each other

note :: honestly not my best at all but it was cute i guess T___T kinda an opposites attract thing also it’s a modern au !!

for some reason hange and sasha wake up one morning and decide they want to wreak havoc

it’s not peculiar coming from them

after all they are always up to something

like the one time sasha purposefully trapped herself in an elevator with a hot guy

or the time hange tried to make coffee with an energy drink mixed in it??

OR-

okay you’re getting sidetracked

but the point is they have no real reason for this new venture of theirs

when do they ever have a reason though?

somehow today their scheming has led to them begging you to go on a blind date

“he’s not my type i mean he’s old and whatever but you would like him” sasha’s stuffing her face with a buttery croissant

she doesn’t sound very convincing

then again, you have no objections to the idea

you’re single

you’re lonely

if it doesn’t end in love well ??? guess you could fuck

and if you don’t fuck well ?? you got to go outside and get some fresh air

BUT

the idea of blind dating makes you squirm

the uncertainty which comes along with the situation is intimidating

honestly, part of you is worried you’ll end up making a mortal enemy at dinner, not a lover

the other portion is petrified you’ll end up on a date with a murderer

what if it ends up like that one netflix show and you end up getting stalked????

you shudder at that thought

BE OPTIMISTIC Y/N!! YUP YUP OPTIMIST ERA!!!

levi feels the same way but his version of nervous is very different to your own

his fears are very different

what if his date appears prim and proper but it’s really just a huge facade hiding how their house is a pigsty?

imagine the third date in is a movie night in and he walks into a landfill site...

what if his date chews their food obnoxiously loud?

what if they just dislike him?

that’s why ideally he would prefer dating someone he knows beforehand

but there’s no one he knows already that he’s interested in

that’s exactly why when hange calls levi and asks him if he’s willing to go on a blind date on such short notice he scoffs and tells them that maybe if they got a life they would know that his answer is a straight no

he’s used to people not pairing well with him

he guesses it’s because of his sardonic personality, maybe it’s his occupation - he is constantly busy after all. perhaps it’s his foul mouth

erwin told him the last time he had a date that he should probably ease up on the cursing but it’s levi...

he isn’t going to change for anyone.

and really if him being little mean is that much of a deal breaker he won’t bother looking for anyone

he’ll go it solo he supposes

“LEVI. PLEASE. you both would fit together like jigsaw pieces.” hange is practically begging

then they stop for a second and wiggle their eyebrows “that can have many alternative meaningssss~”

levi purses his lips and shoots them a hard glare

“shut it, i’m not going. i’m busy.”

“busy doing.....?”

“cleaning i need t-”

“NO??? do it some other time please they’re smart, fun AND not boring at all.”

hange gives him a pleading look then explains how his mystery date has already agreed for sasha’s sake and he really can’t stand you up

“you want me to go on a blind date with one of SASHA BRAUS’ friends????”

he looks at hange in utter disbelief because that means you just have to be loud mouthed and annoying like jean or connie

or just be as stupidly unfunny

he shakes his head rejecting the idea completely

“i enjoy sophisticated people.”

hange sighs heavily

“give it a chance! c’monnn what if i bribe you?”

little does levi know hange and sasha have purposefully picked you out because of the way you’re both polar opposites

where levi loves order you’re disorderly, where he follows his own rules you don’t follow any at all, where he is disagreeable you’re agreeable in every way of the word

where he is cold, you are warm, he’s a night owl, you’re an early bird, you’re day and he’s night

everything about the two of you is different

that isn’t necessarily bad, but sasha and hange find it hilarious enough to set you both up on this date

if it fails it’ll still be funny

you’re rummaging through your closet looking for your favourite perfume because to be frank you are NOT showing up unprepared

like?? what if he moves in to hug you and he smells the scent of the chicken you were cooking today

yeah you did have a shower but sometimes you wonder if the smell lingers

you KNOW it doesn’t but it’s a matter of principle

imagine he leans in and smells marinated chicken

you think you’d die on the spot if that were to ever happen

shoving a pack of mints in your purse along with your emergency pepper spray you give your outfit a once over

it’s nothing too extravagant but it’ll do the job

at this point, everything is great! you’re walking out of your door and you’re pumped up

you’ll be early for once and there’s a spring in your step

making a good first impressions is key here

you’re so close to your uber BUT

then you hear it

it’s almost inaudible but you’re sure you hear a mewl come out of the alleyway to your right

you’re about to ignore it because you aren’t even sure if you’ve heard it correctly

and it’s late you don’t feel like wandering into an empty alleyway

but the sound only repeats itself

fuck.

cautiously venturing inside you see it.

eyes softening you look at the stray kitten in front of you and bite your bottom lip and scoop him up in your arms you’re debating if running back to your apartment and leaving him there is the best option

what’s the other option?

well you could bring the cat along with you...

it would be a funny story for the future if the date goes well

now. unlike you levi is nowhere near late

in fact he’s ten minutes early waiting promptly outside of the restaurant in his white button up

he fiddles with his collar and wonders how the actual hell he got talked into doing this

hange offering to buy him cleaning supplies free of charge is probably it

8:15pm, you were meant to be here five minutes ago

if you’ve stood him up he’s going to end hange for wasting his precious free time

especially when he rarely interrupts his schedule for anyone.

a few moments of silence pass and he thinks

how do you look? 

not like it matters to him

but he’d just like to know

okay, so.

it’s 8:30pm now

levi is royally pissed off that you even have the audacity to show up

you’re holding your knees as you puff in and out

“I’M SORRY. i know i’ve wasted all your time but i saw a stray on my way here and i couldn’t leave him”

the updo your hair is in is disheveled and fly aways stick out

you’ve ran here after your uber broke down that much is obvious.

to be fair, your explanation is believable and he would have let it slide if and only if

you had NOT brought the fucking cat along with you???

he’s eyeing it with disgust as it purrs up against you and you coo at it stroking its fur

“you want to sneak a cat into the restaurant?” he asks in pure disbelief

sheepishly grinning and scratching the back of your neck your response is “well i know we can’t but if you tried to i wouldn’t mind because i really like this cat :-(”

when hange said he’d have fun they were lying

but at least they didn’t lie about you not being boring.

he picks the cat up with one of his hands

looks it in the eyes

sighs then places him carefully into your purse

“don’t let him be seen.”

you light up and try to hide the grin forming on your face

he isn’t that bad

he’s a little too serious for your liking but you can handle that.

the two of you walk into the restaurant and fuck you because the cat has to start mewling and screeching

coughing rather aggressively to cover it up it miraculously goes unheard

he shoots you a sturdy glare because he’s able to hear the muffled sounds

luckily, no one else is standing near you or is within earshot.

gulping you realise this is not a good first impression at all

late to the date, bringing a cat with you, begging him to help you sneak the cat in

you feel guilty, he probably expected way better

“oi, move your ass” he snaps

you look up realising you’ve been too lost in thought to see levi walking in front of you

“sorry” you mumble

he doesn’t respond but he does look back at you

you can’t gather anything from his face because it’s either plain or he’s got his brows furrowed

currently it’s showing no signs of distaste so he must be accepting your apology

he’s kind enough, steps out of the way to offer you the space to sit down first

he sits after you and you have no idea where to look

then the cat cries again from your purse

“lucifer, shhhhh”

you’re patting him and try to silence him

“you’ve named it already?”

laughing to yourself you’re happy he’s initiated the conversation first

“he’s a little sneaky so i called him it. do you have any other names you’d like?”

“why would my input in this matter be relevant?”

“you’re basically his family now!”

he’s covering his mouth with his hands and you swear you can see the pink tinge of a blush creep upwards and flood his cheeks

but this man doesn’t seem like the type to blush over anything.

composing himself he sticks a hand out and finally asks “what’s your name?”

coming back to your senses you realize it’s been twenty minutes since you’ve met and you haven’t even had the manners to ask his name even after arriving late

“Y/N!! what’s yours?”

play it cool!!!

he doesn’t respond instead stares at your purse and points with his index finger

lucifer has escaped again and now you really are regretting bringing him along with you

whilst you’re grabbing the cat and hushing him your date hums “try to guess it.”

well, that’s spontaneous, he doesn’t seem like the type to entertain himself with games

you think hard, he’s serious but he is kind, you guess that’s why he reminds you of sebastian from the little mermaid

get it? because he’s sweet but he’s a crab so he’s crabby??

god that joke is AWFUL because it doesn't even take into account the actual character of sebastian the crab

but you have no other guesses available.

“hmm... sebastian?” you jokingly ask

“it’s levi.” he deadpans.

oh wow you couldn’t be more far off

playing around with your fingers in your lap you fidget nervously looking around for a waiter to interrupt the conversation

levi has to sense your unease because his tone loosens up

“...do i really look like a sebastian though?”

looking back up at him your bite your lip keeping a giggle in

you can sense the ghost of a smile on his face

“yeah like the crab from a little mermaid”

at that he scowls but he inquires what exactly that means

the rest of the date goes without a hitch, sure there’s a few moments where lucifer attempts to sneak away but levi has no problems stopping him

it takes a while but the conversation flows easily after the awkward barrier from before is broken down

it’s lighthearted and calm.

he’s humorous in a way you can’t describe

levi’s mannerisms are cute, everything about him is endearing despite the serious front he has

and you can’t quite put your finger on it but his demeanor is charming

overall you find yourself enjoying the date even more than you expected

now the two of you are walking away from the booth and the fresh night time air hits your face as you step outside

turning to him you smile radiantly and without allowing him to get a word in you take your opportunity by the reins

“second date?”

you don’t normally make the first move but you’re eager

and to your surprise he’s just as eager as you are.

it doesn’t even look like he stops to think before he nods and agrees to meet with you again.

exchanging numbers with him you wave as you and lucifer part ways with levi feeling satisfied

and to his shock after you leave it settles, levi thinks he just might enjoy your presence

well, that’s a first for him.

he guesses what they say about opposites attracting is true

[egyptian-sun-god]

Never Have I Ever (mildly critical lens)

1. BIG THING. NHIE is not a show that was made directed at me. Yes it has similarities with my heritage as Indian but I am not American. Not born there nor raised. I am a diaspora Tamilian though, and my schools throughout most of my life have had very little Indians and even fewer Tamilians in them. Usually its just me.  So while there is overlap, Devi and I would have innately different experiences and worldviews.

2. Why is her last name Vishwakumar and her Dad’s name Mohan? Where that coming from. Correct me if I’m wrong, but most to all Tamil people use patronymic's right? Like am I right or am I tripping? Someone correct me. I checked Mindy Kaling’s bio and she took her father’s last name so I might be tripping? 

3. Okay straight off the bat, Devi annoyed the hell outta me. Like no joke...I really dislked Devi. But she’s a traumatized teenager who has no common sense and too much hormones. I’ve seen ppl like her so I’m fairly happy we have a flawed and messed up portrayal of a POC and doesn’t feed into the idea of perfection. But also Devi’s mom is suprisingly lenient to Devi’s disrespect man. like I see why but woowowowowo....she’s uncharacteristically tolerant sometimes. 

Now even though I get that Devi is supposed to be flawed and unlikeable. Because she is immensely selfish and bitchy with shitty communication skills. Devi’s friends forgive her waaay to fast. Like ladies, what are you aiming for? SAINTHOOD? Like at least let her grovel a little bit for being such a bitch. 

4. Love interest. Y’all heard me. WHY THE FUCK IS BOTH OF HER INTERESTS WHITE or at least definitely white passing. Like they did Paxton dirty man. Like was it too much? Was it too much to wish for Devi to have more Indian friends or like an Indian/POC love interest? I feel personally that it is such a weird precedent that has been set with POC centric love stories. And this definitely should be a critic that has come up before. 

You know which love stories resonated with me? Nalini and Mohan. Because it represented the possibility of like marrying someone (going off the assumption they were arranged to be married) and falling in love after marriage. A very real scenario for many many couples. Kamala’s entire shenanigan with Steve and Prasanth and having to choose between the uncertain boyfriend situation but losing family but keeping family and going with an arranged marriage. Also props to Kaling for not demonizing arranged marriages. Please please let season 2 explore Kamala’s struggle more. Hell even that one off thing with Eleanor and the tech crew boy was funny. 

5. Kamala’s whole character was many vibes. Because counting down and stressing about marriage is such a goddamn relatable feeling. I ain’t that much younger than Kamala and let me tell you the anticipation/fear is REAL. And like her talking in Ganesh puja and like weighting the options of being a social outcast or going with the arranged marriage and with the hope that like you’ll find someone cool.

6. I don’t like how Devi tries to reject her Indian culture and I really really hope they develop that next season or something and get her to find a balance. Because at the end of that season she did get a good talking to about trying to be Indian enough or too Indian and finding that balance but it doesn’t feel like she’s finding that balance and her being jealous of the other Indian girl does not bode well for me. 

ALSO THEY FUCKING MISSED OUT SO BAD. You make a series about a Tamil American girl and you don’t name drop any famous stars. Thala Thalapathy, Superstar??? VJS?? Surya? Dhanush? Nobody? Why? Like Devi doesn’t know them...makes sense. But like Kamala is from town right? She has to have carried some of that. Like that scene when she called them for a movie right? Why not name drop some famous ass classic like Baasha or Sachein or Roja? Like a cool nod to the Tamil kids out there watching this series to see parts of their culture and language included. Like even the soundtrack and songs have no Tamil songs? Like not even one for the heck of it?? WHY? IS THAT NOT SO SO MUCH MISSED REPRESENTATION? Like typical Tamil things like making a beat out of random shit, Tamil kuthu songs, Typical Tamil mega serials, food and enjoying food together. Like why wasn’t the food stated or name dropped. 

Personally, NHIE was really really really white palatable and it didn’t really get it into any roots of our culture especially for a girl struggling to find roots as in where she fits. Like you gotta show both cultures and let the audience and Devi figure out where she fits. If you show long Netflix shows like Pretty little liars, show alternatives like mega serials such as Chitti or Mudiyaathu Karuppu or Mettioli? Or if you wanna be more modern name drop Tamil webseries’s? If you wanna show English pop hits, show Tamil album songs and kuthu beats. IF YOU WANNA REPRESENT, THEN ACTUALLY REPRESENT. Don’t pull this generic ass BS on me!

5. I hope the lack of tamil culture in the series gets corrected next season somehow. I don’t have ANY ANY faith that it will. But I can be hopeful. Also I lowkey like that Devi has like a “rival” of another Indian girl. I don’t like that is is rivalry cause brown sisters gotta support each other and that’s sort of been the general motto from where I’m from. But like I get why and it would make complete sense. 

I really really hope that Aneesha is like super super Indian. Proud of her culture and brings a lot of her culture and its facets to discussions and not afraid to make her culture a focal point of herself.  It would be a really good foil to Devi and it might spark some thought into her and accepting or at least recognizing the cool shit about being Tamil. I wanna see that mainly cause I used to be lowkey ashamed for having a strong accent when I speak cause I was made fun of and I didn’t like having different lunches or listening to different music and not being part of the more Western culture. But I learnt to ignore that and became like 3000 times more proud of being Tamil and wore like traditional clothes to school, ranging from kurti tops over jeans at first and eventually wearing full on chudidaars and saris (saris to proms at least, I couldn’t wear a sari on a daily, half sari probably, sari would be hard). Bringing traditional sweets and food and distributing them to anyone who would ask and trading lunches.  Please let me see a brown kid who is proud to be brown and straight up in your face about it at times. 

(Unrelated but to Tamil/Indian ppl who had other Indian/Tamil kids in your school like was trading lunches or like sharing lunches common? Like its a pretty common Tamil thing to do and I brought that culture of taking some of everybody’s lunch and giving everybody a part of mine everywhere I went. But like was that a thing? )

[mochiiwrites]

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 19

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 19

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 4274

Summary: Life settles into routine as summer comes in Wisconsin.

Warnings: FLUFF, swearing, some smut

           You’d never been so aware of the date after that, somehow feeling like you’d reset your circadian rhythm to know precisely how long two weeks was. Mercifully on the part of the universe, Dean had been right about the lack of reset function as long as you stayed within the same mind; once, just to try, you had entered Sam’s dream and found that Sam Barbie and Sam Mike hadn’t met Dean yet.

           At Dean’s request Sam put a huge amount of effort toward ‘being normal,’ integrating into the community in a more purposeful way. You became friendly with a couple cheerful hairdressers from the salon in the next town over when they started coming to the bar for after work drinks and Sam began getting invited to the poker games Steve hosted. One of your favorite of these new habits was going to the farmer’s market dutifully every week. It reminded you every time of how simple this new life was, where you had spare mental capacity to think about whether you wanted nectarines or peaches because there was no terror dangling just overhead. It also helped distract you from all-consuming thoughts of seeing Dean on alternate Sunday nights, the way your body felt like it vibrated with anticipation for the few days before.

           The two of you had been going for months by the first market in July, long enough to know all the first names of the regular vendors and greet them as you went. You were feeling somehow even more acutely anxious-excited at the upcoming Sunday, Dean having told you both last time that he had a surprise planned. It encouraged you to give more of a concerted effort to linger at every single booth, extend every single moment of killed time you could get from the outing. Sam let you lead the way, ring and pinky finger loosely linked into yours as you walked up and down the aisles of tents and tables in the overgrown gravel parking lot. He had a canvas bag half-filled with beets, green beans, some local honey, and a small carton of apricots. You paused to lean into his chest, waiting for Sam to bend down and kiss you in front of a table of essential oils decorated with macrame. The next one caught your eye, some hand-hewn jewelry, and you pulled him gently along.

           “What do you think?” you asked, holding up some earrings clearly too gaudy to match your style with an exaggeratedly fashionable face.

           “I think those really capture your essence, yeah,” Sam smiled.

           “Or maybe this?” You slipped your hand into a heavy bangle absolutely covered in turquoise that felt like wearing an ankle weight.

           He hitched the bag up on his shoulder and watched the show you put on for him, sweeping some hair back from your neck to let you see a set of earrings in the tiny mirror on the table. His gaze flicked over the wares and he gingerly picked up a small gold band from a tray. It was probably the most understated piece on the table, and definitely the one most likely to fit with the no-nonsense jewelry you tended to wear—the things you were drawn to being more sentimental reminders than ostentatious presentation, intended to be put on once and never taken off.

           “I think this one looks the most like you,” Sam hummed, offering it up for you to try on. The band was medium-thick with rounded comfort edges and when you slipped it on it fit perfectly, just barely tight enough to feel exactly secure on your finger. He was right; it looked good on your hand like you had re-found an old piece that you’d lost, and you considered it for a second before you realized Sam was talking to the woman behind the table as she finished a transaction with a trio of teenaged girls getting matching woven bracelets.

           “That one’s part of a set,” she cooed over to him, her hands resting in a homemade apron covered in embroidered flowers. “They should really go to the same home.”

           You were impressed at Sam’s ability to keep himself from rolling his eyes at that kind of faux sentimental bullshit, but she had already turned her back to you, rifling in another box under the plastic table. She turned around with a larger copy of the ring and darted out, grabbing Sam’s hand quickly enough that he almost stumbled forward as she started to slip it onto his finger.

           “Oh, I don’t really wear jewelr—” he started helplessly.

           “See? Meant to be, it fits perfectly.” She clasped her hands in front of her chin excitedly, beaming over the table at you and Sam. You had to bite your lip to keep from laughing at the expression on his face as he tried inconspicuously to get the ring off.

           “Um—wow, that’s really on there—how much for that one?” Sam asked, awkwardly pointing to the ring on your finger with his pinky as he kept working to try to get his off.

           “$50 for the both of them.”

��          “Even the one has gotta be more than that,” he insisted, based on the displayed prices of the gaudy jewelry you’d played around with.

           “I’d feel better knowing they were being appreciated together than I would with the money.”

           You looked up at Sam with the kind of melting cotton candy look you felt like had been plastered to your face for weeks, soft and gooey and something you would’ve made fun of a stranger for. He abandoned trying to get the ring off and tongued a molar before pulling out his wallet and dropping 5 $20 bills on the table, pushing them across with the customer service smile he used at the bar. “Thank you, they’re, uh, they’re beautiful.”

           She only unclasped her hands to stuff the bills in the apron, mouthing a “thank you” at the extra money and winking at Sam as the two of you walked away from the booth.

           “Should we get you a big chain? Or I could pierce your ears with an ice cube and an apple back at the cabin,” you teased, getting used to the way the ring felt on your hand.

           Sam couldn’t keep from rolling his eyes over a smirk. “I really can’t get it off.”

           “I think maybe you just wanted to match me.”

           He stopped walking and you spun around to face him, gazing up into his hazel eyes. “Matching you isn’t so bad.”

           “Oh yeah?” You watched as a slow smirk spread across his face and he looked down at his feet between you. “Thank you, by the way. I really love it.”

           “Just think you, um, deserve nice things.” A little color rose in his cheeks, and there was something so unbelievably sweet about it, being shy with you of all people. You had to press up to your tiptoes and pull Sam’s neck down to kiss him, but it was perfect, the light northern chill that sometimes drifted through the air even in July reminding you of your first kiss on that sledding hill except now it was your hand on Sam’s neck, blood seeping warm and loose through every capillary rather than the cold throb of anxiety you’d had then. With his lips on yours, delicate metal on your finger, and the earthy smell of the fresh produce in the air, you tried to commit to memory how unequivocally good the moment was, how completely outside the realm of possibility this would’ve seemed a year ago. Sam’s hand slipped to your lower back and pressed you to him. “Wanna get out of here?” he murmured into your ear, and it was all you could do not to jump him right there as you wound your fingers in his and wove through the booths to get back to the Impala.

           “Baby—you’ve gotta—fuck, I’m driving,” Sam laugh-moaned, shifting his hips just a little up into the hand you danced along the fly of his jeans.

           You leaned across the bench seat and licked the faintest trail up his jugular vein. “Then pull over.”

           His eyes closed deeply for a beat and hard swallow as he took a deep breath and took a right turn into what was likely a private driveway. It was a calculated move; probably not visible from the rural highway but if the people living here—the place sure to be occupied on a July weekend even if it wasn’t year-round—decided to leave they’d catch an eyeful of graphic roadblock. Knowing he was willing to take the risk made your heart race even faster, and Sam had barely thrown the car into park before he was on top of you, hand in your hair and tugging back roughly to bite-suck at your neck so hard and delicious you gasped before even realizing.

           He grinned into your skin as he kissed you. “Gonna—tease me—like—that? After looking so good—being so sweet—all morning?” You slid your hands in his hair and pulled back, crashing into his mouth and tasting the honey he’d sampled with you at the farmer’s market. You hooked your leg around his hips and rolled up into him, almost salivating at the firm length of him against you and the friction of the denim. He pressed you flat to the bench seat and started working the buttons of your shirt, so lightning-fast he ripped one of the last ones clean off, sending it skittering across the dashboard as it flew. “Sorry,” he smiled as you bit his lip, not looking very sorry at all.

           When your top was finally open Sam tugged at your bra, bypassing the clasp altogether in favor of exposing your nipples above it, somehow grazing his teeth and breathing cool air over them at once to send goosebumps flushing all over your body. You tried to undo the buttons of his shirt somewhat unsuccessfully for a moment before Sam leaned back and yanked at the back of his collar, tossing it in the backseat without looking as you flicked open his belt buckle and jeans. You grabbed either side of the open belt and tugged, making Sam’s chest press against yours and giggling into his lips at his tiny “oof,” when he fell forward onto the seat, throwing his arm out to avoid landing on you with his full weight.  

           With his torso against yours, he kissed you like he was gorging himself on candy; hungry and playful as you pushed and pulled against each other until you guided his cock out of his boxers and circled the tip with your thumb. Sam whimpered softly, just once and softly enough you might’ve thought it was a sharp inhale, but the broken concentration was enough for you to catch him off guard and shove him back on the seat across from you. He stretched back against the leather and door, pleasantly surprised behind widened pupils as you quickly got out of your shirt/bra tangle and kicked off your boots. It could’ve been some kind of pseudo-pornographic ad, Sam with tousled hair and undone jeans up against the door of the Impala, taut skin and muscles of his abs on full display as his arms spanned an impossible amount of the windowsill and seatback. If you’d had the self-restraint, you might’ve taken an extra second to soak it in, but as it was you pounced on him the moment the fabric of your clothes left your hands, slipping your fingers under his waistband enough to expose his cock and immediately sliding it into your mouth, hands still working to get him further out of his jeans.

           Anyone else making the sound he did would never have had the same effect, but the gravelly moan your tongue forced out of him dissolved you into jello and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. Rhythmically working the spit-slick between your mouth and hands, you dragged your head up to look Sam in the eyes, heavy tip of him weighing down your bottom lip as you spoke. “Hold my hair?”

           Sam’s eyes went fuzzy and dark as his eyebrows raised into a dazed smile, gathering your hair in a huge palm and making that amazing noise again as you slid all the way down him, nose grazing the dark hair on Sam’s abdomen. After a few minutes his hips bucked a little under you, Sam beginning to writhe on the leather. “Fuck, that feels so goo—hold on, wait,” Sam stammered with sex-frayed vocal cords, using your hair to tug you to his mouth and suck your tongue. The sensation stunned you for a moment but you could’ve stayed there forever, held up in his palm and flayed open for Sam to take.

           He trailed down your jaw and pulled firm when you tried to turn into his kiss. “Out of your jeans. Now.” You could feel the smirk against you and immediately started shimmying them off, loving this new edge to Sam, able to fully appreciate the grit knowing how soft he would be if you showed even the slightest hesitation. When you’d gotten the denim about halfway down your thighs he put a strong hand on your hip and flipped you over in the seat, your cheek flush against the glass of the window where he draped over your back like a predator. “Don’t. Move.”

           The shudder was involuntary but it was covered by Sam practically ripping the jeans the rest of the way off your legs and subsequent hoisting your hips into the air as he shifted your knees up to the leather, your chest pressed against the door of the Impala as you looked back at him. You didn’t have any warning when Sam slipped his tongue inside you, shooting your arm out to grab for anything to stabilize yourself and ending up with a handful of seatbelt. Your calf curled up as he worked those sensitive nerves, swirling a thumb into your clit as he went. Sam locked the freed ankle with an iron grip. “I said don’t move.”

           You whimpered and whispered dirty nothings you wouldn’t have been able to remember with a gun to your head until he smacked your ass hard enough you knew there’d be a red facsimile of his hand on you, and then you completely fell apart, shuddering and melting into the door. Sam crawled up behind you, chest flush to your back, and bit your earlobe. “I. Said. Don’t. Move.” You could hear the playful challenge in it and that made you even more crazy for him, wiggling under his weight a little involuntarily. He didn’t make you wait too long, pushing into you until his thighs pressed to yours, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm forward.

           “Holy shit, Sam,” you breathed. You could feel your muscles flex and relax experimentally around him.

           His tongue flicked around your ear as he pounded into you. “You’re so fucking hot, baby—can’t believe you’re my girl. Are you my girl?”

           The sounds you made were vaguely affirmative but to be honest, Sam’s rocking into you was pretty effectively scrubbing your mind clean of coherent thought.

           “Tell me. Say my name,” Sam murmured, voice low with sin against your spine.  

           “I’m your girl, Sam—your girl, I’m your girl Sam, I—holy shit—” you moaned as he picked up the pace and circled a sucked-wet finger around your clit and then you hit that sweet, sticky spasm, hand splaying out wide on the window. Sam covered it with his, interlacing long fingers into yours and something about the way the metal of the two new rings clinked against each other was so tender even as you were being rammed into the door. A couple moments later he drew back with a tense groan, dressing your lower back with hot spurts of himself while his breath started to return with ragged shudders.

           “Jesus,” he sighed as he eased off of you, suddenly gentle again. “Oh—uh, here, sorry.” Sam extended a veined arm over the front seat to snatch his shirt from where it had landed and gently wiped off your back. You let the cool glass settle your racing heartbeat for a beat before sliding back to the seat and the small pile of clothes Sam had retrieved for you. It made you smirk a little to watch Sam’s internal struggle over what to do with the dirty shirt, deciding to toss it on the floor before refastening his belt shirtless like he was in some Country Hotties calendar—Mr. July indeed.

           You opted not to tie your boots as you’d only be walking from the car to the door and looked over at Sam once your feet were inside the loose laces. He opened and closed his mouth but couldn’t come up with any words, smoothing his hair nervously back into place and chuckling against a bitten lip.

           “Yeah, I agree,” you giggled, leaning over to kiss his cheek before lacing your fingers together. “Do you want anything specific for dinner? We have a bunch of chickpeas, I thought maybe we could try making our own falafel.”

           He gazed back at you for a reverent second before turning the key in the Impala’s ignition. “I love you,” he smiled, throwing an arm over the back of your seat to reverse out of the woods.

           Tracing the angles of his face in the sunlight as he drove, you picked your joined hands up to kiss his knuckles. “I love you too.”

           After a few minutes of endorphin-filled silence, Sam turned to you. “So do you know what this surprise is Dean has planned for tomorrow night? I figured he’d have to tell you what it was going to be if you’re the one whose head it’ll be in.”

           “No clue. I thought at first maybe it was like, the Grand Canyon or something but ran into the same issue. Unless Cas’s taught him some new trick, he’s only ever been able to pull up places or things I already know—pick my brain for it, or whatever.”

           “Yeah, me too.”

           The air in the car held the content pensiveness for a few minutes of sunny road. There was no real heat behind it, just like there was no real heat in choosing between different rattan baskets of produce at the farmer’s market, and that same appreciation of the serenity itself washed over you. A surprise was just a surprise, not a potential threat, a date with Dean was just a date with Dean, no longer a finite, losable resource that had to be clawed at and fought for. You didn’t miss the heat. There was more than enough warmth in the sun streaming through the windows and Sam’s palm in yours.

           As it did frequently, Dean’s face in your driveway flashed in your mind, the memory somehow simultaneously old-picture washed out yet vibrant—could dreams even be memories? aren’t all memories dreams, in a way?—collar of his jacket flicked up against the cold as he said “you have to get good with this,” the flit of tongue you could see as he shaped ‘th’ enough to shape a painting class around, send a dozen art students into psychosis for inability to capture it. It had been so hard to figure out how the fuck he expected you to, how cruel it felt for him to ask it, and the only way you’d gotten your head around it was that same Dean Winchester Denial & Self Sacrifice Special and accepted it at face value. When he’d died you hadn’t felt like so many movies and books about tragic loss, where the strong but sensitive woman you’re supposed to relate to spent a few months in poetic sadness growing waifish and crying picturesque tears in solitude until she realized she could carry on.

           You couldn’t carry on.

           You couldn’t carry anything—were dragging yourself along in the most generous of descriptions, some half-dead, half-smashed zombie version of yourself clinging to any will to live like a barnacle out of devotion and need for Sam. Getting Dean back felt like life raft thrown into the water. You really had wanted to spend the rest of your life asleep and were more than content to ingest as much dream root as it would take to decompose into the cabin’s mattress next to Sam, let your landlord find your skeletonized bodies after a few months of unpaid rent. Fuck him, kind as he’d been to two strangers who’d needed help, and fuck hunters’ funerals for you and Sam if it meant you didn’t have to keep drowning.  Fuck Dean’s wishes especially, let him bend to someone else’s will for once.

           At first, maybe the first month after the dream root, only logistical reasons kept you from following through. What you wanted—needed, would’ve ruined the world for—was Sam and Dean together, and you couldn’t find a way to get Sam to agree no matter how obliquely or obviously you asked. He was unbelievably patient with you during this period of near-psychosis, and you suspected that a lot of the new habits he constructed, maybe including your beloved farmer’s market, were designed to keep you away from the greenhouse for as many hours a day as possible. You knew what he was doing, but the bright glare of panic in his eyes whenever you ‘joked’ about growing bigger patches of those little white flowers slowed down your singular focus enough to humor him, telling yourself it was just stalling until you could make your move.

           But damn if it hadn’t worked. Not that it stopped that tick-tick-tick in your brain counting down to Dean, but it made the days bearable. Just bearable, at first, the newness of your surroundings and the newness of Sam, all the things you hadn’t known about him after years of sitting inches away from each other in the Impala. And then it stopped being so much about fuck you Dean fuck getting good with you being gone and a little more about getting good with the way Sam’s hair dried if he went to bed right after showering, floppy, glossy loops and easy curls at the base of his neck; getting good with racing him down the rickety pier on the cabin’s shoreline, knowing he was letting you win and squealing all the way down anyway, jumping into the lake at dusk on Memorial Day with all your clothes on together as Sam cannonballed in behind you. Getting good with Sam’s arms around you as you both shuddered in the water, shrieking with laughter and a smile on his face of genuine, unbridled joy. Getting good with waiting for every other Sunday, because sometimes waiting was Sam bringing you a root beer float in your favorite mug while you read, and sometimes it was feeling him fall asleep against you while you scratched his back.

            Then getting good with the way it became less taboo to talk about him, being able to casually repeat old jokes of Dean’s without feeling like you were being stabbed in the chest or being terrified of sending Sam into a spiral. Getting good with memories of your old life together, your old friends, truly able to appreciate them. Because Dean was right, you had been ‘upset because you wanted something that didn’t exist.’ You could stay upset about it, stay so fucking mad about the unfairness of it all, that after all Dean had done—for you, for the world—that he was fucking gone, didn’t get to live in a cabin or have a couple daughters to braid Uncle Sammy’s hair—God, Dean saying that had haunted you maybe more than anything—and let it necrotize you from the inside out. Or you could let the ways he had permeated your very being serve as more commemoration than most people ever dream of, appreciate that the Impala still felt like an extension of him, see glimmers of the way he and Sam were still connected every day.

           And, of course, visit him at night to take the edge off, love him and kiss him and scream until you laughed. Annoying as it was to admit it, all that getting good slowly let you see what he’d been trying to open your eyes to in that driveway. You had so much more than anyone in the world. How stupid, how greedy, to have all of that and cut yourself off from anything else because it wasn’t exactly the way you wanted it to be. Looking back at it felt like watching a home video of yourself as a kid throwing a tantrum, but for ages, and you almost couldn’t believe Sam had stuck right by your side through it all, guided you gently and patiently even through his own battle. Sweet, beautiful, loyal Sam.

           As if on cue, he looked over at you. The sun poured through the windshield and shone off his hair like a halo, sparkled like glitter in his eyes. Someone who’d had a normal life would’ve said he looked angelic. But you had so much more than that, got to see both that golden hour was giving you a bit of a heavy-handed metaphor and that Sam was not only more than angelic, he was the whole world. He was the life raft all along, Dean’s Herculean return to you the lighthouse that let you see what had been there from the start, what had never left. His fingers tightened around yours a fraction. “Thanks for coming with me today.”

           The smile splitting your face felt like the first delicious stretch after sleeping in on a rainy morning. “Wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without you.”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 20

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Sonic Youth Albums Ranked (Part 3)

6. Sister (1987)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Alternative Rock, Post-Punk

A decent sampling of: Experimental Rock

This is the first LP in the Sonic Youth discography accessible enough to be labelled a true ‘Alternative Rock’ record. It’s still rough around the edges, but Sister is full of catchy hooks and thrilling guitar sounds. I feel like this record and Daydream Nation probably went on to spawn at least 200 new alternative rock bands by the time the 90s came around (not that I was there to see it or anything, just speculation).

Sister deserves a lot of credit for solidifying on tracks like “Catholic Block” and “Stereo Sanctity” what would become the dominant formula for the band’s sound throughout most of the rest of their discography. I think that's part of the reason why this is Sonic Youth’s second most acclaimed and beloved record. Perhaps some fans would even be downright offended that I only put this at #6 on the list, but trust me when I say that this is only because the band has made so many fantastic records. In fact, for most bands, this would easily be their greatest record.

I can still remember the first time I heard the opening to “Schizophrenia”, I had never heard anything quite like it. The guitars sound upbeat yet worn out and dejected, making me feel isolated and almost spiritually weak when I listen to this track, yet somehow also comforted. The song is partially inspired by Kim’s older brother who has schizophrenia, though the roles are reversed in this song with a brother whose sister is schizophrenic. It’s a deeply fascinating and memorable piece, and I can see why many fans consider this to be a top five Sonic Youth track.

Most of the rest of Sister is very scratchy and punkish with some very tight guitar work, like “Catholic Block” which boasts one of my favourite melodic riffs in the Sonic Youth canon. There’s also “Hot Wire My Heart”, another major highlight and a cover of the obscure British punk band Crime, where Sonic Youth takes their song and upgrades the guitars and drums while also adding a bold wall of feedback at the end.

Then there’s “Pacific Coast Highway”, a completely sickening song and one of Kim’s very finest moments as a lyricist and vocalist. This haunting noise rock jumble tells the story of either a unhinged stranger, or perhaps a resentful ex-lover, who is obsessively catcalling the listener from their car, with the not-so-subtle implication that you’re all by yourself somewhere and that this person intends to harm you. I have no idea if this was written about a personal experience, but I do know from listening to their voices that this is something many women have either gone through or live in perpetual fear of. Seriously fucked up stuff, but also one of Sonic Youth’s very best tracks.

"Cotton Crown” is an odd one out in the Sonic Youth discography; an uncharacteristically sincere but still off-kilter love song that Kim and Thurston sing as a duet. Their voices are a bit out of tune with each other, but i think that honestly fits the Sonic Youth aesthetic and it’s sweet in its own quirky way, although very bittersweet decades later with hindsight about the fate of their relationship. Sort of a noise rock lullaby almost, maybe even with hints of early shoegaze.

Sister does a really good job of taking the seemingly juxtaposing ideas of the ‘fun’ and the ‘grotesque’ and fuses them together. This album is both largely exciting and still somehow alienating and depressive. It’s textbook Sonic Youth, really. I will say that the best tracks are clustered together with a noticeably weaker middle portion, but really this is still a consistently great record throughout. Altogether, Sister is one of the many entries in the band’s discography from 1986 through 1990 where Sonic Youth could basically do no wrong. A classic record.

9/10

highlights: “Pacific Coast Highway”, “Schizophrenia”, ‘Catholic Block”, “Cotton Crown”, “Hot Wire My Heart”, “Beauty Lies in the Eye”

5. A Thousand Leaves (1998)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Experimental Rock

A decent sampling of: Alternative Rock, Post-Rock, Neo-Psychedelia

I’m just gonna say this now: A Thousand Leaves is by far Sonic Youth’s most underrated record. It’s also the last truly amazing record that the band ever put out. Maybe it’s just the bizarre choice of an album cover that turns people off of this LP. Really, what the hell were they going for here with the minimalist hamster vibes? The beautiful title really suggests something a lot more visually stunning.

In all seriousness though, I feel like nobody talks about this one because it’s overshadowed by its predecessor Washing Machine, but if there’s one area that this record exceeds above all other Sonic Youth LPs, it’s that it perfectly captures that mellow feeling that the later Sonic Youth albums were inclined towards. Not a lot of Sonic Youth records put me at ease like this one does.

Likewise, this is maybe the most ‘feel-good’ record in their discography along with Murray Street. But where Muray Street is something you could put on in the background and enjoy pretty modestly, A Thousand Leaves is a largely experimental, out-of-body experience that pulls you into its surreal, flowery, evergreen world.

“Contre Le Sexism” is a perfect opener for this kind of record; this quiet daze of a waking dream is both dainty and delirious, alluding to Alice in Wonderland with Kim’s vocals never before sounding so gentle and bright. I swear I start to hear a door creak at the end. Maybe that’s the sound of stepping out into the rest of A Thousand Leaves.

What follows immediately after is “Sunday” which is actually one of the band’s poppiest moments, making it somewhat of an outlier on this highly avant-garde and immersive record. But the warm spring vibes of the melody fits right in. The wall of sound introduced during the bridge is a soft mesmerizing bliss more akin to a band like My Bloody Valentine, if not for the tiny distant screeches of atonality whirling around here and there. As a big fan of both bands, I’m all for this kind of sound.

“Wildflower Soul” is easily one of the best things Sonic Youth has ever written. Endless amounts of creativity are poured into this nine minute noise rock acrobatics performance along with a lyrical ode to love, nature, and childhood. The vibes of this one are really quite jaw-dropping given the fact that these are the same guys who wrote “Schizophrenia” and “Death Valley ‘69″. There’s such unison and harmony in the band’s performance here as they switch between different bpm and even time signatures, and the usage of the heavy phaser effect towards the end sounds nothing short of godlike. "Wildflower Soul” almost feels like an entire album experience in one song, and I’m beyond impressed every time I listen to it.

This makes for a hard act to follow, but A Thousand Leaves still has plenty of other highlights. “French Tickler” is a strange and satisfying track that switches back and forth between a playful melody and churning, stretchy distortion. “Karen Koltrane” is a murky but textured portrait of Lee Renaldo’s ex-girlfriend, who got addicted to hallucinogens and became heavily withdrawn from the rest of the world. “Snare, Girl” is a soothing spell where Thurston sounds like he’s trying to coax the listener into a never-ending slumber.

My only real complaint here is “Hits of Sunshine (For Allen Ginsberg)”, a lackadaisical jam session that sounds cool enough, but really overstays its welcome given the lack of development it achieves over its eleven minute run time. It’s a nice piece to vibe to, but it very noticeably disrupts the album’s flow. Take this one track away entirely, or even just edit it down severely, and this would probably be a 10/10 record for me.

Still, wow what a cool album. A Thousand Leaves is a great example of why I respect this band so much. Even this late into their career, Sonic Youth were willing to try so many new bizarre things while also building judiciously upon the foundations of their past work with great attention to detail. I wouldn’t recommend most people start with this one, it’s definitely a bit more challenging especially if you haven’t listened to some other really weird experimental rock records. But once you’re in the right headspace for it, it’s easy to get almost completely lost in A Thousand Leaves.

9/10

highlights: “Wildflower Soul”, “Sunday”, “French Tickler”, “Karen Koltrane”, “Snare, Girl”, “Contre Le Sexism”, “Heather Angel”

4. Goo (1990)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Alternative Rock

A decent sampling of: Experimental Rock, Post-Punk

Goo was my very first Sonic Youth album, and I can definitely still feel some of the old teenage angst that I had at the time whenever I listen to this one. What probably adds to that feeling is the fact that this along with Daydream Nation is one of the two albums in the band’s discography that I’d say possesses a great deal of immediacy. Albums like Sister and A Thousand Leaves are a bit more subtle and they take a while to be fully digested. But this one, this one hit me like a brick wall.

Between “Tunic (Song For Karen)”, “Kool Thing”, and “Cinderella’s Big Score”, Goo is above all others the Sonic Youth record where Kim Gordon is really the star of the band, featuring not one but three of her most captivating songs. Likewise, I would also say that this is Sonic Youth’s most overtly feminist and socially conscious record.

I don’t know if anybody else feels this way, but to me the opener “Dirty Boots” really does sound like “Teen Age Riot” part 2. That’s not a bad thing of course, Sonic Youth making more songs like “Teen Age Riot” could never be a bad thing, and “Dirty Boots” is definitely one of the highlights of Goo with its massive build up of kinetic energy. That being said, I do have to say that I don’t think any song could do this particular kind of album opener better than “Teen Age Riot” already does it, but I still really do enjoy “Dirty Boots”.

“Tunic (Song For Karen)” is one of Sonic Youth’s most poetic and poignant songs. Kim’s sing-talking voice is even more solemn than usual as she takes on a surreal retelling of the final days of drummer/pop star pioneer Karen Carpenter from her perspective, highlighting the severity of her loneliness and the criminal negligence of many of the people around her who let her succumb to her eating disorder. Set to a backdrop of stark and droning alternative rock, I would say that this is possibly the band’s most depressing moment and certainly one of the biggest statements that they ever made.

A lot of the rest of Goo is actually pretty fun though. “Kool Thing” features Chuck D on guest vocals, and its a funny sarcastic take down of the subjugation of women’s voices in supposedly liberated spaces like the world of rock and hip hop, inspired by the time Kim interviewed L.L. Cool J and attempted to have a political conversation. The song mocks L.L.’s attitude towards women while also poking fun at Kim’s own self-perceived elitism. There’s also “Mote”, a sensational head rush that dissolves into noise rock weird-isms, sorta recreating the feeling of going from buzzed to totally black out.

“Mildred Pierce” is almost a practical joke but I kind of love the hell out of it anyway. A short track with lyrics consisting only of the song’s title, it starts with the band getting into a nice little riff before (without warning) bursting into a hardcore punk cacophony as Thurston screams the name over and over into the listener’s ears. Made me jump the first time I heard it.

And then there’s “Cinderella’s Big Score”. If “Schizophrenia” vaguely hinted at Kim’s estranged relationship with her older brother, then “Cinderella’s Big Score” confronts it dead on. Featuring some of the band’s most totally insane and disfigured guitar work ever, this song sounds harsh and militant, like the dawn of a nuclear cataclysm. It’s very hard to believe that Kim is 37 years old here; she reverts to sounding exactly like a hurt teenage little sister, rebelling against her childhood trauma and lashing out at her brother’s past bullying and now his cold indifference towards her.

The song grapples with some very painful emotions, but the experience is raw and cathartic. “Cinderella’s Big Score” is definitely somewhere in Sonic Youth’s top 10 tracks for me; it just doesn’t get any realer than this. Honestly, the record could’ve ended here. I like “Titanium Expose” enough as a closer, but this would’ve made a really powerful and lasting impression to end the album.

Despite that, Goo is an excellent Sonic Youth record that demonstrates just how much the band had mastered their craft after a decade of making all sorts of noises. Obviously I’m biased since it was my own first Sonic Youth record, but I really do feel like this is the very best place to start with the band. Goo is one of their more melodic and accessible offerings, but it’s also one of their most provocative records and it really captures the essence of Sonic Youth’s identity.

9/10

highlights: “Cinderella’s Big Score”, “Tunic (Song For Karen)”, “Mote”, “Kool Thing”, “Dirty Boots”, ‘Mildred Pierce”

3. EVOL (1986)

Main Genres: Noise Rock, Experimental Rock, Post-Punk

A decent sampling of: No Wave, Alternative Rock

If Bad Moon Rising was bleak and desolate, than EVOL is disturbed, uncanny, and deeply paranoid. Sonic Youth’s third record evokes the feeling of being all alone at midnight on a sketchy highway, complete with mental images of flickering street lights and looming shadowy figures. I mentioned earlier that I have to be in the right mood to enjoy Bad Moon Rising, but this record puts me in the right mood almost instantly whenever I put it on.

EVOL isn’t exactly a no wave album like their first two records. The highly experimental influence is still there, but the arrangements are starting to sound fuller and more intentional.

You could say that this LP marks somewhat of a transitional phase between Sonic Youth the no wave band and Sonic Youth the alternative rock band, and in many respects it has the best of both worlds. There’s a few catchy darker alternative rock songs here and there, sandwiched between tracks that could best be described as ‘mad scientist’ music, which altogether creates a varied and unique album experience.

“Tom Violence“ immediately establishes the tone of EVOL with crooked, scraping flashes of post-punk guitars. This track reminds me of heads hung low, bodies slouched uncomfortably, and the feeling of being completely wide awake at 2:00 am. There’s something very unfriendly that lurks beneath the dissonance of these sounds.

If “Tom Violence” is uneasy, then “Shadow of A Doubt” is an auditory nightmare, managing to capture something akin to the fear of being watched by an unknown stranger hiding in the shadows. Notes are gently plucked like icy cold fingers slowly crawling up the listener’s back while Kim whispers about murder plots and oneirophrenia. The “just a dream” lyrical motif is first uttered reassuringly, but eventually turns into a desperate plea as Kim begins to shout frantically and the music intensifies.

The album dials down the spook factor a few notches with “Starpower” and “In The Kingdom #19″. The former is an early example of Sonic Youth’s ability to combine melodic hooks with meandering chaos that would become refined on the next few LPs, while the latter features Lee’s first solo vocals (and one of his best performances) reciting a lucid, jet black vision of a car accident. Thurston threw firecrackers into the recording studio when they did Lee’s vocals on this track and you can hear it in the recording, and just like “Mildred Pierce” it really caught me off guard the first time I heard it.

“Secret Girl” is the scariest fucking thing in the whole Sonic Youth discography, and also just one of the scariest songs I’ve ever heard. It starts with a deep shuddering thud that sounds like it’s getting closer and closer. Then out of nowhere, a cassette-recording of an old detuned piano starts to play a simple, unnerving refrain while Kim offers a cryptic and uncomfortably suggestive spoken word piece. It feels like a scene that might play out in a horror film, where a television screen comes on by itself and the person on the screen begins to talk directly to the viewer.

Finally, there’s “Expressway To Yr Skull” (alternatively titled “Madonna, Sean, and Me”), which would be my #1 Sonic Youth album closer if not for the #1 album on this list. That being said, this song is still one of the biggest highlights of the band’s career. "Expressway To Yr Skull” starts off restless and spectacular, leading up to an utterly earth-shaking climax, and then it’s as if the song promptly dies, only to become a lingering undead entity that pulls you down with it. I still can’t get over how the ending really manages to sound like it’s dragging you down further and further into its barren depths.

To add to that, there’s actually a locked groove on the original vinyl release of this LP that plays the last little bit of “Expressway To Yr Skull”, meaning that if you let the needle sit there, it will forever loop that last little bit of droning at the end of the track. I really appreciate this little detail; it’s as if the pervasive darkness of EVOL is so encompassing that it could turn into a deep midnight that never ends.

EVOL is honestly so close to being a 10 for me, but just like Sister I find that it is decently weaker towards the middle. Still, I’m absolutely enamored with the atmosphere on this album. No gothic rock record has ever managed to sound so deeply unsettling to my ears like this little experimental record does. You really just have to experience this one for yourself. Honestly, don’t be surprised if in a year or two I’ve changed my mind and bumped this one to a 10.

9/10

highlights: “Expressway To Yr Skull”, “Shadow Of A Doubt”, “Tom Violence”, “Secret Girl”, “In The Kingdom #19″, “Starpower”

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

I literally found this blog recently and it’s awesome! But for your alternative ending, I was wondering what would everyone’s reactions be of Marinette missing for 5 months, to fighting her?

I honestly wasn’t really sure what this ask was asking for. I ended up writing their feelings about her going missing and seeing her for the first time in months. Sorry if this wasn’t what you wanted :(

(Also, thank you!!)

First part

Second part

Next part

@solangelo252 asked to be tagged

Everyone ready? Let’s go!

Dick

Dick is the one who has to stay strong for the family. He’s always been aware of that. It’s fitting that the guy whose biological family died due to their lack of safety net as trapeze artists ended up being the emotional safety net for his adoptive family. He is always there with his calm smiles, his bad puns, his warm hugs.

… that being said, who was to be his safety net? Marinette had served that purpose as of late; many hours had been spent in a rented out gymnasium, stretching and venting about their problems. It was the closest he’d come to a give-and-take relationship emotionally since his parents had been alive.

But now Marinette was missing. How was he supposed to vent about his anxieties about the fact that she was missing when she wasn’t there to vent to? Could he somehow vent to himself?

No. But he had to stay strong. His family needed him to. Without the Grayson safety net, his family would fall into early graves yet again.

So, he’d pull on that perfect smile of his and get to work. He’d force everyone to eat and sleep, he’d go out on patrols and make sure no one broke The Rule or too many bones, he’d make sure they didn’t close themselves off emotionally, he’d remind them they weren’t at fault, he’d listen to their problems, give them advice, hug them, help them, help them help them helpthemhelpthemhelpthem --.

~

Days stretched endlessly but weeks whizzed by.

And then Marinette was there.

His eyes had landed on her and he almost couldn’t believe it. Maybe he’d finally snapped. He’d held in his emotions, his grief and his guilt and his anger, and he’d held them in too long. And now he was hallucinating her. Now his mind had created a new her.

Maybe he actually could vent to himself now.

But then he’d glanced at everyone else and found that they’d stopped walking, too. That their eyes were still glued on that one spot. That they could see her and she was there. She was really there.

Emotions bubbled in his throat and tears stung his eyes and she was there.

“Mari?” His broken voice broke through the silence.

She brought a hand up to rest over her heart, almost as if she wasn’t quite sure he was talking to her despite him using her name.

Jason spoke next. “Is that really you?”

“Maybe,” she’d said, a bitter smile stretching across her face.

But Dick didn’t care about the warning signs, about the new demeanor, about anything because she was THERE.

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt. Held him back. He hadn’t even realized he’d been moving towards her, but that didn’t matter to him. Because now he couldn’t reach her.

His gaze fell on Tim and his brother had better have a good explanation.

“You’re pale,” Tim pointed out, blue eyes never leaving hers.

She giggled a little, but it was a broken sound. It was the kind of laugh a person made when they were trying their hardest not to cry.

“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”

Tim’s grip on his shirt had lessened but it wasn’t necessary at all anymore. Instead, an icy hand clutched his heart and held him there.

Because now he could take in the chill in the room despite the roaring fire under where Marinette had perched herself. The way her eyes were now a dull blue instead of the almost unnaturally bright shade they usually were.

He hadn’t been around to be her safety net, and now the Marinette he knew was dead and gone. He was staring at what was essentially Marinette’s corpse. She even had the pale, bloodless skin of one.

He’d failed her, and he had already learned that there’s nothing that can be done when someone’s already hit the ground.

Jason

It was his job to keep her safe, and yet he couldn’t do that. She’d been captured by the Rogues. It was possible she’d never come back. If she did come back she wouldn’t ever be the same.

And it was his fault.

He should have tried harder to get her to stop. Made her take a break when she’d accidentally killed that man in the convenience store. He’d killed before, he’d KNOWN how that would affect a person. He’d seen how distracted she’d been the previous few days, seen the cracks. He should have seen this coming. He should have benched her when he’d had the chance.

And now his protege -- his SISTER -- had been captured by the Rogues and who knew what kind of horrors she was facing at that moment.

Because they weren’t going to kill her. The Rogues were never that merciful, and especially not when they’d been slighted.

Marinette had betrayed them, had been sent in to pretend to be their friend and gather information and sabotage some plans. Rogues were many things, but they weren’t ones to fake being friends. They all knew their real standings with each other, their real opinions of each other, for good and for bad. No, to them, she was a heartless monster.

And they were going to make sure she paid dearly.

~

“Is that really you?” He asked, though he knew what the answer would be. There was no way she could still be the same her after what she must have endured.

And she’d said “Maybe”.

And, though he’d expected it, the confirmation and the way her voice had cracked just slightly on the word had made it all the more real.

“You’re pale,” Tim pointed out.

Oh god, he was right. She looked so much like…

“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths do that.”

Jason’s heart clenched at the words ‘chemical baths’. Because he knew what that meant. He may not have been there for when Tim had become Joker Jr., but he hadn’t needed to be in order to know just how completely fucked she had to be. He’d heard about the weeks of torture he’d endured before Batman and Batgirl had found it. Seen the way his younger brother still tensed slightly upon seeing Joker or Harley.

Five months. Marinette hadn’t been gone for a few weeks like he had. She’d been gone for five months. If that was what he was like in less than a month, then what about her?

He wanted to wrap her up in his arms and never let go, to never let HER go again, to make sure she’d never come to harm.

But one thing was stopping him.

Because he remembered what Joker Jr. had been created to do. What she must have been forced to do.

And he could see how much she hated it. In the lines in her forehead, in the slump of her shoulders, in the sad smile playing across her lips.

But she was doing it. She felt like she had to do it thanks to whatever she’d endured.

She wasn’t meant for murder. She especially wouldn’t do well with murdering someone she had once cared for. Whatever pieces of her old self that remained would crumble to dust until she would be completely unrecognizable. Completely broken.

He’d failed her, she’d been hurt, and he was going to have to hurt her more in order to keep her from hurting herself.

Tim

You’d think that it would be easy to figure out where she was. After all, these were the biggest Rogues in Gotham. Surely, they couldn’t hide out for long without people noticing them.

But no.

Nothing. Common henchmen were out of jobs, competitors were encroaching on their territories, allies called for help… and yet they refused to make an appearance. It seemed the Rogues had just grabbed Marinette and gone off-world.

A painful memory kept replaying in his mind. Taunting him.

The two of them had been sitting on a park bench on one of their many not-exactly-a-date-but-yeah-it’s-basically-a-date things that they loved to go on.

He remembered her in the Red Robin themed hoodie. The brilliant smile she’d given him. The twinkle in her eyes. The teasing lilt to her voice as she explained why he was her favorite hero:

‘Of course! He’s super smart! I mean, I know Batman is supposed to be the greatest detective of all time or whatever but, considering ages and experience, I think that Red Robin is probably going to have him beat in… I don’t know, a few years?’

She’d been laying it on thick, he knew, she’d been aware of his identity by then and was doing it to fluster him… but he could tell she wasn’t lying. Even if that was more blunt than she tended to be, it was still what she really thought of him.

The memory used to make him blush. Now, it hurt.

He downed his third cup of coffee at the hour, eyes locked on the screen in front of him. There had to be SOMETHING. There was always something.

And, yet, there wasn’t. The place she’d been taken had clearly been prepped for her kidnapping. There was hardly any blood anywhere outside of a bit on the wall where she must have hit it, someone must have set up a tarp or something. The only things they could find were the broken pieces of her comm and two ears. Forensics confirmed they were hers; the earrings they normally bore were missing, but they could hardly care about that when the first -- and likely tamest -- thing they’d done was cut off her ears.

That was it. There were footprints, sure, but they got lost in the millions of footprints on the streets of Gotham.

He threw his empty mug across the cave, but when it splintered on the ground he didn’t feel any better. It didn’t help him find her. 

~

The moment his eyes landed on her, he knew.

He could recognize that look anywhere. Bleached-white skin, cherry-red lips… her usual pigtails had been raised in an imitation of Harley’s signature look...

Just like Tim had been Joker Jr., she was now Harley Jr.

Part of him wanted to assure her that she would be fine, that he was living proof that she would be okay again eventually. The other part knew that it was a lie, that she, just like him, would likely never be fully ‘okay’ ever again.

He blinked away the tears threatening to spill over.

He should not have allowed Dick to make him sleep, should have widened the scope of his search, he should have simply done so much more than he had.

No mystery was completely unsolvable. He had to have missed something.

He’d failed her, and now she was paying the price for his shortcomings.

Damian

Mother had taught him that relationships were a liability. They made you weak. They made you lose.

Father and Richard had taught him that relationships were tricky, but they were worth having.

But, if relationships were worth having, why did they cause him so much pain?

First Father had died. Then Richard had ‘died’.

Those had been temporary, at least. He had started to have difficulty feeling sad when people died. There had been three deaths in the family since he’d joined including his own, and they always came back within a few months. It had started to feel like the Wayne family was untouchable.

Then Alfred had been killed brutally by Bane. Even now, years later, he had yet to make a miraculous reappearance.

So, no, they weren’t untouchable.

They were assuming she was alive, that the Rogues were keeping her around for some big thing. But, as time stretched on with no progress or proof that she was even alive, he started to lose hope. Why were they so quiet? What were they planning? Had those plans gone awry? The Rogues could never match him on impulse control, so something might have happened…

He told himself it didn’t matter if she was alright or not. He knew it was a lie.

Despite their rocky start, he’d found himself attaching to her far faster than he should have. He was regretting it now. Maybe he should have put a distance between them, maybe then this wouldn’t have hurt so much.

It didn’t help that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about her. It was the little things that seemed to hurt the most. The smell of coffee or baked goods, the place where she’d scratched her initials into a chair to claim it as hers, even the color red...

It was making it hard, if he were to be honest, to fight properly. He was constantly distracted. His mother had been right, his attachment to her was making him weak.

Not to mention the ring on his finger... He couldn’t bring himself to transform, not without his partner. Part of him wanted to tear it off his finger, to toss it off a pier and get rid of the constant reminder that she was gone, but he couldn’t.

It was all he had left of her, after all.

~

“Is that really you?”

“Maybe.”

No. The answer was no. He could see it in her eyes. Whoever was in front of them, they weren’t Marinette anymore. Not really.

“You’re pale.”

“Yeah. Lack of sunlight and chemical baths tend to do that.”

He clenched his fists tightly. The ring dug into his skin, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

After all, he wasn’t stupid. He was aware of what had happened to Drake during his tenure as Robin. He knew what he’d been forced to do, and he was sure she was there to finish the job.

He readied himself for a fight.

He’d failed her, yes, but he couldn’t afford to lose another person.

[astrovian]

the official ranking of RA photoshoot outfits (pt. 1)

as @dykethorin​ said when I first proposed doing this particular ranking,  “Some real Decisions™️ were made” with these shoots y’all

all photoshoot outfits (for part one) under the cut

the official ranking of Daniel Miller outfits here

the official ranking of Adam Price outfits here

the official ranking of Claude Becker outfits here

guys, I’m crying with laughter

hey quick question: what the fuck was this photoshoot??? (and also I need current RA in these poses)

it’s real nice to see a fun, loosey-goosey RA (before he established himself in the broody-character archetype) but there are so many questionable fashion choices here

when I started this list I had two options:

1)     allow some leeway to the older photoshoots because, let’s be real, the early 2000s were an atrocious time for fashion that a lot of us would most rather forget we participated in

2)     judge them by today’s standards, which is harsh but some of these outfits deserve it

naturally, I chose option #2

It’s so hard to even pick where to start. the too-loose pants? the ill-fitting suit jacket? The untucked dress shirt that is for some god-forsaken reason undone in two separate directions??

I have chosen one thing that sums the outfit up as a whole: what monster decided to put the shirt collar over the suit jacket????

the jazz hands scream “hey I’m a FUN guy” but the suit screams “I’m the yo-pro asshole at the office who is so unreliable you’re pretty sure some nepotism must surely have had an influence during the hiring process”

I originally said ‘I guess we should be glad there’s no surfer necklace’ but then I had the horrifying realisation that it’s a 50/50 shot as to whether that would improve this outfit or make it worse. and you know when there’s even slimmest chance a surfer necklace could improve an outfit somehow that it’s time to take a good hard look at yourself

1/10 just because this photoshoot made me genuinely laugh out loud

wait I’m sorry, what-

how on god’s green earth is this the same photoshoot (?) as guys, I’m crying with laughter????

the great thing about these lists is that you are getting my genuine reactions as I progress down the images. I had no idea this was the same photoshoot (?) until approximately 10 seconds after writing guys, I’m crying with laughter

this perfectly encapsulates the duality of man – one moment it’s all goofy jazz hands and the next it’s a hunk-of-the-week moment

this man and guys, I’m crying with laughter are the equivalent of looking at pictures of yourself in high school vs. in your 20s/30s/at your prime. the whiplash is insane

and why is he in front of barred windows?? it appears they were afraid of what would happen if this hunk escaped into the general population

I still can’t believe they kept the collar over the suit jacket though

I’m so conflicted guys, the urge to numerically rank this terrible outfit is strong but uh… as per usual shirtless ones aren’t fair/10

revenge of the killer surfer necklace

do you ever look back at a specific moment in time and are so thankful that someone took one tiny action? one small thing they did in the heat of the moment that probably seemed innocuous at the time but had far-reaching consequences? for example, it might something as simple as deciding to take a umbrella on a bright sunny day only for it to be extremely useful on the way home when the weather turns

this is how I feel about the person who decided RA could leave that top button closed for this shoot

if you squint, you can see the surfer necklace under that top button. and thank god you have to squint

this is such an early 2000s look though. that shirt by itself is fine and would actually look killer with a properly fitted suit nowadays. it’s the shirt dress and loose denim look with makes no sense to me

2/10 for a pretty uninspiring early 2000s outfit

revenge of the uh… 

from the same shoot as revenge of the killer surfer necklace this loses .1 of a mark for adding a jacket, while pretty innocuous, to an already busy outfit

1.9/10

were we really that afraid of legs?

why were we, as a society, so obsessed with loose, ill-fitting pants? why were we so desperate to conceal legs from the general population? what secrets were we trying to hide? I understand the comfort factor on the hand, but on the other did anyone actually have eyes

the sneakers/suit combo I can definitely live with. but those pants (that I’m convinced must be pyjama pants in another life) turns it all into a sloppy, blurry mess

2.7/10

is it a bird? is it a plane? no, it’s… a floating RA?

what is it about photoshoots in the early 2000s where they just make no damn sense. it’s my opinion that the theme/concept of a shoot should not overshadow the subject, and that’s the correct opinion (as well as being the exact opposite as to what’s happening here)

maybe there was a hint or reason as to why floating wizard RA exists in the article that this shoot presumably came with, but I don’t get it. clearly I’m far too literal of a person and need to embrace my inner artist

looks pretty, still weird

moving on the entire point of this post, the outfit, I uh,… oh god

I’m pretty sure this the same (and similar, if not) outfit RA wore in the North & South behind-the-scenes, and how we as a society went from John Thornton’s stiff collar and top hat to this is amazing

maybe we were so obsessed with period dramas back then because it was a nice alternative to indulge our eyes in when we had to face the harsh, cold reality of modern fashion at the time

anyway – trust me, while I am all for a man in a necklace, let’s pray surfer necklaces never come back 2.9/10

I genuinely was looking up “pinstriped jacket jokes” because I couldn’t think of anything off the top of my head but then I realised I don’t need a joke here because pinstriped jackets are a joke all by themselves

I feel like there may be a situation where pinstriped suit jackets might grow on me, but this is not that situation

also I don’t really know where I stand on the belt, but I certainly think I’m leaning towards the ‘why’ part of the scale. if you’re gonna make a belt that prominent in a photoshoot, at least make it a fun belt

3/10

I’m noticing a trend in these photoshoots and it’s these horrific backgrounds

I will admit that the non-patterned suit jacket is going with the jeans a lot better here. but now that my attention isn’t focused on that, all I can see are the dress shoes. WHY DID YOU PUT DRESS SHOES WITH STRAIGHT-LEGGED JEANS???

please someone I am begging you, can we as a society get to tapered jeans already

3.3/10

did RA genuinely ever get put into any clothes that actually fitted him properly at this point in time?

look, I know I’ve been picking on the bootcut jeans & loose attire that plagued us in the early 2000s (or 2006, to be specific to this photoshoot). what can I say, it’s the low-hanging fruit. or loose-hanging, as the case may be

I do appreciate that rich brown leather jacket and that smile. but that’s where it stops. someone take dress shirts and dress shoes away from bootcut denim PLEASE

3.5/10

this is the bad-boy from your hometown in every rom-com ever

as with well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of below, the lower rating is simply because from what we can see, it’s just a plain shirt. however, that dipped v-neck? mm-mmm

look at that smirk. this man knows what he’s doing to us, dammit.

why do you persist in hurting us this way 4/10 

well this in an interesting development that I can’t say I disapprove of

god bless the person who said we need this shirt wet and clinging and only half-soaked

I’m so sad that I have to give this such a low ranking because uh… we’ve established I have a weakness for those biceps

this does also get bonus points for the creativity of “only this portion of your shirt needs to be wet for your close-up” but at the end of the day it is a solitary grey t-shirt even if it is floating in an attractive sea of muscles

4.5/10

the photographer really said ‘who gives a crap about the clothes’, huh?

an interesting shirt! but as much as I love RA’s face, we should be able to see more of the shirt (and the outfit) because uh… it’s hard to make a judgement call on a photoshoot outfit without that

also, it’s just so hard to concentrate on some of these with RA staring into my soul like that

*sigh* 4.6/10

hello sir, are you as kinky as your shirt?

this is one of the few occasions on which I will give the bootleg baggy jeans a pass. interesting choice to go shoeless for all outfits in this shoot – but the way the shirt is all crumpled is annoying me an incessant amount. I am begging you, someone pass this stylist an ironing board PLEASE

4.7/10 for a crinkle-cut RA

all that’s missing is the beer cans

I’m not sure of the short sleeves here. I think with the shirt open as well my brain doesn’t know where to look

HOWEVER, this is an RA from the early 2000s that I can get behind – largely because he’s not drowning in his denim

the nice, plain belt which matches with the shirt? excellent

interesting choice to go with the bare feet – this entire look (and the quality of that concrete floor) screams ‘we’re chilling at a summer party in your parent’s basement in the early 2000s’ if not for one thing – that couch is way too nice looking. am I being too pedantic about this? no. If you’re gonna go for the whole basement party look, you need a couch that’s falling apart and has at least one questionable stain on it

that being said, I would hang out in this man’s basement

it’s a shirtless one so once again, I cannot give a numerical answer/10

I’m not sure if this man is dangerous or is just an idiot

they may have been wanting RA to embrace his inner Daniel Miller here but that is NOT a jacket that should have its collar popped or if it is, it definitely should not be popped that much. just turn the intensity of that pop down by… at least 35%

this look is telling me to embrace my inner lacy, ruffled collar that men in England used to wear around the 1500 - 1600s. I hate it and refute it with every part of my soul

this is what happens when you embrace your inner Daniel a little bit too much 5.6/10

the return of the leg monster

not much to say about this except once again we are terrified to put RA’s legs into well-fitted pants. what secrets are hiding underneath those voluminous billows? will we ever know?

5.8/10

the one that crushed my hopes and dreams and then spat on my corpse

so I admit it, I got really excited because I thought that this was a leopard print shirt and I was like “this is something I did NOT know that I needed until right now”, even if I would argue that it could have been nice in a little bit of a brighter colour. no matter, I thought it was a nice subtle addition to this plain suit and was just very excited at the prospect of RA rocking leopard print even though I almost always hate leopard print in single every form it comes in

and then. upon zooming. a disappointing paisley. sorry, paisley lovers. I hate it

I would also argue here that the pocket square would have been nice in a plain, bright colour rather than another patterned item thrown into the mix. come on stylists, stop letting me down with your pocket squares

also if there is a point where a suit can be too shiny, I think we’ve found it. I could wax floors with that fabric and I’d rather be thinking about RA’s talent & good looks rather than imagining him being used as a human mop

the hand porn is uh… strong with this one 6/10

the hand porn one

the ring is a nice subtle touch but I can’t decide where I stand on this tie. for me, the checks are just a *wee* tad too small. so small that it I’m scared it will turn into one of those optical illusions with a number in it if I stare at it the tie for too long

the pocket square could also have not tried so hard to blend in with the rest of the suit jacket. give me some colour, baby!

Richard really needs to put his hand down so I can actually concentrate on the clothes 6.5/10

 I’m just dotty for this one (I’m so sorry y’all)

so suave. so shiny. I wanna stroke that fabric so bad, it looks so soft

the dots bring a nice yet understated touch to a monotone outfit and GOOD LORD those thighs

they just had to pose him like this to torture us, I’m convinced. also they call him a “commanding gentleman” in the subtitle which is really just unnecessary to verbalise when he’s sitting like this

Someone put me in a rom-com with this man 7.2/10

the modern magician (at least he ain’t floating this time)

I know that the hat should be the focus of this shoot but I can’t get over those shoes

tangentially related, I have never understood why they make men’s dress shoes so excessively long and pointed. these certainly aren’t a good example of this but uh… I don’t understand why men’s dress shoes are clown shoes

I think part of what’s throwing me off is the sockless look. normally I can handle (and even love) it with some shoes but there’s something about the hem of those jeans and those shoes that turn them into slippers when worn sockless

I love the two-tone scarf but what really excites me is the plaid shirt that we can barely see. I’m eternally sad that they had RA hid it in this pose. and also, come one. you could’ve at least gotten a chair with an actual back to it. that can’t be good for his back at all

the one bonus of this outfit is the hat because when do we ever get RA in hats?? and hats that aren’t baseball caps?? a nice, rare touch. but also one which hides most of that face so…

can we talk about the fact that my gut tells me those jean cuffs have been deliberately turned up at the front and all I want in life is to reach into this image and flip them down 7.5/10

*pterodactyl noises*

holy macaroni. that demin shirt. and this shirt’s even a nice lighter denim colour??? and the v-neck?? SIR

I know he’s worn some faux-denim shirts in the last few years (see: Uncle Vanya rehearsal pics) but as outerwear? knocked it out of the park in this one

also I know this is a shirt not a jacket, but this shirt made me think about how I never realised how much I needed RA in jean jackets until today

It could be argued that a nice crew neck cut would work slightly better than the v-neck but that’s really a personal choice

a lovely respite for my weary eyes 7.7/10

a truly, truly blessed image. the sort of image that would bring you endless good luck

I know I’ve given a lot of pants crap on this list but these. these are the ones. these are doing the lord’s work for sure. and god bless the person who decided to shoot from this particular side angle.

and then the shirt?? I’m honestly afraid it may rip if he moves. I could leave or take the tie though. it’s not adding a whole lot to this outfit and I would much rather that shirt be uh… open at the top for a glimpse of uh… well. you know.

this RA outfit laughs in the face of all those early 2000s RA outfits 8.1/10

me running to open my phone every time an RA-related notification pops up

my only sadness is that this shoot was in black & white. we need more action-shot RA shoots!

also the subtle plaid?? *chef’s kiss*

well, I said ‘my only sadness’ but is it also me or are both ends of that tie strangely square? that is throwing me off from an otherwise spectacular photoshoot outfit, I won’t lie

8.5/10 for a man of action

this is what we all like to think we look on the way to work. hate to break it to ya - we don’t

god, that wind-ruffled hair. the rustic look provided by both the suit material & the photo editing. that stare over the top of that coffee mug. the casual ‘I just picked up the paper on my way out this morning’

words fail me

would it be weird if I said I would pay money to be able to run my hands through anyone’s hair that looks as soft and wind-swept as that 8.9/10

the comfiest RA

I love. love. love this outfit, especially the sweater. the pant colour goes extremely well with this one and I’m so glad they didn’t just stick him in jeans. the is the softest, comfiest RA and I love it. this is an RA who you can simultaneously share a beer and takeaway with at home, cuddling up on the sofa while you watch a film, as well as an RA who will take you out to eat fancy pasta at an upscale restaurant.

the choice of sitting on a stool is also great. my only real gripe here is the watch (and even that’s a minor one, really). the watch isn’t THAT bad, but it’s chunky face reminds me slightly of the watches boys in my class would wear in middle school. the watch could be a *wee wee tad* slicker, but really, I’m nitpicking here (and this is the only time I will admit to it)

the more I look at it, the more this becomes one of my fav RA pics. the slight smile. the relaxed pose. the hint of hand porn

weirdly, for some reason this picture gives me the exact same comfy and ‘just chilling out’ feeling as when I hear the song “Kiss Me” by Sixpence None the Richer 9.5/10

[sothatmyocshauntmealittleless]

No time to die - part 1/2

->part 2

author's note: so this is a piece I started writing when I got bored in a family gathering like two years ago, and I rewrote it recently. This is the first part and I haven't finished editing the rest but I estimate that there would be one or two more parts. The story is about two high school friends that meet after five years of having no contact with each other and their confrontation. Also the name is inspired by the song with the same name by Billie Eilish 'cause I was listening to it while writing a part of this and the song really suits the relationship between the characters.

~1800 words

I’m feeling a burning ache in my abdomen, and my mind is full of different scenarios that this could lead to, one worse that the other. What if I call an ambulance? I answer myself within a fraction of a second that it wouldn’t lead to pleasant things though the alternative which is bleeding to death isn’t ideal either. So just when I’ve finally convinced myself to pick up the phone and call an ambulance before I pass out, a name crosses my mind. It’s the best and the worst thing that I can do at the same time, but well sometimes your survival instincts would take over your overthinking abilities, no matter how strong they are. And despite all my hesitation, I know the number by heart.

She picks up the phone after few rings, “Hello?”, I’m a bit thrown off by how her voice is the same but her tone is different from the last time I’ve heard her, “Hi”, my voice shakes and I don’t know if it’s from the injury or hearing her voice again. “Riley? Is that you?”, somehow she could recognize me from just that one word and at least her tone is less formal now. “Yeah it’s me, listen I wanted to ask if you could come here now if you can, but it’s totally fine if you can’t make it.” Maybe it’s the shock of hearing someone from your past, or my shaky voice that she agrees to come without any other questions and I tell her my address in the calmest pace I can.

Until she arrives I spend my time overthinking on how bad of an idea it was to call her, and why would she even bother herself with my problems anymore, like who in their right mind would hurry in the middle of the night to heal someone from their past that they tried so hard to abandon. But careful knocks on the door save me from my thoughts. I open the door and for a moment think that the option of bleeding to death at least could’ve saved me from the awkwardness of this, before I manage to say “Thank you so much for coming, I really didn’t want to trouble you”, she replies “Not that I love getting surprise calls at midnight but what’s the occasion?” and then she takes a look at me with her perfect hazel eyes and sees it, the blood soaking my shirt and says “holy fuck Ri, what did… what happen- it doesn’t matter now”

It takes her only few moments to get into her other sleeve, the doctor she was trained to be, giving orders and analyzing the situation, only stopping once to curse me under her breath that I should’ve told her to bring her medical stuff and that I’m a lucky bastard that she didn’t come totally unprepared. Then her inner doctor takes charge completely. I tell myself maybe outer, you know it’s who she is now, heal first talk later that’s what she does.

“Take your shirt off”, I obey without making a snarky comment because even I can tell it would be inappropriate. I can’t really describe the process of her stitching me up, because I’ve never been a big fan of surgeries to the point I even skip them when they come up in movies, and maybe beside how pain makes everything hazy, I can’t wrap my head around the idea of her hands on me.

When it’s done she gives me some final instructions and tells me to don’t move from where I’m sitting for at least half an hour. Then standing in front of me without taking a step, she looks at her watch and her gaze lingers to the door and I know she’s thinking about leaving, but decides against it, at least for now.

“So are you gonna tell me how this happened?”, she asks gesturing towards my wound that is now stitched and bandaged. I guess I’m too exhausted for anything but the truth so I say “I was working on a case, and it didn’t end well.” She glares at me, “Well I can see that clearly, but how did it turn that way?”, “my client was a small business going to court against a big company, I had some dirty things on them but they weren’t enough proof so I was looking for more and they sent someone to scare me off I think, but um I tried to resist and it escalated quickly and I got a nice killer knife wound.” “It wasn’t fatal,” she says, “What?” I reply a bit shocked, “I said it wasn’t fatal, the knife didn’t go that deep, what? You thought I could fix a fatal cut with couple of stiches?” to that I mumble that I really trust her abilities and she rolls her eyes. I think at this point we’re past the formal greetings and small talks and now that the crisis is over she seems done with my shit so she continues “So you’ve finally fulfilled your dreams and became the woman you’ve always aspired to be, a detective/lawyer hunting down bad guys and giving them what they deserve” she doesn’t even try to hide the bitterness in her voice, and so if we’re going there now, I won’t try to hide it from mine either, “And you’ve became a doctor, a life you have dreamed of from the beginning, never even thinking to be anything else.”

She sighs and drops to the couch in front of me, “So this is the time that you’ve finally decided to talk about it.” It doesn’t sound like a question, more like a statement. Maybe being in pain and exhausted sharpens your edges and makes the things you’ve hidden carefully to snap free because I can’t hold back when I say: “Says the one who just abandoned me overnight and decided to part ways forever without even a heads up.” The thing is I’ve imagined having this conversation so many times in so many different situations, that it actually happening doesn’t feel real, it feels like another one of those fantasies in my head except she is really here now, and my pulse is betraying me by beating so damn fast.

“I didn’t abandon you, If I had you’d still be bleeding.” And a part of me wants to just accept that and move on and embrace her, because I’ve missed her, hell I’ve missed her so much I want to hug her and never let go, and we have a lot to catch up on too, five years worth of memories. Five years that we were no more than outside observers in each other's lives, but the stronger part, the part that’s been hurting ever since wants to have this conversation, needs to have this conversation or else I would never stop imagining it in my head.

“Well maybe our definition of abandonment is a bit different, ‘cause changing your life course and treating me like a stranger and pretending like all our planning and dreaming for future never happened sure as hell fits in mine.”

“I never treated you like a stranger, you were the one who decided to not talk to me and have anything to do with me anymore and cut contact completely”

“Because I couldn’t do it like that anymore, like I was just another one in your new class, as if we didn’t have history, like what we had wasn’t something more. We used to joke about how disconnected we felt from them, not because we hated them because we were different, or at least I thought you were.”

“People change Riley.”

And for a few moments neither of us backfires anything else to the other, and my mind finds time to wonder for the thousandth time why we didn’t even call each other all these years. But well one of the things that made us close at first was how stubborn we were. I remember clearly when there was a debate competition in school and we were a team and crashed the whole thing. Beside our passion for the matter we were unstoppable, to the point that each match ended to the other team being like “dear god just let it go it’s over”, and remembering those days even now in the midst of this makes me a little calmer.

I can’t help but ask, “Was it because I tried to-“ before letting me finish she says “God no, you think I could transfer in a day? And for what? Not everything is about you, or what you do or what you want, I thought five years would be enough time to learn that”, and well I’ve always known that it was a coincidence that those two things happened successively. But deep down I couldn’t shove the idea away that it was all because she wanted to get away from me, that it was my fault and I shouldn’t have done it after all. I know that doubt has led me to be selfish, and to give up on trying to fix it, and to suffer more, and I don’t know how to defend it (or if I even should). Throughout all these years I’ve also imagined getting the answer to this question countless times, and how I’ll finally be at peace if I got this answer, but now I don’t feel relived as much as I wanted to.

“So you thought of me in those years?” I say in a hopeful tone still desperately clenching to this conversation, as if all this could be solved just if we have this talk. “Way to avoid my point right? You haven’t changed a bit, reckless and careless and always holding on to things that don’t matter much to the extent that you nearly got yourself killed,” but she says this in a kinder tone than the previous one, maybe even with a hint of worry in her voice. I finally give up on trying to get this conversation to fix it all, and decide that we’re too tired now, so I reply “I thought you said it wasn’t fatal.” A pause then, “It’s really late, are you going to leave now?” I hope that she can hear the silent ‘stay’ in what I just said. “I don’t think I can get a taxi now, can I? considering the time, and I don’t have the energy to explain all this to someone and wake them to pick me up”, “you can stay if you want?” and for all we’ve been through, I’m relieved when she agrees.

//end of part 1

->part 2