#what we gain from a good bookstore

[lsd-astronaut]

Hello!! I hope you don’t mind me asking but could you do a fluffy Crowley x Demon!reader x Aziraphale fic (or headcanons)??

Maybe something like what it’s like all being in a relationship together?

(Also if it’s not too much to ask can the reader use a cane to walk around? Maybe because of something relating to when they fell and became a demon? If not that’s okay!!!)

First of all, I love you and I could kiss you in the mouth right now. I’VE BEEN SAYING FOR AGES THAT CROWLEY WOULD HAVE CHRONIC PAIN BC OF THE FUCKING FALL. I refuse to believe for one moment that you can fall all the way from Heaven, land on the ground and be all “hey guys i’m fine!”

Aziraphale x Demon!Reader x Crowley

Please like and reblog<3

Warnings: chronic pain, but nothing else, this is just good old fluff

• You were an archangel along with Crowley, with the same obligations in making the cosmos✨ so you both met Aziraphale at the same time

• When Azi told you both that the project was destined to close in a few thousand years, you were the one that proposed to fill a complain to God (and crowley seconded you)

• Cue a war and a Fall later, Crowley and you are in Hell, but in different departments so you don’t see each other much

• In fact, you didn’t see Azi and Crowley for the first time since the Fall until the crucifixion of Jesus

• You stood beside them in silent reverence to this poor soul lost for all of humanity

• “What sort of mother would wish this fate upon her own kin?” Crowley and Azi turned to you with confused expressions (although Crowley gained a lot of respect for that comment hehe)

• After some idle conversation, and Crowley convincing Aziraphale not to just smite you right there and then, you three decide to traverse the world

• Centuries pass, and Crowley and you stay around humans (you love their way of living, and he likes children so everyone wins)

• You like to read everything you can get your hands on, to Crowley’s chagrin

• “Now I have two bookworms. What have I done to deserve this?”

• It’s circa the year 1000, in the new continent that these curious people called Vikings have discovered, when Crowley and you decide to experiment a human thing that you had wanted to try for a long time

• Your first kiss is messy, and there are more teeth than anything else; besides Crowley insists it feels slimey

• However, she can’t help but to accept he got a bit aroused by it

• Practice makes better, as they say, and so you do

• Although you spend the most time with Crowley, your relationship with Aziraphale also evolves throughout the years

• The “we have a mutual but I still don’t like you” to “maybe I do care about you” pipeline, if you want

• You take him to all kind of food places and bookstores, and he warms up to you a lot

• Introducing him to classical music was your proudest moment, and also the pettiest as Crowley had crossed you a bit beforehand

• The first time you kiss Aziraphale (or rather, he does), is one time you both were a bit tipsy during a masquerade ball in Paris in the 18th century

• He is a bit unexperienced but he gets the hang out of it really quick

• The three of you “confess” to each other in 1941, after the magic show fiasco

• Crowley looks nonchalant but you can see behind his eyes, he was worried sick he would be separated from both of you

• You make sure to give him extra cuddles that night

• Fast forward to 2008 and you work in Warlock’s house along with Nanny Ashtoreth and Brother Francis, you being Warlock’s governess (like this is the fucking 1800s or smth lmao)

• It is at this time that the two of them notice you limping a bit every day after all chores have been done

• You insist that it is nothing and that you are perfectly capable of walking

• However, Ashtoreth happens to see you during one of your bad flares

• She immediately helps you to sit down on the bed, and looks at you expecting an explanation

• Her no-nonsense glare deters you from making up an excuse so you tell her the whole truth

• When you had fallen, you hadn’t landed correctly and had broken your legs on impact

• Miracles hadn’t done the full job and so you had been forced to endure the pain of the bones repairing themselves not quite right

• You had learned to mask the pain after centuries of practice but some days were just worse than others

• The next day, Ashtoreth gifts you a cane adorned with a snake head with little wings

• You proudly use it every day forward

• After the Second Coming, the three of you go to live in South Downs, finally able to be yourselves together

• There is still so much stuff to learn about everything, but you’re immortal and you are not alone, so why the hurry?

• As the sun sets on the horizon, you lean your head on Aziraphale’s shoulder as he reads one of Jane Austen’s books, and Crowley’s head is on your lap, already snoring softly

• You will be okay

I just wanted to say, I’m sorry if this is not what you asked for exactly as it is my first time writing for these two and I haven’t written either in two years so I feel I’m very rusty. I forgot ab the chronic pain until almost at the end, and I talk more about the history of you relationship than the actual relationship in itself lmao

Still, I hope you like it!

[ijustmissyouraccenths]

Chocolate Hearts

CW: Smut

Word count: 4,541

Growing up in a small town was never easy. The days appeared to drag on with gloomy skies and bleak summers filling the calendar. Rain and storms consumed the days, leaving Stella feeling trapped inside her own home, binge-watching Netflix to pass the time. Despite these dreary conditions and the small town gossip that cause her to suffocate, Stella found solace in two things: reading novels at the quaint local bookstore and pursuing her passion for photography.

Behind the lens, Stella was a master. She had an eye for capturing beauty in the simplest of subjects. Her clients ranged from families to businesses, and sometimes beloved pets. While most of her projects were fairly small, she had managed to gain a decent following on social media thanks to the artistic and creative nature of her photos.

Then, through pure luck, an opportunity presented itself about an hour away - the chance to photograph Harry Styles at an arena for her portfolio. It would be a stark contrast to her usual work - the bright lights and frantic movements on stage would provide a new challenge for her skills behind the lens. When her sister's boyfriend, who worked security at the venue, offered her this rare opportunity, Stella couldn't turn it down. It was a chance to showcase her talent on a larger scale and potentially open doors for her career as a photographer.

She meticulously packed her gear, carefully selecting the best lenses and camera body for the upcoming task. Her vintage-style paperboy camera bag was neatly filled with all the necessary equipment, ensuring that she would be fully prepared for whatever lay ahead. Taking a moment to center herself, she sat down and focused on her breathing, a technique her therapist had taught her for moments when she needed to relax and gather her thoughts.

With a deep breath, she swiped the keys off of the counter and bid farewell to her cat before heading out to her car. While she wouldn't necessarily classify herself as a fan of Harry Styles, she found him charming and had enjoyed his performances in the few movies he had been in. There was something about his energy that drew her in. She couldn't deny that she had a One Direction phase in high school, so there was a small part of Stella that felt giddy at the thought of seeing him in person. She always thought her was attracitve and even had a little crush on him. 

The drive to the arena was smooth, but finding parking proved to be a nightmare. Eventually, she made it inside and checked in, grabbing her pass before being escorted to where she would be shooting. In her mind, she imagined that she would have a decent view of the stage, but when the security guard handed her off to Harry's manager who then led her down winding hallways backstage, it became clear that she would not just be photographing the show - she would have access to something much more intimate and behind-the-scenes.

The manager wheeled around to face Stella, his slicked-back hair catching the light as he spoke. "I hope you're okay with this," he said, over the hustle and bustle of the backstage preparations for Harry Styles' show. "Originally we  needed someone for the show, but our usual photographer is out sick and we need some content for Instagram."

Stella nodded, trying to suppress her nerves. She had been ecstatic when she was offered the opportunity to shoot photos of one of the worlds biggest musicians, but now that it was actually happening, she was feeling a bit overwhelmed. Her palms were getting clammy as she mentally went through her checklist, making sure she had everything ready to go.

"I'm good," she replied, flashing a quick smile at Harry's manager. "I'm all set up and ready whenever you guys are."

But what Stella wasn't prepared for was walking into Harry's dressing room and seeing him shirtless, with his stylist carefully crafting his iconic hairstyle. She couldn't help but feel a flutter in her chest as she took in his toned tattooed torso and muscular arms. This wasn't how she imagined meeting her high school celebrity crush.

Harry turned around from the chair and greeted her with a warm smile. "You must be Stella," he said as he walked towards her with open arms.

Stella couldn't believe she was actually hugging Harry Styles. She took in his scent, the strong muscles of his back pressing against her as they embraced, and she couldn't help but feel herself falling deeply in love with him. It was like a bug had bitten her and infected her with an infatuation for the charming and talented musician.

"I am," Stella finally managed to say, trying not to let on how starstruck she was. "Thank you so much for allowing me to come today. I've never really done anything like this before, it feels like such a big opportunity."

Harry chuckled and then ran a hand through his hair, causing it to fall in soft waves around his face. "No worries, love," he replied with a playful wink. "We're happy to have you here. And I was thinking we could mix things up a bit for the photoshoot. Let's do some portraits but also some candid shots of me getting ready, organizing my clothes, that sort of thing."

Stella's eyes sparkled with excitement at the idea. She couldn't believe she was going to be taking intimate behind-the-scenes shots of Harry Styles. This was definitely going to be the highlight of her photography career so far.

As Stella clicked away with her camera, capturing every moment of Harry getting ready, she couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of confidence around him. It was as if his vibrant energy was contagious and had spread throughout her body, lifting her spirits in its wake. She found herself contorting into unusual positions to get the perfect shot, lost in the thrill of documenting this experience.

"So Stella, we have a whole week off and I want to explore. I never get out to this area of the US. What's there to do around here?" Harry's deep, smooth voice sent shivers down her spine.

Stella paused for a moment, caught off guard by this unexpected conversation. "I um," she stuttered, "I actually live in a small town about an hour north of here. I'm not too familiar with the area."

Harry nodded, his curiosity piqued. "Is it cool?" he asked, his tone laced with genuine interest.

Stella shrugged, "It's alright. There are some nice bakeries and vegan restaurants. I have my studio there. It's a bit hipster but quiet and charming. Oh, and there's a really cool vinyl store. And hey, if you need a place to crash, I have a guest room." She added the last part jokingly, assuming that a famous superstar like Harry Styles would be staying in a luxurious penthouse suite.

"Let's do it," Harry declared with enthusiasm, catching Stella off guard once again.

"Really?" she gasped in disbelief.

Harry simply nodded and explained, "I've been wanting to escape to a smaller town where I can blend in and do normal things without being recognized. Sounds perfect."

Stella couldn't believe her luck as the show went on and eventually came to an end. The plan was for her to go home and wait for Harry while he finished up his final performance and got cleaned up before heading over to her place. She inwardly thanked herself for deep cleaning her house the day before, she was prepared to have everything to be perfect for Harry's stay.

"I-I didn't think you'd actually want to come," Stella admitted as they said their goodbyes.

Harry chuckled and replied, "Isn't it a bit crazy?"

And with that, their unconventional journey began.

.

Stella sat at home, anxiously awaiting Harry's arrival. She had cleaned her small apartment, lit a few candles, and put on a record to set the mood. With a quick glance at the clock, she grabbed a bottle of wine and poured herself a glass to calm her nerves.

As she took a sip, her doorbell rang, causing her cat to scurry off in alarm. Stella placed her glass down and smoothed out her outfit before opening the door. The crisp fall air rushed in, bringing with it the tantalizing scent of Harry's cologne - a masculine blend of woodsy and spicy notes that never failed to drive her wild.

"Welcome to my humble abode," she greeted him with a shrug, trying to play it cool. He hugged her tightly before setting his bag down and taking off his shoes.

"It's lovely," he remarked as he looked around her eclectic apartment filled with vintage knick-knacks and furniture straight out of the 70s. Stella blushed with pride - she may not be much of a decorator, but this was her personal style and Harry seemed to appreciate it.

"I don't think there are many places open for dinner right now, but we can order takeout if you'd like. I know it's late," Stella suggested.

"Oh, that would be great. I'm actually quite hungry," Harry admitted with a sheepish grin.

Stella returned his smile and poured him a glass of wine.

"For you," she said softly as she handed it over.

Together, they sat on her cozy couch, looking through takeout menus. Their options were limited, so they settled on a 24-hour Korean BBQ place that offered delivery services.

"You know," Stella began as they waited for their food to arrive, "I was somewhat surprised when you agreed to come over tonight. You don't even know me."

Harry simply shrugged in response.

"You seemed nice and warm. Sometimes, you have to take a chance in order to truly live," he said with a hint of wisdom in his tone. "I'm constantly surrounded by strangers in my line of work, always staying in hotels. I thought, why not spend some time with a stranger who offers a sense of home? That sounded nice right about now."

Stella placed a comforting hand on his knee and rubbed lightly with her thumb.

"Well, if I can provide that sense of home, even for  a little while, then I will." As they sat on the couch, making small talk and waiting for their food, Stella couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected connection she had made with Harry.

Stella and Harry’s conversation was soon interrupted by food arriving. The two sat in silence and then cleaned up in silence. The energy of the room could only be described as tired. Stella took Harry down the hall and showed him the bathroom and then took him to the room he would be staying in.

They hugged goodnight and said their goodbyes before Stella finished turning off the lights and heading to bed herself. She wondered how she would sleep. She felt guilty for  trying to fall asleep. A part of her felt like she had to stay on duty and protect the treasure that was in the room over. When in reality, if someone broke in she would be the first to go.

The next morning dawned, and as her drowsy eyes gradually cleared, Stella almost forgot that Harry was in the room next to hers. A warm, sweet scent wafted through the air, reminding her of home. Slowly, she got out of bed and walked over to her vanity, taking a moment to fix her disheveled appearance before stepping into the living room.

There stood Harry in the kitchen, his back turned to her as he focused on cooking. He must have heard her footsteps because he turned around with a smile.

"Got up early. Went on a run, found a store and decided to cook for ya," he said over his shoulder, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Stella's heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

"Oh Harry! You could've woken me up," she exclaimed, feeling guilty for not helping him with breakfast.

But he just shook his head, his light curls bouncing slightly with the movement.

"It was nice. To  go out and not be known," he shared with her.

Stella looked at him with loving eyes, marveling at how this famous celebrity could find solace in anonymity.

"I can only imagine. I don't know how you do it all the time. No privacy. Going on a date and having the world see it even if it sucked. I can't imagine, and I’ve been on some pretty bad dates.” she confessed to Harry, unable to hide her admiration.

He laughed lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

"Well. Why don't I take you out on not a bad date?" he suggested casually, but Stella's heart nearly stopped in her chest at his words. She couldn't believe it - was Harry asking her out on a date?

"If you're sure," she managed to say, trying to keep her cool.

He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close and giving her a warm hug.

"It wasn't just luck, Stella. I found your Instagram a while ago. The small town pics, the cat, the photography. I know your sister's boyfriend and I knew I had to meet you. I was practically drawn to you," he confessed, sending shivers down Stella's spine.

She couldn't believe it - this famous, talented, and incredibly attractive man had an interest in her. With a newfound sense of confidence and excitement, Stella accepted his invitation for a date, eager to see where this unexpected connection would lead them.

Despite being unfamiliar with the town, Harry managed to find a quaint restaurant and drove Stella there in his rental car. For once, he felt a sense of normalcy - the feeling of dating someone without the baggage of fame and paparazzi constantly hounding them. The drive was short, but it gave him time to take in the picturesque scenery of the small town.

As they arrived at the restaurant, Stella's face lit up with recognition. She had been here many times before, and it was clear that she loved this place. The staff greeted her by name as they walked in, and Harry couldn't help but tease her about being the "famous" one.

"It's just a small town," she laughed, "everyone knows everyone."

Over dinner, Harry couldn't shake off the feeling that he already knew Stella, or perhaps had known her in another lifetime. He found himself wanting to do simple things like eating Korean barbecue in bed or buying silly chocolate hearts from CVS - anything to make her smile.

Stella too, felt an instant connection with Harry. Just yesterday she didn't  remember his name, now she would drop everything and run away with him if he asked. She wanted him in every way possible.

Their meal ended too quickly, but the silence between them was comfortable and filled with unspoken feelings. After dinner, Harry suggested going out and doing something adventurous, but Stella simply wanted to be home - home with him and a bottle of wine. Much to his surprise, Harry was completely content with that plan.

He drove her back to her house like he had lived in that town his whole life. As they entered her place, Stella kicked off her shoes and made a beeline for the kitchen where she grabbed a bottle of wine. She poured two glasses and handed one to Harry as she fumbled with setting up the record player.

Taking a few sips of wine to calm her nerves, Stella couldn't find the right record to play and let out a frustrated sigh then finished her glass by chugging it. In that moment, Harry realized that he would do anything to make her happy, even if it meant spending the night listening to terrible music.

Stella felt him behind her as he placed a hand on the back of her shoulders. Stella felt the heat of his body, an angelic presence stirring her senses from behind. His touch was electric on the back of her shoulders, sending shivers down her spine. She turned around to face him, their faces just inches apart. The scent of his cologne filled her nostrils - masculine and intoxicating.

Wordlessly, she poured and handed him another glass of wine. Their fingers brushed against each other in the transfer, sparking a flame that coursed through their linked bodies.

"Your choice," she said with a teasing smile, gesturing to the records spread out on the table. He picked up one at random – some old jazz record she'd forgotten about. Harry placed it on the turntable and the sultry sway of a saxophone began to fill the room.

He moved closer to her then, invading her personal space as if he had every right to do so. Harrys hands found their way to her waist, pulling her flush against him. Stella gasped at the feel of his firm body pressing into hers.

“Is this okay?” he murmured into her ear. His breath tickled her skin and made her giggle.

“More than okay,” Stella replied. Her voice was husky, inviting.

His lips trailed kisses from her earlobe down towards her neck, stoking the fire that was quickly building between them. She clutched onto his hair for dear life as pleasure washed over her in waves.

As Harry's hands slipped under Stella's blouse, he gently brushed his fingertips along the small of her back before pressing softly against her bare skin. His touch was electric, sending shivers down her spine as she leaned into him, her heart pounding in anticipation. His other hand slid around to her waist before moving slowly downwards, tracing the lines of her hip and finally reaching the edge of her silk panties. Stella gasped, feeling a rush of heat spreading through her core at his touch.

"Harry," she whispered, unable to form complete thoughts as he began to explore between her legs, teasing and stroking with expert fingers. She leaned into him, letting out soft moans that were quickly drowned out by the music playing in the background. His warm breath caressed her neck, sending shivers down her spine as he nibbled lightly on the soft skin there.

In response, Stella reached up to run her fingers through his hair, loving the feel of it between her fingertips as he continued to tease her. The way he touched her was unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - it was like he knew exactly what she needed, right from the start. With each gentle caress and sigh, she felt herself growing hotter and wetter under his touch.

His fingers found their way inside and she couldn't contain a moan as he teased into places that made every nerve ending light up like fireworks going off in slow motion. He moved with an almost practiced ease that left her panting for more; it was clear that Harry knew exactly what he was doing and it felt so good -  better than anything she could have ever imagined. She couldn't help but wrap one leg around him in anticipation.

The music flowed around them, the silky jazz notes wrapping them up in a sensual embrace as Harry's fingers danced with hers, his hands exploring every curve and contour of her body.His touch was firm yet gentle, eliciting soft moans from Stella. 

As his mouth neared hers, she parted her lips, eager for his kiss. Their lips met in a tender yet passionate embrace that left them both breathless. He tasted like wine and desire, his tongue dancing with hers playfully before delving deeper into her mouth. They broke apart for air, panting heavily as Harry trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone while continuing to stroke her inner thighs.

 Stella continued to run her fingers through his hair, tangling herself up in those curls that smelled of sandalwood and sex appeal. The scent alone made her dizzy with lust; she needed more of him than just this small taste. The warmth from his body seeped into hers as they swayed together to the music—a slow song that matched their slow dance of seduction. She could feel his hardness pressing against her leg; it wasn't long before she grew wetter than ever from anticipation of what was to come next.

Harry leaned back slightly to look at Stella who looked back at him longingly. Her eyes were filled with desire, her pupils dilated from the alcohol and passion. He took a step back to remove his shirt, revealing toned abs and muscles that rippled under his tattooed skin. His hair fell onto his forehead in soft waves, framing his face as he reached for the button of his jeans. With a low growl of need, he undid the button and slid down the zipper before pushing the denim down to rest on his hips.

Stella watched hungrily as Harry stepped out of his pants and kicked them off to the side, revealing a large erection that strained against his boxers. She licked her lips involuntarily at the sight of him, feeling her own arousal growing stronger by the second.

The jazz music continued softly in the background, creating an intimate ambiance between them as they moved closer together once more. Their bodies swaying slowly as if in tune with the melody. Harry pressed himself against Stella's Core invitingly; she could feel how hard he was through their thin fabric separating them.

His tongue traced her earlobe gently before nibbling playfully at it causing shivers to run up her spine. He whispered huskily into her ear, "I want you.” His accent driving her crazy.

She moaned softly in response as he trailed kisses down her neck and collarbone, his warm breath sending shockwaves through her body. His hands roamed over her curves possessively.

"Harry," she breathed out wanting more than just teasing now; needing completion beneath this hands.

The sight of his arousal straining against his boxers made her lick her lips in anticipation. He was thick and hard, and she could see a bead of pre-cum glistening at the tip. "Oh god," Stella moaned quietly under her breath.

Harry swiftly discarded his boxers, revealing his  length fully to her gaze. Her eyes widened slightly at his size, but there was no fear in her eyes – only an eager curiosity as she reached out to touch him. Her small hand wrapped around him firmly, making him groan in pleasure.

With one swift move he pushed her onto the carpeted floor, pulled off her panties, and spread her thighs wide apart. She looked up at him from beneath heavy lashes, anticipation brewing like a storm within those sultry depths. His fingers found their way to her slick heat, nudging open sensitive folds to gain access to the secrets hidden within.

His finger dipped within the wetness, coating himself in it before retreating to rub circles around the swollen bud nestled above. A bolt of pleasure shot through Stella's body and she writhed beneath him; gasps spilling freely from her parted lips. "Fuck...Harry..."

He continued to tease gently at first, before picking up speed - each stroke sending waves of pleasure coursing through her body as he taunted that sweet spot relentlessly. His other hand kneaded and tweaked her breasts, heightening the pleasure. Stella's back arched off the floor as he brought her closer and closer to that edge.

"Harry... I..." she stammered out breathlessly. Her hands grasped at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as an orgasm ripped through her body.

Her screams of pleasure echoed in the dimly lit room as Harry continued to stroke her through her orgasm, drawing out the waves of pleasure until she was left panting and spent beneath him.

Slowly, he nudged her legs further apart with his knee before guiding his hardness to her entrance. She whimpered slightly at the feel of him pressing against her but nonetheless lifted her hips to meet him halfway.

He filled her slowly; each inch driving a gasp from both of them until he was fully embedded within her. Their bodies were connected now - not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually too. Their movements soon found a rhythm; slow and deep thrusts that had her wrapping her legs around his waist to pull him deeper.

His pace gradually increased as they both chased their release; Stella's nails leaving trails down his back as she clung onto him. It wasn't long before she felt another rise in pleasure peaking; this one even more intense than the last. "Harry...I'm going to..."

With one final deep thrust, she screamed his name as pleasure fell over her once again; Harry following suit shortly after with a groan of his own. He collapsed on top of her panting heavily; their sweaty bodies entwined in bliss.

Their shared connection was undeniable. Passionate yet tender, their lovemaking was something far beyond mere physical satisfaction. And so their story began, Harry fell in love with the small town over the week and vowed to visit in when his time was free.

-

As the week in the small town came to an end, Harry couldn't help but feel a sense of sadness. He had never expected to find such a powerful connection with someone in such an unexpected place. But as he looked at her sleeping form next to him, he knew that this was just the beginning of something special.

He gently brushed her hair out of her face and placed a soft kiss on her forehead. She stirred slightly and opened her eyes, a smile spreading across her face when she saw Harry watching her.

"Good morning," she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.

"Morning," Harry replied, unable to keep the smile off his face as he leaned in for another kiss.

They spent their last day together exploring the town, holding hands and stealing kisses whenever they could. They were both reluctant to say goodbye, but they knew it was only temporary. They had promised to stay in touch and make plans for future visits.

As they stood at the airport saying their farewells, Harry made a promise to himself – he would come back here whenever he could. This small town had captured his heart in more ways than one.

In the weeks that followed, they kept their promise and stayed connected through phone calls and messages. And when Harry's schedule allowed it, he would make the trip back to that small town, always finding new adventures and creating more memories with her by his side.

His bandmates noticed a change in him – he seemed happier, more at peace. And when they asked about it, all Harry could do was smile and tell them about this magical place that had become his sanctuary.

But as much as he loved visiting this small town and spending time with her, Harry knew that eventually their paths would diverge once again. His music career took him all over the world and she was rooted in this quaint little town. With that knowledge looming over them, they cherished every moment they had together. And in those moments, their love only grew stronger.

[powderblueblood]

NO SLEEP TILL - a runaway eddie au

summary sticking around town after the queen of hawkins high dies in your trailer is a fool's game. anyone could tell you that. but eddie munson's making a point of it; shaving off the excess. a canon divergent season 4 runaway eddie au with elements from flight of icarus. word count 1.1k warnings none, only that this is mostly an experiment.

Can you shut up and tell the story already?

It starts with a shedding. 

A snip, snip, snip and all recognition falling away under the dinge of a green-lit gas station bathroom. The acrid smell of piss burns through the stall, the kind that’s baked in and gets curdled by the heat. No bleach can cut through it. The ghosts of more’n three shakes and you’re playin’ with yourself rise when it gets above a certain temperature.

And it’s hot. Uncharacteristically so, for spring break. 

Snip. The last curling rat tail falls to the floor and he releases his breath. He hadn’t even realized he’d been holding it. 

Looking at himself, shorn, his eyes water. Not from the smell. 

He cranes his neck to the left, to the right. Tufts of hair stick up from his skull like he’s just shoved a fork into a socket. 

He wishes he’d thought of that instead. But.

A sound chokes up the column of his throat as he grips the sink’s edge, ringed fingers slipping on grime. He allows himself to the count of ten. 

‘To the count of ten, and then we dust ourselves off and get back at ‘em!’ His mother’s voice. Embedded in the recesses of his brain, this high rasp he’s never stopped harkening back to. It’s almost fourteen years since he’s last heard it. ‘There’s always a good reason to keep going.’

True. There’s always a reason to keep going; it doesn’t even have to be good.

He doesn’t have time to get all vitriolic about what’s been snatched from him. Not yet, anyhow. 

He’s still all hot with panic, even though it’s been hours since he left the trailer park. Gained a little clarity since then. 

Not much, but enough to shoplift a pair of scissors.

He tosses the hair in the sink into the maw of the shitcaked cistern and tears open a pack of disposable razors with his teeth. 

—

The red line he draws on the map squiggles up and shoulders out. A straight shot from where he sits across the state of Pennsylvania to New York City, a bullet out the nose of a rifle. He intends to make it there just as fast. 

He couldn't sleep if he wanted to. 

Every time his eyes fall shut, it’s a clear vision of her. Suspended in midair, sneakers hovering above the stained rug of the trailer. The lights flipping out, making him wonder if he wasn’t tripping out. The snap of her jaw to a crude angle, one that it can’t come back from. 

He wasn’t tripping out. He knows what he saw. Her skull impacted on itself. The sound of her tongue squelching as she choked on it. 

Like something was inside her. Tearing her apart.

He knows what he saw.

Doesn’t he?

Eddie groans as his stomach lurches. His hands tighten on the wheel. He can’t afford to spit up any more bile, not tonight. 

No time. No sleep. 

A crumpled envelope sits on the dashboard of the van. 

A letter he never responded to, because it’s easier to forget people when they’re not right there, bumming rides from you. 

A return address in Brooklyn. 

—

The moment the phone rings, she knows something is wrong. It gets yanked up in her gut, some feeling she’s tried to stamp down because she’s a grown up now and she can’t be caught mourning sandbox shit. 

The competitive pace of her life doesn’t allow for it. She doesn’t have room in her schedule for homesickness like that. Can’t cram it in between classes and looking for an internship at a law firm that can overlook her humble beginnings. 

This marks the second year she’s been away from home for spring break. It was harder to fill the gap the first time around, and to talk her grandmother down, but she made good use of being a country mouse in the big city. Found some bars and libraries and bookstores she’s kept as favorites. 

Tried not to think about how she was so bummed out that she was forced to enjoy them alone. And failed. 

She wrote a letter, a long one, in a dinky dyke bar on St Mark’s Place which was all strung up with Christmas lights. She’d obviously flinched when she heard it called a ‘dyke bar’--so open and proud like that. It wasn’t like when people flung the d-word around where she was from. It wasn’t derogatory; just a descriptor. Toothless, in the mouth of a chick with a shorn head that had told her so. Almost friendly. She told her that her name was Tina, too. 

“I knew a Tina,” she’d nervously said, plucking at the label of her beer bottle, “She was captain of the cheerleading squad. At my high school.”

Tina sniffed a laugh. “You’re a long way from home, ain’t ya?”

About a ten hour drive. 

She got an impulse to write after two Mai Tais and another beer and a half. Dug a copy of The Dark Tower out of her backpack and started tearing out the flyleaves.

Tina let her borrow a pen and she scrawled and scrawled away in that half-light, letter becoming more illegible the drunker she got. 

She remembered that she’d written this, in closing–

‘In closing, I think you’re a fucking piece of shit stubborn asshole. A naive moron who’d step on his own uncle’s neck for an opportunity that looked shiny enough. Fuck you, and fuck California, and I can’t believe you’d fucking do this to me after everything and not even call or anything. I think you’re just like your dad. 

If you ever need a place to stay, you can’t come here.

But if you show up, there’s nothing I can do about it, I guess.’

Weeks later, gripping onto a pole on a crowded subway train, she got a chill down the spine that she was sure meant the letter had made it to Indiana. 

He never wrote back. Probably for the better. 

The same chill pulls in her gut when the phone trills at 6:30 in the morning. The phantom umbilical cord. 

She’s up, because she’s become all regimented now. Riding on a scholarship will do that to you. 

She picks up the slippery seashell pink handset so as not to wake her roommates, because they hate her enough already. 

Though, she really nearly doesn’t. Because she’s scared.

Silence on the line.

“What happened?”

“Ronnie…”

“Wayne? What happened?”

“He’s gone.”

Her whole throat constricts, her body fighting against whatever those words mean. Thoughts start running at hyperspeed– absolutely not, there’s no way, no possible way, I would know. I would know. It’s not that. 

“Whaddayou mean, gone?”

“Can’t find him anywhere.” The beat Wayne leaves makes her realize there’s cold sweat icing her brow. “But I found something else. Something bad.”

Not gone as in dead. Gone as in missing.

—

REBLOGS AND COMMENTS KEEP THE FIC ALIVE. lmk if you enjoyed this because i may continue to write it extremely non-linearly! as an exercise in examining friendships, paranoia and hanging out with eddie and ronnie.

[emryliz]

Ikemen villian x Ikemen vampire collaboration of liar foxes and frivolous writers

The translation can be wrong

This is the memory a little before I met Kate.

London, the capital of the UK, governed by Queen Victoria.

In this country, there is a crown, which is a loud life downstairs.

(That is us)

Last night was a bad night.

There is no protection subject under the mission.He was killed and was thrown away in garbage.

Of course, the crime is in the hand of the crown.

Therefore, it was erased from this world.

(... It's annoying now, it's sunny today)

I got a rest for a long time and hang around the city without any good.

(... Oh, this feeling again)

Walking through a lively city can be made into a feeling that only you are separated from the world.

Depending on the crown mission, you may have to take this way.

I have died more than once or twice while being cursed with curse words.

(I got used to it for that)

(I have no regrets on the road I chose)

It's not a lie.

I abandoned my dream for a "purpose".I abandoned my calm life and became a member of the crown.

I just decided to walk in the dark.

But-

(Sometimes the darkness is too dark,I'm going to lose sight of myself)

I went to a familiar bookstore to deceive something.

This bookstore, which faces the passage in London, is quiet and reluctant.

(Oh, this book ... a new book came out)

(Hmm? This looks interesting too)

???:"Yo, brother, do you like books?"

Harrison:"...?"

Looking at the person who heard the voice, it was in front of the bookshelf.There was a man who was there.

The man's face is hidden in the shadow of the bookshelf and can only see the bright hair of London Blue.

London Blue Hair -colored Man:"I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I was very seriously looking for a book, so I'm curious."

"So, do you like books?"

(What is this guy? Even though we met for the first time, he's getting really excited...)

I stare at the back of the man who is crouching.

(He's a weird guy that makes you mad, but...)

(This guy has a strange and unpleasant smell of lies that other people don't have)

That's why I ended up answering the question out of spite.

Harrison:“…I think you like books.”

Curse, I gained the ability to see the lies of others.

The world I saw with my eyes with a lie was just more lies than I expected.

Lies to commit people, lies to sell, betrayal lies, self preservation,i was painted on such a lie, and I gradually became exhausted.

In such a situation, I suddenly picked up a book that made me feel a little lighter.

I thought the world of novels, which are made up of layers of exquisite lies to entertain people, seemed kind to me.

Harrison:"That seemed like a good lie to me."

"Everyone who writes novels is a liar, i think."

``But, I quite like that lie.That’s it.”

london blue colored man:"Yes, that's good."

"Certainly, as you say, the writer is just a liar."

"But, I want to think that the lie is ... kind/gentle."

That’s what I want to think.”

Harrison: "....?"

London blue haired man: ``For those of you, yes! This book is super highly recommended.”

``Good-looking, sexy, and popular with girls.It’s like a book written by a popular author.”

"Oh, just be careful because the detective who appears in the work is a bad guy."

Harrison: "Huh? Hey, wait a little ..."

I was forced to hold a book and looked at the cover.

Harrison: " "Sherlock Holmes"? "

"Hey, this is..."

(That guy was ...?)

The moment I took my eyes off him, the man was gone.

It's like a summer bar.

When I returned to Crown Castle, Victor and Will were elegantly drinking wine.

William: "Welcome back, Harrison."

Harrison: "Ah. You're both drinking so early.Isn't it rare for you guys to drink at this hour?"

Victor: "I was considering the incident that has happened in the last few days."

"While tasting a dripping bloody wine,"

Harrison: "…event?"

Victor: "In the vicinity of the Regent Park, It seems that a corpse with a bite on the neck was found. "/"It seems that a corpse with a bite on the neck was found near the region park."

"It's multiple, named"

Victor: "Is there a bite mark in all of the corpse?

The police seem to be calling it the "vampire murder case". "

Harrison:"Vampire is a.... fictitious creature Isn't it? "

William: "It's too early to crush the possibilities with assumptions.

What is it? Life is sometimes something you don't think of. "/

"It's too quick to kill the possibilities with assumptions. Life sometimes happens to be unreasonable."

Harrison:"What do you think of?"

William:"I hear that vampires are creatures that live forever. Yes ..."

"If the greats are actually vampires, do you think they would be optimistic if they were still alive?"

"If Da Vinci and Napoleon are still breathing somewhere in this world."

Harrison: "Don't be the biggest enemy in the crown"

William:"By all means, what you want to ask is"

As usual, sighing to the elegant and pleasant self -righteous king will change the air on the spot.

Victor, a queen assistant, opened his lips with one blink.

Victor: "So, Harrison. From His Majesty to you It's a request for a mission. "

The darkness spreads again, and the footsteps trying to swallow me echo.

Still, I can't stop here and not go.

(Until the day to achieve × ×)

Harrison: "Oh, good. But just ask the requirements."

"I have a book I want to read."

While laughing a lot, I re -held a book recommended by a man like a doubt.

It has become dirty, with this hand.

i try to put the picture in order but it doesn't go the way i want it too

[musings-of-a-rose]

For the "Leave the first sentence of a fic in my askbox" game:

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him.

The Meaning of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader

Word Count: 1026

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

→Tell Tumblr this should be shared with others by reblogging! That's what the algorithm loves (it's how it works here. I don't make the rules!)

**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Life comes with expectations. Everyone told me to go to college, get a degree, find a nice man, get married, start a family, grow old together. I intended to do just that, sort of floating through life, not unhappy but not entirely happy either. Like I hadn’t found the exact fit. 

Then I met Jeremy and my life became brighter. We met my senior year of college, literally bumping into each other in the bookstore on campus. He’d spilled coffee all down my front and I laughed, as I’d had to change my shirt earlier that day for doing the exact same thing to myself. He was studying business, his days spent mostly in the library with his nose buried in books or online, trying to keep up with the latest business trends. I was majoring in elementary education with a minor in creative writing, so I definitely spent my fair share in the library too. 

Wherever we went, we had a good time. Jeremy was respectful and kind to me, always making sure I ate, knowing that often I’d forget to. We were together about 6 months before confessing our love for one another, and at a year, he asked me to move in with him. We were well on our way to finishing the typical expectations. Everyone kept asking me if he’d popped the question or when he was going to put a ring on it. We talked about marriage and it was something we were both interested in. It was the normal flow of life.

What no one expected was for me to suddenly gain powers, become what people call an inhuman. 

It happened randomly one day. I was out for a run when suddenly, I tripped. But instead of slamming my palms into the ground, it cracked beneath me, ripples of concrete fanning out from where my palms hovered above the ground. I scrambled back and landed on my ass, scooting backwards from the partially sunken sidewalk. My breath shaking, I look at my hands - not a mark on them. It was probably nothing. A coincidence. But what else could do this?

I called Jeremy as I walked home quickly, asking him what could have caused the sidewalk to crack like that. Of course he was quick to tell me to sue the county, that the sidewalk was dangerous and could’ve seriously injured me. That was just the way he was.

I got home and took a shower, letting the hot water cascade over my shoulders, willing them to relax as I looked down at my palms again. I was so focused on what I was doing, I didn’t hear Jeremy come in. When he touched my shoulder I jumped, my hands coming up to shield myself. But then Jeremy flew back against the door, his back nearly leaving an imprint in the shape of him. 

“I’m so sorry!” I started to cry, looking down at my palms and back at Jeremy. “I don’t know what’s happening to me!”

“Y-you did this?” He choked out, staring at me.

I nod. “I thought the sidewalk was random but this? I don’t…I don’t know what’s happening to me.”

He started to stand up and I took a step towards him, but he threw his hands up, fear flooding his eyes.

“Stay back!”

I stopped. “Jeremy? What..what do you mean?”

His hand scrambles for the door handle, hand scraping against the wood. “Don’t come any closer!”

“Jer..it’s me. I just..I don’t know what’s happening. I need help.” I take another step but he finds the handle and turns it, running out the door but not before he looks at me, fear and anger in his gaze.

“Get away from me, you freak!”

—----

That was 10 years ago. I never saw Jeremy again after that night and I rarely dated, never trusting anyone fully. If Jeremy could be so in love with me and leave me in an instant, how could I ever trust again?

I never went into teaching. No one wanted an inhuman teaching their kids. I did discover more about myself, what it meant to be an inhuman. Someone with powers. But I never trusted anyone. 

Then Clint Barton found me, alone and living in my car. He offered me his hand and told me to come with him, that I would be more than welcome at the Avenger compound. Unfortunately, people there still walked on eggshells around me, never sure if I’d “go off”. Then one day, a firm knock raps on my door and I answer it, breath catching in my throat at the most beautiful, troubled man I’ve ever laid eyes on.

Bucky Barnes, aka The Winter Soldier.

He looked like he was bracing for the worst, for my eyes to go wide and to retreat back into my room. But it was very much the opposite, my curious eyes tracing down his metal arm and landing on the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen.

“Clint told me you needed training?”

“Oh. Uh I guess so?”

“Come on.”

Bucky trained me how to control my powers, using the skills he learned since getting rid of the brainwashing Hydra had put there. He taught me how to use my powers for my own self, using them to protect others. But he also taught me that in my solace, in others fear of me, fear of myself, of my own power, that I was not alone. He had been through the same thing and was still battling it himself. We eventually found ourselves pressed together, my legs and heart opening to accept him, all of him, as he whispered praises and love in my ear, our bodies melting together.

I thought I knew what love was, but then I met him. Bucky was the missing piece of my life that I had been waiting for. He sees me, loves me for me, isn’t afraid of me. And all of that love and adoration is reflected back at him through my eyes. I can’t imagine my life without him and I know I’ll follow him past the end of the line. 

—----

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @Sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed   @ladykatakuri @marrianena  @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol   @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989 @veryprairieberry

[that-ari-blogger]

This Is About Relationships (Hell's Greatest Dad)

I feel like we are seeing more and more stories that draw on horror elements as of recent times, with mixed success.

Critical Role, for example, has put some heavy emphasis on body and cosmic horror in their most recent campaigns, and I think that has worked really well. They are telling a story about feeling powerful in the face of adversity, and so having villains who are either unknowable or far too knowable really works for that idea.

On the other hand, the horror elements of Doctor Strange and the Multiverse of Madness actively took me out of the story, because they didn’t fit with the rest of the franchise at all, and I found that rather jarring.

Then there is Hazbin Hotel, which isn’t scary, but it definitely draws on some of the tools of writing horror. Although it doesn't do that in the way you might expect. Specifically, it uses the character of Lucifer to both embody and subvert the very nature of Gothic horror itself.

Let me explain.

SPOILERS AHEAD: (Hazbin Hotel, Ratatouille, Paradise Lost, Frankenstein)

I have made my stance on genre extremely clear in the past. I think it exists, but I think it is bollocks, and Hazbin Hotel kind of proves my point.

Because, yes, you can boil Horror down into however many constituent parts as you would like in order to organise a bookstore, but however you spin it, Hazbin Hotel fits that, with the exception that it isn’t scary.

Then again, being scary is entirely subjective. For example, I am completely fine with ghosts and ghouls, so the only thing that gets me about games such as Phasmophobia are the jump scares, and Jump Scares aren't horror. By the same score, I am incredibly squeamish, so Hazbin Hotel itself was more difficult for me than a few of my friends.

Which leads me to gothic horror, which has a distinct aesthetic to it that isn’t actually essential at all.

The name actually comes from its aesthetic. Gothic fiction got started in the 1700s when Gothic architecture was popular but gained traction in the early 1800s when authors such as Edgar Alen Poe and Jane Austin got involved. The latter of whom wrote Northanger Abbey in 1818 to parody the overdramatization of the genre in a book that I personally despise.

Austin’s book comes across to me as incredibly insincere. I have an infinite respect for Austin’s work, but there is a deep sense of contempt in Northanger Abbey that drives me up the wall.

I want to be clear here, this is not me saying the book is bad. It is incredibly well written. I just hate it with every fibre of my being.

To me, Northanger Abbey missed the point of the gothic genre. Gothic isn't about the emotion, it's about the humanity. The fallibility, the force of will, the instability and resilience that come and go like the wind.

Gothic horror turns that into fear, specifically the fear of morality. It’s the Ratatouille genre. Any angel can sin, any demon can rise. Or in other words:

“Anyone can cook.”

Gothic horror is the fear of inconsistency. That someone you trust can betray you, or spiral into awful deeds, or that someone you despise might be right. It’s the fear of redemption, and conversely, the terror of good motives leading to bad ends.

Other subsets of horror draw on the fear of the unknown, or of not knowing. Gothic fiction is steeped in the terror of what you know being wrong.

Case and point, Frankenstein is both the archetypal science fiction book, and a phenomenal Gothic story. The terror is derived from the fact that it’s titular character can be so great and yet such an absolute monster, as well as the horror of creating a conscience.

The creature is intelligent, and its intrinsic morality is up for debate the entire time. Frankenstein calls it his "Adam", for Pete's sake. It kills multiple people, but as a reader you are unsettled by how much you agree with its motives.

Gothic horror is the fear of absence. There is no good or evil here, just people.

There’s a reason I brought up Ratatouille. The conflict of the series is derived from Skinner’s visceral fear that someone he despises as much as Linguine can actually be competent, combined with a field rat rising from the gutter to run a restaurant. “Anyone can cook” is a threat in this movie, but it gets better explained by Ego in a way that I really like.

“In the past, I have made no secret of my disdain for Chef Gusteau’s famous motto: ‘Anyone can cook.’ But I realize, only now do I truly understand what he meant. Not everyone can become a great artist, but a great artist can come from anywhere.”

According to one of the greatest fanfics ever written, Paradise Lost, Lucifer rebelled against G-d’s vision and fell, which can be taken any number of ways. It’s written so that you sympathise with the main character, who is, may I remind you, the literal devil.

Worth noting, Frankenstein's monster reads Paradise Lost. I wonder if there is any significance to that.

Lucifer from Hazbin Hotel is nominally the same character as his biblical counterpart, except that he is blissfully unaware of any of the themes surrounding him. Kinda.

He has grasped the fact that anyone can fall, but the reverse of that hasn’t quite registered to him yet.

Case and point, he doesn’t understand people at all. He has sought escapism through “stuff”. By which I mean the ducks, but I also mean his song, Hell’s Greatest Dad.

Part of the gothic theming in Hazbin Hotel is that people aren’t static, and that relationships are more important than anything else. Angel Dust and Pentious don’t become better people through trust falls, the find it through love and companionship, both platonic and more than platonic.

To demonstrate this, we contrast Lucifer with Alastor, who once again doesn’t sing his own song but steals it off someone else. Alastor’s relationship with Charlie is so obviously sinister, and that will be better explained two episodes down the line, but at least he has a relationship with her.

The agony of this is that Jeremy Jordan is a phenomenal voice actor, who, along with Lucifer’s stellar writing, endears the character to you from his first scene.

Alastor is a villain; Lucifer is an absent father. Who do you side with here? That’s gothic fiction.

“Sailors fighting in the dance hall, Oh man, look at those cavemen go. It’s the freakiest show. Take a look at the lawman Beating up the wrong guy Oh man, wonder if he’ll ever know He's in the best selling show. Is there life on Mars?”

This is the chorus of a David Bowie song called Life On Mars. It centres around someone seeking escape through television and storytelling. It points out the futility of this, but the fact that it works. It’s a stable dynamic that doesn’t go anywhere.

Remind you of anything?

“Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef? Michelin tasting menu, free à la carte I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just to start!”

Lucifer is offering Charlie anything she could dream of. Any thing. But Charlie doesn’t need an object. She needs a father, and she needs her relationship with Lucifer.

Enter Alastor, who, up to this point, has been generally benevolent to Charlie. He’s basically the embodiment of that old Tumblr textpost that described someone as “chaotic gay. I haven’t done anything evil yet, but my general aesthetic and demeanour tell you that I will, any day now.”

Side note, I know this post exists. I have seen it, I have screenshots of it. But Tumblr’s search function is so legendarily awful that I cannot locate it. Tumblr’s search function has beaten the FBI before, and I don’t have that much patience.

In any case, Alastor offers up his own curriculum vitae in the form of this:

“Who’s been here since day one? Who’s been faithful as a nun? Makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your executive producer.”

He’s pitching himself via his relationship with Charlie. But what I wanted to point out specifically was how the two characters relate to the beat of the song.

This song is inspired by Friend Like Me. I know it's subtle, but I'm onto something, and I can pick out the clues. If you look closely at his moustache in this shot...

Lucifer is clicked to the rhythm, or rather, his backing music is. The band hits ever downbeat as one, looping back to play the same thing every few bars. It is incredibly stable. The one thing that isn’t, is Lucifer.

The man misses every single beat by a fraction of a second. Not much, but when you contrast him with the entirely of the rest of the song, you notice that tiny imperfection, especially when Alastor doesn’t share it.

Alastor starts singing by matching the beat perfectly with his opening sounds, then going free within the restraints. Later, when he co-opts the song, the band begins playing along with him and matching his melody.

The Radio Demon understands people incredibly well, and he works on relationships. As such, his music has a much more symbiotic relationship between each of the parts. Lucifer’s feels like a creation, Alastor’s feels like it was created, if that makes sense. There’s a human element to Alastor’s take on this song.

Which brings me back to the gothic stuff going on here, and the relationship between Lucifer and Alastor. Alastor is, of course, a manipulator. He takes issue with Lucifer because he wants Charlie isolated. But Lucifer has no reason to get upset by Alastor, right?

Alastor shakes up Lucifer’s entire worldview, to the point where I find some of the double dad dynamic between them rather compelling. Most of it.

Alastor is risk incarnate; he stands for the idea that anyone can do anything. A radio presenter can be a cannibal, and have parenting instincts take over with Nifty and at times Charlie. But he is unsafe. Because he is such an unknown, he is untrustworthy. You don’t know where you stand.

Lucifer, meanwhile, is terrified of this fact. He likes the safety of knowing where he stands, he can protect himself there, but he can also protect others. In my eyes, that’s why he was so absent with Charlie. He found something he could understand and kept it because he didn’t want to shake up the rhythm. But that was futile, and he realises this over the course of this episode.

But you might say “wait, Alastor is ace, he can’t be with Lucifer,” and my answer is twofold. First up, I am ace too, that doesn’t prohibit relationships. I’m not even talking about romantic stuff here, Alastor is the poster boy for being aromantic, but more importantly, parenting isn’t just about the other parent.

The two can both be dads, joined by their mutual care for their daughter, rather than affection for each other. I find that compelling. Charlie needs both the security and the sign that everything is possible. She needs someone to lift her up, but she also needs someone to catch her when she falls, and Lucifer and Alastor both play different roles in that dynamic.

Any angel can sin, any demon can rise. Anyone can be a dad, anyone can cook.

Final Thoughts

Jeremy Jordan is a global treasure and even if this series doesn’t stick the landing with its next season (we will see), Lucifer will be amazing.

Do I have a crush on this man? No. No, I do not. Why do you ask?

In all seriousness, I think episode five should have been two episodes. One for this song, and one for the next. Lucifer would join the Hotel’s crew for a few days, befriending Pentious and co., being utterly disrespected by Husk, and being eased into the fact that morality isn’t binary.

I don’t even mean this from just the pacing perspective, I think the series would have so much more thematic weight if it devoted more time to the literal devil learning the thesis of the series and becoming on board with redemption. I think that would be cool.

I'm also just now realising that this is a Gothic Horror musical, so of course Alex Brightman got cast in it.

In any case, next week is More Than Anything, which is yet another case study in why Jeremy Jordan is amazing. Stick around if that interests you.

Previous - Next

[skyalent]

Witches Can Be Good | Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader - Part 1

This is intended to be a short story/one shot. I wrote this when I had a sudden idea of a crossover between Supernatural and the Scarlet Witch. Also available on my Wattpad and Quotev! Enjoy!

This inspired by a tumblr post: The Sweet Old Lady is a Witch by Thera. I really love her Wanda/Y/n OC and the story! Here's her story: https://thera-daydreams.tumblr.com/post/658041636626022400/

Supernatural x Scarlet Witch! Reader

I do not own Marvel or Supernatural.

Part 1 (You are here) *~* Part 2 *~* Part 3 *~* Part 4???

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Part 1: Into the World of Supernatural

Wanda was done and tired.

After going through the multiverse with Dr. Strange and Loki, after Westview, after sacrificing everything over and over and over again Wanda was done and tired.

She looked tiredly towards the two friends that had grown on her. The two friends that had become brothers to her. Sensing her stare they turned to her, silence questioning in their eyes as she smiled tiredly at them.

"I think I'm done."

...

"... you're done...?" Dr. Strange repeated, not fully understanding what Wanda was implying.

"I'm tired, Stephen. I want to relax, sit down for a while... maybe watch the flowers grow."

Loki looked at her with a contemplative look before nodding, "Where will you go?"

"Anywhere but here." Wanda automatically responded, "I don't care if there's heroes there or anything really. As long as the world is somewhat normal and similar and they leave me alone, anywhere is fine."

Both Strange and Loki looked at each other before carefully taking Wanda's hands in theirs, a gesture that they had come up with to comfort each other. They had all gotten close together after all they had went through.

"We'll call you if we need you." Strange commented.

"And we'll keep in touch." Loki added, elbowing Strange who lightly glared back at him, "We won't bother you too often. Go live your 'normal' life."

"You deserve it." Strange tried to redeem himself, gaining a small grin from Wanda. "Just try not to cause any trouble. Or rather, trouble we'll have to intercept in." Loki elbowed him again.

"I'll try my best." Wanda only smiled, squeezing her hands that held theirs before letting go. "I better get going now."

"See you around Wanda."

"I think a fresh start needs a new name, doesn't it?" Strange said suddenly.

"Strange I think that's the first good idea I've heard come from your mouth." Loki scoffed, grinning as Strange looked at him offended. "I've always been partial to the name Y/n."

"Y/n L/n it is." Strange proudly smiled ignoring the look Loki gave him as he looked at Wanda- at Y/n.

"Really? L/n?"

"I think it sounds nice, Loki." Y/n reassured the god. At those words he automatically changed his mind.

"Yes, Y/n L/n surely fits you."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Y/n sighed as she finally finished conjuring up all of the new items for her new home. She had already put a spell around it, ensuring that those who entered her new home would feel safe, warm, and comfortable. She wanted the exact opposite of Westview. She carefully hid the runes, making them small and they camouflaged well with the decorative wallpaper.

She had bought a small store, her home right above it. The store, Y/n decided, was going to sell things that she took comfort in. Books, plants, and a couple assorted goods if she felt like baking in the kitchen. There was even a section for artists to paint and for others to just sit in the bean bags and relax or read a good book.

Speaking of books, the town she moved into was awfully generous. After hearing she was going to open a bookstore, the resident librarian, who was an old, dying man, came up to her. He loved his books as if they were his own children. But his grandchildren didn't want to take over the library and he didn't want to see all of his books get tossed away.

And so, the old man generously gave Y/n most of the books from his library. He kept some and donated the rest to charity. Y/n's little shop was going well. Y/n didn't mind much about the slow business, she just wanted to relax and take in every moment. Something that she never would have done before.

But as each day passed, Y/n couldn't help herself but to find out the secret of this world. The supernatural existed.

It didn't come as much of a shock for Y/n, considering she was partly supernatural, but to hear the benevolent spirits and ghosts gossiping about ghosts who had fallen into rage and anger confused her. It baffled her so much to hear about ghosts actually having the ability to kill people, so she separated ghosts into two categories.

Astral ghosts. Ghosts of the dead who wandered in the astral plane, patiently waiting for something to occur before accepting their death. These were the ghosts that never went angry or fell into a random rage. Like the poor old librarian. He was waiting for his grandchildren to visit either his grave, the shut down library, or Y/n's bookstore before passing on. In the meantime, he continued his daily routines as if he were alive.

Then there were the angry ghosts. Not a very original name, Y/n knew, but it was simple enough for her to understand. They were the ghosts that fell into darkness and killed others, overwhelmed with rage to even see reason.

She didn't worry much about those ghosts, because the ones that were in her small town were given free therapy by her, and easily lost their anger and passed on to the afterlife with the reaper guiding them.

The other supernatural things? Y/n read up on them with the books given to her in the library, but other than that, she didn't care about them. If they were to ever show up at her town, she would make sure to deal with it so that everyone would be safe. But as she settled in and let her guard down for the next couple months, a little shapeshifter decided that her small town would be the perfect place to stir some trouble.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"I'm Agent Adam Clayton, and this is my partner Agent Larry Mullen. We're with the FBI. We'd like to ask you a couple questions about a couple customers you've had."

Y/n stared wearily at the two men who had entered her shop. Just by reading their minds she could tell their names were false, especially since they were the same names as the band members from U2. However, she didn't comment on it, considering they were partially telling the truth about asking questions of her customers.

"What have my customers done to get attention from the FBI?" Y/n asked curiously, although she continuously kept reading their minds for answers.

"Just a couple of them have gone missing ma'am. We're hoping you could give us any clues as to where they've gone."

Getting enough answers from reading the tall one's mind (he thought a lot and his thoughts were practically screaming at her) she nodded at them. Hunters that hunt and kill the supernatural? Y/n guessed they were the hero equivalent in this world. The only question left would be if they would kill her if they found out she was also a 'witch.' "So, which customers?"

"Robert Dunn, Todd Alexander, and Philip Navarro." the shorter one answered her. They watched her as she continued to walk around her shop, watering her plants.

Y/n took her time to recall them, "Well, the three of them were all from out of town. We've never had that many visitors before so it was easy to remember them. They all liked to talk too." Y/n frowned at the thought of those conversations she had with them. But now that she actually thought about it, the thoughts of the 3 customers were somewhat similar.

The taller one, catching Y/n's frown, continued to question her. "What did they talk about?"

"You know, simple 'What's your name?' or 'Could I get your number?' They were all particularly flirty."

"So would you say no if I asked for your number?" 'Adam Clayton' couldn't help but comment, getting elbowed by 'Larry Mullen.' Wow, these boys really reminded Y/n of Stephen and Loki.

"I'd tell you the same response I told those men. I'm not interested in a relationship right now. Taking a break from that." Y/n handed 'Adam' a yellow tulip. At the questioning look, Y/n answered him, "So you don't feel too bad. Yellow tulips mean joy and a whole lot of other things."

"Do you give every man you reject a yellow tulip?" 'Adam' pouted causing Y/n to grin slightly.

"Well, any type of yellow flowers work. Yellow flowers in general symbolize spreading happiness and joy."

"Sorry- about the men? What happened after that?" 'Larry' steered them back on track.

"Oh, they all left the store looking somewhat upset but also giddy. Philip said he'd be back to try again though he hasn't been back in a week already."

'Larry' nodded, seemingly getting all the information he wanted and thanking Y/n politely before taking 'Adam' with him to stop him from flirting any further with Y/n.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"So the only connection right now is Y/n, but why?" Sam questioned, going through a book he had borrowed at Y/n's store earlier.

"She's a hot chick. Who wouldn't go and take a chance to ask her out?" Dean replied, happily munching on a burger as he sat on the couch of their motel room.

"You think she's the one who's been killing them?" Sam asked, "It's a possibility."

"Remember what Philip told her?" Dean reminded Sam, "He'd be back to try again. Pretty creepy if you ask me."

"So a shapeshifter?"

"Bingo!"

"That seems a little far fetched, Dean."

"Hey, all we gotta do is watch the chick and then we'll figure out if it's her or if it's a shapeshifter. Easy solution! Or we could get access to her security cameras."

Sam grunted as he closed the book, flopping onto his bed. "She doesn't have any. I checked. Please tell me you at least find that suspicious."

"Hey, maybe she can't afford them! Town's pretty small, her shop's pretty small, she might not get a lot of income, you know?" Dean stood up, walking to the door, "I'm gonna get a drink, wanna come?"

Sam didn't respond and Dean took that as a no, leaving for the nearest bar. He kept walking to the bar he saw close-by, but just as he turned the corner, a fist hit his face and he blacked out.

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As Dean came back into consciousness, he was greeted by the sight of Philip shedding his skin and forming into himself. Damn, he was right. It was a shapeshifter. The shapeshifter merely glanced at the tied up Dean, glaring deadly holes into him. "She's mine..!" he hissed at Dean, leaving the cold room.

Looking around the room, he saw the bodies of the other men, too late to save them. Philip however, laid unconscious on the floor. Dean could see however that the Shapeshifter had injured Philip greatly and that if he did not get any help right away, he could die. Frantically working at the ropes, Dean could only hope that Sam would get to Y/n on time. (However, Sam was fast asleep, blissfully unaware of what had happened).

.

.

.

Y/n didn't think it was normal of 'Adam' to come knocking at her door, especially at the middle of the night when the store was most definitely closed. She peaked from the safety of her window, using her magic to be invisible just in case she were to be spotted.

'Adam' was filled with possessive thoughts that automatically told Y/n something was wrong. As she shuffled through 'Adam's' memories, she found that most were not there, some floating around, the most recent one being tied up in some kind of basement.

"Hey Miss Y/n...? Are you here?" a shy astral ghost of a child appeared behind her. It was a ghost Y/n had met recently a few weeks ago. At the voice, Y/n moved away from the window and reappeared. "Yes, dear?"

The child stumbled back a bit in surprise but quickly calmed down, looking at her. "Remember how I said what I wanted most was for my dad to visit my grave at least once?"

"Yes?" Y/n whispered quietly back to the child, motherly instincts taking over as she looked at the child gently.

"I changed my mind. He needs help right now. That's what I want most. For dad to live." The ghost child looked at Y/n with determination and Y/n couldn't help but answer their plea.

"Lead the way."

Sneaking out of the house via the backdoor, Y/n followed the ghost child to the other side of town, going into the forest near their town and was led to a cabin. Inside the cabin was a simple bunk bed and a large chest. Nothing inside the cabin seemed to have been used in a while. The only thing that indicated someone- something lived here was the vase filled with yellow flowers at the window sill.

"Here. He's down there." The ghost pointed at the chest, before floating through it and disappearing. Using her magic, Y/n easily pulled the chest out of the way and revealed a passageway with a ladder heading straight down into the darkness. Not seeing her ghost friend, Y/n continued heading down, deeper and deeper until she reached the floor.

It was cold down here. The lights were dim and flickered occasionally, but it was clear that it was being powered by electricity somehow. "This way, this way." The ghost child urged, pointing down the hallway.

Quickly, Y/n rushed, her footsteps echoing as she ran. As she made it to the end of the hallway she saw two corpses, an unconscious Philip and Dean who was looking at her in shock.

"So I'm guessing you're the real 'Adam'?" Y/n asked, although already knowing the answer. She went towards him, untying the ropes as fast as she could. Before Dean could suspect her or say anything Y/n continued to speak, "There was someone who looked like you at my door, but when I zoomed in with my phone to check who it was from the window, your eyes were white." Y/n lied, using the information she knew about shapeshifters to her advantage, "I'm pretty sure that's not exactly normal."

Dean grinned, "Sweetheart, there's a lot of things that aren't normal."

Picking up Philip, the two rushed out of the cabin, not willing to stay any longer to face the shapeshifter. Dean didn't have any gear, and he couldn't risk the lives of two innocent people. However, they didn't make it very far as the Dean clone confronted them in the forest, staring intensely at Y/n.

"Ma'am, back away from the shapeshifter, right now! Don't let it trick you!" the Dean clone shouted at Y/n. If Y/n couldn't read minds, she surely would have felt conflicted right now as Dean also told her,

"He's trying to trick you. Trust me, I'm the real deal. I- I know that sounds bad- but I promise. I'm a hunter. My real name is Dean."

The Dean clone took a step closer causing Y/n to turn to him. "Don't come closer. Mr. Philip needs help right now. I don't care whoever you are as long as he gets help."

Dean, taking advantage of the standstill, grabbed Y/n's hand and started to run, carrying Philip. The motel was nearby, hopefully they could make it and grab Sam's attention somehow.

But the clone was fast. Y/n's eyes narrowed as her other arm was grabbed and she decided that she's had enough. Using her magic she blasted the shapeshifter back. Dean looked at her in shock and fear, but Y/n didn't mind. Those kinds of looks weren't new to her.

"Dean you're a hunter. Do I have to kill the guy or no?" Y/n asked, snapping Dean out of it.

"You're a witch-"

"It's a yes or no question Dean." Y/n snapped, watching blankly as the shapeshifter stood up and began to approach them again, angered.

Taking a step, it jumped at Dean, causing Dean to blurt out a quick "yes!" before the shapeshifter was stopped, floating mid-jump at Dean. The shapeshifter turned to ashes in front of his eyes and Dean turned to look at Y/n with an impassive look.

"I've heard that hunters usually kill witches or anything supernatural, but please get Mr. Philip help first before you decide to kill me."

And with that, Y/n left to her small store, packing up her things in a dimensional pocket. She trusted that Dean would get Philip the help he needed. She just needed to get out of here. If she couldn't convince Dean to not kill her, she would go to another world before he could.

As she quickly finished packing up, the small ghost child appeared before her.

"Thank you for saving dad." the shy ghost looked at the ground, as if blushing from embarrassment.

"It's no problem dear. He was important to you, right? It's important to always care and look out for family." Y/n looked at the ghost kindly, recalling her own family. Reaching out her hand to hold the young ghost's, Y/n gently whispered to them. "I believe it's time for you to rest now, dear."

A reaper appeared next to them, patiently waiting.

"...Will it hurt?"

Y/n smiled at the ghost, reassuring them, "It won't. It'll feel like waking up from a dream."

The shy ghost hugged her tightly, thanking her, before taking the hand of the reaper and disappearing with it. Y/n sighed, relieved that the child was finally at peace. At least they could have the peace Y/n longed for. A gun clicked behind her head. Y/n didn't turn around.

"Explain."

From the voice, Y/n could tell it was the taller brother. 'Larry,' or Sam, had seen, or rather heard the whole interaction. From what he could tell, Y/n was talking to an invisible ghost or spirit and helped it move on to the afterlife. A much different tactic to their usual salt and burn.

"About who I am or what I just did?" Y/n asked.

"Both." Dean came in behind Sam, staring at the witch.

"Hm, well... I'm from a different universe..."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It wasn't easy, but Sam and Dean believed her story. But even after that they didn't completely trust her, which was understandable. But at least they liked her enough to keep calling to use her books for research, to get extra information for hunts, or for Dean to just get a pie (he would never admit it but Y/n's pies were the best he's ever had).

Y/n was allowed to live in her small town, as long as she promised not to kill anyone or the brothers swore to come back to kill her. But as they kept calling her over and over again to help with more and more hunts, she found herself being invited to live in the Bunker with them.

Some days were odd.

Some days the brothers seemed like they hated her and everything witches.

But most days they enjoyed her company. They enjoyed that there was something out there that was supposed to be bad, but was actually good.

And ever so slowly they got used to her magic.

One time Dean had walked in on her using magic in the kitchen. Tools and ingredients were flying places, a bowl was stirring itself. Y/n was at the oven taste testing some sort of soup. Dean felt like he was having a Harry Potter moment. At Dean's awkward cough, Y/n jumped back slightly and lifted her head.

"Oh! Sorry, were you hungry? Um... the kitchen is kinda occupied right now, but you could have this pie!"

At her words, a pie found itself in a very happy Dean's hands. "What are you making?"

"Some miso soup. I was craving it so I decided to make it. I didn't want to go out."

"So then where'd you get this pie?"

"Oh, I had a feeling you were going to want one later, so I made it earlier!"

Touched by her kindness, Dean nodded, grateful, but he didn't want to be sappy so he happily left with his pie. Y/n chuckled to herself as she heard Dean's thoughts praising her and her pie.

Sam had come to enjoy their conversations on the supernatural. As he had found out, despite being a witch, Y/n had very basic knowledge on the supernatural world and mostly got her information from her books. So, Sam had taken it upon himself to teach Y/n about the most common and dangerous, and most importantly how to kill it.

Sam had been very careful to teach Y/n about the witch-killing spell and bullets. He had nearly freaked when Y/n went and held a bullet, observing it closely before taking it apart with her magic.

"-so these are the bullets and- WAIT NO Y/N IT'LL KILL YOU!" Sam panicked, lunging towards her as Y/n took the bullet apart. Hearing the yell, Dean came running.

"What's happening!?"

At that moment Sam crashed into the couch Y/n was sitting on as she dodged him.

Y/n chuckled, "I'm fine, this won't hurt me. You told me the ingredients, remember? When combined together, yes, they do kill witches. But they won't kill witches like me."

Y/n poked at the bullet before putting it back together and placing the bullet in the case, which Sam immediately closed and put away. "Let's not do that again. E-Even if it won't- I just, I don't want to risk it."

Seeing how much she had made Sam worry, Y/n put her hand gently on Sam's. "I'm sorry Sam. I didn't mean to worry you."

Sam sighed, gently clasping Y/n's hands, "It's alright... you're good. I just... don't want..."

"I know... thank you..." Y/n smiled.

"Aww, look at the two love birds~ get a room already!"

"DEAN SHUT UP!"

However there was a day that Y/n truly treasured. It was the day that both brothers finally put their complete trust in Y/n. This happened during a hunt.

They had quickly figured out it was a ghost and brought Y/n with them so they could finish up quick, but the ghost was more tricky to deal with than they had originally thought.

The ghost was a woman who had been cremated, so there were no remains they could burn. They still had to identify what object the ghost was attached to. It had moved from city to city, so it must have been an object easy to bring along.

Quite easily they could tell it was a vengeful spirit as there was a pattern going on. Mothers were the target, whether they still had kids or not didn't matter apparently. As long as you were a mother at one point (or pregnant), the ghost would come and attack. From what they could get as pretending to be the FBI, the children had seen the ghost that attacked their moms, but the description of the ghost varied from child to child. One thing stayed consistent however, the ghost never touched the kids. At times the ghost had reassured them that everything was okay, that she would take care of them.

As they researched (Sam and Y/n researched, Dean ate on the motel bed), Y/n couldn't help but feel... worried? Sympathetic?

Just from looking at the ghost's targets, Y/n could tell the ghost was a mother at one point in their lives. The ghost was like her, desperate to find and keep her family. Her children. But unlike the ghost, Y/n had learned how to grow from the pain. She had reached the acceptance part in the 5 stages of grief. Yes, she missed her husband and children, but she continued on, knowing that they would be loved and would continue to be loved.

Noticing Y/n spacing out, Dean called out to her. "Hey witchy, you doing okay?"

Y/n looked up at him, "I think I need a break. I'm gonna go for a walk. Wanna come? Sam?"

Dean leaned further into the pillows, "Nah, I'm just gonna relax here."

Sam scowled, "Or you could be helpful and come over here!" to which Dean let out another "nope!" before turning his music up even louder. Sam groaned, "I'm good Y/n, I want to keep researching."

Nodding Y/n left the motel room, taking in the fresh air as she walked.

What she didn't know was that the object the ghost was attached to was in their motel room, and Y/n had left the brothers just before chaos happened.

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Not sure if I want to keep writing this because it was just a quick thought I had. Let me know if you'd like a part 2! 

Edit: Part 2 has been posted!

Next >

[igglemouse]

The sun cast its golden hue over my new town of Oasis Springs as it brought in the hopes of a new day. The simoleons from yesterday a reminder of my success and also what might be possible for me here.

But while I considered my last food sale a financial success it was certainly a failure socially. My mystery guy did not stop by which had me wondering if perhaps I had failed my first impression. Maybe that's not it? Perhaps the waffles left a lingering ill taste on his lips and he's decided my little offerings are just not enough?

Or...maybe he's taken?

I chomp down on my waffle with that thought bouncing through my head. That was far more likely, wasn't it? He was very handsome and I could tell he was brimming with confidence, the odds of a man like that being single? Very very low.

Later in the day, after a shower and some cleaning, my phone rings and it is someone I've met through my food stand but it's not the person I hope. It's Daniella, the girl I met yesterday who came by a little too late for a plate.

After introductions she tells me that she wishes to be my guide for the city. Hinting and teasing at private parties that she can drag me into and perhaps I'm far too eager to tell her I'm down for it because the mysterious tone she takes on after that kind of worries me.

Honestly, I was just being nice. A girl needs friends, doesn't she?

I head outside and set up. Calling out the usual. Waffles, tortillas, brownies, three dishes that were becoming an early staple of mines.

If only the air wasn't different. Less hurried, less eager, and less people. Perhaps it was too dry and just a little too hot but the result? Ninety-six simoleons.

The weight of my daily gains was both light and heavy. I didn't quite reach my goal but I was thankful for every simoleon made. It was a reminder that success would not be achieved in a straight line and that there would be ups and downs along the way.

The sizzle of my pan brings me solace and a promise of a future to come. The simoleons will be there. I'll work hard, I'll learn a new recipe every day, I'll get better and better to where my skills cannot be declined.

I am a student of flavor and my latest design, simple sliders, are sure to help me have my best day. After all, they are small, easy to plate, and even easier to eat. Perfect dish for a food stall, someone can drop their simoleons off on the table and take one to go. If only they are good.

I take a bite, letting the flavors dance around in my mouth. When it comes to any sandwich it's about creating the perfect mix of meat, bread, veggies, and condiments and I think I've hit the spot. It's a small confirmation of my work but not the final one. That test will come with my customers, of course.

The day stretched on with the promise of little which was expected. I figured I would sit down and find something to eat. Maybe even go to a bookstore and pick up recipe books? Something like that, have a quiet night in and prepare for tomorrow.

The ping of my phone presented another idea. The gym. With the curious man whose been lingering on my mind. When he asks I tell him maybe but we all know my curiosity and quite frankly my desire to see him again will not allow me to decline this invitation.

I'm just surprised he was able to find my number?

When I arrived at the gym I wondered how I had ever missed it. It stood large and looming over the busy street, the other businesses clearly benefitting from the crowd that it drew.

Once inside I met our mystery guy and he wasted little time leading me upstairs, claiming that a session would begin soon and he did not have time to waste.

The session? Yoga.

Fortunately, the class was small. Two others, including him, and he of course took a mat behind me. I laughed inwardly but a man will be a man I suppose? If he's going to admire the female form then I suppose I'd rather it be mines than the girl next to him at least.

Either way, the session starts and reluctantly and clumsily I follow the instructor. She starts with easier poses of course. Breathing exercises, she called them, which were more about relaxing and finding your mental center.

Eventually she would move on to more difficult ones. Stretching out legs and balancing on one foot. Nothing impossible for a beginner but I do think we both looked like fools trying to keep up.

We end on the flat of our backs, eyes closed, and letting our muscles find their natural states. Yoga is a lot harder than it looks but I admit it does feel very rewarding? Perhaps it is something I could get into? Especially if our mystery man is into it...

When I first step foot in this gym my first thought was how chilly it was inside. I almost wondered if I should have brought a coat! Now, I'm thankful for it, the cool air was far more welcome after our little workout and I was thankful that it kept my brow from glistening with any sweat as Pascal (that's his name by the way, so no longer a mystery guy to me) pulled me over for a conversation. A 'get to know each other' conversation, by the way, and thankfully in Selvadoradian so that saves him having to hear my terrible accent.

"So why this?" I ask. "Why yoga?"

"Orders of the captain," he says casually, as if I'm supposed to know what that means. Is he a sailor or... "He says it helps with the flexibility, prevents injuries, and helps with mental focus. All important on the field."

The field? I was still confused until I thought on it a moment longer. He's talking about a sport.

"I kick a ball for a living," he assists, that confident tone of his pulling me in closer.

So this is who I sat across from, Pascal Alcocer, a name that in itself seemed to carry a significance to it. At least to him. To me it was but another name. I think he liked that, he liked that I was ignorant of who he was. Perhaps it's why he's interested in me.

"You've never heard of me? Truly?" he seems sincerely confused. I just stare at him and shake my head. Revealing that I'm really no big fan of sports ball. Oh, don't get me wrong, fútbol as it is called back home is massive but it simply never pulled me in. It's just a bunch of people kicking a ball around in the end.

"I'm sorry," suddenly I feel ignorant. Here is this great athlete, presumably, setting out time to get to know me because he feels like I should already know him. "I just don't watch-"

"No! Please! Frida, is it?" I nod and bite down on my lip, my name seemed to slip so naturally from his lips. "It's refreshing, actually."

I am sure it is. If he's a big time athlete I can imagine he has women buzzing around him daily. Throwing themselves at him, begging for a moment of his attention and wanting a lot more. The more I think about it, the more I dislike it. Dating a man like this would be stressful, wouldn't it?

As I think about it he tells me more about himself. He's a young player with a lot of promise, a 'midfielder', he tells me. That word is filled with pride. I have no idea what it means but I can tell just by how he says it that its a special role on the team, perhaps like that of a sous chef? Either way, he says he plays for Oasis FC which again has little meaning to me beyond the fact that he plays for a professional team but he assures me he's not the big deal some make him out to be.

"I still have lots to prove. I don't quite have that big contract yet but everyone thinks it's a matter of time," he leans back as he says this, realizing that he's spent most of the time talking.

"Sounds like a lot of pressure," I say finally.

He gives me a stern nod and waves away that thought entirely. "I'd rather have the expectations to be great than be regarded as a failure...so, what about you?"

"Oh," where do I go from there? "I just opened up a stall and hope to see where it goes?" Watcher that sounds so lame in comparison. "I just enjoy cooking I guess and-"

"You are adorable, do you know that?"

Well that has me chewing on my lip again and has my face feeling a little warm.

"I-I like you too..."

I find the comfort of a bar soon after, too restless to head home and needing a drink to think on the night I've had with Pascal. First impression? I was impressed.

Sure, the man was so full of confidence that it was bordering on cockiness but I have a feeling that it takes pure arrogance to become a professional athlete.

It was also very clear that was into me. After all, he sought out my number and invited me to a gym and made sure he had a good look of me. Should that make me happy or should I worry that he's a teeny bit pervy?

I don't know. The good thing about a drink is that it allows me to not overthink any of what happened and look forward to seeing him again which, according to him, will be sometime tomorrow...

Episode List - Next

The wonderful public gym lot is by @streneesims

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

i feel like we’re finally at the age of information transparency on the internet that studio head execs are showing their own asses in an unprecendented way. like we all knew they were bigoted old farts who hate minorities and animation as a medium BUT now we have the entire hbo max tobacle, and that’s only the most obvious.

recently two tv shows for wings of fire and phoebe and her unicorn were cancelled– the first because of netflix budget cuts and the second because “nobody wants to watch a female-led show.” as for the latter, that’s so obviously not true that it’s laughable, what with basically every disney animated show being female-led and extremely popular incl. owl house and amphibia, legend of korra being revered rightfully for its badass queer woc main, the female-led infinity train seasons being just as popular as the male-led, my little pony getting a terrifying number of fans... i don’t even have to explain this to y’all i don’t know why i am, it’s just obvious that isn’t the case. the reason i lumped it in with wings of fire though is it shows that these execs literally have their heads so far up their own asses they don’t realize that they’re literally throwing away money. both wings of fire and phoebe are EXTREMELY popular with their target demographic– i work at a library and go to bookstores like, once a week, and wings of fire is THE kids’ series right now– every library and bookstore has a dedicated shelf just for it, every kid in the us and canada reads these gay lil dragon books. i don’t know much about phoebe but i do know that i have to shelf her graphic novels every goddamn day so they’re getting checked out constantly. making these shows would give these studios an immediate HUGE audience but they don’t want it because.......... ???? honestly the only thing i can think of is bias against animation, but also i do know that while WoF is very cishet in the first few books, later books add quite a few queer dragons and that could def be a reason. 

netflix also recently told craig mccracken, creator of some of the most beloved kids shows of the 2000s, that “original content doesn’t sell anymore” and they need to do reboots and remakes instead. which is funny coming from the company that made stranger things which, while nostalgia-bait for the 80s, is an original fucking story. also the owl house and amphibia are disney’s top shows rn. the most popular kids movie right now is encanto, a completely original story. and that’s just in KIDS MEDIA, do i need to bring up the popularity around everything everywhere all at once, squid game, the knives out franchise, etc? we’re in an age of remakes and reboots yeah but original stories can still make money and gain fans if you make a good fucking product. but netflix doesn’t care about that, as evidenced by how fast they cancelled first kill and also every other show that was good.

and idk what it is but something about the state of the internet right now means that we’re all seeing this in a way we hadn’t before. we’re all seeing how fucking dumb these execs are– well, dumb or actively malicious. or even trying to commit corporate suicide for some reason. it’s just interesting to me that all this is happening now when in the past we were just kinda like. stuck with whatever we got

[jupipedia]

“ do you even know my name, screw boy? ” - c. springer. the desired meets the unattainable. college au. ( probably going to be a two or three part fic. )

connie springer was, without a doubt, one of the most noncommittal, yet desired men on campus.

sure, he wasn’t as tall or built as the star quarterback eren jaeger nor was he as smart and empathetic as class president jean kirstein, but something about his impulsiveness and no existent regard for the consequence that usually followed his rash actions attracted most of the women and a few men on campus.

y/n couldn’t see the appeal in the man as she watched him almost set armin’s sleeve on fire during their chemistry lab, shaking her head and facing the professor while armin pulled his arm away and hushedly scolded connie who didn’t look the least bit apologetic as he laughed.

“since we got through the lab quicker than i expected, i’ll dismiss you all early,” the professor said, packing up her own belongings.

“are you coming out with us later? there’s this new band called denim playing at a bar downtown and a few of us want to check them out. they’re opening for femme doll, so even if you don’t like them, you’ll still be able to check out the band that i’ve been talking about,” mikasa asked, packing her things and standing up from her seat next to y/n.

“i’ll let you know how i’m feeling after practice. coach is going to be up my ass because i missed it on tuesday to go with you guys to that one pub because you wanted to spy on your boy toy,” y/n replied, copying mikasa actions.

“i wasn’t spying on him. i just heard that he would be there and wanted to know why,” mikasa defended herself, following after y/n who was walking to the end of their row.

“mhm, whatever you want to believe. we both know that you were—,” y/n said, cutting herself off once she bumped into someone, having not paid attention to where she was going as she talked over her shoulder. she found that the victim of her lack of attention was none other than connie who smirked once the two of them made eye contact. “sorry, i wasn’t paying attention.”

“no worries. it’s a pleasure to bump into you, beautiful. we should do it more often,” connie flirted with the typical smug smirk.

“yeah, never do that again,” y/n said, immediately shutting him down as she brushed by him with a pat on the chest. mikasa soon followed after her as connie continued to stare after the girl.

y/n was seeing his appeal even less after hearing the most common and boring pick up line come out of his mouth. it was their first real interaction and she was already unimpressed. and to think that he had almost every other girl swooning.

“i’m free until practice, did you want to grab lunch or do you have another class?” y/n asked mikasa who was still looking behind her. y/n snapped her fingers in front of her face in order to gain her attention. “wanna get lunch or do you have class?”

“no class, but i have my shift at the bookstore. what was that?” mikasa asked, pointing her finger behind her to the door where connie and armin were conveniently coming out of.

“his terrible attempt at flirting. you would think with all the hype around him, he’d at least have better material,” y/n said, not stopping in her words as the two walked past her.

“talk to me more often and i’ll show you better material. i can’t use my best cards at the beginning of the game, sweetheart. you’re smart, so i thought that you’d understand that,” connie spoke as he paused in his step.

“good thing i’m not interested in playing. c’mon, i’ll walk you to your shift,” y/n said, grabbing mikasa’s arm and walking away from him.

“y’know, y/n, now that i’m looking at you, i can’t say that i’m surprised that he’s taken an interest in you. i mean, you are his type,” mikasa said as she was being dragged in the direction of the bookstore.

“of course i’m his type. what man doesn’t love a girl with long legs wearing one of the shortest skirts that he’s ever seen,” y/n dropped mikasa’s arm and walked alongside her.

“and you aren’t the slightest bit interested in him? you have to admit that he’s at least handsome,” mikasa continued, earning a groan from y/n.

“if you think he’s so attractive, why don’t you go for it? do me the favor honestly.”

“no can do. i already know the man of my dreams and his name isn’t connie. let me know how your next interaction goes and i’ll see you later!” mikasa said, running towards the bookstore in order to be on time for her shift.

“there won’t be one!” y/n yelled after her before turning to walk in the direction of one of the many dining halls on their campus.

and while y/n hoped that what she was saying was true, she found herself staring up at connie from his place on the stage later that evening. she ended up being able to meet up with mikasa as her coach surprisingly took it easy on her. she made it to the bar and had a few shots before being pulled to the front of the stage by historia as the band finished setting up. she was wearing yet another skimpy skirt as she stood in the center of her friend group, watching connie pluck at the strings of his bass guitar. she hadn’t taken him for the musician type, especially one who played indie rock at a bar on a friday night. 

and he looked damn good while doing it.

he looked so good that y/n couldn’t bring herself to look away, even when he locked eyes with her and grinned. she came back to her senses once her friends crowded her and began to coo, causing her to roll her eyes and shake them off. she gave connie one last look before heading over to the bar to get another drink.

“girl, he’s after you,” mikasa said, walking up to y/n’s position at the bar after the set ended.

“yeah, i know. he made that clear this morning,” y/n said, taking the last few sips of her drink before sitting the glass down and pushing off of the bar. just as she stood up straight, she found herself chest to chest with connie and groaned before moving around him.

“so you couldn’t keep your eyes off of me on stage, but now you can’t stand the sight of me? you wound me,” connie said, following close behind the girl as she made her way through the crowd.

“i’m sure you’re used to pretty girls coming down from that musician high and realizing that they want nothing to do with you.” y/n retorted, not sparing him a glance as she talked through someone’s conversation.

“not girls as pretty as you. let me take you out sometime.”

“did you miss the part where i said i wanted nothing to do with you?”

“you don’t even know me. how would you know that you want nothing to do with me if you refuse to get to know me, gorgeous?” connie asked, stopping y/n in her tracks by stepping in front of her.

“do you even know my name, screw boy? last time i checked, it wasn’t gorgeous or beautiful,” y/n tilted her head and crossed her arms as she awaited the boy’s answer.

“i was describing you, y/n. of course i know your name.”

“right, that was a dumb question. of course you’d know the name of whichever poor, unsuspecting girl you decide to try and make your arm candy for the week. now, unless you plan to join me, i’m going outside for a smoke. thanks for the talk. next time, bring the guitar so i’ll at least have something pretty to stare at,” y/n said, successfully walking away from connie who stood in his spot, watching her walk.

“so there’s gonna be a next time?” connie asked with a boyish smile on his face.

y/n let out an amused scoff as she shrugged without turning around. “maybe.”

“so is this hard-to-get thing an act or are you genuinely not going to give him the time of day? because if it’s the latter, i may have to get on my knees and beg you to think again,” annie said, sitting across from y/n as the girl ate her lunch.

“’m not sure. his persistence is kinda cute and almost makes up for the cliche bullshit that comes out of his mouth, but he hasn’t shown any real interest in me besides for the way that i look,” y/n shrugged, taking another bite of her food.

“but he’s so pretty. and you’re super pretty. you’d look pretty good together, even if it only lasts a week,” sasha butted in.

“yeah, and if all i wanted was to be the pretty girl by a pretty boy’s side, i would’ve taken eren up on his offer in our sophomore year.”

when eren had first become known due to his position on the varsity football team, he began his reign as campus playboy. somewhere along the line, he approached y/n and her group of friends, flirting with her and asking her to give him a chance. she would’ve taken him up on it if it weren’t for his history with women because he was a good friend, just a terrible boyfriend.

“so you’re saying that you think eren is prettier than connie?” mikasa asked, looking behind y/n for a brief second before looking back at the girl.

“because if you are, i would have to agree,” annie butted in.

“if i had to really think about it, i’d probably say that connie is closer to my type,” y/n admitted, not looking up from her meal.

“yet, you still don’t want to go on one date with me? perfect chance to get to know me,” connie announced his presence as he approached the table.

“what’s in it for me besides the worst night of my life?” y/n stood up from the table with her trash in hand. “i’m done. i have to go to my internship in a few hours and have work to do before then. i’ll see you guys later.”

y/n spared connie a glance as she brushed by him and paused after taking a few steps.

that was a bit harsh. she didn’t really owe him any kind of grace. she was right to be unimpressed with his advances as she knew a bit about his romantic history if it was even fair to call it that. however, connie was right when he said that she really had no reason to dislike him. granted, he isn’t known to be the best with women, but most of what y/n “knew” about him was through rumors so it was a bit of bitch move to act like he did something to her personally.

y/n threw her head back with a sigh before turning back to the table.

“i’m done with my internship at 6. i’ll be out of the liberal arts building by 6:05. if you’re gonna take me out, might as well be for dinner. if you’re gonna be late, just don’t show up, constance. i mean it,” y/n announced before turning back around to walk to her internship.

“i’ll be there!” connie called after her, his smile visible in his tone.

“pick somewhere good.”

turns out connie’s idea of somewhere good aligned with y/n’s as he chose an italian place not too far from campus. y/n had been looking to go there with her friends once their schedules had finally aligned at a time before 8pm, but that was a rare occurrence.

she now found herself sitting across from connie with a plate of fettuccine al pomodoro sitting in front of her as connie received what she believed to be lasagna.

“so, who told you that i like italian?” y/n asked, taking a sip of the ice water that she asked for.

“mikasa might’ve tipped me off. mentioned something about a new italian place on main street. thought i’d try my luck,” connie admitted with a shrug.

“yeah, surprisingly, she’s rooting for you,” y/n paused. “so, what does getting to know the great constance springer entail?”

“well, for one, you’d learn to know that i hate being called constance. i sound like someone’s old ass grandma,” he joked, earning a short laugh for y/n.

“and what, connie sounds less elderly to you?” she joked back.

“‘s the best i could do with constance,” connie took a bite out of his piece of bread before continuing. “i picked you up from your internship, you said? what’s it for?”

“i’m a researcher. it's a good experience for when i get into whatever political science career after i graduate,” y/n explained briefly.

“what are you researching, right now? i know armin is also doing some kind of research, but i think it involves genetics or something to do with anatomy.”

“are you asking because you’re genuinely interested or because you don’t want to sit in a long, awkward silence?” y/n asked.

“a little bit of both.”

“that’s fair,” y/n said before launching into a long explanation about her internship. this turned into a conversation about her plans for the future that somehow spiraled into him talking about his family back home. their meals were soon forgotten as they spent more of the dinner talking than actually eating their food.

despite y/n explaining that she still had time to catch a bus to her apartment, connie insisted on driving her back to her place to ensure that she would get home safe. and y/n wouldn’t mind admitting that she had a good time talking to him and getting to know him beyond the rumors. he was extremely boyish and had a certain charm to him that she was starting to see the appeal of.

“thanks for walking me to my door,” y/n said as she reached the top of the steps.

“no problem, beautiful. wouldn’t miss a chance to be in your presence even if it’s just for a few more minutes,” connie offered a cheeky smile as he watched y/n roll her eyes with an amused smile on her face.

“we talked about how you need to work on your corny pick up lines. they’re awful,” y/n said, turning to unlock her door.

“are they working?” he asked.

“absolutely not.” yes, they are.

“I will leave you to the rest of your night then. i’ll see you tomorrow?” connie asked, slowly backing away from the door.

“yeah, i’ll be in chem if that’s what you’re asking,” y/n responded, leaning on the door frame.

“you’re not gonna give me your number?”

“are you asking for it?” y/n rebutted.

“no, but if you’re feeling a bit charitable, you’d be willing to give it to someone as less fortunate as me,” connie said, holding his phone out for the girl to take, which she did.

“text me some time,” y/n said, stepping into her apartment after handing him back his phone.

“does this mean you like me?” he called after her.

“you’re not bad, springer. good night,” she responded without looking back and closed the door before he could respond.

she thought that she was in the clear until she saw mikasa sitting at one of the bar stools, having been waiting for her.

“‘you’re not bad, springer’? what happened to not being interested?” mikasa teased as y/n walked by her.

“fine. i’m a little interested. he’s charming,” y/n admitted, walking into her room and dropping her belongings onto her desk chair. she was tying up her hair for her shower when she got a notification.

xxx-xxx-xxxx

pick you up in the morning?

super fucking charming.

© jupipedia—do not repost, plagiarized, or falsely claim my work. likes, comments, and reblogs are welcome!

[p5x-theories]

Yaoling's Confidant

(last updated 9/17/24!)

This post documents the fully filled-in information on Yaoling Li gained through progressing her Confidant! It contains things that could be considered spoilers for her Confidant, as part of the information is a summary of its story.

Yaoling is available in the evenings most days, when it isn’t rainy. Her Confidant is tied to the Knowledge social stat, and level 17 Knowledge is required to fully complete it.

Favorite Presents

(An asterisk (*) marks the special presents added with (and unlocked through) Miyu Sahara’s Confidant, which are liked by all Confidants currently in the game.)

Limited Card Set A rare collection of cards with debut photos of and dream declarations from members of idol groups.

Supernatural Video There's no telling what might actually happen in this supernatural-themed video...?

Mysterious Glasses Black-framed glasses that are said to allow the wearer to see invisible things.

Special Nut Mix A nut gift pack that can quickly replenish energy and help balance nutrition.

Adult Smart Ring This metal ring puzzle suitable for adults can effectively exercise finger flexibility and is also helpful for exercising brain power.

Latest Digital Camera The latest digital cameras not only have a higher resolution, but are also easy to operate.

Traditional Dim Sum Combination A dim sum gift box with traditional shapes and fillings, allowing one to taste the most authentic Japanese flavor.

Kendama A very popular traditional toy that requires some practice to master.

High-Performance Electric Toothbrush A popular model of electric toothbrush from a well-known brand that can effectively clean your mouth.

Limited-Edition Keychain* This keychain has a unique shape, and is well-made, but there weren’t many of it produced. It has a certain collector’s value.

Bulk Snacks Value Pack* A combo pack containing a variety of traditional snacks that will remind people of the taste of childhood.

Advanced Essential Oil Combination* A value-for-money set of essential oils, with multiple functions to help you relax your mind and body.

Chestnut Cake* Fragrant chestnut cake with mild sweetness to suit most people’s tastes.

Musical Snow Globe* A snow globe that plays music, and can be shaken gently to make snow fall inside.

Desktop Incense Machine* A household incense machine that is small in size, so it can be placed anywhere.

Jasmine Tea Elegant and pure flowers are baked in the hands of a tea craftsman to make tea. The charming aroma is also one of the most popular features of this tea.

Personal Information

Birthday: May 20 Zodiac Sign: Taurus Age: 19 years old Profession: Undergrad Height: 164 cm Weight: 51 kg Blood Type: ?? Interests: Tea, desserts, movies Features: Chinese food

Story

Character Details An international student from Sichuan, China, living in an apartment in Yongen-Jaya. It seems that her Japanese is not very good... she will misunderstand the meaning of words, and sometimes use some strange Japanese.

Personal Data 1 Yaoling Li is an international student from China whom I met by chance in the supermarket in Yongen-Jaya. Because she is new here, she is not very familiar with Japan and the Japanese language. She hopes that I can help...

Personal Data 2 According to Yaoling's introduction, she seems to have chosen to study abroad at the request of her parents. After arriving in Japan, she felt that her life was dull and she lacked motivation. She hopes that I can help her understand Japan and figure out the purpose of studying abroad.

Personal Data 3 As our first stop exploring Japan, Yaoling and I went to the used bookstore street in Jinbocho. After experiencing the cultural differences between China and Japan, the change in scenery seemed to make Yaoling very motivated.

Personal Data 4 For our second stop exploring Japan, we went to Harajuku, where young people gather. This place seemed to remind Yaoling of some of the scenery in her hometown, and she even began to investigate "spicy crepes"...

Personal Data 5 While discussing with Yaoling the next stop on our Japan exploration trip, we met Yaoling’s neighbor, Yukimi Fujikawa. After seeing Yukimi be severely disciplined by her mother, the enthusiastic Yaoling felt that she could not just sit back and ignore it, so she decided to ask Yukimi to go with us on our next trip...

Personal Data 6 At Yaoling's invitation, Yukimi went to Asakusa with us. Contrary to the lively Yaoling, Yukimi pays attention to following the rules. Even if her ideas are different from her mother's, she will act according to her mother's plan. Yaoling seems to be very worried about this...

Personal Data 7 Yaoling hoped that Yukimi could be brave enough to be herself, and the difference in their ideas eventually turned into a conflict at the tea ceremony... After the fight with Yukimi, Yaoling seems to have begun to reflect on whether she was qualified to criticize other people's beliefs.

Personal Data 8 In order to express her apology to Yukimi, Yaoling hopes to organize a tea ceremony for Yukimi together with me. After experiencing various twists and turns together, the relationship between Yaoling and I gradually changed.

Personal Data 9 At the second tea ceremony, Yaoling shared the culture related to Chinese tea and cuisine, and her thoughts on her travels, with Yukimi. She also solemnly apologized to Yukimi. At the same time, Yaoling's frankness and sincerity also moved Yukimi.

Personal Data 10 Yukimi mustered up the courage to tell her mother her true thoughts. At the same time, Yaoling seemed to understand her parents' good intentions. Although the matter has come to an end, it seems that Yaoling's life in Japan will continue. The journey will require her to continue working hard.

Voice Lines

Japanese VA: Ru Thing | Chinese VA: XiaoLianSha

(As I can only add up to ten audio files per post, I’ll only include the Japanese lines below! Feel free to ask for the Chinese ones, though.)

I am Yaoling Li from Sichuan, China. I'm happy to meet you.

I still don't understand Japanese very well... there may be some mistakes. I hope you aren't angry! Thank you!

(Note: the "Thank you!" is spoken in Chinese, not Japanese!)

Obviously it would be fine to continue studying in my own country. Why would my parents want me to study abroad? Maybe when I find the meaning of studying abroad, I can understand what my parents were thinking.

It's just a stereotype to say that Sichuan people love spicy food! But... it would indeed be tastier if Japanese food could be spicier...

Sensei not only served as my guide in Tokyo, but also helped me find the meaning of studying abroad... He's not just a guide to Tokyo, but a guide to life!

Yukimi-san follows the rules and works very hard to control her thoughts... In comparison, I do whatever I want... No, would you say I'm "opinionated"?

Is Sensei also interested in Chinese tea? I can explain it to you any time, if you have the chance! Hehe, this time it's my turn to be Sensei's sensei!

Confidant-Specific Bonuses

Rank 1 Ingenuity: Unlocks some infiltration tools for crafting.

Rank 5 Chinese Cuisine Recipes: Unlocks some Chinese dishes for cooking.

Rank 9 Reward for Hard Work: Unlocks more infiltration tools for crafting.

Rank 13 Skilled Skills: Gives a chance for some materials to be returned after crafting infiltration tools.

Rank 17 The Charm of Chinese Cuisine: Unlocks more Chinese dishes for cooking.

[pandasmagorica]

Disability and the Last Twilight ending

Much as I loved Last Twilight, warts and all, I was disappointed at some of the choices they made surrounding their depictions of disability and Day's path through it.

I'm writing as a person with a disability, but not blindness (or deafness for that matter).

We don't get a lot of depictions of disability in fictional media. That places a lot of our hopes that any particular depiction will get it right:

that characters with disabilities either have already found a way to live well (Rear Window, Wait Until Dark, Not Me) or learn to work within it (Moonlight Chicken, Last Twilight through the end of episode 11).

that we don't get an unrealistically perfect or heroic depiction of a person with disabilities.

that the person with disabilities' success and happiness is not dependent on a savior, although they can get help from others.

that a happy ending (if the fiction is to end happily) does not depend on curing the disability.

that if the fiction is a romance, that the person with disability ultimately has approximately equal agency with their partner, who might be abled or disabled.

that we get to see main characters that fulfill the above desires.

I think Last Twilight came through on the first two points, and one can argue about the third, but failed on the last three.

Day, while blind, opened a bookstore. While the bookstore has print books, there are also activities for blind people. (yay)

Day is imperfect. (yay)

Day's life is changed for the better by Mork's help, and continues to improve once Mork has been booted out of Day's life. (open to debate)

Day's blindness was cured. (sigh)

Day didn't have equal agency with Mork pre-break-up. He could only get his agency by breaking up with Mork, and subsequently, by regaining his sight. (sigh)

Aon, a fairly minor character, fulfilled the first three desires, but Day, a main character, did not. (In Not Me, Yok's mother is a fairly minor character. In Moonlight Chicken, Heart is one of the side couple.) (sigh)

If we had plenty of depictions of people with disabilities, most of which satisfied the first several desires I listed, and we also regularly got lead characters with disabilities, then Last Twilight's failings would not be a big deal.

But we don't.

And Day's blindness was a central part of the plot.

I'm not angry about this. I'm disappointed.

There are other failings which bloggers have raised, such as Mork's apology to Day and Day failing to apologize to both Mork and Night - seems like we just got through discussing that sort of thing about Only Friends (more sigh). So I'll focus on what I see as other failings involving disability.

Day gained additional independence by acquiring a cane. So why wasn't he using it when leaving the hotel in episode 12? Beyond setting up the plot point of Mork helping him, that is.

Lack of Thai Braille in Day's bookstore. (Although, given the technology that Day demonstrated - as when he read Mork's contract on his phone - perhaps Braille is less important than it once was.)

Actually, why wasn't Day using the cane in the bookstore so he doesn't accidentally walk into or grab a customer?

Actually, why didn't Day get a cane much earlier?

Or use tools such as a Braille embosser, something that's been around for years and years?

We don't see Day asking the blind guy if he wants help crossing the street, good etiquette for interacting with a person with a disability, presumably because the writers don't want us to know he has his eyesight back until they get across the street for a delayed reveal.

I'm hoping that, as with the increasing depiction of queers in media being accompanied by an increasing percentage of positive, layered depictions, that we'll see a similar increase in positive, layered depictions of people with disabilities.

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 14: DREAM CATCHER - Episode 6: Researching As We Take A Breather

Kazunari: Yes, yes… Ah, I see~ Got it. I’ll make the approps changes and send it again~...

Kazunari: Yes, thank you for your time.

[Kazunari hangs up]

Kazunari: *exhales*...

Kazunari: (Another flop~... This is the 5th time.)

Kazunari: (I get that it’s different from when I was a student, but if this keeps going, my self-confidence is gonna take a nose dive~)

Kazunari: (I did go to an art uni, but I majored in Japanese painting, so all my design knowledge is self-taught.)

Kazunari: (I’m starting to feel like my lack of basic knowledge is the problem here.)

Kazunari: (I’ve been pulling through till now because my acquaintances have been asking for things I’m good at…)

Kazunari: (But my old way of doing things probably won’t help me with the wide range of demands from my current clientele.)

Kazunari: (Maybe I should study the basics of designing again~)

Kazunari: Design… course… with experience…

Kazunari: (“Online course”, “Study design abroad”... There’s a lot of stuff here~)

[Door opens]

Muku: I’m back.

Kazunari: Welcome baack~

Muku: Ah, sorry, are you working?

Kazunari: It’s okie. You’re back early today, Mukkun.

Muku: I was thinking of going for a walk through Veludo Way.

Muku: A lot of theater companies have been doing Street ACTS lately, so I thought seeing a few might help me out.

Kazunari: I see~ Maybe I should come along and take a breather!

-

Muku: There’s a lot of new and different theater companies. But they’ve all chosen different approaches.

Muku: There’s those that specialize in theatrical performances, and those that specialize in dancing and facial expressions. And also those that specialize in musicals…

Muku: And there are also the stranger ones. Like the one that mixes acting with cooking, or the other one that mixes acting with muscle training…

Kazunari: They may just be trying to make their companies stand out, but all these new things are super exciting~

Kasumi: Oh? Muku-kun and Kazunari-kun?

Muku: Hello!

Kazunari: Kasumi~nu, you’re out shopping?

Kasumi: Yeah.. I went to the bookstore. “The Saint is Omitted” was released today. Do you read it too, Muku-kun?

Muku:  Ah! It slipped my mind! Of course, I read it!

Muku: While it seems like your typical saint story, there are some interesting plot twists.

Muku: I’ve been loving it so far because the heroine is charming like a hero!

Muku: I can’t believe I forgot its release day… I wonder why…

Muku:  My memory is like the dust an eraser leaves behind…

Kazunari: A lot has been happening lately~ Don’t sweat it.

Kasumi: How’s everyone in the company doing? You must be having it rough with the New Fleur Award going on.

Kazunari: We’re all working hard and coming up with fighting strategies~ The Spring Troupe’s performance was well-received, and our ranking went up.

Muku: We’re a bit anxious, but the Summer Troupe is also going to give it our all!

Kasumi: I see. I’m sure if it’s you guys, all will be fine.

Kasumi: Oh, right. There’s something I wanted to give you, Muku-kun.

Muku: ?

Kasumi: This. It’s a flyer for an upcoming play. The protagonist is a prince, so I thought of you.

Kasumi: It’s a play with a lot of history, and it’s performed with a different cast each year at the National Theater.

Kasumi: I might be jumping the gun here, but I thought it’d be wonderful to see you play a prince on such a big stage.

Muku: N-No, I still have a long way to go before I can perform such an important role…!

Kasumi: That’s not true. I believe you’ve got what it takes to perform there.

Kazunari: You’re saying this cause you know how much experience Muku-kun has gained up till now, right, Kasumi~nu~?

Muku: T-Thank you very much. When you put it like that, it makes me feel a little more confident in myself.

Muku: I’ll check the play out.

Kasumi: Okay. Well then, see you.

[Kasumi walks away]

Muku: …

Muku: (“Audition notice”... I wonder if I’ll also get to perform on such a big stage one day.)

Muku: (But, right now, I’m…)

previous episode | masterpost | next episode

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Only Friends, Episode 8 - Save Me

In which Mew goes on a destructive streak (on himself), Ray is not helping the situation, Top is a sad puppy, Cheum has enough while Sand attempts to again put some boundary with Ray (and failing)

Mew

Well…he truly went into a bender after breaking up with Top. It’s clear he is still devastated by Top’s betrayal and him getting together with Ray is partly revenge, partly because Ray has always been the one person (in his group of friends) who loves him unconditionally, and currently Mew needed the affirmation he is desired and attractive (remember he proclaimed to Ray he think he is “boring and plain” in the bookstore - and Ray immediately replying “You are delectable.”) - yeah, that tells us Mew’s self-esteem has gone down the drain after knowing Top/Ton slept together (recall he kept thinking they got together because he was inexperienced and from his perspective laughing behind his back, we know it’s not true but well Mew judgement is somewhat impaired for now).

So, having Ray who put him at a pedestal and has never said no to him is good for his self-esteem…just terrible for everything else 😫😩…in some way, Mew is using Ray to “gain access” to all the risky behaviours that Ray engages in - getting drunk, smoking, partying daily and trying Coke - notice Ray never “introduce” it to Mew (and I will disagree with Twitter/Tumblr people who said so, because it’s always Mew who initiated it, BUT Ray enables them, also notice Ray was the one who asked whether Mew is sure he wants to try smoking cause it was also Mew who nag him to quit before)…

Similarly, the scene in the bookstore - you can see with flashbacks, Mew is deeply missing Top. And when Ray came over, the conversation led to Mew again being the instigator for the Halloween Party, informing Ray he wants “to get drunk, and party all night long.”

The fact that he couldn’t even bring himself to reciprocate Ray’s declaration of love (and he admits it - “you are the one I should love”) or kiss him in private is also another clear sign that Mew is not over Top. It was only when Top is in front of him, he made a huge scene (partly also driven by him already drunk and high) that he impulsively kisses Ray to prove a point (on a side note, that was a good kiss boys! - so KhaoBook series in 2024 anyone? 🫣)

I’m not sure how much he will spiral further but if he wants to keep his honour student status, well, I guess the next few episodes will tell us whether Top can bring him back to reality - I have hope for this especially because when Mew drunkenly but brokenly told Top “Why must you be an asshole?” before passing out on Top’s shoulder, Top tenderly looked at Mew.

Top

Which brings me to Top. He has truly eaten the humble pie this episode, and I felt sorry for him. Yes, he was (most likely still) arrogant and can be an asshole, but he truly does seem to connect with Mew and loves him. His mistake was to take what Ton said in face value and slept with him due to bruise ego (and I’m glad he told Ton off during the party - gawd the latter still tried to take a jab on Top’s fall from the grace by nastily implying Ray/Mew has slept together many times - firstly so not true cause Mew can’t even kiss Ray in private, and secondly not his business if they did sleep together)

Top looking at Mew concernedly from the outside because he knows the current behaviours are uncharacteristic for the latter (also perhaps a touch of guilt as he is likely aware at some stage he is responsible for Mew going into a downward spiral because of his encounter with Ton)

I applaud Top on him continuously trying to make amend with Mew, discussing the situation with Chuen and also helping out with the Ray situation (because let’s be real, he did not help Ray out for Ray himself, more for Mew/Chuem, although bribing the police force??? 😩🫠🫠🫠🫠… I do not condone that. Also, is it common for rich people to carry chunk of cash to party like that?? Why can’t he help the legal way?? Urgh..don’t mind me, I’m just ranting out loud now)

Anyway, it was sweet of Top to bring Mew back safely to his house and clean him up after the party, but hemm…cuddling and sleeping with Mew after that (yeah, again not a good idea as at the present time Mew has broken up with him and never gave him permission for Top to sleep in the same bed/cuddle with him)

Ray

As much I love Ray (and kudos fo Khaotung who brings this complex, multi-facet individual to life, I also feel if anyone else played him, not many of us will be as emphatic towards him), his actions in this episode, yeah…left me wincing and shaking my head at times.

Ray unfortunately has yet to accept his alcohol/drug abuse is an issue and it’s affecting his relationships with everyone - be it Mew, Sand, Chuen and Boston. It doesn’t help at baseline, he is depressed and a lonely individual, which in turns shape him to be selfish and clinging hard to anyone who showers him with any positive attention.

Mew is one such individual for Ray - the fact Mew was there at the lowest point for him definitely made Ray sees him in rose tinted glasses. Whatever Mew wants and says, Ray will follow (especially when it lines up with what he normally does - the drinking, partying, smoking, drugs etc.) When they are not a couple, it’s easier for Mew to lecture on Ray’s bad behaviour (albeit unsuccessfully), but now with Mew joining in the chaos, Ray’s destructive behaviours are going further into hellhole (I also find it interesting Ray seems so aware he is not first choice for Mew - “At least he let me cross the friend zone line”, “We are seeing if we can work things out” - these 2 sentences when he had the conversation with Sand outside the bar are very telling. Similarly, he didn’t even look surprised when Mew couldn’t say back he loves Ray. It seems Ray consciously chose to be with Mew cause he is the “safer” option when compared to Sand cause he at least knows how Mew will behave towards him while Sand is largely still unknown)

Sand is another person Ray connects deeply. The one person who has time after time help him without any transactional gains. And it’s interesting to note Ray’s destructive behaviours are somehow mellowed/lessened when Sand is around. Sand appears to be Ray moral compass. He genuinely listen to what Sand says (even more than he listen to Mew, although I don’t think Ray recognises this). Ray persistency in seeking out Sand (be it in the bar and uni) is exasperating on Sand behalf who is trying his hardest to put a guard around his heart - but well, Ray has the most effective puppy eyes I have ever seen and he uses this in good effect. Ray himself acknowledges he feels good in himself when around Sand, and he is certainly possessive of Sand’s attention (more so than he was with Mew, in my humble opinion). I think it’s clear now, Ray is truest and most honest when he is high/drunk - because his filter is completely gone. So, him putting himself between Sand and Mr Freddie Mercury, followed by him bluntly saying he knows Sand has feelings for him, and that Sand will never leave him (I also think he is projecting his own feelings towards Sand here..) - yup it’s him telling Sand to be honest about his feelings towards Ray (I'm not justifying Ray behaviour here - he should not have kissed Sand without consent and it was cruel for Ray to bring up Sand feelings out in the open like that - but as we have learn, Ray lashes out when he is angry (also, I think there is a hint of panic on Ray's behalf that Sand will leave him, just like his mom left him and he perceiving his dad abandoning him)

Sand

Sand is truly living up to his moniker of "best boy" ever. He got his heart broken into pieces by Ray when the latter decided to attempt a relationship with Mew. Time and time again he attempts to put a barrier around his heart and set some boundary with Ray - but as we can see, Ray is hard individual (for Sand) to resist. I know a lot of us thinks Sand can do better than Ray - but well, the heart wants what the heart wants, yeah? (also doesn't help that each SandRay scene has the yearning and intimate feel that I can't help root for them - even when they are fighting cause you can see them fighting their attraction here, maybe cause it's played by FK?) - for e.g the scene between SandRay outside the bar, you could tell Sand was holding back tears and his voice break a little, and Ray clocked on it - the latter touched his arm, wanting to stop Sand from going while Sand asking to let go... urghh, my heart breaks from them.

And even after the massive fight between the 2 of them at the party, Sand's first concern when the police busted the scene is to find Ray - knowing the latter will be in further trouble if he is caught with drugs. And Sand, attempting to lie for Ray about the drugs to the police or him pleading the latter to stay still when the police put Ray on a chokehold with a knee on his windpipe...

On a side note, I also find it interesting the difference between how Sand and Mew treats Ray and his risky behaviours. I can't really articulate it properly but Sand seems to recognise Ray needs to take the first step if he wants to change for the better but Sand will be on standby and support him when he does. Mew, on the other hand (until this episode) while also being supportive tends to be more condescending. I think because Mew comes from a stable family, he can't understand at the base level why Ray can't change/stop his destructive behaviours easily.

Btw, I also love SandNick friendship - them bonding on their failed relationships and one-sided loves is just.... 🥺🥺🥺

Boston

Ton is keeping a low profile this episode. He knows he is now the outcast in his group of friends, and they are barely tolerating him. But oh, him drinking alone and looking at Nick's picture on the phone - is that a hint of some feelings towards Nick???

But just as when I thought there is some redeemable quality for Ton... he again prove to be the most consistent character in this series so far. Him nastily jabbing on Top at the party, insinuating Ray/Mew have slept together countless of time???? (urghhh, Ton seriously?)

Or him leaving with Atom (his brother's friend!!!! - I cringed at the end of episode 8) and from the preview of the next episode - yup it appears he did the deed with Atom (look, I'm not saying Atom did not play a role in this - that boy was clearly hitting on Ton and despite Chuem warning Atom, he made the conscious decision to leave the party with Ton). But the whole situation is just terrible (and if Ton has some decency, he would have decline Atom's invitation but oh well...we all know what Ton is like). I can already tell the whole Atom/Ton situation will also implode with Atom as the casualty.

Nick

Well, at least his working career is on the right path because his love life with Ton has sunk to the bottom of the ocean. Him approaching and attempting to make amend with Ton at the party - urghhh, again the heart wants what the heart wants, yes? - But I hope it gives some closure for Nick to move on with his life and put Ton firmly in the past (I'm actually not holding my breath on this, but we will see).

And now Nick with Dan (Papang's character) - well, that's a whole new dynamic that will be interesting to see. It's clear Dan is interested in Nick, but hemmmm....I'm not sure having a relationship with your own intern is morally ok due to the power difference between the 2 of them (it's giving me the ABAB vibe except more serious???). Also, Dan seems to have a daddy kink (I mean he asked Nick to call him "Daddy Dan" if the next episode preview is correct), and err, I'm not sure I'm into that.

Namchuem and April

Poor Chuem is at her wits end with the group of boys this week. For obvious reasons she is barely communicating with Ton. And now with Mew on a destructive streak, it seems she has lost the one stable force in their circle of friendship. So, I am not surprised she teams up with Top to get back Mew on the right path.

Some people in Twitter/Tumblr may say Chuem barely cares for Ray - I think she does, but Chuem is self-aware she cannot control Ray's habits. And up until this episode, she appears to rely on Mew to do the “handling” of Ray’s bad habits. Could she have done more? Sure, but also remember most of us in our early 20s can barely handle our own problems let alone someone with complex issues like Ray (and this is again why someone like Sand is so special - despite him being the same age as the everyone else, he appears more mature/grounded, doesn’t take shit from anyone and genuinely seems to love Ray in all his drunken mess). Also, personally, I don’t think Cheum is as close to Ray (when compared to Mew), and if Mew could barely control Ray, what hopes does she has. And her asking Top to help out Ray because he doesn't want Ray to go into jail (well, if that is not her caring for Ray on some level, I'll eat my metaphoric hat)

So, her bursting out in anger and ranting her frustrations towards Ray, I don't blame her at all- because it is true, in their circle of friendship, Ray has always prioritise Mew with Chuem most of the time as an afterthough. I'm not sure whether she blames Ray for Mew behaviours (and if she does - that is one thing I will say she shouldn't be doing cause all of Mew downward spirals are initiated by Mew and Mew alone, except Ray is there as an enabler)

Anyway, I'm glad Chuem has April - cause the latter, she is a GEM. Supportive and truly the best GF anyone can ask. Also, some wise word from April when she pointed out the boys are adults and can make their own decisions (even if those decisions leads to catastrophic consequences). They as friends can try and advise, but ultimately, it will be up to the boys to accept said recommendations or not.

As usual, this episode has left me with so many feelings and emotions. The above is me again just getting my thoughts straight before the next episode. It seems episode 9 will be "fluffier" but if we are getting SandRay reconciliation, I want Ray to at least have a proper conversation with Mew before doing so.

(Again kudos to all the cast members who you can tell act their hearts out - my personal favourite moments include SandRay conversation outside the bar and when Mew brokenly told Top "why must you be an asshole?" - cause both First and Book conveyed their heartbroken state through their eyes in those scenes superbly well)

[dream-meister-translations]

DREAM MEISTER & THE RECOLLECTED BLACK FAIRY

OBORO - VOICE COLLECTION

━

"I thought of reading something, but it seems I haven't stocked up on any new books. Would you take me to a bookstore?" 

"Are you seeking to borrow my "power"? Unfortunately, I am quite powerless. I won't be of much help."

"...Novels? They're pointless. Simply unraveling fictional events. It doesn't benefit anyone."

"As you can see, my enthusiasm has all dried up. I'd appreciate it if we could keep this conversation short."

"Hm? Do you require my knowledge?"

"If you have any troubles, feel free to share them."

"Let's rely on intellect for this."

"Victory achieved. Is that enough for you?"

"Ugh...Have I been a hindrance?"

"A reward, you say? It's best if you take it with you."

"Wandering aimlessly will only lead to exhaustion. It's essential to move with some degree of efficiency."

"Hmph...Exploration, is it? I understand, but don't expect too much."

"Hm? I sense Kai's presence from this vicinity...Perhaps something related to him has been left behind?"

"What's this oppressive presence...? ...Ah, is this Kai's presence...?"

"Finally, it's over...This was a laborious task. I think I'll take a break for a little while."

"It's been a while since I've been made to work this hard. Please make good use of the results of our exploration."

"Hmm...I can still sense Kai's presence. It might not mean much, but there must be some significance to it."

"New knowledge has been acquired." 

"It seems I've gained a bit more power. Although I still can't compare to the others..."

"Haven't I told you? Don't expect too much from me. I'm sure you wouldn't want to be disappointed, would you?"

"Knowledge is key. The more you retain, the more you acquire. However, gaining power as a Black Fairy isn't that simple."

"Novels are nothing more than endless lies and fantasies...It's because of such things that I..."

"There aren't many ways I can be of help...Nevertheless, you choose to keep me by your side."

"Why do you want to involve me...? You have nothing to gain from it."

"Life is limited, and it must be used meaningfully."

"It seems you have some knowledge, but from my perspective, you still have much to learn. Continue to strive."

"Excessive expectations aren't beneficial...But I want to meet your expectations. Your hopes of me. That is the truth."

-

KAI : Hey, Oboro, there's a dried fruit mentioned in this book, but I'm having trouble with the drying process. Can you help me out?

OBORO : Before relying on others, did you make an effort to research it yourself? I won't lend my wisdom to a slacker like you.

-

MATEO : So, this book is full of...That. And this, um, this one...?

OBORO : This isn't a picture book, Mateo. It is more of a field guide. If you're interested, I might let you borrow it.

-

OBORO : It seems like babysitting, doesn't it? It's good that you're not getting lost this time, but I hope I can count on you for exploration.

MATEO : Understood! Power, skill, knowledge...Mateo, do it all!

-

MATEO : Over here! No, over here! Over here? Oboro, where are you?

OBORO : Mateo, if you don't know the way, it's best to stay quiet and follow closely behind me. I'll lead the way.

-

OBORO : Hah...Huff...Babysitting Mateo has made me feel even more exhausted...But, I'm relieved we made it back safely.

MATEO : Oboro, are you tired? What should I...Should I smile more? Will that help?

-

PLATINUM : Hey, Professor Oboro, do you happen to know how to make rare medicines, which could potentially be sold for a very high price...?

OBORO : Platinum, don't be fooled. My knowledge is at your disposal, but medicine isn't meant for making money.

-

PLATINUM : Let's get moving Professor Oboro. You're a smart one, so you must know that time is money, right?

OBORO : You are rather cash-minded, aren't you? Exploring this vast place is a bit of a burden for me, you see.

-

PLATINUM : Oh...You really don't have much stamina, Professor Oboro. Don't push yourself too hard and collapse, okay?

OBORO : ...It's probably your fault for needlessly making me walk in your search for money...! Hah...Huff...Anyway...I'm going to rest now.

-

HEINKEL : Oboro, what kind of book is that? I find it difficult to believe it would be some lowbrow novel, especially coming from you. 

OBORO : The book I'm reading is a medical textbook. If it bothers you, I can refrain from reading it in your presence...?

-

HEINKEL : Before we begin our exploration - Oboro, if you're not feeling well, don't hesitate to let us know.

OBORO : Hmph, in that case, you better just pray it doesn't happen. 

-

OBORO : Exploration really takes a toll on one's physical and mental strength. More than you'd imagine...

HEINKEL : Even though you got tired, you never gave up on your duties. Thank you, Oboro.

-

OBORO : My lack of stamina aside, Chitose, you're not exactly a powerhouse, are you? Both of us collapsing wouldn't be a laughing matter.

CHITOSE : Hohoho~ Indeed~ Let's make sure not to cause any unnecessary worries. Let's do our best within our own reasonable limits. 

-

OBORO : Hah...Hah...Huff...You are breathing perfectly fine. Chitose, it seems I underestimated you...

CHITOSE : Hohoho~ There was no need to be concerned. I enjoy going for walks. I'm used to this kind of thing.

-

CHITOSE : Oboro, how about we both congratulate each other on our return with a round of tea. We can report our findings later.

OBORO : Hmph. Well...That suggestion isn't awful. It wouldn't hurt to take just a moment of rest.

[darling-i-read-it]

A Good Story

Harry Gardner x fem!reader

Word Count: 3.1k 

Warnings: slow burn affair, general creepy vibes ig? Lol, mentions of grief, harry being kinda shity but that’s what you’re here for <3 

Author’s Note: I felt like I should've maybe written more for this but I thought the ominous ending was kinda cool!! Lemme know what you think and I hope you enjoy <3

Requested by anon, Hello again, dear. Hope I'm not being a bother. I was the Anon with the Harry request from earlier and I can't thank you enough for taking the time to reply, that means the world to me 💗 The idea I had is for Harry x fem Reader who's an aspiring but struggling director. Their platonic relationship quickly derails into a full-blown affair. Feel free to take complete liberty of the plot and write it I'm any way you'd like. Andsty, fluffy, nsfw etc, anything you feel like, I know I'll love it regardless. Thank you for your kindness and for gracing us Finn lovers with your wonderful works ❤ 

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You had heard about Provincetown. You saw the guide books, the summer town that was only alive when the clouds moved aside to allow for the sun to touch the ground. Any beach town could be interesting in that sense, that it’s beautiful and secluded and inspiring. But that wasn’t what compelled you to come. It was the whispers that bled out from the town. There’s a certain charm in small town secrets that only rotate within the city lines. There’s something else entirely to be said about the small town secrets that reach through the online forums, the cities surrounding them. 

You heard about it through a bar you frequented. Frequented might be a strong word. A bar you went to on occasion when writers block hit you hard and you couldn't’ look at another camera. There were secrets about the people there, those who came when it wasn’t sunny any longer, those who stayed and silently sucked up the resources around them. 

You arrived in Provincetown a week after Harry Gardner and his family. You moved in right next to him, down the street in a smaller house. You were keenly aware you had gotten it for a killer deal. Something was wrong with this town and it might just be the inspiration you needed to really push past being an ‘aspiring’ director and being a ‘successful’ one. 

“Lots of newbies,” Austin Sommers announced. He leaned back in his chair at the Muse, a local bar. You were trying to get your feet on the ground still by searching for a place to work while you figured things out. You figured trying the bar first would be helpful. 

You heard Austin speak but didn’t know the words were directed at you. You gazed at the menu, reading off the special board. The lack of routine in your days was throwing you off. Even if there was no job here, you needed a drink. 

“I said,'' Austin tried again, “lots of newbies.” He walked up to the bar stool and sat down beside where you were standing. You turned to him, realizing that he had been speaking to you.

“What do you mean?”

“Well you’re new. I’ve never seen you here before. Just a week ago a new family moved in. This is gonna become a real stellar town if we keep bringing in the riff raff.” His voice was surprisingly not judgemental. You pursed your lips, deciding to ignore him. You looked to the bartender who gave you a gentle smile. 

“Hi! Are you guys hiring?” 

“Oh not another bartender,” Austin murmured. “You’re not here to write?” The bartender gave Austin a narrow look. 

“Not right now. But I know there’s a place down the road that is. I can give you the address if you want?” He was cleaning glasses, waning past the long nights when little people came in. 

“That would be great actually.” 

“It’s a little bookstore. It’s not very busy but the owner's wife just passed away or something and they need someone to clean the shop when he can’t.” 

“That’s awful.”

“Well his loss is your gain,” the bartender murmured. He turned around to grab a piece of paper. Austin leaned against the counter. 

“Pretty brutal huh?” You finally turned to look at him. The haircut didn’t suit him but you liked his striped shirt and long necklace. 

“Can I help you with something?” 

“I’m just giving you a warning sweetheart. From one person to another, this is not the town you wanna stay in.” You narrowed your eyes at him, trying to read if he was joking or not. 

“The brochures say it really lightens up in the summer.” 

“It’s not the summer isn’t it?” 

He unnerved you with his ominous warnings so you turned back to the bartender. He handed you a piece of paper. 

“Where are you staying?” the man asked. Austin leaned in intently but you didn’t feel comfortable giving your address and street to either men. 

“Around,” you promised. 

“You should meet up with the family that just moved in. Maybe you could help each other.”

“Are you by yourself?” Austin pursued. You gave him a narrow look. 

“Who’s the family?”

“Gardner’s. On the water, in the south part of town.” You nodded. You had no intention of seeking them out but wanted to leave this conversation. 

“Thank you for the place.” The bartender nodded. Austin looked disappointed but you didn’t feel too bad. You backed away and then walked out, sad you hadn’t gotten your drink.

-

You ended up going to the bookshop and the man didn’t even require a resume. He mumbled something about opiate addicts taking away all of the good workers in this town and he needed new blood anyway. You guessed he was still mourning his wife but he didn’t mention her. 

And that is where you met Harry Gardner for the first time. 

You were busy rearranging some shelves that had been well used when he came in. The bartender wasn’t lying when he said the place wasn’t busy. You were lucky to have twenty customers your entire shift. But it paid the bills while you worked up some inspiration. 

You heard the bell ring and the door swing open with a gust of wind. You stood up, putting on a smile to greet whoever it was. You peeked around a shelf and saw his curious gaze. You walked around it, carrying a stack of books in your arms. 

“Good morning!” you said with a smile. “How can I help you?”

He met your eyes softly. He was unmistakably handsome with hair falling over his face in strands.

“Hi! I was just coming to browse,” he said. You nodded. 

“Well I’ll be around if you need anything.”

He turned into a small section. You turned back to your shelf and started to put the books back. You had gentle music playing on the speaker by the counter. You returned to it in case he needed anything. He came out from between some stacks, already holding something. 

“Do you like it here?” he questioned. “The job, I mean.” It was sudden but you shrugged. 

“I just moved here last week,” you admitted. “But so far so good.” His eyes lit up. He had been looking at the books before but now you had his full attention. 

“Me too. Well, two weeks ago,” he said. You raised an eyebrow. 

“You wouldn't’ happen to be a Gardner would you?” He eyed you suspiciously. 

“How do you know that?” “Word travels fast. Some guy at the Muse mentioned your family.” He nodded slowly. 

“That tracks.” You shrugged. He approached the counter. He set down an old used copy of a book you had never heard of. “My names Harry.” 

“Y/N,” you offered. “How are you liking the surprisingly dreary town of Province?” He smiled slyly. 

“So far not great. Have you run into any of the addicts yet?” 

“I’ve not ran into any, no.” 

“I recommend not.” He looked tired. “My wife and daughter ran into one when they were on a walk the first day we were here.” 

“Not good?” “No, no it wasn’t.” You nodded, shivering. Drug addiction was no joke. It was a disease but it was dangerous. It was hard not to be scared sometimes. “What are you doing out here?”

“I am a director. Aspiring. I was hoping for some inspiration. So far I’ve found a lot of cold beaches and weird people.” He chuckled knowingly. 

“I’m actually a writer myself. I’m trying to get out the pilot episode of a script, that's why we came out here.” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Intrigue. What kind of things do you write about Harry Gardner?” 

“All kinds of things,” he promised. “Whatever I feel like.”

“A true writer.” You smiled gently. He met it with the same generosity. He wasn’t sure if it was because of certain circumstances but he liked you regardless. “What are you reading?” 

“I don’t know yet. Cover looked nice and I need to read something.”

“You didn’t bring any books?”

“My wife doesn’t really like clutter,” he admitted. Your eyes went wide. 

“Brave of her.” You rung up the book. “$9.55 for you today.” He handed you his card. He tried not to think of what Doris would say to him, spending money on something they didn’t really need, especially with money being tight. He’d like to think he’s worked hard enough for a small treat and a nice conversation. “Want your receipt?” 

“No, that's okay.” 

“Well it was nice to meet you Harry.” He grabbed his book. 

“It was nice to meet you too.” 

He was smiling as he left. You were left wondering how much he liked his wife. 

-

There was not enough to do in Provincetown. You could go to the bar filled with weirdos. You could take a walk and run into someone who looked like they were from Nosferatu. Or you could daydream about the guy who you saw walking down the street sometimes and wonder how he was doing. 

Harry came back only once after that and it was a normal interaction. You were fine with it being just that. Normal. You would admire him and his family from afar, wondering what it looked like inside of his house. You had no actual intentions of ‘seducing him’ or whatever the shitty mom dramas were doing. You let yourself feel feelings but also didn’t actively seek them out. 

That was until he came back a third time and asked you to get lunch. He explained that he wanted to pick your brain about the ideas you had and you were all too happy to take your break. He took you to a small diner nearby on the small strip of businesses. 

You sat by the window, watching as a couple of cars drove by. 

“So you came from New York?” you questioned. He nodded. “What’s that like?” 

“About as you expect,” he admitted. 

“Broadway every Sunday? Seeing the Statue of Liberty from your window? Eating hot dogs for breakfast?” 

“Okay maybe not that,” he said, laughing. You laughed with him. 

“Alright then give me something Harry. I only have such a long break.” 

“I’ve never been to Broadway,” he started. “There are so many people. It’s kind of shocking walking around here and being alone.”

“It’s eerie.” 

“It is.” He shrugged. He was leaning forward, his hands wrapped around his cup. “This whole town is eerie.” You nodded. You glanced out the window. It was a cloudy day. You were getting used to them. 

“It feels so…hidden. Like it’s gonna eat itself whole.” You shook your head. “How’s your family adjusting?” He glanced down and then back up again. 

“Not great.” 

“No?” 

“Doris…Doris doesn’t like it here,” he admitted. “But it’s helping my writing so much.” 

“What does Doris do?”

“Interior design.”

“Is she good at it?” He gave you a dumb look. 

“She’s my wife.”

“That’s not what I asked.” He didn’t answer, which was an answer. You nodded slowly, thinking about all the interior design places she could do here. There weren't a lot that came to mind. “How’s the kid?”

“Alma is…she’s a lot.” He shook his head. “You should probably be getting back.” You nodded. You should probably get back.”

“I haven’t finished my fries,” you complained. “Couple more minutes. Sorry I brought them up.” He shook his head. 

“It’s okay. It just kind of feels like another life.” 

You hummed in agreement as you ate a fry. 

“You need to get out more Harry Garnder.” He chuckled. 

“Alright alright.” You leaned back in your chair. “Do you write?” 

“Sometimes but mostly I just visualize,” you admitted. “But I need to start somewhere.” He nodded. 

“I guess I do the opposite.” 

“Don’t you visualize to write?” 

“I guess so. I guess you’re right.” He smiled. 

“You got anything I could read?” 

“I don’t think you’d like them,” he admitted. You raised an eyebrow. 

“How do you know what I’d like?” you accused. His smile remained but there was a sly tug at his lips. 

“I don’t. You’re right.”

“Lesson number one. I’m always right.” 

-

You and Harry frequented the small diner a couple of times in the following weeks. The meet ups became less courtesy and more nefarious in nature. You already had the vibe from him that he had ill intentions and you had never turned him down. It was just nice to talk to him. He never did anything. He showed no physical inclination of anything, never crossing the imaginary boundaries. But the topics got deeper and more nuanced. Conversations about life, writing, themes. Questions about things he hadn't talked about in years. Things that you promised yourself you would keep close to your chest. 

Until that one winter night. You usually get lunch during your breaks but slowly the times had gotten later. It was nothing said out loud. It was all habit at that point, never questioning the ordeal until it was over. What were you to him? What was he to you? 

It was cold, as it often was. He was wearing a thick black jacket, his cheeks a rosy red. You were also bundled up in your typical choice of coverings. You sat across from him, the air in the diner fluid with the weather outside. 

It was dinner time. He should be with his family, you thought and then disregarded it. 

“Where does Doris think you are?” you asked after ordering. You were both still wearing copious amounts of layers to combat the freezing temperatures. 

“The bar,” he explained. “I’ll probably go there afterwards,” he admitted. You pursed your lips. 

“Frequent the Muse?” 

“I try not to, unless it makes an alibi.” 

“That sounds like you’re planning my murder Harry,” you joked. He smiled slyly. He had a cup of coffee in his hands he wasn’t drinking. You wondered if it was more of a hand warmer. 

“Trust me, you’re the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

Admissions like that confused you. His actions never seemed to follow through with his words. 

“What, you haven’t made more friends here yet?”

“I don’t have time.” 

“You could always cancel one of our lunches.”

“No,” he said, far too quickly. 

“I won’t be offended Har.” He shook his head. His eyes were stagnant down at the steaming cup. 

“I like seeing you.” He said that like it was an illicit affair. You shook your head. 

“I like seeing you too. You need to branch out.”

“You’re not my mother,” he quipped but it felt more defeated. “I’m sorry.” He shivered as the door opened. The bell rang, indicating a customer, and in with them came the cold. “It’s freezing. You aren’t wearing enough layers.” 

‘You’re wearing just one,” you told him. 

“Alright, the usuals…” Your waitress interrupted the train of thought and put down your food. The warmth of it was nice. It was odd to you that you had a usual. You were a small town girl now, even if you didn’t believe it yourself. 

“Thank you so much.”

“Thank you.”

You and Harry’s voices overlapped in gratitude as you looked down at your plate. The sun was setting. 

“She doesn’t mind you don’t stay for dinner?” you asked because you didn’t know what else to do but push. 

“No,” he admitted. He didn’t talk about her much. He talked about his sixth grade trauma but never the wife and child. Was it guilt? Disinterested? Or just general indifference? “Can you sit over here? Maybe we could share some warmth.” You didn’t make a face or anything. You got up and sat on his side. 

You brought your plate over and took a bite, like everything was normal. The sides of your bodies were flush. You had touched him before but not so much at once. He glanced at you. 

“Thank you,” he breathed.

“Anytime,” you promised. You swallowed your bite and looked up at him. Your eyes were so close. You could practically see his train of thought. The small diner, the married man, the same booth. 

“This is quite cliche isn’t it?” he questioned. He leaned against the wall but he was still touching you. 

“Yes, yes it is.” You moved your food around. “But I think cliches are used for a reason. They’re such a generalized feeling but have lost their meaning. Isn’t that sad?” 

“It is.” 

Kiss me, you thought. There would never be another time like this one. He wanted to do it and he couldn’t hold back much longer, you knew it. You looked at him through your lashes, begging him silently. 

When he did kiss you, you wondered if he had read your mind. That’s how well he seemed to know you. The kiss was gentle and unassuming. No one would guess the emotions lying within. You grabbed his hand, holding it. This didn’t even feel like public. This felt like your own personal world, like the one you could have had before everything was so different. Before things were so wrong. 

When he pulled away he had no sense of regret over his eyes. You accepted it, the guilt, to come quickly. It was like he had temporary amnesia for the whole life he led. To the reason he was here. 

“This would make a good story,” he whispered, laughing gently. You rolled your eyes at the break of the moment. 

“Yes. It would.”