#you have the honor of being kicking off the fest

[cricketnationrise]

3:15am, anywhere in the Brownstone, Alex or Henry (or both) follow your bliss. The vibes are “Sleep Please Come To Me” by Matthew Barber — I’m not projecting, you’re projecting. As spicy or not spicy as you feel like. xoxo MJ/kiwiana(-writes)

First of all - thank you for introducing me to Matthew Barber! How does he get his voice to do that?

Second of all - mwah I love you, I wrote you some words about it

want your own ficlet? read more here.

❤️🤍💙❤️🤍💙

3:15am, the brownstone

For all it’s the City That Never Sleeps, New York is quiet outside Henry’s window. It’s possible that the bulletproof glass windows are responsible for the unnatural hush, but Henry wouldn’t be surprised if somehow the entire metropolis got together to go to bed early on purpose, just to taunt him. Just to leave him alone with his thoughts. Just to really highlight how bad Henry’s insomnia is—and how much worse his insomnia has gotten even after finally being allowed to leave the palace.

It feels like some sort of cosmic punishment, a cruel joke: Henry gets out from under Gran’s immediate influence, gets to put a bloody ocean between himself and his biggest stressors, gets to choose how he lives for the first time in his life—and he still can’t sodding sleep. 

Henry’s been actively trying to sleep since one in the morning, and it's sometime after three now. He’s tried his usual tricks of Bake Off and chamomile, even tried reading Dickens of all people. Normally, something either works by now, or he’s wired enough to realize sleep won’t come at all and he’ll grab his notebook and write until the sun comes up. Tonight, Henry is stuck in this heinous limbo—too awake to sleep, too tired to push through to morning. The real trouble is, Henry knows what would work. 

Or who would, rather.

But that someone is clear across Brooklyn, tucked into his own apartment, out of Henry’s reach.

Intellectually, Henry knows it’s a good idea for him and Alex to live alone for a bit before moving in together. It will benefit them both to figure out who they are when they’re alone, away from their families and roommates—who they are as single entities. But it does gall at times like this, when Henry knows that if Alex was spending the night, he’d already be asleep. 

If Alex had been here tonight, they would have eaten pasta on the couch, done the dishes side by side, sneaking light, loving touches between bites and passing clean dishes off to be dried with a kiss. If Alex had been here tonight, they would have retreated to the study for a few hours, Alex to his readings and case studies and papers, Henry to his plans for the shelter, his manuscript, his email updates for Bea, and the poetry he wants to surprise Alex with for his birthday.

If Alex had come to the brownstone tonight, Henry would have pulled Alex away from his laptop with a gentle hand in his hair, a tender kiss against his neck, a murmured plan of putting his mouth somewhere distinctly lower. Alex would have tripped in his haste to pull Henry up the stairs, would have thrown Henry’s good jumper clear across the room, desperate to get his hands on the dip of Henry’s waist, would have covered Henry’s body with his own, and met every movement of Henry’s lips with matching passion and love.

If Alex was spending the night, Henry would be curled around his boyfriend right now, soaking up his warmth, pressed so close not even a hair could get between them. If Alex was here, their legs would be tangled together, he’d be able to match his breathing to Alex’s, he’d be able to feel Alex’s heartbeat beneath his hand. If Alex was here, Henry could pull Alex on top of him, could let himself be covered and surrounded by his boyfriend, could drift to sleep with the faint smell of cinnamon in the air.

If Alex was here tonight—

There’s footsteps on the stairs, a creak of the floorboards on the landing, and then his bedroom door eases open. Henry’s brief tension melts away as a shaft of moonlight reflects off a chain necklace he knows better than the back of his own hand — the key and ring strung through it glinting in the pale blue light.

[fictionfixations]

white rabbit fest (part 3)

bruhs first time being called an honor student

look at himmm D: (he gets the white eyed shock face when falling back down)

OOP (i'll have you know i keep messing up because im either distracted by visuals, or trying to take a SS)

(also when it showed epel going in a loop with an angry look on his face over and over was LMFAO)

it was here i remembered about the clock and grim having set the wrong time i wrote down my thoughts at the time (which was around the time i thought 'i should take screenshots')

"wait wait but remember that grim set silver's clock thing to like 6 pm?? and then i think to 16:00 which is 4 PM??? what time is it in game?"

hehehehe

imagine it was voiced though

d'aww

GRRRR (as a person who impulsively wrote a fic after finishing part two, where Yuu punched the delinquent in the face, i would say yeah they got their just desserts here and i dont really think i have much to add.)

i burst out laughing

woah deuce that sounds wrong out of context

heheheheeh you just see the cauldron drop on screen

WAIT HE JUST SUMMONS PEOPLES CAULDRONS??

oh precious D:

OOP

bruh cant even lie that he isnt doing it intentionally fr he just kicking and deuce is dodging

heres the shocked face. now we have all of them except ortho's because i am slow

I--

another shocked face

after this he did another one of those like smug grins or something looking at the camera but i dont have a pic of that

WE. LOVE. DEUCE'S. MOM!!!! 👏👏👏

shes so sweet

LOOK AT HIMMMM HE LOOKS SO SMART

(also the black bunnies got disqualified)

LMFAOOO

off topic but i just realized the delinquent leader's headband has black/grey ears. im blind apparently.

[thesandsofelsweyr]

REMEMBER JASON TODD?

《 READ ON AO3 》

Joker reminisces to Batman about one of the happiest years of his life: the year he spent breaking Jason Todd.

《RATING》 Mature 《WORDS》 1,865

《CHARACTERS》 Joker, Jason Todd/Robin (Arkhamverse)

《TROPES》 Hurt No Comfort, Jason Todd Needs a Hug

《WARNINGS》 Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage, Torture, Mindfuck

《NOTES》

I somehow got possessed by a death-worshipping garbage clown and wrote this Jason Todd torture-fest 🃏

If you enjoy the read, please consider reblogging 💚

《 ALSO ON AO3 》 (comments & kudos there are much appreciated!)

Remember Jason Todd? Ugh, what a whiner. Always complaining… We’re both better off without that loser.

I gotta confess though, Bats. Screwing around with his little-kid mind, digging around in his grey matter, stirring it up until Toddy made me look almost sane—that was the happiest I’d been in a long, long time. I’d thank the boy for that, if his brains weren’t splattered all over the basement of Arkham, huhuhu.

Ahh, the memories. I tortured that poor kid for nearly a year. Shattered his ankle, knocked out a few teeth, yanked out a few more, broke a few ribs—well, probably all of his ribs, after it was all said and done. Let’s face it, that pretty red armor of his could only withstand so many beatings before it started wearing down and losing its Bat-tested, Bat-approved effectiveness. Near the end the boy was practically begging me to take it off of him! But, hmm, now that I think of it, that was probably more about his shame over being such a miserable embarrassment to his Batdad and less about its ineffectiveness when I was bashing his skull in with my trusty, rusty crowbar.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yes! I even invited a few of my fellow inmates down to take some shots at the little punk who’d terrorized them at Batman’s side. Man oh man, did those guys hate your jilted sidekick or what? I found myself a teensy-bit envious of all the fun they were having with the kid, especially after seeing Bane slam Toddy’s body into that concrete foundation so hard that I’m pretty sure he left a Robin-shaped dent.

Oh Batsy, you should’ve seen our boy’s face! I’m still kicking myself for not including a photo with your consolation prize. The video I sent you just didn’t do him justice. Your enemies collaborated on a masterpiece, they really did. Vibrant reds and pinks, rich purples, blacks, and blues; so battered and broken, his features all askew—Picasso himself would be in awe of their bloody canvas. They must’ve broken his beak at least a dozen times. By the time they were through with him, you wouldn’t even have recognized the little guy.

But c’mon, be honest. We’ve been buds for so long, you and I. You can trust me with anything—Clown’s honor. Tell me, did you even try to find the kid? I never bought the “World’s Greatest Detective” charade, but you gotta admit Batsy, I made it pretty easy for you. I stashed your Boy Blunder in the most obvious place I could think of. Now don’t get me wrong, I don’t blame you for wanting to delete ol’ Jason from your history. He was a real piece of work, fighting me tooth and nail every chance he got, spitting on my hospitality and me. More of a “rabid dog” than a Robin, if I do say so myself. And that mouth of his, ugh! His mother would thank me for the beatings I gave him if she heard half the things he said to me. A real blight on the house of Bat, that one. This new Robin of yours seems more in line with your legacy. Maybe I’ll get my hands on him someday, tenderize him like I did Toddy, huhu.

Well, whatever your reasons, you gave me ample time to get my creative juices flowing. I’d been itching to try out some new ideas that had been floating around my noggin. I’m sure you’re familiar with the Rack. Sadly, I wasn’t able to procure that particular device for our little bird’s cage, but I’ve always been good at improvising. I read somewhere about this rather nasty technique they used during that delightful period known as the Inquisition. Ahh, the good ole days… when torturing people was a paid profession.

With the help of my pal Boles, we tied the boy’s arms behind his back then strung him up by the wrists. Some Arkham orderlies were kind enough to provide me with some weights, which I tied to his ankles. Must’ve been painful because that was the loudest I’d heard the boy squeal since he dropped in my lap! The pitiful thing was wriggling and writhing like a worm on a hook. I left him dangling like that for a few hours since he seemed to enjoy it so much. Tehehe.

That little device of mine ripped his arms clean out of their sockets, yet the bird still refused to break. He was as defiant as ever, cursing at me between sobs. Talk about loyalty. He was ready to die for you. How do you inspire that kind of devotion from these brats? It’s the car, right? Gotta be that fancy car of yours. Hmm, I should get me a Jokermobile of my own someday. Anyway, Junior wasn’t the sharpest Bat-tool in the Bat-shed. Six months of suffering and he was still convinced you were coming to rescue him. I tried to tell him that you’d moved on with your life, found yourself a new partner who wasn’t such a loser, but he refused to believe me. We’d reached an impasse.

But then—here’s the best part of the story, ooo it gives me chills just thinking about it—then you gave me a gift. You actually did replace the kid with a new one. BWAHAHAHAHA, now that’s my brand of cruelty, Bats—I always knew you had it in ya! After everything I’d done to that poor boy, all it took was a photograph to break your bird into a million little pieces. Yes Batsy, a photo of you and his replacement gallivanting around Gotham, saving the city from crazy men like me.

Oh how he bawled after I showed him that photo! And that was even before I beat him senseless with his favorite crowbar. I pressed that photo into his palm before I left him bleeding on the floor of his cage, and, God love 'em, the dumb kid was still begging for his Bat-daddy to come save him from the evil Clown. “Please forgive me, Batman. I tried to be the partner you wanted, I swear I did. I’m so sorry I disobeyed you. Please don’t let him punish me again. I’ll be a good boy for you, I just wanna come home. Wah-wah-wah, boo-hoo-hoo.” If only I had a heart, it would’ve been broken by his pathetic pleas. But I don’t, so I kept beating him for good measure.

Wee Todders was much more pliable after it finally sank into that thick skull of his that you’d abandoned him. I gotta be honest with you, Bats, you made it so easy for me to make him hate you after that, it almost felt like cheating. Still a rootin’ tootin’ good time though. For me at least. Can’t speak for our dearly departed boy toy.

No wonder you dumped his half of the dynamic duo on my doorstep. Talk about rough edges! Took some blood, sweat, and tears (his, not mine) but I eventually sanded him down and hollowed him out; sculpted him into a partner in crime worthy of the Clown Prince of Crime. Had to teach him some manners first, though. Clearly Emily Post wasn’t included in your crime fighting curriculum. Did no one bother to teach the child any words beyond the four-letter variety? Well, I trained him to address me properly: “yes sir”, “no sir”, “please don’t hurt me sir”—that sort of thing. I find that negative reinforcement works best when it comes to naughty little boys like him: electrocution, sensory deprivation, barbed wire bondage, blunt force trauma, starvation, force-feeding, puncture wounds, power tools, waterboarding, acid trips, acid burns, regular burns, stabbings, stranglings, even good ole fashioned paddlings. By the time I was done with the brat I had him thanking me for yanking out his fingernails with red-hot pincers. 

Jason was some of my finest work to date, if I do say so myself. I transformed your rejected Robin into a perfect pet. The boy was mine, body and soul, but I wanted to make sure he never forgot who he belonged to, who made him who he truly was, made him realize that potential you tried to snuff out. Let me tell you, he was none too happy about being branded like a bull. You’d think the kid’d be more grateful after all the time I spent hunting down a J-shaped branding iron just for him. He didn’t carry on about it for long though. By that point just the sight of my toybox had him cowering in a corner, shivering and whimpering like a kicked puppy with his tail between his legs. 

Speaking of puppies… I even had a collar made for my darling boy, in case my signature on his sweet cheek wasn’t enough. A red leather collar to match that red leather getup. What an adorable sight that was! Him, bruised and scarred from head to toe, down on all fours, staring up at me with those blown out baby blues, full of tears and fear, and dare I say, even affection. That poor kid’s psyche was so twisted by the end that he was clinging to me, clutching at my suit, begging me not to abandon him like you did. Hil-ari-ous! Bless his widdle heart, he was such a good boy by then. I rarely had to punish him but it was just so dang fun I couldn’t resist. I did so well with the little laddy, it got me thinking maybe Harley and I should have a few tykes of our own for me to abuse. But nah, you seem to have so many to spare, I’ll just stick to your brood. Lord knows I don’t want to get saddled with child support—oh the horror!

We had some good times, y’know? Little Toddy-woddy was like a son to me, he really was. He hated you so much it made me one proud papa. It’s a shame I had to put him out to pasture with a bullet through his brain, but he was becoming such a bore. He just didn’t scream as much as he used to—that collapsed lung of his probably had something to do with that. And he was so obedient, so submissive, so utterly desperate to please me… (yawns) If I wanted a vegetable, I would’ve made him a vegetable. This is a nut house after all. Got all the tools I need for a lobotomy right here at home. No, I wanted that ball of wildfire, that feral foul-mouthed urchin I fell in love with! I guess since I’m being honest here, I have only myself to blame. I suppose it’s a lesson to learn for my future bird boy endeavors—you can’t make an omelette without breaking some eggs (and legs) after all.

Welp, no use crying over spilled brain matter! If it’s any consolation to you, my pointy-eared pal, I’ll never forget the kid you gave me and that magical year we spent together. No really, I have a jar full of teeth and fingernails to remember him by! hehehehehehehehe 

[folieadeuxserver]

Folie à Deux’s next creator challenge, In Every World, is fast approaching! From May 22nd through May 28th, we’ll be celebrating the Hannibal Extended Universe with daily creation prompts (listed below).

The fest is also being run on Ao3 and twitter! Tag us and use #FADserver when posting your fills. Want to brainstorm or chat about your ideas? Join our Hannibal & HEU discord server

Challenge Rules

All content & creation mediums accepted

No minimums/maximums

Works must feature 1+ character from a non-Hannibal HEU work (RPF counts)

Use the daily prompt (loose interpretation welcome!)

Late entries accepted

Day 1 (5/22): Major Pairings 

We kick off our celebration with the relationships we know and love! Create something for a major pairing such as Spacedogs, Madancy, or Tristhad.

Day 2 (5/23): Hannibal Crossovers

Day 2 honors NBC's Hannibal! Show us a world where Hannibal and the HEU collide. Maybe that’s a ship like Kaisergram, Spacecannibals, or DogsDogs, just to name a few. Or maybe you want to throw Chiyoh and Camille together, or to focus on something platonic! The sky’s the limit.

Day 3 (5/24): HEU Villains

For today's prompt, we're asking you to create something that features a villainous or morally questionable HEU character such as Le Chiffre, Nigel, or Cal Roberts!

Day 4 (5/25): Omegaverse 

For Day 4, any HEU character or pairing is fair game, as long as you throw them into some version of the Alpha/Beta/Omega universe!

Day 5 (5/26): HEU Daddies

Create something for an HEU character you think deserves to be called a capital-D Daddy. Is that Duncan Vizla? Nolan Price? Bobby Bronson? Markus? You tell us!

Day 6 (5/27): HEU Baby Boys

Can't have a Daddies Day without a day honoring our HEU Baby Boys! Honor a young, innocent, adorable HEU character such as Adam Raki, Lenny, or Prince Charmont.

Day 7 (5/28): Polyamory & Group Sex

We close out our week by asking you to create something for a pairing featuring three or more characters, like Polygram, SpaceHannigram, and LecterTriplets. Polyamory? A purely sexual encounter? We want it all!

[foulfirerebel]

Red Dead Redemption 2 things I find funny and interesting (Spoiler warning)

You can, and will, kill the KKK in this game. You get positive Honor for doing so. It also feels good to do.

There was this really annoying, eugenics spouting fellow in Saint Denis, right? At first, had Arthur diss him and he ran off. Had Arthur punch him and no one did anything to stop me or even call the sheriff. So, he shows up a third time? Shot him in the head. Aside from a few gasps at the gunfire? No police. That is intentional.

The fishing. Say whatever the heck you will about the hunting, but if you follow me on Twitch you know I've spent hours on the fishing. I just find it relaxing, especially when the sun rises or sets in game.

Running away from a gun fight because a huge, fuck off Grizzly Bear decided to barge in. Had that happen a couple times.

There's a giant Arthur and later John can talk to. Never got that to trigger.

Aliens exist. You can see their UFOs over you in two different places.

I've been kicked by my horse for forgetting what button is the mount up button before. It's funny.

Never start a fight in Van Horn, especially not in the saloon. You will end up fighting the entire town. Source: me on more than one occasion.

There's a giant snake carcass by Pleasance. Its presence is never explained or remarked upon, and there's likewise a giant snake mound. Despite this, there is no giant snake to hunt. This angers me, given you can hunt this massive alligator that tries to eat Arthur in one story mission.

Darkness is fucking scary in this game, especially when you can't see two feet in front of you when it rains/storms at night. Especially if a cougar, a pack of wolves, the Night Folk, or the Murfree Brood come after you.

Ambushes are a thing. I lost my first horse to one after they brought a gatling gun to one and couldn't recover fast enough.

The moose are massive in the game.

The treasure hunts are really annoying without a guide.

FUCK. MICAH. BELL. He shoulda died twice over and I'm glad he got shot a whole bunch in the epilogue. Fucking traitorous POS.

The Epilogue is a lot better than Red Dead 1's by virtue of giving you more to do, and also provides more of a better ending to the Van Der Linde gang.

The Mysterious Stranger appears again in the game. He has a house in the swamp. Visit it as John or late game as Arthur.

Always donate to the blind man on the side of the road.

As John, in the area where Red Dead 1 takes place, there was a house that just exploded randomly. Looking it up, it appears to be because of the boiler.

The serial killer quest.

Seriously, the serial killer quest is one of the examples of the most horrifying quests in a game like this since you see the victims are decapitated or worse. Getting to put him down was satisfying.

I played Arthur as an honest man according to my friend. Helped people where I could, spared folk instead of killing them outright, paid my dues, etc. That felt a heck of a lot better than trying to be evil.

I prefer 2 over 1 overall, but one complaint I do agree with is the idea that it's too simulator based in some areas. I prefer the duels of 1, the hunting and skinning of 1 (takes too long in 2), liar's dice in 1, and the inventory having of 1 over 2. That said, 2 is better at everything else: story, characters, character development, interaction with the world feels better, the fishing, etc.

2 made me cry harder than 1 did, especially when Arthur contracts TB.

Speaking of which, Arthur contracting TB is just one big sad fest all the way through.

The strangers you meet in 2 feel like they have more impact on me than in 1. The doc trying to show the electric chair, the serial killer, the blind man, the injured veteran, the veteran you help and get a good horse from, the nuns you can help in Saint Denis, etc.

Heck, just being able to see stories to completion: the widow who you can visit repeatedly, the scientist obsessed with creating life (who succeeds, you can find the robot), the runaway couple from the Braithwaite storyline, might be others I've forgotten.

Just...all the characters involved from Arthur to Sadie to Abagail to John to Charles, everyone gets something to do and that's awesome to me.

Heck, just the idea that this is about a family having a major break up and falling apart.

The music.

Seriously, the music. Either the vocal tracks or the instrumentals. Could listen to it for hours.

If anyone would like to add on to this, please do. I've probably only scratched the surface despite having beat it.

[x--daughters-of-darkness--x]

NITA STRAUSS Shares New Single 'Winner Takes All' Featuring ALICE COOPER

ALICE COOPER guitarist Nita Strauss has released a new single, "Winner Takes All", featuring a guest appearance by the legendary rocker. The track is taken from Nita's upcoming sophomore solo album, tentatively due later this year via Sumerian Records.

"Winner Takes All" is the third song Nita has released featuring a star guest vocalist, the first being the enormously successful "Dead Inside" which featured guest vocals from DISTURBED's David Draiman and saw Nita become the first-ever solo female to have a No. 1 hit at Active Rock radio. She also returned to her instrumental roots last year with the release of single "Summer Storm", a fast-paced, emotive shred-fest. In October 2022, Nita dropped "The Wolf You Feed", an epic headbanger of a track featuring the insane vocal talent of Alissa White-Gluz of ARCH ENEMY.

Says Nita: "When we were working on the music for this album, there was no question that I wanted to create a song to collaborate with my longtime boss and friend, the legendary Alice Cooper. I think the track accomplishes what we set out to do — showcase Alice's voice and signature style on the backdrop of a heavy, modern rock track. After many years of lending my style of playing to Alice's music on stage, it was truly an honor to work together and hear his voice on one of my songs!"

Back in February 2022, Nita told SiriusXM's "Trunk Nation With Eddie Trunk" about her upcoming LP: "It's gonna be half and half — six tracks with vocalists and six tracks of instrumental [music]. We've been doing ['Dead Inside'] live on the solo tour and it's been getting a super-good reaction from our crowds."

In early December 2022, Nita told "The Mistress Carrie Podcast" about her decision to make the upcoming LP half vocal songs and half instrumental: "I did feel, and the label and everybody agreed, it's still important for me to keep my identity as a guitar player and not just branch off too much and go, 'Okay, well, now it's just guests.' Let me still have a little of what makes me me, which is the instrumental shred stuff. And the instrumental pieces that I've written on this record are, I think, better than anything I did on the first one — definitely more… I don't know if it could be more emotional but they're very emotional pieces of music and I think a little better crafted this time around. So I think all the songs in general are more well thought out, better put together this time around. And I do have some of my absolute favorite [singers guesting on it]. I have three amazing powerhouse female vocalists on this album so far."

Nita released 2018's "Controlled Chaos" to mass acclaim from fans and media alike, with Metal Injection calling it "a great debut that — as its creator intended — leaves no doubt", and Guitar World stating "'Controlled Chaos' is a panoramic view of Nita Strauss's many strengths".

Earlier this month, it was announced that Nita would return to Alice's band for his 2023 tour.

The Alice Cooper North American tour, with an all-new show dubbed "Too Close For Comfort", kicks off in late April in Michigan and continues through late September, including a handful of August stadium shows with DEF LEPPARD and MÖTLEY CRÜE, followed by a co-headlining late summer "Freaks On Parade" tour with Rob Zombie.

Nita spent eight years playing with Alice before joining Demi Lovato's band last summer,

Strauss played her first full live show with Demi on August 13, 2022 at the Grandstand at the Illinois State Fair in Springfield, Illinois.

Nita made her live debut with Demi on July 14, 2022 with a performance of "Substance" on ABC's Emmy Award-winning late-night show "Jimmy Kimmel Live!".

Strauss had been playing with Cooper since 2014 when she replaced Australian musician and former Michael Jackson player Orianthi. She joined Alice in time for a mammoth MÖTLEY CRÜE tour. She was recommended to Cooper by the legendary rocker's former bass player and WINGER frontman Kip Winger.

[miekasa]

do you have any cute (or h-word) bf headcanons for the Aot boys mie?

Of course I do, I have an ever-expanding list of headcanons for all of them, from how they react to you sitting in the backseat when they pick you up, down to whether or not they would rip your bandages off after your get a shot (spoiler: Eren, Porco, and Levi fucking would)

EREN sfw

He really likes holding hands, though it’s more of a calming habit for him. Holding hands keeps him grounded, and acts as an anchor for his anxiety; so he’ll grab and/or fidget with yours periodically.

He’ll steal your skincare if he’s over at your place, but honestly he just starts… copying it lmfao. Like, he’ll take notice of your face wash when he’s over he’s like “Oh, this is nice” and then a week later, he buys a bottle for himself. Then he buys your toner, and your moisturizer, and you stay over at his place and gotta do a double take bc he’s got damn near the same of everything at this point.

He doesn’t know if he believes that classical music actually helps him to concentrate, but he does know that he’s grown to like it, so it’s become his studying music of choice. He’s got favorite composers and everything.

He’d be upset if you didn’t steal his hoodies. That’s what they’re there for. He’ll make you steal them if he has to.

He hates standing in line. For anything. If he likes a restaurant that gets super busy at lunch, he’ll order ahead for pickup (and he feels special skipping the line). At amusement parks, he pays for the fast passes. If it’s shopping, then he’d rather just do it online.

On that note, he sucks at returning things that don’t fit/he doesn’t like when he shops online, so he honestly just keeps them, or gives them to his friends—it’s much easier than going through the hassle of printing a return label, according to him.

nsfw

He likes the idea of recording you guys during sex, but he’s honestly a little too nervous to do it—nervous about being recorded himself, and about it potentially getting out somewhere.

Likes it when you look him in the eyes when you cum. In fact, he somewhat demands it.

Similarly, he’s always watching you during sex. Mostly your face, for indications of how he’s making you feel and when you’re close to your orgasm (which is why he’s got a thing for you looking at him).

He used to hate masturbating, until he tried masturbating to the idea of you, and now he fucking loves that. He takes his time with it too—if he’s gonna jack off, he’s gonna make a moment of it: sit on his bed, turn the lights off, make sure he’s all alone and can go for as long as he wants.

Threesomes are fine with him, and he doesn’t even have to be the sole one in charge, depending on who’s joining you.

ARMIN sfw

He air-dries the majority of his clothes because he doesn’t want his sweaters and knitwear to shrink. Also, he likes the smell of his fabric softener permeating the room while the clothes dry.

On a similar note, he’s got sensitive skin—not to the point where a shirt less than 75% cotton irritates him; but he is conscious of fabrics and products he uses. Because of this, he takes extra care with his laundry, his pillowcases and bedsheets are satin as are the majority of his pajama shirts, and he never ever walks around without house slippers or he’ll irritate the bottom of his feet.

He’s scared of bugs, but he doesn’t like to kill them either. Honestly, he just kinda hopes spiders and stuff will crawl away without him intervening 😭😭

He likes board games, and has a thing for The Game of Life. He cannot play chess, even though most people would guess that he could, and he’s begun to practice by playing online versions against computers to learn.

He knows everyone’s gossip because everyone comes to him to gossip. And if he’s the therapist friend, then you’re the person who receives the summary of all the tea from him at the end of the week. And man can this boy throw a bitch fest when he’s in the right mood.

nsfw

He’s got a bit of an oral fixation, so he really likes having your mouth occupied; with his fingers, with your panties, with his dick—he’s not really picky.

Likes sex with the lights on. Claims it’s because he wants to “see all of you” (it’s really because he’s nervous he’ll fuck something up if he can’t see properly 😭😭)

He really likes making out. Like, a lot. Though it’s not something that happens often—so he builds up a lot of frustrating thinking about it, and it all comes crashing down, and ends up with you guys damn near dry humping each other on the couch for two hours.

That’s something that applies to him generally, too—he tends to let himself get very frustrated and worked up, whether he means to or not. He also thinks about sex quite frequently, and it only fuels his frustration; so when he snaps, he snaps hard.

He’d let you choke him back if you asked. Just ask nicely.

JEAN sfw

Loves studying in cafés and adores when you study with him; peeps up at you periodically when you sit across from him. He always pays for your drink, but sometimes you guys share, and he likes making a game out of reaching for the cup at the same time as you.

He’s very chivalrous, but he hates when you call him out for it, or make any kind of deal of it. He knows it’s chivalry, but he also knows it’s the bare minimum, plus he’s easily embarrassed—especially in public.

Loves having his hair played with, absolutely adores it. If you’re just holding his face, or resting your hand on his cheek, he’ll move himself further into your touch to maneuver your palm closer to his hair.

He really really really likes back hugs—giving and receiving them. If he’s standing behind you, he’ll most likely reach for a hug at some point (sometimes he won’t let go and you’ve gotta waddle with him on you). His ears get red when you give him a back hug but he always uses a hand to rest over your arms to tell you that he doesn’t want you to let go.

He can play the piano, but he doesn’t tell a soul about it. The only reason you found out it through his mom. He’s got stage fright, so he gave up on performing, but he’s really talented, and can almost play any song by ear.

nsfw

He loves the feeling of your hands on him, particularly if you’ve got long nails. Please scrape your nails against his back, or even just dig them into his biceps while he’s fucking you, it’ll drive him insane.

Along with liking having his hair played with, he adores having it pulled on—the attention and desperation in your actions goes straight to his ego and his dick.

One of his biggest fantasies is getting a lap dance from you. He’d never ever fucking say it out loud or dream of asking for it, but the idea of you stripping in front of him, down to lingerie he’d picked out for you, and teasing him until he can’t take it anymore and jumps you is something he thinks about… far more often than he should.

If you’re wearing his clothes (especially one of his t-shirts to bed, or around his apartment), he’s gonna fuck you in it. Jean has a lot of self control, but that’s one thing that’ll make him snap in an instant. And if you wear his shirt or hoodie out, he’s fucking you when you get home, it’s as simple as that.

CONNIE sfw

He studies with children’s shows playing the background. He doesn’t remember how he discovered that his method works for him, all he knows is that something about Paw Patrol makes for excellent background noise for writing his research papers.

He’s quite touchy with PDA, but if you guys are in a crowd then forget about it—because Connie might forget about you. He’s definitely left you at the grocery store before.

He eats cereal for breakfast every morning, and he’s kind of got a collection of them in his kitchen. He claims there are upscale cereals that he doesn’t just let anybody eat or even touch; so, if he offers you a midnight snack consisting of a bowl of his favorite (and very rare) cereal, then be honored.

He almost always pays with cash, but he hates change. If he gets back coins, he either tells the cashier to keep them, puts them in a tip jar if there’s one in sight, or just pours them into your coat pocket. He understands that its money, but he’ll be damned if he’s just got a sack full of nickels clanging around in his bag.

nsfw

He claims he doesn’t have a thing for exhibitionism, but with the way he’s down to fuck damn near anywhere, he might be a bold faced liar. Changing rooms, music festivals, airport bathrooms, the little corner of the multilevel parking lot that he’s oh-so-certain is in the blindspot of the security cameras... there are so few things off-limits with him.

Car sex on his bucket list… just not in his car lmfao (because trust and believe that’s something that already happens pretty regularly). Maybe his real kink is vandalism and destruction of property.

He is not above begging you to sit on his face. He will get on his knees and pant like a fucking dog for you to do it, he’s so serious. He’ll do it laying down, he’ll do it with you standing up/against a wall, he’ll do it on the couch. Break his neck please he’s fucking asking for it.

He doesn’t mind sharing and he definitely doesn’t mind watching. Honestly, he’d egg you on to kiss someone else at a party, or go as far as to seduce you into seducing someone else just so he can watch it go down.

PORCO sfw

He sends you iMessage games but only the ones he’s good at because he doesn’t like to lose. But also, if he is losing, he doesn’t want you to be supportive about it and tell him “it’s okay uwu” lmfao he wants to either cream you, or have you kick his ass; competition is the name of the game, don’t be soft on him.

He’s a morning person, and he likes going on runs or even just early-morning walks when the weather is nice. He will wake you up occasionally to join him—and if you’re a homebody, you will be joining him. He won’t be responsible for watching you decompose on the couch.

Very picky about his pizza. It’s not a calorie or grease or health thing—he just really fucking likes pizza, and he won’t excuse a bad slice.

Always pulls you closer to him in a crowd or when a group of people are walking by. He doesn’t have to, but he likes to. Tease him about it and he’ll push you right back tho, probably into a shrub if there’s one near by.

nsfw

He’s such a “No, no—answer the call” kind of mf; a sadist, if you will. He lives for torturing and embarrassing you, and that applies to sex, too.

Loves the way his hands look on you, particularly splaying his hand over your stomach when he’s fucking you. Likes the heat of your body against his, when he positions himself just right to feel the outline of his dick against you, and squeezing the sides of your tummy when he gets lost in it.

Loves blowjobs, and loves to cum on you or over your face. His favorite thing tho is pulling away just before he’s about to orgasm, and jacking himself off with your tongue sticking out, ready to swallow.

Okay with threesomes, too; but he wouldn’t like to do much to or with the third person. It’s okay if they touch you—maybe even fuck you, depending on who it is—but he’s not there to get them off.

LEVI

sfw

When he cooks dinner, he always makes sure to make enough for you to have leftovers to take with you for lunch the following day. Especially if it’s a dish you’ve been wanting or try, or specifically asked him to cook.

He’s got a specific tote bag he brings with him to the grocery store/farmer’s market, and separate one for when he’s running other light errands.

He hates soda, not even just because it’s not the healthiest thing to drink—he just doesn’t like the feel of carbonated drinks; the only exception being when they’re mixed with liquor, but even then, it’s not his preference.

After a while, he just starts lying and says you’re married at places where it benefits you both, or to curb a longer conversation about the status of your relationship to people who are inquiring. He thinks it’s fucking weird that marriage is what shuts people up, but if it works, it works; less people prying in your guys’ business.

He likes giving you forehead kisses, and if you do it back, he’ll learn that he doesn’t mind receiving them either.

He’s such a sucker for you rubbing your thumb against the back of his hand when you guys hold hands. He might not act like he notices, but he always does; and somewhat craves little touches like that the longer you guys are together.

nsfw

He would never admit it to anyone, but birthday sex is up there for his favorite kind of sex. He never cared much about his birthday… until he realized he could get that as a gift. He knows it’s not different, but he likes it, nonetheless; one the few times he doesn’t mind having all the attention on him.

King of aftercare, though some of his methods usually lead to another round—in which he teases you for cancelling out his work, when you know he was just as willing and eager.

He likes edging himself and overstimulating you; and with his self-control, that makes for a pretty dangerous combination.

He’s strong and he knows how to use it to his advantage: maneuvering you with a single arm, holding both your wrists above your head with one hand, pushing your head down into the sheets when he’s fucking you from behind.

Sex is one of the few times Levi doesn’t mind making a mess—and in fact, he likes it messy; watching you drip onto the sheets, making you spit on his dick and fucking your face until you drool. He always goes on about how sloppy you are, how you can’t keep anything clean, but he fucking loves it.

[vizowrites]

That’s One Hell of a Resume

{Set during the Harvest Moon Festival competitions}

~*~

To  Blitzø’s great surprise, the Harvest Moon Festival was actually turning out to not be a fuck fest invite after all.

He honestly hadn’t been sure when the games initially kicked off.  The horde of imps that had come to compete for the title of “the roughest, toughest, bastard in Wrath” had a proclivity for violence that could easily--and not inaccurately--be described as a passion.  Then of course there was Stolas, watching him thirstily from atop his fancy seat underneath his fancy tent, cooing and cheering out “Blitzyyyyy!!'' at every opportunity he got to speak.  Yet the honored owl prince somehow still managed to keep his pants on throughout each and every event--and even more impressively managed to keep his degrading sweet talk void of any sexual obscenities.  He hadn’t even been able to manage that much on a day trip to a theme park with his daughter.  Yet somehow...this wasn’t even the best part of the festival to  Blitzø.  It was up there to be sure, but it wasn’t the toppiest top.  The “dom of the disco”**, if you will.  

No, the BEST part of the festival--and the thing that kept the imp grinning from ear to ear throughout the entire competition--was that this honkytonk battle royale was shaping up to be the perfect opportunity to show off and be recognized for just how much of a boss-ass bitch Blitz actually was: 2nd to absolutely fucking none.

Well...maybe with ONE slight exception.

“I gotta say, you just keep on impressin’ me every chance you get,” that one slight exception said with a smirk, the tip of his tail flicking forward into a small curl.  “No wonder your killin’ biz is so successful.  You do every kill single-handed there, Boss Man?” The two were standing off on the sidelines together during one of the many interims inbetween contests, where the first round winners had already secured their victories and now were stuck watching the remaining shitty losers battle it out to find out which of them would end up being the absolute shittiest loser.  It was taking a stupidly long-ass time, a hell of a lot longer than  Blitzø would’ve normally had the patience for, but with his present company leaning up against the bleacher stands like that.....there were definitely worse ways he could be spending his down time right now.

“Nah,” he answered with a small flick of his wrist, gesturing vaguely in the general direction of where he’d last seen Moxxie getting his ass kicked and Millie sitting in the stands watching it happen.  “I know he’s not doing a great job of showing it right now--” he said just as Moxxie got elbow dropped by a shark “--but Moxxie’s not completely useless.  He did get me shot on a job once while he was in the middle of being a little bitch, but as soon as he finally found his balls again, he got things back under control pretty fast.  And Millie’s just a straight up badass.  If her parents had allowed her to play in the games, you’d have gotten your ass handed to you three rounds ago.”

“That so?” Striker’s lips drew back into a slight smirk, just enough for the light to catch on the very tip of his fanged gold tooth.  “Because I seem to remember a certain someone else bein’ the one to get themselves all roped up in a hogtie about three rounds ago.”  

“I have no idea what you’re talking about but it sounds like complete bullshit.”

“That’s kinda what I was thinkin’ myself to be honest after that first relay run--” Those snake-like eyes raked in every inch of Blitz’s annoyed face, feeling the corners of his own pleasantly sting as his grin spread even wider. “Right up ‘til I saw some o’that nice red color risin’ up in their face--”

“IT’S HOT--THERE ARE FUCKING VOLCANOES NEARBY OKAY!!” Blitz realized, very quickly, just how loud and defensive those words sounded, but he also realized just as quickly that there wasn’t anything he could do to take them back now.  Instead, he straightened himself up, cleared his throat, pretended that there wasn’t some of ‘that nice red color’ in his face now, and said in what he thought was a much more nonchalant voice, “Anyway, I’m starving, and since these last few dipshits are taking forever to get their asses kicked, I’m gonna go find something deep-fried to shove down my throat.  Catch you at the awards ceremony or whatever the fuck they do around here to finish themselves off.”

The I.M.P. Head made it a grand total of two steps before the unmistakable crunch of boots sounded behind him, followed by a faint scoff of a laugh and the distinct rattling of a tail as Striker joined him at his side.  

“There’s a whole row of food stands back there behind the stage,” he said with a nod, meeting  Blitzø’s stride and starting to veer them off in that direction.  “And now that you mention it, I wouldn’t mind grabbin’ a bite.  Besides--I feel like I might owe you one for bringin’ up such a tender subject.”

The unrepentant but non-malicious smirk he sent Blitz’s way wasn’t at all softened by the wink that accompanied it, but it somehow brought a slight smile to the smaller imp’s lips all the same.

“You got fucking lucky and that was it,” Blitz insisted with a sharp flick of his tail, not having the faintest fucking clue why he was smiling about this in the first place but subconscioiusly hoping that swatting at Striker would be distracting enough that the taller imp wouldn’t notice.  “And besides, I could’ve gotten out of it if I had really wanted to.”

“Oh, so you wanted to be all tied up like that?”  The grin that spread across Striker’s face was even wider than the first, his razor sharp teeth now on full display. “Well now, if that’s what you were wantin’ you could’ve just asked.  I’d’ve been happy to oblige right from the start.” 

“Ha! Like I’d ever make it that easy for you,”  Blitzø retorted with a challenging grin, his eyes dancing with a truly impish gleam of delight as he and Striker rounded the stage together, his earlier thoughts of the food shacks that waited beyond almost entirely forgotten as they were overtaken by memories of their constant back-and-forth scuffle throughout the festival. “You beating me fair and square is one thing--even though you still totally just got really fucking lucky and also it definitely never even happened in the first place.  But if you were actually going to beat me...you better believe it’s not gonna happen without a fight.  I don’t just bow out like some sloppy bitch who can’t figure out where they put their car keys and has to take the walk of shame back to their shitty apartment at 4 in the morning.  If you wanna come out on top over me, you better fucking work for it.”  

The black tip of his pointed tail flicked up to poke Striker once in the center of his chest, punctuating the word ‘work’ perfectly. 

Striker’s tail, on the other hand, began to rattle.

“Yeah?” he said, his earlier easy tone starting to become weighted with something softer, but deeper.  Neither he nor  Blitzø made any indication that they were aware that he was guiding them both right on past the front of the stand that they had originally been headed toward, and instead had them disappearing into the shadows behind it. “You’re okay with not coming out on top so long as whoever does earns their place there?”

“I mean...”  Blitzø trailed off a bit as he casually leaned up against the back of the stand, folding his arms over his chest as he eyed Striker with that lingering gleam in his own gaze. “You have been able to keep up with me in all the other games...so I guess it might be possible for you to get the upper hand on me for at least one of them.”  

“Just me?”  The rattling sound intensified. 

“Well there sure as fuck wasn’t anyone else who was able to keep up,”  Blitzø rolled his eyes in annoyed exasperation at just how much everyone else truly sucked in comparison to the two of them, before he slowly looked back up at Striker--and realized that the snake-like imp was suddenly a lot closer than he’d been before.  Much closer.  

“...Striker?”

“Yeah, Blitz?”

“Please tell me we’re not actually talking about the fucking games anymore.”

A short, soft laugh was the initial answer, followed by that still rattling tail coiling around Blitz’s slender waist as Striker propped himself up on one arm against the structure behind them, his hand splayed just to the side of the crimson imp’s right cheek.  

“I haven’t been talkin’ about the games since you got me with your tail, Darlin’,” he whispered, his hooded eyes narrowing to glowing slits of pale gold as he leaned in almost close enough to touch.  “But I don’t know if there ain’t somethin’ to be said about that “fuckin’” part yet...”

Blitz’s words came back to him then, ringing in his head as clear as when he first said them: 

“...Well if you promise this isn’t some fuck fest invite...”

“.....You gonna work for it, Cowboy?” 

“Yessir, Boss Man.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“So...lemme get this straight--”  Blitzø finally shifted his weight, easing it off of Striker and rolling to rest his back on whatever podunk concession stand they’d spent the last ten minutes fucking up against.  “--You tie me for first place in the games, you ride around on the most majestic fucking horse I’ve ever seen, you take down a hell hog with a single stab while completely and mercilessly humiliating one of my employees in front of his in-laws at the same fucking time, and you called me “Sir” when we first met?  AND you’re a great fuck??”

The quirked eyebrow and smug gold-toothed grin he got in reply said more than words ever could, especially when accompanied by the satisfied rattling of that long, spiked tail.

“That’s one hell of a resume you’ve got there.”  Blitzø didn’t even realize his own face had split into a grin until he saw it reflected in Striker’s eyes, hypnotized by the sheer reckless abandon he felt ignited between them.  “Want to join I.M.P.?”  

Striker couldn’t help but laugh, reaching up to adjust the brim of his hat from where Blitz’s tail had nearly knocked it off, his unwavering gaze sparking into an infernal glow.

“Tell you what,” he said, his tone a warm rumble of amusement meeting temptation.  “You and I head on back to the stage, revel in our well-deserved glory, and--once we’re satisfied it’s been rubbed into the faces of those sorry ass losers enough--I’ll head on back up to the farm and have a little talk with Miss Mildred’s folks about finishin’ things up around here for the season.  Maybe see if they can find another set of hands to join ‘em for the next one if mine are gonna be occupied with--” His hand found its way down to Blito’s face, the sharp claw-like nail of his thumb pressing under the shorter imp’s chin to tilt it up towards his own. “--other things.”

“Believe me, Cowboy,”  Blitzø’s eyes were burning, twin embers of eagerness that ran so deep he could feel the heat of it vibrating through to his very core--and his vocal chords.  “You’re not going to find a more hands-on job than the one you’re gonna get if you come and work for me.  ESPECIALLY in that order.” 

Striker’s tail snaked its way up and along past Blitz’s hip, the pointed tip flicking over his chest as it’s rattle joined in the chorus of that deep, heated purring.  

“Don’t mind if I hold you to that, Sir.”

“Oh fuck me--”

And Striker did. Again.

~*~

Random Notes: 

**My counterpart to the phrase “the belle of the ball”--”the dom of the disco”.  I think I’m way funnier than I actually am. :D

ANYWAY tho I really hope y’all like it!!  This is the first fanfic I’ve posted anywhere publicly in a hot minute so I hope it’s not a bad kickoff to something I’m hoping to really get back into!!  I have plans to post the full fic of this--with the non-censored sex scene to my AO3 oohlala--so if that’s something you’d like to see, feel free to lemme know here and I can get right on that!!  Otherwise have a great day, thanks for reading, and if anyone wants to hit me up for some lovely BlitzStrike talks, I’m always open to messages!!

Thanks again Lovelies!! <3

[machine-gun-casie]

Funnel Cakes, Ferris Wheels, And Some Feelings

anon: A fluffy best friends to lovers concept with MGK where he and the reader spend the day at the carnival and end up admitting their feelings for each other on the Ferris wheel👉🏼🥺👈🏼

wc: 2.3k

tw: bad driving, food, a tik tok song if u squint.

:: :: ::

“Colson, please.” You whined, dragging out the ‘please’.

“I already said no.” He spoke monotonously without looking up from his phone. You pouted and gave him your best puppy eyes. “Stop with that shit you do with your eyes. It’s cute, but it’s not cute enough.”

“Then what is cute enough?” You threw your head back to add to the dramatics. “I really wanna go, but a carnival is no fun alone. I mean, I’m guessing.”

“You’re guessing?” Colson raised his eyebrows at you and only slightly lowered his phone. “If you’ve never been to a carnival alone, now’s a great time.”

“No,” you laughed and shoved his shoulder, “I’ve never been to a carnival period.”

“You’ve never been to a carnival?!” Colson asked a little too loudly in disbelief. “How have you never been to a carnival?”

You shrugged and made that hum people do when they have no clue. “I figured since this one’s in town, we could go together.” You let out a long heavy sigh and flopped onto Colson, pulling out an ‘oomph’ from the blonde haired giraffe boy. “But if you really don’t wanna go…”

“Alright, get up.” The words were short and clipped, and Colson only pulled out this tone when he was serious.

“What? Are we going?” Sitting up a little too fast, you looked at Colson with eyes that were incredibly hopeful.

“Yes, we’re going. Go put on your shoes.” He nodded and pointed to your shoes by the door.

“Aaah!” You squealed obnoxiously loud and smiled when you saw Colson wince. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Colson pushed you farther away from him with a gentle kick of his legs against yours and closer to the door. “Go! Before I change my damn mind!”

“You’re no fun.” You pouted, dropping to the floor to put on your shoes.

“I’m taking you, aren’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” You rolled your eyes but a soft smile slowly spread across your face. You jumped up and looped your arm through Colson’s when you were done, hugging his arm close to your chest. “Thank you.”

Colson noted the genuine sincerity in your voice and his demeanor softened as he led you out of the front door. You and him were always bickering, but everyone, including the two of you, knew that it was only playing around. “You know I was gonna take you as soon as you mentioned it, right?”

“I know. I’m just- yeah, I’m just thankful. For you.” You chuckled and shook your head, stopping in front of the car. “Fuck. That was really sappy, huh?”

“Oh yeah, way too fucking sappy.” Colson nodded, a teasing smirk on his face. He opened the passenger door for you and held out his hand to help you in. When you put your hand in his, he grasped it and pulled you closer. You let out a sigh as he pulled you into a hug, your arms around his waist and one of his was around your shoulders while the other cradled your head. He placed a chaste kiss to your forehead and smiled. “But sappy isn’t always bad.”

The car ride to the carnival was about as hectic as any car ride with Colson. A few red lights ignored here, a few fire hydrants almost crashed into there, and a long hearty giggle fest at the tree Colson almost burned down not that long ago. You arrived faster than the google maps approximation of an hour, L.A. traffic surprisingly not that bad. Still very very bad. But less so than usual.

“Alright!” Colson slapped his hand on the roof of the car as soon as you were parked and out of your seats. “Rule number one of carnivals: Funnel Cakes!”

He pointed towards a stall right past the ticket vendor, and he was clearly right as people flooded from the ticket vendor right up to the food truck.

“I think we need to get tickets first.” You chuckled, rounding the length of the car and reaching Colson. You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the ticket vendor.

“I know that.” Colson rolled his eyes. “Aside from the obvious, there’s rules to going to a carnival.”

“Oh, is there?” You asked, humoring him.

“Definitely.” Colson nodded as seriously as he could. “You have to eat funnel cake, you have to go on the carousel, you have to win a huge ass teddy bear, and you have to end the night on the ferris wheel.”

“In that order?” You asked once you had secured your place in line at the ticket vendor.

“And no other order.”

“Does the bear go on the ferris wheel or does it wait on the ground?” You asked, always the logical one. “It could fit on the ferris wheel, right? ‘Cause I’m pretty sure I’d steal a huge ass teddy bear left unattended. Can’t blame someone else if they felt those same urges towards our future abandoned huge ass teddy bear.”

“You make some great points.” Colson nodded, moving forward in line. Now only three other couples stood ahead of you.

You mentally scolded yourself for the use of the word ‘other’. You were not a couple. Colson is your best friend. Nothing else. You weren’t even sure if he considered you his closest friend. He had so many, it was hard not to compare yourself to them. All the clips online, the videos he posts late at night, the stories he’s told you of wild nights out. You felt like you could never compare.

Colson was always so calm with you. Made you wonder, did he slow down his usual escapades for you? Were you holding him back?

“-if not, we’ll put it in the car.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your eyebrows as you shook yourself out of your thoughts.

“We can put the bear in the car if there’s no space on the ferris wheel.” Colson repeated himself, eyebrows furrowing like yours. “Where’d you go there?”

“Hmm? Oh, nowhere. Yeah, bear in the car if need be.” You looked ahead in the line and saw that there were now two couples in front of you. “You know, if you really don’t like carnivals, we can head back. We haven’t bought any tickets or anything-”

“Hey, woah, what?” Colson interrupted you. “No, you can’t do that to me! Now I’m excited to win you a huge ass teddy bear! We’re not going anywhere.”

“Alright alright, I was just making sure!” You defended yourself. You felt the blood rush to your ears at Colson’s words. He was gonna win you the teddy bear. Like a sappy movie. Yeah this was definitely not helping your feelings.

Tickets were bought soon after, and true to his word, Colson’s first order of business was buying each of you a funnel cake.

“With this, there’s something you gotta keep in mind.” You nodded for him to continue. “You do not think of how ginormous it is. You just eat that shit. Every last bite. You gotta finish it, even if it’s too much.”

“I don’t think I can eat the whole thing, it’s huge!” You held the extremely large deep fried web of cake up to show him how truly gigantic the serving was.

Colson opened his mouth to tell you ‘yes, you still have to finish it. no exceptions.’ But then he saw your face. Fuck. He really couldn’t say no to you, could he? “Fine, you can give the rest to me. But only ‘cause it’s your first time!” When you smiled and nodded, Colson felt a wave of joy course through him. And after that a shock wave of fear.

This was not the time nor the place for his romantic feelings for you to come up. He really thought that he had successfully shoved those feelings deep into the recesses of his mind, but alas their heads keep rearing back into the forefront of his brain. He felt wrong about the feelings he had for you. Almost like he was taking advantage of you. He felt like you would regret all the time you spent together if you found out that during every movie night, every late night grocery run, and every early morning drive, Colson had a raging boner of the heart for you. He chuckled because he knew that his phrasing would bring you to a giggling heap on the ground.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothin’.” He smiled to himself and looked down at his funnel cake.

“No, now you gotta tell me.” You smiled, glad to see that your best friend didn’t seem to hate being here. “Spill, hot stuff.”

Colson flushed at the nickname and cleared his throat. “Just thinking about how Case would have loved this place.”

“Yeah, I bet she would.” You mused as you looked around at all the kids running around. “You should bring her the next time she comes down here. If it’s still around, I’m not su-”

“We should.” Colson corrected you, stopping you mid sentence.

“Hm?”

“We should take her. Yeah, she’ll like it if I brought her to one of these.” He shrugged. “But she’d go crazy if you came too. She’s obsessed with you, you know?”

“I can’t blame her, I’m amazing.” You shrugged with a smirk.

“Ha ha ha.” Colson dusted off his hands and reached over to pop the last piece of your funnel cake into his mouth. “Get your ass up, it’s carousel time mother fucker!”

Carnival activities took more time than you thought. The games took time because of the long lines at every stall, and the rides took time because the operator couldn’t start them until most of the seats were filled. In conclusion, when Colson said that you were to end the night with the ferris wheel, you really didn’t think it would be dark out by the time you were lugging the huge ass teddy bear towards the colorful manifestation of the fear of heights.

Thankfully the ferris wheel had four seater booths, so the teddy bear you affectionately named Wild Boy got to ride with you. You sat him on the bench opposite you and Colson and fastened his seat belt just to be safe. Once you were settled and the ride started moving, you let out a content sigh.

“That was so much fun.”

“Yeah?” Colson asked, placing his arm around your shoulders. You nodded and pulled yourself closer into his side. “What was your favorite part?”

“Definitely when you wasted six tickets to get Mr. Boy over here.” You giggled.

“Hey!” Colson raised his hand a little. “How dare you say that was a waste. It was an honor using up six of our precious tickets. I don’t think you get it, y/n. I had to get you this big ass teddy bear.”

“You had to?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yup.” He popped the p and nodded, looking straight ahead and trying his hardest to keep a neutral facial expression. “Them’s the rules.”

Your face broke out into a tightlipped smile as your giggled escaped as puffs of air through your nose. “Where is this rulebook of carnival trips?”

“Up here, baby.” Colson grinned, tapping his temple. “I haven’t gotten it published yet, but I don’t know if I will.”

“Mmm.” You hummed and nodded. “The information is too sacred for the public.”

There was a lull in the conversation, leaving you to review the last few spoken words between the two of you. You sat up a little straighter and furrowed your brows once you recalled Colson’s previous words.

“What?”

“Oh my god, did you,” you paused and turned to look at Colson, “did you call me baby?”

Colson had never called you that. Come to think of it, Colson has never called you anything but your name. Not that you were complaining, but the deviation certainly stood out to you. You couldn’t blame him really, you had to stop yourself from calling him something similar all day. Today’s activities felt almost too much like a date. But you thought you only felt like that because you had feelings for him.

Colson looked straight ahead and furrowed his brows in thought before he slowly turned to you. “Maybe.”

“Uh.” You felt a small smile sneak itself on your face.

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s cool. I like that.” You tried to respond nonchalantly, mentally face-palming yourself over the words you chose.

“Cool.” Colson smiled and relaxed, leaning back again.

You both stayed silent for a few moments, simply processing. Then you quickly snapped back to face Colson only to see that he had done the same thing.

“Wait, does that mean-”

“Fuck man, it better.”

Your eyes grew wide when you actually realized what just happened. You reached out and pulled Colson towards you so quickly that the ferris wheel booth you were sitting in shook. You looped your arms around his neck and quickly placed your lips on his. Before you could question whether or not he wanted this too, he grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, deepening the kiss.

When you pulled away, you saw that you were halfway through your trip on the ferris wheel, leaving you and Colson at the very top. “Holy shit, I’d like to quote Mod and say ‘movie.’”

Colson couldn’t help but agree. It was the most cinematic moment of the day.

“So you’re telling me, this whole fucking time-” Colson couldn’t help but chuckle. “I thought you liked Baze!”

“Baze?!” You gasped. “No! It’s been you, it’s been you for a long time.”

“Good, ‘cause it’s been you for a long time for me too.” Colson grinned. “Does that mean I can kiss you all the time now?”

“You never even have to ask.”

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Do you think that Johnny was surprised about Demetri and Eli when they announced that they were dating or was he expecting it and unsurprised??

HA what a great question! XD

I touched on this somewhat in one of my earlier asks but I’d be happy to talk about it again because I feel like Johnny’s reaction would be SO fucking funny.

Daniel, of course, smells this coming from a mile away. He has pretty good emotional intuition, for all of his hotheadedness, and what he isn’t able to figure out on his own (i.e. Sam and Robby dating when they literally lived with him lmao) Amanda can pretty readily fill in the gaps for him. He’s pretty easily able to spot that there’s something going on between Eli and Demetri--normal formerly-estranged teenage boy best friends don’t stand that close during training. And I like to think that Daniel and Eli would eventually bond (after a lot of apologizing from Hawk about the Medal of Honor business lol), and as they get more comfortable with each other, Eli might even open up to Daniel about his feelings for Demetri before confessing to him. Possibly Demetri would open up to Daniel too about having feelings for Eli? And poor Daniel would just sigh in frustration as he has to wait around for these two idiot boys to just GO OUT ALREADY. Point being, Daniel knows there’s something going on, and has for a while now. And considering how long these dumb boys have spent dancing around their feelings, Daniel’s had plenty of time to get used to the idea of two boys dating, even if it wasn’t the most common thing back in his day.

Johnny, though??? When he first finds out Hawk and Demetri are going out, he’s BAFFLED. Like utterly PERPLEXED. Not judgmental, really--he’s grown enough as a person since meeting Miguel that he doesn’t automatically jump to the conclusion that two boys dating is bad just because it’s...not what he expected. But he’s SO confused, like “Wait...Hawk is gay??? HOW??? Wasn’t he dating that hippie chick??? What happened to her?” “They broke up, Sensei. Ages ago, actually.” “She a beard or something?” “I don’t think so...Hawk just likes guys AND girls.” “Wait, that’s a thing??? You can DO that???” Johnny, bless his soul, is JUST starting to come around to the idea of gays--he can’t even BEGIN to wrap his head around bisexuals XD

Johnny’s also got this idea in his mind when he thinks of “gays”--some well-dressed man in a scarf doing that wrist thing (YOU KNOW WHICH WRIST THING) and talking like a valley girl and being sassy and obsessing over fashion and shoes and Johnny’s just so confused because Hawk is...none of that??? Like it just doesn’t even occur to Johnny that gay guys...can be masculine XD He thinks they’re all a bunch of girly weirdos, and--wait, you’re telling me one of my best fighters, one of the only kids I know who I can say without a shadow of a doubt is tough as nails, is...gay??? WHAT??? HOW CAN THIS BE??? And again, Johnny doesn’t really disapprove--he doesn’t give a fuck that Hawk apparently likes dick better than boobs, even if he doesn’t get how anyone could--he’s just butting up against all manner of cognitive dissonance, because he has all these preconceived notions that The Gays are a bunch of annoying sissies not worth his time, but...apparently??? They can be badass sometimes??? Who would have guessed???

But THEN, after Johnny gets over the initial shock and comes to full terms with one of his very best fighters being a raging homosexual (both literally and metaphorically), he stops and thinks about the scrawny, loudmouthed nerd who Hawk is apparently dating now, and suddenly everything just clicks into place, because...hey, wasn’t that the same snarky kid who went off on him for making fun of Hawk’s lip on the first day Hawk showed up in the dojo? Before all the mohawk “flipping the script” business? Wasn’t that the same snarky kid who Hawk yanked onstage during Valley Fest and insisted hold the board he wanted to kick in half? And wasn’t that the same snarky kid who Hawk flipped a bitch about joining Miyagi-Do (because no way Johnny DIDN’T overhear Hawk complaining about this during stretches, let’s be real)? And wasn’t that the same snarky kid who caused Hawk to FINALLY get his head out of his ass and ditch Kreese and Cobra Kai once and for all, all because Hawk wanted to save him? And Johnny just facepalms SO hard because of COURSE those kids were fucking gay for each other, how is he just now seeing it??? It was literally the MOST OBVIOUS THING???

You dun best believe Johnny feels like a damn idiot for not putting it together sooner. But looking at the facts of it in retrospect? Johnny isn’t surprised at all.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.20: “Carry On”

I’ll warn you right now - I did not hate it.

THEN: Chuck loses. Jack is God. The Winchesters are finally free.

NOW: Friends, get ready for a whole lot of fan service in the next few minutes. It's like TPTB have been reading everything we say and giving us what we want.

As a song about "ordinary life" plays, Dean's retro alarm clock goes off at 8:00. He shuts it off and sits up so we can see he's wearing a henley shirt (fan service points: 1). As he stretches, he's greeted by Miracle the dog (fan service points: 2)! Who is apparently his dog and definitely not Sam's!

But it's okay because LOOK AT THEM.

Meanwhile, Sam is running (fan service points: 3) and enjoying the beautiful day. When he gets home, he cooks (fan service points: 4) the same dry scrambled eggs that Stevie made for Charlie. Dean wanders in, wearing the dead guy robe, just as two slices of toast pop out of the toaster. I am not giving the robe any points because I don't think it's anything we all publicly long for and get excited about when it comes up, but I am willing to consider any opposing arguments. Sam, wearing just a t-shirt (5 points), tells Dean "it's hot" and I say mmm, yes it is. Dean adorably burns his hands on the hot toast and then brushes his teeth. You know what, I think the robe deserves a point after all. We're up to 6.

And we're not even two minutes into the episode.

And then they JUST KEEP COMING because Sam walks in, exposing his tattoo (7) because he's SHIRTLESS (8), scrubbing at his WET HAIR (9) with a towel, and I curse The Husband for deciding to watch with me because it means it would be kind of awkward to rewind and watch this a few more times. There's not even any dialog I can pretend I didn't catch.

I was NOT PREPARED FOR THIS.

He pulls on the grey v-neck t-shirt of sex (10) and proceeds to carefully make his bed. Dean, meanwhile, kind of sloppily throws his bed together and calls it done. Domestic Winchesters for 11 fan service points, please. Part of me feels like Dean's messy room is OOC, considering how proud he was to have his own room in the first place. But then I have to consider the trunk of the Impala, especially when compared to the hyper-organized neatness of her trunk when Sam's all alone in Mystery Spot, and it feels right. (Why am I thinking about Sam being all alone in Mystery Spot? NO REASON, NO REASON AT ALL.)

Sam's hair in his face while he makes his bed? Yes, please (12 points).

Dean washes the breakfast dishes (13), sneaking some leftover (because they were nasty) eggs to Miracle and looking around to make sure Sam doesn't see, because obviously Sam's going to be the one who doesn't want the dog to get table scraps. Sam put on a plaid shirt earlier, but we see him in the laundry room back down to one v-neck t-shirt (thank you Jack). He's reading as his laundry tumbles in the dryer, and he has to kick the dryer once to stop it from making noise, which I guess is why he's in there babysitting it. I keep reading on Tumblr that people want "at least one laundry scene," as if that didn't exist in The Monster at the End of This Book, but here's your laundry scene, friends. You were right to want it; it is marvelous (14).

Just look at that collection of plaid shirts and tell me it doesn't make you happy.

Dean times himself assembling a gun, complete with plenty of hand closeups (15) and then sits in the library with Miracle, scratching his ears (Miracle's, not his own) and apparently looking for a case. Sam comes in and joins them. He hasn't found anything, but Dean gets a serious look on his face and says "I got something."

Spoiler alert: It is my heart.

Title card!

The Impala pulls to a stop and the guys get out, still with serious looks on their faces. Oddly, the episode title flashes on screen really quickly. Or maybe it's just me. "Sure you're ready for this?" says Sam. "Oh, I don't have a choice," answers Dean. "This is my destiny." And that is exactly how I felt about watching this episode, friends. Not ready, but no choice. The camera pans to show that the boys are at the 43rd Annual Akron Pie Fest. In Akron, Iowa? Just north of Sioux City? Five hour drive? Say hi to Jody and the girls while you're there? Probably not. Probably in Akron, Ohio, almost 16 hours away.

(NO ONE CARES. STOP IT.)

Give me a break. This might be the last time I ever get to calculate driving time.

Anyway. Just pies! Nothing serious! Whew, I was concerned for a second. Dean is emotional.

This is just so beautiful.

Are you crying?

What? No. You're crying, I'm not.

No one is crying. There is no reason for ANYONE to cry.

Sam sits on a bench and watches happy pie eating families (sob). Dean returns with a giant box with six slices of pie (16 points). He sits next to Sam, and they have this conversation:

What's wrong?

Nothing. I'm fine.

Nah, come on, I know that face. That's Sad!Sam face.

I'm not Sad!Sam. I just. I'm thinking about Cas, you know? Jack. If they could be here.

Yeah, I know, I think about them too. You know what, that pain's not gonna go away, right? But if we don't keep living, then all that sacrifice is going to be for nothing.

Dean's right, Sam. Do not be sad. We will have no Sad!Sam tonight. Live your life, or else those sacrifices are wasted. (ahem.) Sam responds by pushing a slice of pumpkin pie into Dean's face. "I've wanted to do that for a very long time," he laughs. "You're right, I do feel better!" Dean scraping the pie off his face and eating it is pretty adorable.

I'd pay good money to lick that off his face. And not just because I love pumpkin pie.

Not quite 6 minutes in and we're up to at least 16 guaranteed bits of pure fan service. Just sweet, domestic Winchester brothers living their lives. How long has this been going on? I've decided it's been at least a year since the last episode. Maybe longer. A good long time. Lots of time for them to enjoy their newfound freedom. But right now things are getting dark. Because it's nighttime, and because I think somebody's about to die.

A mom sends two young brothers upstairs for bathtime. They pause when the doorbell rings. No one seems to be there, but then the dad is stabbed by people wearing creepy masks. The boys run into their room and hide. From their room, we hear the mom scream, and then a thump. One of the masked guys comes into the room and, after a fake-out when we think they might be safe, drags the boys out from under the bed.

So, domestic life in the bunker and then a hunt? Wow. We're getting it all. What a great episode, full of the things we love.

Is this Becky Rosen's living room?

Daytime. Agents Kripke and Singer (ugh, really? Kripke is good, but how about honoring someone other than the current regime?) show up at the scene. They learn that the dad's blood was drained, the mom is alive but her tongue was ripped out (wow), and the kids were taken. The mom drew a picture of the masks they wore, which the brothers recognize.

In a lovely, picturesque spot, the guys flip through John's journal. And I didn't realize we hadn't seen the journal in a while, but Tumblr informs me many of us were exicted to see it again, so boom. 17 points.

You know what this is? Mimes. Evil mimes.

Yeah. Or vampires.

VampMIMES. Son of a bitch!

Dean comes up with a silly portmanteau name for a monster? That will be 18 points. Sam determines the vamps will be heading for Canton if they follow their pattern, and the victims are families who live on the outskirts of town with children between the ages of five and ten. Well, that couldn't be too difficult to narrow down in a city with a population of over 70,000.

I'll handwave it. The lip biting. You’re welcome.

Night. Canton, I presume. Two masked vamps get out of a van. One of them gets decapitated by Dean. The other is shot in the leg, and then the head, by Sam. Well, he's a vampire, so of course it didn't kill him, but the bullet was soaked in dead man's blood. {Sidebar: "Soaked?" Dipped, maybe, but do you soak metal? Discuss.} They ask where the missing kids are, and the vamp is all, you're gonna let me go if I tell you? "No," Dean explains, adorably disappointed that the vamp isn't a mime after all. "This isn't a you walk out of here kind of situation. But see, if you tell us quick, you get this." He displays his bloody machete. "But if you take your time, you get, you get that." And "that" is a switchblade which Sam casually pops open right on cue.

Yeah, I'll take that. I'll take that itty bitty one.

It's a bad choice.

You see, this, this is quick. It's clean, you know? No muss, no fuss. You blink and you're dead.

But a blade this small, I'm gonna have to keep sawing and sawing to get your head off. And you'll feel it. Every muscle, tendon. Every inch. Could take hours.

Oh, and if those kids are dead? He's gonna use a spoon.

GUYS. I said it before and I’ll say it again. I absolutely love when they remind us that Sam Winchester, that sweet boy with the huge heart and the endless supply of empathy and the puppy dog eyes, I love it when they remind us that he is a fucking psycho when he needs to be. I'm not going to give it a point, because I don't think it's anything we've asked for, but again I'm willing to hear all arguments. Especially if they come with detailed examples of Sam going psycho. Just for evidence, you know.

Just casually talkin' bout torturing you to death. No big.

The vampire wisely decides to reveal the location of the nest where the kids are being held. Next we see the Impala pulling up in front of some kind of barn. The guys open the trunk to get their gear out, and Dean pulls out a throwing star. "Come on. One time." Sam says no. There will be plenty of other times for Dean to use his throwing stars, I'm sure.

The guys enter the barn and find it apparently empty, although we see masked vamps peeking at them from outside. They find the kids locked in a closet, but four vampires appear before they can escape. They shoo the boys outside and shoot the vampires with their dead man's blood bullets from a safe distance. No, they don't. Why? I got no goddamn idea.

{Sidebar: At some point during this fight, I realized they hadn't played "Carry On Wayward Son" at the beginning. And that we got a regular montage, not a season finale extended montage.}

Sam gets knocked unconscious, and Dean loses his machete and then gets pinned by a couple of vamps. But they don't kill him; they just hold him down while an unmasked vampire strolls in. Dean recognizes her from season 1, and pretends not to notice Sam's now-conscious hand surreptitiously creeping toward his machete. Suddenly the vampire loses her head, because Sam is behind her, and the fight starts up again. Dean gets thrown into a wall right next to a big metal spike, which we focus on oddly. And then he gets thrown onto the spike. Oops. Sam kills the last of the vamps and doesn't notice Dean's predicament. He's all, cool, fight's over, let's go get those kids out of here. "Sam," Dean says, "I don't think I'm going anywhere."

Dean tells Sam there's something stuck in his back and it "feels like it's right through me." He keeps touching his chest as if he expects to feel it poking through. Sam reaches around to touch his back and his hand comes back bloody, and if that gives you All Hell Breaks Loose feels, there's a good reason. Sam tries to pull Dean off the spike, but Dean stops him. "It feels like this thing's holding me together right now." Sam's starting to panic and so am I. He wants to go get the first aid kid and call for help, but Dean stops him. And y'all, I'm just gonna have to type the whole thing out.

Sam, Sam. Stay with me. Please, stay with me, please.

Okay. Yeah.

Okay. Okay. Uh. Right. All right, listen to me. Um. You get those boys and you get them someplace safe, all right?

Dean? WE are gonna get them somewhere safe.

No. You knew it was always gonna end like this for me. It was supposed to end like this, right? I mean, look at us. Saving people, hunting things, it's what we do.

Stop, Dean, just stop

It's okay. It's okay. it's good. It's good. We had one hell of a ride, man.

I will find away, okay? I will find another way.

No. No. No, no no no no. No bringing me back, okay? You know that always ends bad.

Dean, please.

I'm fading pretty quick, so, there's a few things I need you to hear. Come here. Let me look at you. There he is. I am so proud of you, Sam. You know that? I've always looked up to you. Remember when we were kids, you were so damn smart. You never took any of Dad's crap. I never knew how you did that. And you're stronger than me. You always have been. Hey, did I ever tell you, that night that I came for you when you were in school? You know, when dad hadn't come back from his hunting trip?

Uh, the woman in white.

The woman in white, that's right. I must have stood outside your door for hours, cause I didn't know what you would say. I thought you'd tell me to get lost, or get dead. And I didn't know what I would have done if I didn't have you. Cause I was so scared. I was scared. Cause when it all came down to it, it was always you and me. It's always been you and me.

Then don't leave me. Don't leave me. I can't do this alone.

Yes you can.

Well, I don't want to.

Hey. I'm not leaving you. I'm gonna be with you. Right here. Every day. Every day you're out there, and you're living, and you're fighting, cause you, you always keep fighting. You hear me? I'll be there, every step. I love you so much. My baby brother. Well, I did not think this would be the day. But it is, it is, and that's okay. I need you, I need you to promise me. I need you to tell me that it's okay. I need you to tell me it's okay. Look at me. I need. I need. I need you to tell me it's okay. Tell me it's okay.

Dean. It's okay. You can go now.

Bye, Sam.

NO, IT IS NOT OKAY. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF OKAY.

And of course I haven't described Sam's face as he understands what's happening, Dean's occasional spasms of pain, the handholding, the fucking FOREHEAD TOUCH, the tears, the way Dean's hand drops away, the way Sam's hands shake as he clutches his dead brother (hello, AHBL again).

Maybe we just need to watch it.

Gifs borrowed from @jaredandjensen​.

And there's also the Always Keep Fighting shoutout, the "I love you," Dean calling Sam his "baby brother," the "I can't do this alone/Yes you can/Well I don't want to" parallel with 1.01. Infinite points, friends. I can't count that high.

(Things not to think about: Sam putting Dean's body in the back seat, and then putting the two young brothers in the front and driving them to safety. Sam driving 15 hours back to Lebanon with his brother's body. Do not think about these things.)

Aftermath. Sam and Miracle, and no one else, are giving Dean a hunter's funeral. And I know Covid means Sam couldn't have any friends there, but also? This is kind of perfect. Sam facing it alone. The song we hear as Sam lights his brother's pyre is "Brothers in Arms" by Dire Straits, in case you're not emotionally wrecked yet.

Yeah, I'm already there, thanks anyway.

Next we see Sam's slightly more modern alarm going off at 8:00. Note that Sam gets up later now, because at the beginning of the episode, he had already gone for a run and was cooking breakfast when Dean woke at 8:00. But now there's no one to cook for so he doesn't need to get back early and I AM NOT OKAY.

ANYWAY.

Sam gets up and faces his lonely day. He cooks eggs. One piece of toast pops up. He sits in the library with Miracle and looks at the names carved into the table. He wanders the halls with his dog at his side. (SAM HAVING A DOG WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE HIM HAPPY. IT WAS SUPPOSED TO MAKE US HAPPY. HOW DARE YOU.)

{Sidebar: Has Sam ever had a dog when he wasn't at a low point in his already-low life? Discuss.}

Eventually he finds himself at the door to Dean's room. The room is just as Dean left it, kind of messy, kind of very full of Dean. He sits on Dean's bed and pets the dog and cries and it should come as a surprise to absolutely no one that I am ROLLING AROUND IN ALL OF THIS BEAUTIFUL PAIN.

No one at all.

@annianvi thinks he’s wearing Dean’s hoodie when he cooks his sad lonely breakfast? Could it be?

Sam hears a phone buzzing in Dean's desk. He digs out the one labeled "Dean's other other phone" and answers. The caller asks for "Agent Bon Jovi" and says he's had some bodies turn up without hearts in Austin. "A friend of mine, Donna Hanscum, said you were the one to call." Oooh, are we sending him to Austin? Is Walker, Texas Ranger just going to be another fake name and fake badge? Now that's how you do a spinoff!

{Sidebar: Does Donna know about Dean? Did Sam tell anyone yet? Is the trying to get him out of the bunker and keep him busy? If so, wouldn't she have given the guy Sam's number, not Dean's other other phone? But maybe it's someone she talked to weeks ago. Discuss.}

Sam tells the caller he is on his way, and we see him with a packed bag, heading out of the bunker with Miracle. He turns to look one last time and then turns off all the lights. We haven't seen the bunker this dark since the day they found it. I don't think he's ever coming back. Goodbye, bunker. I know some people hated you, but I was not one of them. {Sidebar: Did he give the bunker key to anyone? Surely he wouldn't want all those resources to go to waste!}

So, I guess the episode title refers to Sam having (choosing?) to carry on after he loses his brother. THIS IS FINE.

Now we're back at Dean's pyre, and this time we drift up with the smoke. We catch up with Dean, outdoors, in a lovely setting with trees and birds. "Well, at least I made it to Heaven," he says. "Yep," someone answers. It's Bobby! Real Bobby, not AU Bobby! Dean's actually standing next to a building - a cabin, maybe - and Bobby is sitting on the porch.

What memory is this?

It ain't, ya idjit.

Yeah it is. Cause the last I heard, you, you were in in Heaven's lockup.

Was. Now I'm not. That kid of yours, before he went wherever, made some changes here. Busted my ass out. And then he, well, set some things right. Tore down all the walls. Heaven ain't just reliving your golden oldies any more. It's what it always should have been. Everyone happy, everyone together. Rufus lives about five miles that way. With Aretha. Thought she'd have better taste. And your mom and dad, they got a place over yonder. It ain't just Heaven, Dean. It's the Heaven you deserve. And we been waiting for you.

So Jack did all that.

Well, Cas helped. It's a big new world out there. You'll see.

So, I guess Cas made it out of the Empty? Dean smiles at that, but doesn't suggest finding him or anything. I approve. Bobby pulls out a couple of beers (the green cooler made it into Heaven!!!) and they share some bad beer. Dean comments that Heaven is "almost perfect," and Bobby knows EXACTLY what's missing, because of course he does. "He'll be along. Time up here, it's different. You got everything you could ever want, or need, or dream. So I guess the question is, what are you gonna do now, Dean?" Well, Dean doesn't have everything he could ever want or need, but he does see one thing - Baby. With her Kansas plates! Friends, that's two things I requested before the end that I didn't think I would ever see: a forehead touch, and Baby wearing her original plates. Thank you, Jack.

Dean's face lights up. "I think I'll go for a drive." As he walks to his car, we see the cabin is actually Harvelle's Roadhouse, albeit smaller, I think. Dean settles into his car and says "Hey, Baby" and when he turns her on, "Carry On Wayward Son" begins to play.

I know he looks good in Purgatory, but DAMN if he don't look fine in Heaven, too.

We cut to the name Dean, which is embroidered on - a little boy's overalls. Sam's little boy. Oh, wow. I was not prepared for this. Sam has a son named Dean, and we switch back and forth between Dean driving through Heaven and scenes of Sam's life with his son and his mysterious, barely-seen wife. She has long dark hair, and I'd like to point out that she could easily be either Eileen or Dr. Cara Roberts. Just saying. Sam's house is full of family photos, including the one of him and Dean from his memory box and a new one from the episode Lebanon. I never thought about the fact that they might have actually taken a photo, and if they did, would it still be around after Sam smashed the pearl? Well, obviously, yes. We see Sam throwing a ball with his son, helping him with his homework (Sam in glasses? Check!) and just obviously really loving this kid and giving him the childhood he never had. We also see a really, really unfortunate grey wig that I refuse to screencap. You're welcome. As aging Sam sits in the hundred-year-old car in his garage, his dead brother drives happily along dirt roads in Heaven, and I'd prefer my Heaven have paved roads, thanks.

We end in Sam's house, now complete with hospital bed. Sam could be in his 80s or even 90s, which means he could have lived another 50 years, more or less, after Dean died. His son doesn't look any older than his 20s or 30s (and also looks vaguely South Asian to me), and I wonder how old Sam was when he finally let himself have a family. Remember when Dean said his happy ending was for Sam to have kids and get old? Well, he got it, finally. Did Sam get a regular job? Did he keep hunting? We don't know. What we do know is that his son has a anti-possession tattoo. Some people have taken this to mean young Dean is a hunter, but I don't think we can jump to that conclusion. It could just be 1) Dean wanted a tattoo like his father's, or b) Sam knows there are still demons out there and that his son would naturally be a target, hunter or not.

All right, I had to screencap teary-eyed Sam grasping the steering wheel and reliving his years with his brother in this car, so we can just pretend we don't see The Wig, okay?

Sam's evidently in hospice care. Or maybe we'll all have hospital beds in our houses in 50 years. Who knows. His son sits on the bed and takes his hand. Sam smiles at him, and Dean says "Dad, it's okay. You can go now." PARALLELLS! As some woman sings "Carry On Wayward Son" for whatever reason (why didn't they use the lovely a cappella version they already had from Fan Fiction?), Sam places his hand on Dean's and takes his last breath.

{Sidebar: Where is Sam's wife in all of this? Divorced? Already dead? She doesn't seem to be in the family pictures, so I'm going with divorced. Discuss.}

Heaven. Oh, guys. I've done this rewatch without tearing up at all but I'm about to tip over. The Impala pulls onto a bridge. Dean gets out. (Now your life's no longer empty, surely Heaven waits for you.) He stands at the bridge railing, enjoying Heaven, smiling. And then he feels something and he smiles even more because he knows it's Sam. Oh god, Jensen did such a good job here. Just this fucking smile killed me dead. "Hey, Sammy," he says. He turns and there is Sam, wearing the same outfit he wore in 1.01 (they both are, but Sam's is a bigger departure from his later years). Why? I don't know. But I know it means Sam Winchester is spending eternity in something that isn't a plaid shirt. How do we feel about that?

"Dean," Sam says. They face each other and smile, and it's the smile of we just survived a hunt I didn't think we'd survive or our son just overpowered God or something along those lines. Then they embrace, and I love the way Sam hesitates just a little before clapping a hand on Dean's back. Like he's afraid it isn't really happening, and he doesn't want to break the illusion. I also love that Dean, as always, takes the top (oh, get your minds out of the gutter) and hugs as if he were taller than Sam. Then Dean puts his hand on the back of Sam's neck and turns him to admire the view and he has this joyous smile like now, this is FINALLY Heaven. And he gazes at Sam like look, Sammy, look what we did. Look what we get. The lack of dialog in this scene is just ~chef's kiss~. The camera goes wide and we see the three main characters, Sam and Dean and Baby, enjoying the Heaven they deserve.

I would like to know where they filmed this, because it's gorgeous even without the Winchesters.

Did Sam's entire life go by in the span of Dean's drive? Or did Dean just decide he'd drive until his brother arrived, no matter how long it took? And how much do I love the fact that he could have gone and visited his parents but instead he said "nah, I'll drive around and wait for Sam?" SO MUCH, PEOPLE. SO MUCH.

Also, can we talk about the fact that Sam didn't know what to expect in Heaven? I mean, Ash said they were soulmates and would share a Heaven, but why would he believe that? And he might have even still believed he'd have a hard time getting into Heaven. What a relief it must have been to show up on Dean's bridge.

And then Jared and Jensen thank us. You're welcome, boys. Thank you.

So. Thursday night I was mildly positive about the episode. But on rewatch, I'm extremely positive. Sure, I would have loved the Six Feet Under ending where we see everyone's fate. And maybe that would have happened if not for Covid. But I'm just relieved we didn't get the Game of Thrones or How I Met Your Mother endings. I'm not sure this current cohort could have done better, honestly. Sam wanted a normal family life. Dean wanted Sam to have a normal family life. But Sam was never going to stop hunting as long as Dean was hunting. And Dean wasn't going to stop hunting as long as he was alive. Dean got the end he wanted/expected and the Heaven he earned (and Sam caring for Jack was directly responsible for Heaven's improvements). Sam got to live a normal life and have a family. As I said earlier, I suspect his marriage didn't last. (Or maybe he and Eileen or Cara got married for insurance purposes, and happily co-parented little Dean, but knew they weren't each other's one true love.) But I actually prefer that. Dean loved Sam more than he loved anyone. Sam loved Dean the same way. I'm glad Sam got to have a child (who he loves as much as his brother, but in a different way), but I don't want Sam and Dean to share their Heaven with Sam's wife.

Now, would I have done Dean's death differently? Yes. I did appreciate that they had him upright, so the brothers were face to face, just like AHBL. But being impaled on a spike was just less dramatic that I would have liked. I would have preferred that Sam immediately see his brother was dying, instead of Dean having to explain it to him. Dean could have had his jugular torn, slowly bleeding out, and still been on his knees (held up by Sam, hell yes) making his deathbed speech. And then I wouldn't have thought "would an ambulance be here by now if you'd called them?" halfway through it.

{Sidebar: What if Sam had fed Dean some blood from one of the dead vamps. Wouldn't that have kept him undead long enough to get fixed up, and then they could have done the vampire cure? Discuss.}

I know some people are very unhappy about the finale. Honestly, from what I can tell, most of those people are hard-core Destiel shippers. And I guess they wanted, as they always do, for the Dean and Castiel relationship to be more important than the Dean and Sam relationship. Sorry, guys, that was never gonna happen. In the end, it came down to the epic love story of Sam and Dean, just as it should have.

So, I'm sad and I'm happy. I'm bereft and I'm full. I miss my boys, but my boys will always be with me. I hope you guys will be with me for a long time, too.

[cupcakemolotov]

Fall With You

I ended up pinch hitting for the exchange! It was fun, if slightly wild 48 hours to put this together. Written for the lovely @queencarolinemikaelson​. I’m really glad you enjoyed it since it ended up being a fluff fest of roommate co-hab. Also a big thank you to @bellemorte180​ for putting this graphic together!

I put the first but under a cut, bit under a cut, but the full story is almost 9K, so the link to the story is at the bottom. :)

Summary: When life throws her a curve ball in the form of her good looking, yet moody roommate, Caroline takes it in stride as best she can. Her living situation was a favor, after all, and rent is anything but cheap in NYC. Its the part where she actually starts to like him that she can't quiet figure out how to manage. Lust was one thing, but feelings? 

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate; Universe - Human; Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates; Minor Character Death; not otp; Family Drama; Family Dynamics; Fluff and Humor; Domestic Fluff; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Mild Smut; Human Caroline Forbes; Human Klaus Mikaelson; Living Room Picnics; Wine; Dates That Aren't Dates; They Could Really Get Their Shit Together Faster; but not really; Making Out; Some petting; NSFW just to be safe            

It was almost three am, her feet were killing her, and her key was stuck in her front door.

Seriously, what was with her luck today? The door had always been finicky, but until earlier this week the lock had been behaving itself. It’d gone from not wanting to turn properly to straight up mutiny in four days. It was an easy fix, unlike the door, but it also required a trip to the store and she just hadn’t had time. Amazon could have delivered the powdered graphite, but she was on a budget and believed in shopping local.

Her two year savings plan to finish her degree would not manifest itself if she bought things simply because they were convenient.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Caroline seriously considered just leaning up against the door jam and spending the night outside. It was early summer, and the air had cooled to a balmy sixty-five degrees, leaving the usually stifling hallway almost comfortable. If only she didn’t smell so heavily of beer. Shifting her weight, she winced as her shoes squelched, a reminder of the truly spectacular ending to her night. Her eight hour shift had almost doubled when the night shift manager had called in sick. Usually that wouldn’t have been a problem, but the only other person with keys was out of town leaving Caroline holding the bag to close.

She knew from experience that she had about an hour before she crashed, the rush from kicking out the lingering guests who had been clearly on an epic brawl crawl having mostly faded after the hour long subway ride home. Right then, the only thing keeping her upright was the fact that she was starving, her dinner had been rushed and only half eaten, and the knowledge that if she made it into her apartment she had the next two days off. Tomorrow she could sleep in, and if she was really lucky, her roommate’s night had gone well enough he could be coaxed into making pancakes.

Cheered by the thought, Caroline dug out her cell phone from the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and checked it for a response. She hadn’t been sure if Klaus had beaten her home or if he was still out celebrating, but either way, he hadn’t bothered to respond yet. Her lips compressed into a thin line.

Usually, she could depend on Klaus to be awake when she finished a night shift, her roommates' hours were only reliable on how sporadic they were and depending on her schedule, hers weren’t much better. But with his big event tonight, she had no idea what he had decided to do. Honestly, would it kill the man to respond to her texts?

She’d expected him to ignore her rapidly typed apology and well wishes she’d sent in-between bites of food. Klaus wasn’t particularly good at handling sentiment of any kind and supremely anti-emoji, and she’d made a point to send several of them. She’d hoped it’d give him something to be annoyed about that wasn’t his evening plans. He needed to schmooze, and a scowl-y Klaus would not accomplish that at all.

He could be charming, when he wanted to be. She’d seen it. He just didn’t deploy full dimples unless he wanted something. Her reminders the night before that he needed to earn his half of the rent without getting carpal tunnel hadn't impressed him.

Too bad. She’d been right, and he’d known it.

He had mentioned a couple of his friends were trying to talk him into drinks afterwards, back when she had thought she might be able to join him. Usually, she would be thrilled that he was getting out and actually seeing people instead of trying to live off granola bars and tea. But right then she really wanted him to be home and grumpy so he could unlock the door. She wondered if texting Marcel with an S.O.S would be rude?

Things were a lot less complicated when she only liked Klaus for the rent he helped cover. Wanting him home, even just for a lock-related emergency wasn’t a thought she would have had even six months ago. Klaus was not what one would label as a comfortable roommate for most of the time. He was far too prickly for that, and he could be snarly in the mornings. Which fair, so could she, but the moodiness. Caroline hadn’t been one to spend much time around the art scene, either at Uni or in high school, but she’d spent the last year learning that there was a lot to be said about artistic temperaments, most of it unflattering.

She was fairly certain Klaus had been born a contrary grump, his winning personality had nothing to do with his chosen profession, she could certainly see how he’d been drawn to the lifestyle, talent aside. Most people immediately laughed off his acerbic tongue once they learned he was an artist, his behavior brushed aside as temperamental. His goods certainly helped his cause, and his accent added a layer of charm that otherwise might not have existed.

She was not so forgiving.

The first few months of their co-hab had not been easy. Klaus was messy, absent minded, and had ruined three of her towels with paint splatter before she’d blown her lid. The apartment was small enough that avoiding each other was nearly impossible, and her preferred kind of stress relief had to be timed for when she was alone, and so they’d been forced to deal with their annoyances. To Klaus’ credit, while he’d been snappish in return, he’d somehow managed to keep a lid on the worst of his temper.

They’d argued, multiple times, they were both stubborn and used to being right, but they’d eventually found some kind of middle ground. Snapping had softened into bickering, and Caroline had stopped nitpicking him about his notebooks being spread across the house and the incorrect way he rolled his toothpaste, and he stopped leaving towels on the floor and made a point to contain his absentminded mess to his room.

And then they started to talk, sometimes about work, sometimes about art, and she’d realized she kind of liked him as a person. She’d started dragging him to her group lunches on her days off, much to Rebekah’s despair, and they might have become something like friends. Except for the part where every so often, she’d look at him and something about the way he stood, the angle of his jaw or the line of his throat left her wanting to jump his bones.

It was really frustrating, when her existence didn’t even seem to phase him.

So she’d done her best to ignore whatever that little spark was between them when it flared up, and not upset the status quo. Because the past year had been better than she could have imagined. Before her mom had died, she would never have considered the life she found herself living now as a good one.

She’d just wrapped her third year at NYU, had exactly 24 hours of classes left before graduation, and had managed to wrangle her schedule so that her final semester would be a cake walk of classes. The cherry on top had been the kick ass internship she’d lined up for the summer. Her five year plan was perfectly on track, her excellent grades gave her a shot at graduating with honors, and she couldn’t wait to show her mom around New York City from the eyes of a local. She’d spent three years putting together a binder, collecting menus from her favorite places to eat and brochures from all the museums and the jam packed tourists locations to offer her mom some variety.

Then she’d gotten that phone call that had thrown everything into a tale spin.

Blowing out a breath, Caroline bounced on her toes and debated best her course of action. She could probably get her key out of the lock if she was very careful, though the past twenty minutes said her luck wasn’t great, Forbes women were nothing if not stubborn, but there was also a chance she would break the key off in the lock and she could already see the little smirk on Klaus’ face if she did. Her hand tightened on the strap of her backpack. He still hadn’t forgiven her for being far more comfortable with power tools than he was and her perfectly reasonable gloating probably hadn’t helped much, if she was honest.

She kind of didn’t regret it. Poking Klaus sizable ego was a favorite past time of hers, and he seemed to enjoy their back and forth as much as she did. Her mental tally had her up two points this month, and she wanted to keep her lead.

Unfortunately, things weren’t really going in her favor just then. Sighing, Caroline tucked her phone back into her bag and admitted defeat. She’d have to figure this one out herself. Either Klaus’ event had run long and he had actually taken her advice to schmooze people or he was home and had drunk enough that he was sleeping like the dead.

Either of those options would not help her now.

Her best bet now was to go and eat a giant piece of pie, drink her weight in caffeine, and trudge her way to the little mom and pop shop that sold a little of everything, including graphite, once it became a reasonable hour. She’d fix her lock and then crash for the following eight hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep, and leave a very pointed sticky note on the coffee pot so Klaus knew not to disturb her.

Satisfied with the makings of her plan, she shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, mentally reviewing the pie menu, and paused when the elevator dinged from behind her. Sliding her teeth between her lip, Caroline turned and blew out a breath when she recognized the tumble of ruffled curls stepping into the hall. The hallway was dimly lit, so it took a moment for her brain to really understand what else she was seeing.

Klaus was wearing a tux.

Logically, she’d known he was going to be wearing one. His event that night had been important, his work had finally made it into a gallery tonight and it was a Big Deal. His first real show outside of the fancy art school he had attended, and he had spent months fretting over his work and brooding silently in his room as nothing met his incredibly exacting standards. Klaus had even brought home a couple of canvas to work in the questionable light of his bedroom instead of the small studio space he and five other artists pooled their money to share.

Much to her annoyance.

No amount of febreeze really removed the scent of acrylics and turpentine, and she’d been worried if she tried to burn her stash of scented candles something would catch on fire. She’d held her tongue though, because Klaus was never nervous. He was in fact annoyingly difficult to rattle even in the most ridiculous of situations, the man had absolutely no shame, and the way he’d almost jittered had been weird and kind of enduring. Since he’d seen her in numerous states of frantic and alarmed, it was nice for things to end up on a little more even ground for once. She’d done her best to force him to eat something that looked like actual food every so often, and tried to stay quiet when she knew he was working in his bedroom.

She’d even helped him pick out the tuxedo from the catalogue he’d brought home from the store he had planned to rent from. There was a fancy evening gown that she’d rented hanging in her closet that Caroline had planned to wear to go with him before work had made that impossible. But knowing all that, and actually seeing him in that tux were not nearly the same thing.

Caroline blinked rapidly. Her paint speckled roommate, with his surly attitude and annoying dimples, was wearing a tux. And he looked really, really good. He’d undone his tie so it hung loosely around his neck, and his jacket was loose and unbuttoned around his waist, his curls still somewhat tamed along his forehead. Something very much like arousal jolted through her as he looked up, the low light highlighting the scruff along his jaw and the length of his neck. For a moment, he just stared at her, as surprised as she and then his head tipped and his brow arched, lips tugging up at the corners.

“Waiting on me?”

The rest can be found here: A03

[be11atrixthestrange]

Waking Up In Vegas: Chapter 1

After a night of debauchery, Ron and Hermione wake up in Vegas... married.

Muggle!AU. Romcom!Romione. Slow burning, smutty, angst-fest.

Rated M for reasons.

Ao3 | FFN

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More Chapters

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Chapter 1

[Ron]

Ron wakes up to the strong desert sunlight assaulting his eyelids and turns onto his stomach to bury his face into his pillow. The bed is so warm and comfortable, the satin sheets enveloping him into a nourishing hug. The pillow has somehow maintained its shape and is just the right combination of cold and cozy. His back feels fine, which very much exceeds his expectations, based on how his back usually feels when he wakes up. Maybe an expensive mattress is just what he needs.

Soon enough, his real-life anxieties start to surface. How much does this mattress cost, anyway? What about these sheets? How much extra did this room charge for the scented pillows? Am I even paying for it?

He tentatively opens his eyes, zeroing in on a tray that lies on the floor by his bed. It's adorned with discarded chocolate-covered strawberries, two empty champagne flutes, and a bottle of whipped cream. He never eats whipped cream.

Did I have a girl over last night?

Ron sucks in a breath and freezes in his satin sheets. Gingerly, he turns his head to the other side of the bed, catching a whiff of the pillows he thought were scented before.

Perfume, you idiot.

He lifts his gaze over the mountain of fluffy blankets and high-thread-count sheets, half expecting to see wispy blonde hair glossing the pillow and a hot-pink nightgown that doesn't entirely cover her familiar set of curves. Maybe there would even be lipstick streaked across the pillows. Bloody hell, perhaps he was covered in lipstick, too. Do they charge extra to clean up shit like that? He wouldn't know; he doesn't stay in hotels often.

Honestly, he may have been relieved if Lavender was beside him. They dated for years, and he knows her well. Ever since they broke up, she's been not-so-subtly trying to get him back in bed. She likes having sex with him, and quite frankly, he likes it too. At this point, he knows her body well. She's difficult to disappoint.

On the other hand, she may have mistaken him sleeping with her for regret about ending things, and he has no desire to set the record straight again. Las Vegas is already far enough out of his comfort zone, so Ron will do what it takes to avoid any conflict on this trip.

However, he doesn't have to worry about that because when he peers over the blankets, the girl sleeping beside him is not Lavender Brown.

Instead of a hot-pink nightgown, she's wearing a black pair of mens' boxers and a bright orange Chudley Cannons T-Shirt, with the words "World's Best Coach" emblazoned across the back. He loves that shirt. It was a gift from the youth football team he's coached for years, and he never even let Lavender wear it. Not that she ever asked to, but that's beside the point.

Who the fuck is she?

Still, her head is buried under her pillows, effectively masking her identity. He reaches toward the pillows and gently lifts them to reveal her face, or more accurately, her hair. There's so much goddamn hair. It looks like someone has loaded a t-shirt cannon with curly brown hair and unleashed it onto the pillow beside him.

No. It can't be...

He wonders how he survived the night unstrangled when his companion's hair moves on its own accord like the limbs of a sentient and unpredictable willow tree. Is it as easy to anger as its owner? It begs the question — how the hell has he managed to wake up next to Hermione Jean Granger, his sister's nightmare of a Maid of Honor?

Swiftly but smoothly, he removes his blankets and rises to his feet, only to discover that he's completely starkers. He grabs the first thing he can find — a towel — and wraps it around his hips while he searches the floor for something to wear. Luckily, he's in his hotel room, and his suitcase is wide open on the floor. He exhales a sigh of relief and collapses next to it, pulling garments out one by one. He lands on a pair of inside-out khaki shorts and red short-sleeve button-down, one of his favorite shirts that Lavender would never let him wear. She always said it clashed with his hair.

When he turns the shorts right, a piece of paper floats to the ground. It must have been folded up into his pocket. Out of curiosity, he picks it up and unravels it. He has to read it twice before realization kicks in, and his jaw drops to the floor. His hand is suddenly shaky, but not enough to obscure the words 'Marriage Certificate' across the top.

It's even signed and dated. Ron B. Weasley. Hermione J. Granger. Fuck. This had to be some sort of a practical joke.

He looks back to the bed, and he can't ignore the dread pooling in the pit of his stomach. Hermione's head is still buried under the pillows, the Chudley Cannons Tee rising and falling rhythmically with her breath. Suddenly, he's extremely nervous. She'll wake up soon, and what will happen when she sees him?

She'll probably be pretty upset. Unlike Lavender, she seems easy to disappoint.

Bloody hell.

x

One week earlier…

"I'm Hermione Granger."

She extends a hand to Ron, who reluctantly shakes it. Firm handshake.

"And you are?"

"I'm Ron." She raises her eyebrows. "Ron Weasley? The bride's brother? The groom's best friend?" He tries not to be offended when she removes her hand and wipes it on her trousers. "You honestly don't know me?"

"I figured," she shrugs. "But most people introduce themselves without assuming others know who they are."

Her unfiltered judgment catches him off guard. It strikes a nerve, and he can't help but wonder why Ginny has selected her as her Maid of Honor.

His instinct is to snap right back, but he fights it. He is about to embark on a ten-day international trip to celebrate his sister's wedding, and as the Best Man, he'll be working closely with Hermione and the other bridesmaids, one of them being his ex-girlfriend. It is going to be rough already.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Hermione Granger," he says as cheerfully as he can muster. He'll just have to get through this trip, and he'll never have to see her again.

Her reply is annoyingly curt. "Thanks." She takes a seat and motions for him to do the same. The gesture is subtle, but it keeps him on edge. He doesn't need permission to sit down. He's tempted to keep standing simply out of spite, but on the other hand, he would like to avoid a power struggle.

He shakes his head as if doing so would reset this terrible first impression. He wants to like her — she's one of Ginny's best friends — but he already feels himself building a wall.

She waves down a server, and Ron squirms at how impatient she seems. What's her rush? The server grumbles when he approaches, and Ron tries to send an apologetic glance his way. "I'll have an iced coffee."

The server nods, then glances expectantly at Ron. "Oh erm... same, I guess.".

"No straws," adds Hermione.

"Noted," quips the server.

"Actually," says Ron, "I would like a straw."

"Straws are awful for the environment," she says when the server's out of earshot. "You don't really need them."

Ron fights the urge to roll his eyes. He's determined to keep it cool, so he takes a steadying breath and changes the subject. "We should compare itineraries for the bride and groom."

"Yes, I agree. In fact, I have put together a tentative plan for the joint stag and hen party." She slides a piece of paper across the table to him. The level of detail is horrendous. It's also laminated. She's organized, that's for sure.

"Hold on," he says. "A joint stag and hen party?"

"Yes, it's more efficient this way. You can see on page four, I've already made reservations at a hotel on The Strip, and for pretty much everything, bigger parties mean bigger discounts."

Ron's heart sinks. He has been planning a surprise stag party for Harry, and he was pretty excited about it. Harry wouldn't go for this. There's no way.

"Hermione, I think the boys would prefer a separate party." Ron was also looking forward to a night out with just the boys — Harry, Neville, Dean, and Seamus. It would be a very different experience if the girls were there too. Well, Ginny, Luna, and Demelza would be fun. Lavender? Hermione? No thanks.

"I've already spoken to Harry, and he loves the idea."

Ron straightens up and stares back at her, for a moment forgetting to mask his hurt. "He… what?"

"Yeah, he already agreed to it."

Their conversation pauses as the waiter returns to deliver their iced coffee. Hermione scowls at Ron and rolls her eyes as he takes a long drag from his plastic straw. Maybe he should ask for a second one just to tick her off some more.

Keep it cool, Ron.

Hermione's expression softens. "I know it must be awkward for you to spend so much time with your ex-girlfriend. Ginny told me about the breakup. She wasn't expecting you two to split before the wedding,"

Unfortunately, the Lavender thing contributes to his resistance to a joint party, but he hates that she can sense that. He hates that Ginny told her about his breakup.

"Look," says Hermione, leaning closer.

He's skeptical of what she might say, but it seems like she's genuinely trying to be caring, so he leans in to listen.

"It'll be hard, but we can't let our personal issues affect this. This wedding is about Harry and Ginny. No one else."

Ron sinks dejectedly back into his chair, immediately regretting giving her the benefit of the doubt. Our personal issues. "What are you saying?"

"I'm asking that we don't bring any unnecessary drama along. Leave it here, and focus on the bride and groom."

"We?"

She nods. "Yes, we. I will also leave my issues at home." She really is infuriating. He's going to have a chat with his sister about her choice of best friend.

"So no drama at the wedding. None." He takes another swig of his drink, raising his eyebrows at her. She scowls again at the straw.

"No drama."

"Deal." He reaches out a hand, and she takes it. Another firm handshake.

Then, something on his face catches her eye. "You've got something on your nose."

He releases her hand and rubs his nose.

She shrugs. "Must have been dirt."

He forces his lips into a smile and wonders if it looks as fake as the one she returns.

What a nightmare.

x

He's pulled out of his reverie by an abrupt jerking of limbs from the bed. Hermione's rhythmic breathing turns into a groan when she tugs the pillow off of her head. She slaps a hand over her eyes when the sunlight hits them, and she groans again, angrily this time. Any illusions of peacefulness are a far distant memory.

When she finally opens her eyes, it's her look of horror that alerts Ron to the fact that he never put on his khaki shorts and a red shirt. He's still hovering next to her bed in a towel, staring at her. He's suddenly very aware of how pale and freckly he is.

"Why are you—?" Eyes wide, she rises to a seat in bed, her hair billowing in every possible direction. She looks down at her body and pinches his Cannons shirt with her fingers like it's a dirty napkin. "Why am I wearing this?" She glances back at Ron and scowls. "Why am I here?"

Ron opens his mouth to answer, but he is unprepared to fill her in. Like her, he has not yet processed this. Before he can explain, the towel starts to unravel from his hips. He motions to catch it, but his right hand is clutching his clothes, and his left hand is clutching a goddamn marriage certificate, so the towel unwinds and lands in a pile on the floor. When Hermione's eye line lowers, her cheeks blush. Ron can't tell if she's embarrassed, angry, or impressed, but he hopes for a combination of the three.

"Morning!" He grins goofily, emulating the falsely excited tone he's become so accustomed to using around her.

It brings her gaze back to his eyes. "Ronald Weasley. What the hell is going on?"

[dramioneasks]

HP FESTS: dramione_duet (part 4)

dramione_duet 2019:

Collision Course by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead) - M, one-shot - Lying to oneself is a tricky thing. A thing that could only last so long.When someone from Hermione Granger's past resurfaces in the present, long-buried truths come to light.

On Fire by Frumpologist - M, one-shot - Hermione is arrested and forced to share a prison cell with Malfoy for the weekend. It’s the worst possible scenario with the best possible outcome.

Have You Tried Wingardium Leviosa? by Darkrivertempest - M, one-shot - It's Hermione Granger's first day at her new Ministry job.She soon finds that her co-workers are crazy, her ex frequently asks for the department's help, and she's paired with Draco Malfoy for an important mission.What could go wrong?

One Cup, Precisely by torigingerfox - G, one-shot - Hermione and Draco have been married for three years. They live happily in Malfoy Manor, where Hermione has established her Alchemy Laboratory. She's deep in research for a new compound, when Draco shows up for breakfast. What will happen when Draco's tea drops, and teacups might be Hermione's only hope to undo an experiment gone wrong?

Hero Complex by tygermine - T, 5 chapters - Hermione is trying to keep her Menagerie from closing down. In an effort to stop this, she stumbles onto a murder, political games and a missing persons case.

Trust Me, Darling by Drewzer7717 - M, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are work partners who have been assigned to bring in a new financial donor. The donor insists on conducting business at a party thrown in her honor. They both have a little too much to drink and can't apparate home, bed sharing ensues.

In The Nirvana by shapphire (ChiakiFujiwara) - G, one-shot - With only two of them, could they make it?

Bloody Janus by mister_otter - M, one-shot - It's Halloween at Hogwarts, the most magical time of the wizarding year. Mysterious autumn is in the air. Anything might happen. And this year, it does.

One Step Closer by articcat621 - T, one-shot - Before they take the next step in their relationship, Hermione wants Draco to know everything.

Little Bites by RZZMG - M, 11 chapters - Some girls got hearts and love and body positivity and an everlasting supply of chocolates.Some girls got…Quidditch tickets.Hermione Granger's about to meet the temptation of her life: a man who wants to give her all of the above.

Mismatched by Misdemeanor1331 - T, one-shot - Brought together by the Ministry of Magic’s Marriage Law, Draco and Hermione work together to undermine the edict and subvert their arranged marriage while most decidedly not falling in love in the process.

Finding My Heart, And My Head by Charlie9646 - E, one-shot - Hermione Granger is desperate to find her parents. But no one – besides who she least expects to want to help – can go with her. The truth is, though, he has more in common with her than she thinks.

dramione_duet 2020: 

Court Sessions and Misimpressions by aetherioswrites - M, 6 chapters - Draco Malfoy has been the singular bane of Hermione's political existence ever since she had started working at the Ministry. After surviving three years of snark, smirks, and impossibly elegant snorts, she thought she was prepared for anything her colleague would throw at her... until he started bringing his son to work. Really, it was a shame someone so infuriating had to have such an adorable baby.

Peppermint Martinis and Hangover Potionss by articcat621 - T, one-shot - The Christmas party brings two unsuspecting people together.

Tightly Wound by bloominglover - E, one-shot - When Malfoy and Granger won't stop bickering, Headmistress McGonagall tethers them together until they work things out, by any means necessary

This Year To Save Me From Tears, I'll Give It To Someone Special by bootsy_mine - T, one-shot - With his father in Azkaban the outlook for a happy Christmas is not very good for one Draco Malfoy so why must Granger decorate their common space and sing Christmas songs constantly to remind him?

Carpe Piscis by tygermine - M, one-shot - There's a creature eating children. Hermione is sent to investigate.

The New Old-Fashioned Way by earlgreyhot - T, one-shot - Bringing home a Christmas tree is the least of Draco and Hermione's problems, not when they can't agree on how to decorate it.

Chasing Forever by floorcoaster - M, one-shot - After a shocking turn of events, Hermione worries her marriage isn't as strong as she thought.

Mr. Malfoy's Lonely Hearts Christmas Party by dirtymudblood - E, one-shot - It was quite simple. If you wanted to meet your soulmate, you attended Draco Malfoy’s Christmas celebration.Ms. Hermione Granger, Mr. Draco Malfoy formally invites you to a Christmas celebration to be hosted at his residence, Malfoy Manor, December the 25th at 6 p.m. Please arrive by floo in the main parlour. Dress code is black tie preferred. Mr. Malfoy hopes to see you soon.

The Peppermint Problem by maraudersaffair - T, one-shot - Professor Malfoy has an allergic reaction to peppermint candy canes. Healer Hermione to the rescue!

My hands are shaking from holding back from you by weestarmeggie - E, one-shot - It's Christmas Eve at The Burrow and Hermione's waiting for everything to kick off.“That will be Harry and the boys.” Hermione nodded, still thinking about what Ginny had said when Harry and the boys stepped into view. She stood suddenly, her stool toppling back as they came into view. “What are you doing here?” “Well, Granger,” Draco Malfoy said, stroking a hand through his hair as he met her glare with one of his own, “it’s nice to see you too.”

Good Things Come In Threes by RZZMG - M, 12 chapters - Draco Malfoy's been cursed with Lord Voldemort's Necromantic powers, and now everything he touches that is dead is reborn as a monstrous revenant! Determined to rid himself of the curse, he concocts a scheme to win over Hermione Granger to guarantee her help, for it seems she knows the secret to the Philosopher's Stone and the Elixir of Life it produces...and that ancient magic may just be the key to a cure!Post-war, 8th year. A/U (Epilogue? What Epilogue?).

Hermione Granger and the Very Nice Book Shop by sapphirephoenix - E, one-shot - Hermione has her mind set on adventure and books. What treasures will she find in wizarding Wigtown?

Never Have I Ever by meditationsinemergencies - E, one-shot - After being matched fo marriage due to the new marriage law, Draco and Hermione spend their honeymoon trying to get to know one another by playing a few games.

Of Ghosts and Gifts by mister_otter - T, one-shot - Draco Malfoy's solitary Christmas Eve turns into more of an adventure than he could ever have imagined, thanks to a pretty witch and a small, helpful (??) ghost.

The Duel Off! by WhatSoMalfoy - E, one-shot - Kingsley Shacklebolt is resigning as Minister for Magic and Hermione wishes to run for the position. However, a new edict declares that anyone wishing to fill the position MUST be competent in offensive and defensive magic. And so, the Duel Off was born. Feeling like this was not her strongest area of expertise, Hermione turns to her Auror husband, Draco, for some further instruction. Draco finds a way to give Hermione just that *little* extra incentive to do her best.

This fest is ongoing.

[theashemarie]

Sparks in the Sky | Pearlina

Written for Frost Bytes Zine! Please go support the full zine, as a lot of people worked very hard on it! I’m very honored to be apart of it! 

This is a collab with @katiemonz​! Her piece is reblogged below, and we ask that you share the version with both pieces! 

[Crossposted on ao3.]

--

Outside, snow falls like silent starlight. Pearl watches it from her spot in the kitchen, shivering in her thin leggings and t-shirt. Soon, she’ll have to shrug into a hoodie and socks, but for now she’s enjoying the cold, enjoying watching the flecks of snow as they land against the window and melt. The city beyond is dark, quiet in the pitch of the blackout, and white, the only electric light from cars as they glide along the roads slowly.

The blackout wasn’t expected but also isn’t a surprise. The Great Zapfish doesn’t like blizzards and the snowfall and ice are so dramatic that they drag the electrical lines down, so there’s always at least one every winter. The blackouts aren’t usually this close to the holidays though, but Pearl’s been living in this city her whole life so nothing surprises her anymore.

“How long do you think it’ll last?” Marina is bundled up on the couch, covered in blankets and dressed in her thickest flannel pajamas. She and the cold don’t get along because she’s used to the perpetual tropics of the domes in Octo Valley—something that Pearl can’t fathom, being a child of the surface and its seasons—so this time of year she’s usually nothing more than a ball of fleece, flannel, sweaters, fake fur, hoodies, boots, scarves, and her beloved fuzzy socks. Pearl can see a pair of them now, red and green, poking out from the bottom of her favorite blanket.

“Probably all night. The roads ain’t safe so they can’t get crews out to fix it.” Pearl glances back to see Marina worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, staring down at her lap. “Hey, it’ll be okay. We have the ceramic heater.”

They do—one of the perks of living in their so-old-it-might-as-well-be-vintage apartment. Almost all the other buildings in downtown use solely electric heating because it’s more efficient, but this building is the oldest one that Pearl’s family owns, the one that probably should be at the top of the renovation shortlist—and it has undergone some reno: they have electric heating in the floors of the bathrooms and their bedroom and wall-mounted air conditioners—but living here is a compromise. The truth is that Pearl wanted to be in one of those newer buildings, with all the metal and glass, the hard tile floors, the central heating and cooling, but Marina wanted vintage; Marina wanted warmth; Marina wanted a place that wasn’t blindingly white. Marina is someone who, after years spent in a world of metal and militaristic order, wanted natural materials and the raw, methodical chaos of brick.

Marina loves wood floors that are so old they feel soft. And Pearl loves Marina. So, they live here, on the top floor of one of the oldest buildings in downtown with wood floors and exposed brick and a balcony with wrought iron railings. There are drafts and the faucets used to leak, but it’s packed to the gills with personality and love. Downtown is Pearl’s half of the compromise: she wanted to be here, in the middle of everything, close to the studio and the square and Starfish Mainstage and The Reef, and Marina, despite favoring the quiet of the suburbs, loves Pearl, so they’ve found their small, warm home here.

And they have their ceramic heater, connected to the gas, and their gas stove and their gas water heater, so things could be worse. Way worse. Which reminds her...

“Reena... Listen, I won’t lie. Power’s out, snow’s coming down. It’s gonna get cold. You know what that means,” Pearl says, one eyebrow rising like a question mark.

Marina looks up at her, thoughtful, and then grins. She throws off her blanket and springs to her feet. “I’ll get the marshmallows!”

+++

They make s’mores on the stove after igniting the gas with a lighter, hold metal skewers out over the small flame, and toast their marshmallows as well as they can. Eventually, Pearl gets too cold to hide it and her teeth begin to chatter, which makes Marina point her toward their room with a stern glance. Pearl grumbles away, and she begrudgingly pulls on her biggest, pinkest hoodie, a bobble hat, and a pair of Marina’s socks. They’re too big so they crawl up her legs to her knees.

Carefully, she moves the velvet bag from the waistband of her leggings to the large front pocket of her hoodie, feeling to make sure the ring is still there. It’ll be much more secure there.

When Pearl returns, Marina is waist deep in a bottom cupboard, searching for candles. “Enough flashlights,” she says when Pearl comes up behind her and puts a hand on her back. The s’mores are sitting on a plate, chocolate oozing. “We need some warm light.”

They pick out giant three-wick candles—cranberry and fleece scented—and light them. Marina’s face, cast in a golden light, looks beautiful as she sets the candles down around their small, sweet feast. Behind them, the Squidmas tree, merry in its dressing, tinsel, and ornaments, sits dark, with a multitude of colorful presents—half wrapped by Marina’s careful, precise hands and the other half stuffed into bags messily by Pearl—lying underneath, expectantly, with all the patience of freshly fallen snow.

Of course, the most important present, the one Pearl’s been hiding since the Final Fest, is deep within the pocket of her hoodie. The only way to keep the small gold circlet hidden was to keep it on her person at all times, even when she slept and showered. She doesn’t have the traditional box because that would give her away, and instead she keeps the ring tucked away in a small, velvet drawstring bag.

Five months of hiding, of waiting, of panicking and Pearl is almost at the finish line. Squidmas morning, when it’s just the two of them, the presents, and mugs of sugary hot cocoa, she’s going to do it. She’s going to take that knee and pop that question.

Or so she tells herself.

“Pearlie,” Marina says, drawing Pearl out of her intense second-guessing. “They’re gonna get cold!”

Pearl grins at her, trying to look convincing and not like she’s beating herself up for taking so long. Five months —

She bites into her s’more, crunching the graham cracker in half with her teeth. Chocolate oozes out and she has to dart and lean over the counter to keep it from dripping on her shirt. Marina laughs at her.

Once they’re done eating, Marina pads toward the window, worrying her lip again. The snow is still coming down in small, individual crystals that paint the sky in great flurries of white. Luckily, the moon is bright tonight, so they can see the city clearly, and the stars are vivid—

Wait.

“Pearl...” Marina says, realizing at the same time. “The stars ...”

With all the light pollution gone, the stars are singing clearly from between the clouds. Marina’s hands come up to cover her mouth, and Pearl stares at her, at those long, precise fingers, and she feels something shift inside her, sending up a small blizzard of confusion in her stomach. This is...

“Reena...” Pearl says, suddenly alive with a fever that warms her through. She feels her face heat up as a plan forms. “We have to stay here in the living room tonight... The ceramic heater will keep us warm. I have— I have an idea! Don’t move!”

“Wh— Pearlie... What ?”

Pearl darts across the room, slipping in her socks, and cranks the knob on the heater up, sees the coils turn color as the gas kicks on and the small flame inside ignites. Then, she spins around, snatches Marina’s favorite blanket off the couch, and scurries to their room, digs around in their closet, and grabs as many blankets as she can carry. She dumps these on the ground right in front of the balcony doors, and makes one more mad dash, this time for the bathroom, where she grabs three large, fluffy towels.

When she returns, Marina is standing near the blanket pile, staring at it pensively, and she sends Pearl a confused, worried look. Pearl waves her off and drops to her knees. The floor is frigid this close to the old, single-paned doors, and she quickly stuffs the towels near the bottom, trying to block the cold from seeping in through the small crack. Then, she gathers up the blankets again and organizes them into a haphazard pile, creating a soft pallet on their old, worn, wood floor.

“C’mon.” Pearl holds her hands out and Marina carefully places her fingers into Pearl’s warm palms. Pearl guides her down, sets her right in the middle of the pile, grabs two more blankets, and drapes them over her. Marina chuckles and pulls them tighter around herself.

“I’ll be right back,” Pearl says, holding her hands out like Marina’s liable to disappear. It’s just that this moment feels suddenly special, feels like she needs to make it count, because it’s never this quiet and dark in the city and it’s the holidays and Pearl actually feels like this all means something, like this little bubble of warmth that they’re creating needs to be enjoyed completely and what better way to do that than in a pile of blankets, staring up at the stars?

Pearl scoops up the candles—dangerously, one in the crook of her elbow—and deposits them carefully around the small nest and crawls close to Marina, who opens up the blankets to let her in.

They stare up, up, up through the wide glass of the balcony doors, at the panorama of the sky, and watch the stars. The candles flicker around them, like small facsimiles for the distant sparks painted on the horizon. Marina raises one arm and points out constellations, using the old human names like Gemini, Orion, Hydra, but Pearl is far too fascinated with the light reflecting in Marina’s eyes.

“I haven’t seen the stars since Mt. Nantai,” Marina says into the quiet, whispering it against the glass as she leans close to see, breath appearing in a small burst of white on its surface. “Since I popped my head out of Octo Valley and climbed out.”

Pearl, taken back for a second, back to when Marina had short hair and Pearl was aching for a best friend, answers a bit belatedly: “We’ve visited Mt. Nantai since then.”

Marina looks back at her, cheeks painted with a light blush. “I wasn’t exactly looking at the stars then. I had more important things to look at.”

The look she gives Pearl is so full of tenderness that it strikes Pearl right in the chest. “Oh ,” she breathes. “S-same.”

Usually, she doesn’t get flustered like this, but something about the blackout, how close they’re sitting, the sight of the stars, the distinct shape of the engagement ring digging into her palm, where she’s clutching it inside her pocket, is making her soft. Her chest feels like it’s gearing up for a timpani solo.

This is it , she realizes as Marina smiles softly at her and focuses back on the stars. Forget Squidmas morning. This is it, back to where they started—just them, the stars, and nature. Of course, back then, Pearl never imagined that she’d fall in love with anyone , let alone Marina, and it took a few years to get here, but she’s not about to look this cosmic realignment in the face and say no.

“Reena...” she says, pulling her hand free. The velvet bag is there, and she can feel the ring through it. She removes it with shaking fingers. Outside, the snow continues to fall, covering the balcony and the furniture they forgot to pull inside.

Pearl shakes the ring into her palm. “Marina... It’s early, but I have a present for you.”

Marina turns. Pearl holds the ring up, stomach dropping open like a snowflake in freefall.

Marina’s eyes land on the ring. Pearl smiles with as much confidence as she can muster.

Marina’s face lights up like the stars in the night’s sky. 

[mysterylover123]

Top 10 Bakugou Moments I Can’t Wait to see Animated!

MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD THROUGH 251

Our loudmouthed Lord Explosion Murder sure has grown up a lot, hasn’t he? While there was traceable growth in him even before The Thing happened (The Thing being Episode 61), he really shot off like a rocket on the Character Development Train following that grand wakeup call. Since he’s basically on hiatus from the anime until we get through the damn basement arc (sorry to those who like it, I just think it’s way too long) I thought I’d celebrate the Top 10 Katsuki Bakugou moments from the manga I can’t wait to see animated.

#10. “That’s a good look for you, dreamy boy!”

Chapter 166

I’m basically hyped to get to all of the Todoroki/Bakugou shenanigans from the License Retake mini-arc (every interaction they have here is gold) but this moment stands out as the most fun one to see transfer to animation. Bakugou actually laughs for once at a joke rather than his own triumph; his line is translated differently, either as an actual compliment to Camie or a borderline flirty, teasing comment towards Todoroki. Either way, it’s funny as hell, and a great BakuMoment I’m looking forward to seeing finally hit the screen (and to hear both Okamoto and Chapin try and make Bakugou laugh like that).

#9. “I came here to find what I lack”

Chapter 247

Bakugou really kicked off the self-awareness train post DVK2, of course. But this is one of his more self-aware moments since then, as he goes to intern with the #1 pro and talks about what motivated him to do so. Bakugou knows he’s great at many aspects of being a hero, and he’s even learned how to do the Saving and Teamwork thing from last arc, but he still feels like there’s something he’s missing as a hero. So he comes to learn from the #1, and  gives this little speech (accompanied by another cute flashback with Baby Deku). Another moment I’m impatient to hear voiced.

#8. “Have you gotten any better?”

Chapter 168

After the first 120 chapters of being the Central dynamic of the entire series, post DVK2 Bakugou and Midoriya rivalry is a lot more low-key and very different in nature. Namely, Bakugou flips from being desperate to tear down every success of Midoriya’s out of fear to being surprisingly supportive of Deku’s success and quick to give him a push in the right direction. He speaks here to ask Deku how he’s doing, and challenge him to catch up. No longer afraid that he might, but practically demanding that he actually do it. That, my friends, is growth.

#7. “I’m gonna kill ‘em all with my sound”

Chapters 171-182

Culture Fest Bakugou is just a surprising delight from beginning to end. It’s one of those arcs that really reminds me he’s a teenager, immature and petty but learning to be better. There’s two specific scenes I’m excited for in the anime: firstly, of course, the aforementioned quote, as he protests the way the other classes are treating Class 1-A, and then during the performance itself, as he not only does great, but realizes that he needs to put his own ego aside and play along for the good of the class as a whole. It’s a very short little mini-arc for him, but another sign of how much more empathetic he’s grown.

#6. Post OFA breakdown concern

Chapter 217

I’ve got a number of the “Kacchan acts like a concerned, supportive friend for Deku” moments on this list, but this little sequence has a special place in my heart. Of course, there are the multiple close-ups on Katsuki’s concerned looking face during the match as OFA goes berserk, but then there’s the cut to post-Training when Kacchan spars with Deku to bring out his power, sits on the couch with him to consult about OFA, and serves as a very helpful intermediary between Deku and All Might, spurring Midoriya to realize some uncomfortable truths about OFA. Also, “Icy hot can be so smart and so damn dense at the same time.” Cannot wait to hear that one.

#5. “Didn’t hear of any time limit”

Chapter 218-219

Finally having their Provisional Licenses, Bakugou and Todoroki leap into action within less than an hour of getting them to save some civilians from a villain attack. Not only is that cool, but Bakugo once again shows his growth by prioritizing getting their stolen wallets back from the criminal, somehow managing to store them all inside those giant gauntlets. Pulling off teamwork with his (best friend) greatest rival, saving to win, and getting head-pat from All Might? It’s enough to seriously warm the heart.

#4. “Did something happen with One for All?”

Chapter 202

And my favorite of the “Kacchan worrying about Deku” moments, from Chapter 202. After nearly a year’s worth of complete hiatus from the Rivalry, Kacchan returns with a new attitude towards Midoriya, one where he actively inquires into his wellbeing, encourages him “in his own way”, to quote the Symbol of Peace himself, and nags him about being more cautious and trying harder. He just exudes such a kinder, better energy here, despite still exploding and covering it up with harshness, than he ever did before. I can’t wait to hear that new, more tender delivery from both Dub & Sub.

#3. “If you’re always looking down on people…”

Chapter 167

Ah, the climax moment of the License Retake arc. Not only does Bakugou figure out exactly how to reach the bratty kids (Bakugou!!!), but he takes a moment to pull the ringleader by the hand to join his friends and tell him the lesson he learned himself about self-examination and the consequences of looking down on others. Again, another moment I’m excited to see animated partly, yes, for the animation, but mostly for the sake of hearing Kacchan’s gruff voice actors pull this off (And of course, after the way they both nailed DVK2, I know they’ll be amazing).

#2. “He’d achieved a different kind of strength”

Chapter 208

The first moment when we truly get to see the new “Save to Win” dynamic play out on screen. Living up to his own hype to Deku and All Might, Katsuki not only leads his team to a perfect 4-0 victory (the first for Class A), but does so through 1. Teamwork and Cooperation with his classmates, and 2. Jumping into action to save Jirou from an upcoming attack. We’re reminded, in this moment, of those key words from the end of DVK2, as the person who brought about all this change in him (Midoriya) watches on in awe. I want to see the action, voice acting, and maybe a hint of the “Katsuki and Izuku” OST to start playing at this point. Hype!

Honorable Mentions: “It’s too damn early” Chapter 249, Christmas Kacchan, Chapter 242, Eating the Speech bubble, Chapter 194 (how are they gonna pull that off in animation?), grumpily waiting up for the Internship kids (Chapter 162).

#1. Saving Natsuo 

Chapter 251

Yep. Most recent, most hype-a-ble. Kacchan finally getting to rescue someone from a real, honest-to-god crisis situation. This chapter went by really fast, so I’m hoping the anime gives us the proper animation and focus on Kacchan (the chapter was also way more focused on Todoroki’s thoughts than his). I want to see him have that switch flip, that Deku moment where he just moves to go save someone without thinking. And in this case, I think he does. He jumps into a action to save good ‘ol Natsuo from a dangerous villain and gets himself a hug from the #1 for his trouble (hugged by 2 #1 pros, wows). Definitely cannot wait to see this finally hit the big screen.