#[and that includes jonathan muses]

[noxturnallyevermore]

I just spent way too long staring at zodiac signs and I still haven't come to any conclusions on what I headcanon everyone's signs to be

Thing is, I know nobody cares about zodiac signs anymore, I just wanted to come up with headcanon birthdays 😭😭😭

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Damage Control 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, violence, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Jonathan Pine, Lloyd Hansen

Summary: you're sent to work intel on a mission with two very combative men.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

You sit in the airport. One piece of luggage. Simple. Easy. You travel light but not alone. Your company has yet to arrive.

Fellow travelers rush back and forth while others wait in queue for the coffee kiosk behind you or meander in hopes of an empty seat. The dark brew isn’t very good. It’s burnt and hollow. You push the cup away and mourn the five dollars for eight ounces of tripe.

You recognise the man, not only because you’ve seen his photo, but because he stands out despite his attempt at insignificance. Tall, blond, lithe but not too slender. He approaches and you stand. He looks around, right over your head. You likely don’t look how he would expect.

“Pine,” you call to him. His blue eyes narrow at you and he redirects. He rolls his bag with him and approaches with his hand extended, “Pine like the tree. Tall as one.”

He tilts his head curiously, “you’re Magenta?”

“I didn’t choose it,” you say.

“Angela?”

“Can’t leave the wee one,” you explain as you hike yourself back up on the tall chair. You bring the cup close again and turn it as you scowl at the brew. “Don’t recommend the coffee. Don’t know about the tea.”

“Hm,” he sits across from you. “Pity. Was hoping for a good cuppa before we head over the pond.”

You look at him and your cheek twitches. You put your hand to it to still it. His blue eyes twinkle.

“You like to hike? With a name like Pine, it’d be ironic, wouldn’t it?” You suggest.

A line forms above his brow, “suppose that would be. I enjoy a run now and then, prefer the coast.”

“I hear they’ve got bears over there. Never saw one. Only rats in New York,” you remark. “I lost a slice of pizza to one. Grimy git.”

“Hm, yes, a city one would hate to be lost in,” he muses.

“You’ve been?”

“A time or two. Not my favourite place.”

“I went to Canada a couple times. I saw a moose. Actually, saw a few. Meese? Have you seen their geese? They’re bloody vicious.” Your cheek keeps twitching. You give up. Nerves.

“Ah, I’ve flown over, not been,” he says. “You nervous of flying?”

“Little. It’s only the take-off that gets me. Went parachuting once and the instructor tricked me. Said the strap on my chute broke. Threw a dummy cord out. Right mad one. Should’ve known better than do a jump for twenty quid.” You chuckle and shake your head. “Haven’t been right since.”

“Sounds especially cruel,” he comments.

“I’ve known crueler,” you grin.

“Mm, yes, as have I,” his brows lift slightly. “So, what do you know about this Hansen character?”

“I know we should keep the chatter to a minimum about him. Not here,” you glance around, catching site of the man who’s not so subtle in his staring.

“You’ve done this before?” He asks.

“I work alone more often. First for having company,” you say quietly. “Your sister, she’s going to be so happy to see you."

He hesitates but smiles anyway, "oh, she will. It's been some time, hasn't it?"

You keep your eyes on him. He doesn't flinch. You're both overtly aware of the man who's oh so convieniently moved closer to grab sugar and napkins.

You lift your arm and check your watch, "look at that, boarding soon."

"Ah, yes, darling, wouldn't want to miss it," he stands and comes around to pull out your chair. You step down and reach for your bag. He has it first. "Allow new."

You take your coffee and dump it in a bin. He rolls both bags with him as you walk in stride.

"Grab my arm. Be natural," he girds.

You obey, putting your hands on his as he clings to your suitcase. You walk with him, a dulcet expression to hide your paranoia. You get to the gate and show your passes.

He lets go of the bags and turns to yawn into his elbow. As he does, he scans the area. You join the queue for the ramp and he leans in.

"He's been rerouted by security," Pine intones.

You nod and stay facing forward. Another twitch.

"You're good," he praises.

You give a soft smile. It's a true compliment. You're not a field agent. This isn't your typical assignment but you owe Angela the favour.

“Eh, sometimes they turn out to just be creeps,” you snort. “Never know with people.”

“No, you never do,” he agrees.

“They say it's cold. November and such,” you sway as the airport attendants mill around near the doors waiting to call for boarding. “Thanksgiving soon, or whathaveyou. Pity we never got in on the fun.”

He laughs again, “never much thought of it.”

“I wouldn't mind turkey. You can get fish at any chippy, but what about nice bird.”

“Oh, I don't recommend picking up birds at a chippy,” he hurls back.

You guffaw, “clever.”

“I like to think so.”

“Mm, yes, most agents I've met tend to have that idea about themselves,” you stretch your arms behind you and scope out the line. You let out a breath. “You seem the football type, eh?”

He seems stricken by the question, “might be.”

“Eh, don't you worry, I won't judge. Not out loud.”

“Right. I'll admit, not many of Angela's friends are so chatty,” he says.

“They wouldn't be but we've ten hours ahead of us. May as well jump right in,” you say.

“May as well,” he agrees. “If you must know, I root for Chelsea.”

“Ach,” you decry. “Well, perhaps we should find a more amiable topic.”

“I see. Spoken like a true Arsenal fan.”

“I'm warning you,” you retort. “I'm much nicer about the weather. Lovely day, isn't it?”

He laughs, “oh, fine day for flying.”

[missmarveledsblog]

BEFORE HE CHEATS (EDDIE MUNSON X READER)

summary : Y/N hopper is out with the gang celebrating at the hideout when her boyfriend walks in with a blonde on his arm and she goes for where it hurts ... his car while eddie help the woman he secretly loves get over her new ex .

warning: violence against cheating exes and their cars , hopper being a girl dad boss

A rare night out with the older members of the gang , a celebration of the anniversary stopping the end of the world and eddie being cleared as a murderer . the rules we're simple no outsiders that included partners which only effected the rest as jonathan and nancy were still going strong together . the drinks flowing and music blaring everyone was enjoying their night. eddie and steve complaining about dustin and his ego while robin and Y/N well no one knew what they were talking about especially when alcohol was involved, the word vomit was on fast forward with the two, yet eddie munson often felt trapped in a trance at the chief of police daughter. how her laugh was his favourite sound . how when she looked at him , he'd honestly thought his legs would give out yet she belonged to someone else because he was too much of a chicken shit to tell her how he felt. he loved it was just the gang tonight he got to admire her and not feel sick watching her in the arms of some asshole that clearly didn't deserve her. How the moment he met the dude 8 months ago he felt something , a walking red burning flag the guy was. how he would let her down most of time . no if she was his girl , he would make sure everyday that she would know how special she was . But now he was looking from the outside , being the guy she would cry to when he could give her the world if she asked . he may not of had money for fancy date but he would make it special , he would make sure it was something that was worthy of her. he knew she wasn't the type to be impressed by flashy gifts and date . she appreciated everything no matter how small it was , even when the kids pitched in and got her flowers with a cassette she lit up like they gave her a new car . He wished something would give him the chance just for once cut him a break in the shit show he called his life.

like an answered pray the gang eyes all locked on the door as he walked in a skinny little blonde on his arm looking completely terrified of everything around her. " hey we had some car trouble could we use the phone " he called not clocking his girlfriend tense shoulders and heartbroken face or her existence at all . " could be a work friend " robin mused. " baby come on we're missing our engagement party " she cried. " how long you been together " a man asked them . " only four month but when you know well you know " she giggled not sounding like the brightest bunny in the cage  . " we can leave " steve winced . " nope more alcohol " she shook her head her face completely emotionless as she looked over seeing the two heading for the pool table . she watched for half an hour , they played up using the excuse to touch each other in a sickeningly sweet seductive way . she scoffed when the girl complain how harsh the whiskey or how he would beam down at her kissing her like she was all he could matter about . " we could kick his ass " steve mused . " nope hey stevie that bat with the wire still in your car? " she slammed the rest of her drink down . " yeah why " he asked. " no reason , thanks for the keys " she walked by she ignored how her ex turned trying to hide himself and the selfish fuck thought it worked like he actually got away with it . " steve , you told her the bat was in the car and let her take your key " robin mused. " yeah " he nodded til his eyes widened in realization. " oh shit " he ran toward the entrance only for them to heard the smashing already take place . " hey fuck face i think your cars in more trouble , i suggest you hide your friend from the girlfriend out there " eddie yelled back .

when the gang walked out every window on the corvette was gone , she was currently dragging her own keys alongside the exterior of the car, the sound of the scratched up metal filled the car park . She pulled out the butterfly knife from her boot to which she  stabbing them in the in the tire as they watched . " what the fuck you crazy bitch " he yelled. " oh hey baby fancy seeing you here" she waved stabbing the tire while he watched on . " who is she " the blonde on his arm screeched ." his girlfriend of 8 months " eddie rolled his eyes . what he didn't expect was the pissed off grunt of the blonde . "have you got another bat " she stomped toward the car . " no but if you wanna shred the interior here" she held the knife out to the woman . now his side chick was slashing his seats before pulling a gun out of the glove box . " headlights, he's not worth a life sentence " Y/N yelled as the gun rang out the woman threw it to the ground just as the red and blue light came speeding in . " oh hi dad " she smiled . " what's going on " he huffed. " he cheated and he's car mysteriously got destroyed stranger things have happened huh? " she smiled weakly. " sir i did not cheat ... ok i did but it was so her dad would give me a promotion so i could take care of your daughter " her ex rambled . " well you should park your car somewhere safer next time son the boys can give you lift home " hopper crossed his arm. " arrest them they did it " he cried . " you guys see it " he asked the group . " no " they yelled. " hey hop hate to say no cctv busted since last night " roy the owner of the bar smirked. " now off you go insurance can handle it " hopper waved to her ex a anger grimace on his face as the man walked off without a car or a girlfriend . " maybe next time you'll think before you cheat " she called . " it wont be on us " the blonde called . " hey steve give .. " . " abby " she sniffled. " abby a lift home" she smiled sadly to the woman . " sorry i didn't know he was seeing anyone,  i thought i met the guy after so many failed date but he was just after my money  " she said standing  tears falling down her cheeks  . " thanks for the help now go home and plus stevie there's better guy and no shrimp dick  and he's already rich " she winked as the two walked off . " you need a ride home guys won't mind " hopper looked at her. " nah i'm good " she smiled sadly walking over to the gang as robin wrapped her in an embrace. " hey come on little vandal i'll bring you home " eddie smiled softly leading her to his van as her dad ran up behind them . " next time don't leave evidence" he whispered handing over the knife and bat . " night dad " she kissed his cheek . " night sweet heart , me and my girls tomorrow for dad daughter breakfast " he smiled . " make sure el has her eggo's " she chuckled . " hey munson don't pussy out " he yelled out making her stop at the van. " what does he mean " her eye filled in confusion . " that our cue to go " robin yelled .

" well i didn't expect your dad of all people to call me out " he began shuffling his feet while his eyes that usually would follow her anywhere couldn't bare to even look at her . " eddie you ok " he could hear her feet coming closer making his own heart beat thump in his chest . " i'vebeeninlovewithyousincewemet" he said the words jumbled together halting her steps . " wait what " she giggled . " i've been in love with you since we met " he sighed . " why didn't you say anything " her voice fell into a whisper . " because look at you and look at me , your badass and well i'm ...OWW" he jumped back . " your badass too and ugh why didn't you say anything could of saved me 8 month of my life " she huffed getting into the van . " what you mean by that" he chased after her . " meaning that night i met that idiot was because you were again flirting with some ditz and i was sick of it so " she huffed heading hitting the seat , " you liked me " he smiled . " yes i like you but this too soon i mean i just broke up with my boyfriend " . " well then i can wait i've been waiting years already i can wait for you anytime " he smiled like a giddy teen . " fuck it "she leaned forward crashing her lips against his , she spent years watching that mouth move wondering how her lips would feel against them . " ok we need to go home before we do anything we regret , i want you that bad sweetheart i'm not leaving anything to chance but i'm taking you on a date once your ready " he smiled starting the van driving off happy both looked to the smashed up car before breaking into fit of laughter .

she watched his profile , she notice something she barely even cared her ex well was now her ex. the man done nothing but let her down and then throw shitty gifts at her. yet once even with eddie doing whatever it always made her happy . he was always about to make her smile no matter what was going around even when he almost died he tried to make her smile . the more she thought of it the more she realise he really was always there . when her and hopper would have a argument like most dad's and daughters he would open his home for her to sleep over. everytime her dates would  be cancelled he would pick up her disappointment and do something fun with her " Eddie i don't want you to wait , i mean i don't think i can wait for you anymore " her voice now showing she was the nervous one . she meant it , thought she literally just became single  she couldn't leave it another second without eddie being her , truly hers . he didn't say anything only drove which made her more nervous til he pulled into the diner. " well then i'm not waiting " he smiled making her released a breath she was holding . " so this is our first date?" she smiled. " i mean it's already the best one those burgers in there are to die for " he chuckled jumping out of the car before walking around and lifting her out of the van . " you ready " he asked holding her close to him . " who knew  cheating and car vandalising would bring me to one of the best nights of my life " she smiled as he leaned down this time taking charge of the kiss and taking the chance he wished he'd done sooner .

[mothhball]

I – BIVIUM

bivium – a meeting-place of two roads

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary You need this internship. You're hungry for a challenge, desperate to prove yourself. Against your mentor's wishes, you applied to Arkham Asylum, aware of the risks and difficulties. But when you meet the enigmatic Dr. Crane for the internship interview, you get the feeling that this could work out nicely, after all.

warnings none aside from brief mentions and descriptions of anxiety and some bad language! enjoy a chill first chapter <3 for more general warnings for the rest of the story, please check out the masterlist

notes first multichapter thing! i'm just as scared as you guys lol this is set in the Nolanverse, but before Batman Begins, and it's gonna be a semi-slowburn (sorry haha)

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 3.9k

As expected, the rest of your week turns out to be torturous. Whenever a second of calm rears its head, you make sure to squash it immediately by thinking of the worst things that could possibly happen during the interview. Your life, your achievements, your very personality get mercilessly torn apart by your viciously overthinking brain, and you could almost scream with joy by the time Friday comes around. Finally, the wait would be over. But unfortunately, that thought is a double-edged sword. Because yes, you’ll get to prove yourself. But God, you’ll have to prove yourself. Luckily for you, your urge to get somewhere in life prevails against the wish to not be perceived at all.

It's almost comical how horrendous the weather is on your way to Arkham Asylum. It’s like someone ordered the deluxe experience, making sure to include intense rain, thunder and an additional helping of lightning that turns your car into a rolling Faraday cage, which keeps the electricity outside and your anxiety inside.

Navigating the Narrows is a challenge in itself, and a few times you have to curse under your breath and turn down the car radio in an attempt to “see better”. Then finally, the road signs start to pop up, leading you along your way like desperately needed little breadcrumbs. People usually don’t make their way into this part of Gotham without a good reason. Your good reason of the day is to market yourself as a great potential employee.

A sigh of relief escapes your dry throat when you finally turn off your motor in the Arkham parking lot. It’s not that busy, and you’re not surprised. The rumors about the institution's understaffing must’ve been an understatement. Your hand is already shaking as you reach for a water bottle. Christ, your nerves are bad today. The environment doesn’t help either. The few barren trees on the property reach up their blackened limbs like bony fingers trying to rip the clouds from the sky, and even the sparse patches of grass look almost completely desaturated. Above all, Arkham Asylum looms ahead, exuding the same energy as an ancient beast banned into the form of bricks and cement rather than a proper construction.

The building doesn't seem to be in the right place, you think to yourself. As if an architecture student misplaced their model on another's desk. A desk where the model of a haunted house was supposed to be placed instead. But once you swallow the sip of water and check yourself in the car’s rearview mirror, you decide to approach anyway. The only offering you previously sent in advance was your CV. Hopefully, it’s good enough to not let you get eaten alive by this monstrosity of an asylum. Is it just you, or does the sound of your shoes crunching on the gravel sound like chewing already?

Unfortunately, the rain doesn’t give you much of an opportunity to stall the pace of your steps, forcing you to hurry through the main entrance in favor of staying relatively dry.

The large windows of the entry hall of Arkham Asylum were meant for sunlight, you muse silently. Meant for days with better weather than Gotham could ever provide. But the construction is confined to the dirty, foggy streets of the Narrows; doomed to eternal gloom and ominous scenery.

You look and feel a little lost as you look around the room, secretly disappointed that Dr. Crane didn't make the effort to pick you up here. But you're not a victim of learned helplessness, so you decide to walk over to the reception to make yourself known.

"Excuse me?"

The receptionist looks up from the book she's reading, flipping a page as she looks at you from top to bottom and right back up to the top. You can't help but wonder how many people have withered beneath her critical eye before you came along. Maybe she has a pile of skeletons already stashed away in one of her drawers.

"You're here for the interview, right?" She concludes by herself, looking over at a list of names on her desk. The list of your competitors, no doubt. You nod, suddenly very aware of what's at stake here. You have to ace this if you don't want to be confined to a summer of endless boredom and excruciating staff meetings at Potomac.

"You're early. That's great," the receptionist drones on, sounding not too enthusiastic despite what she’s saying. "Head through this door right here. You'll get a visitor's badge after the security check. After that, head up to the third floor. The rest is pretty self-explanatory. Dr. Crane will be waiting in his office."

You manage to mutter a ‘thanks’, but she’s already immersed in her book again, obviously done with the conversation. To avoid lingering for an awkward moment too long, you immediately head through the doors and further into the building to get through the security check.

Unsurprisingly, the security protocol is pretty strict, and while your bag is being searched by one guard, you're waved through a metal detector by another. It's like a miniature TSA, and once you explain the reason for your visit, you're allowed to put your shoes and jacket back on. Getting handed the little visitor’s badge on a lanyard feels like a rite of passage, and once you hang it around your neck, you feel even more weighed down than before.

One hellish elevator ride full of janky movements and devious mechanical noises later, the antique means of transport spits you out on the third floor of Arkham Asylum. It’s eerily quiet. So quiet, in fact, that you can hear every step of your freshly shined shoes on the linoleum floors echoing down the hallway. Up here, the absence of sunlight through the large windows is even more obvious, and the smell of petrichor and a faint hint of disinfectant add to the already dreary atmosphere. Would you really be able to last the summer in a place like this? Maybe you should’ve stuck to Potomac after all. At least that place had a well-kept garden full of rose bushes and swanky outdoor furniture sets.

The moment you regret that thought is also the moment that you realize you’re completely lost.

Every turn, every door and every hallway look the same, and the more you try to make sense of it, the more disoriented you feel. It’s like trying to run in a dream. Everything is complicated; feels slow. Fear creeps into your bones. What time is it? How long have you been wandering around? You’re going to be late for the interview. Fuck. The interview. Your internship. Your future. Dr. Crane will be disappointed. He’ll see right through you. See how scared you are. Of a fucking floor in a fucking building. You’re going to –

“Lost, are we?”

The rapidly spinning carousel of your mind immediately comes to a screeching halt due to a voice behind you, and it’s a miracle that you don’t flinch. You turn stiffly, feeling like a doll whose head has been turned by the hand of a child. Definitely the opposite of the first impression you had planned on making. Your eyes meet his, clashing with blue so icy that your fingers feel cold. The photos you saw in the newspapers failed to convey just how striking the director of Arkham Asylum truly is.

Swallowing your nerves, you force yourself to straighten up and smile, letting go of the strap of your bag that you were clutching onto like a lifeline. Confident posture, confident body language. In the eyes of any other employer, you’d look like a dream. But Dr. Jonathan Crane’s face doesn’t move a single muscle.

“Ah, yes. I suppose I am,” you admit, removing your visitor’s badge from around your neck and holding it out to him. Dr. Crane takes it, pointedly making sure that his fingers don’t touch yours. There’s a glint of recognition in his gaze when he reads your name that a security guard haphazardly wrote onto the back.

“I was on my way to your office for the internship interview, but this place is like a maze... I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

“You didn’t,” Crane answers with a tiny, sardonic smile. “I was just on my way as well. And you were already heading in the right direction anyway.”

He hands you back your badge, and you return it to its rightful place around your neck. Crane gestures towards a door with its number next to it on a neat little sign. He taps it, drawing your attention to a little red stripe in the bottom left corner.

“Allow me to let you in on a little trick regarding the navigation at Arkham,” he starts, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, “No matter where you are on this floor, if you follow the red stripes, you’ll end up at my office eventually. The markers alternate in direction, so it’s easy to follow once you get used to it.”

“Like a little red thread,” you muse, looking around. Now that he mentioned it, the red stripes are almost glaringly obvious. You can’t help but feel a little special, because he shared such important information with you. Even though your competitors most likely got the same treatment. “So, everything else looks identical on purpose?”

“Precisely,” Dr. Crane responds with a nod. “Sometimes, we have some… difficult patients. The need to be free is part of the human nature for most. But that doesn’t mean we should make it easy for them to escape.”

“That makes sense,” you nod back at him, resisting the urge to fidget now that his attention is back on you and no longer on the navigational system of this behemoth of a building. But the psychiatrist just motions for you to follow him, not allowing the silence to grow into something palpable that would waste his time.

“Walk with me. You know the way now.”

And so, the two of you are off, walking side by side at the pace that Crane sets for the both of you. You hurry to match his strides, making sure not to seem too eager now that you know how to find his office. To your dismay, the interview starts right this second.

“How much experience do you have?”

“I did 3 months at Potomac – “ you answer, promptly getting cut off when the director scoffs under his breath.

“So, basically none.”

Ouch. But he’s not wrong. You did learn how to navigate the rich and entitled, and you know how to keep a killer file structure now, but that’s almost it. In hindsight, Dr. Rabin underutilized you so much it should’ve been a criminal offense. You swallow your ego and agree with him, figuring it might be what he wants to hear.

“That's... pretty much what I told Professor Campbell as well.”

Dr. Crane’s brows furrow. He makes no effort to conceal his contempt for your mild-mannered mentor, sounding noticeably incredulous as he responds.

“Campbell? She's overseeing your thesis?”

You mirror his expression, but in your case, it’s due to genuine confusion.

“Yeah... I thought I wrote it in the application? Did you read it?”

“Skimmed it. I don't have much time for the menial details. Doesn’t matter. You’ve made it here regardless, haven't you? Maybe it was for the best that I skipped some parts,” he shrugs, not caring for the little frown that threatens to pull at your lips. Luckily, you manage to reign in your expression. Don’t let him get to you. This is just hazing.

“In any case, Dr. Rabin was more than happy with my work,” you counter, keeping your tone pleasant.

“Sure. What a wonderful letter of recommendation it was,” he says, sounding amused in a mocking kind of way. “But come on, we both know what kind of establishment Potomac is. That's why you're here, isn't it? To have a challenge. To actually make an impact.”

This makes you stop in your tracks in the middle of the hallway, forcing Crane to pause along with you. As much as you’re trying to hide that small feeling of triumph, it’s easy to tell from the glint in your eyes that you see this as a little personal victory.

“So, you did read my motivational letter,” you conclude, raising an eyebrow.

You swear the corners of his lips twitch upwards for a split second. Whether that’s in amusement or disgust at your audacity, you’re not quite sure. From what you know about Crane (which is, admittedly, not much), you decide on the latter. But to your surprise, he quips back in that rumbly baritone, making a point to clasp his hands behind his back.

“Might've been one of the sections I skimmed more closely,” he shrugs, briefly looking away from you to notice a stack of files that a passing nurse is carrying. Nosy. Or just used to being involved in everyone’s business. Letting out a sigh, he continues, dragging his eyes back to meet yours.

“Truthfully, I believe those motivational statements are the most important part. Not grades, not recommendations. They look nice on paper, yes. But at the end of the day, I've had interns here with a perfect GPA, glowing reviews from paper-pushing professors like your dear Ms. Campbell, and you know what? Those precious show horses barely lasted a month. Because Arkham chewed them up and spat them out like the gum under those dreadful desks in the Gotham U lecture halls.”

The comparison is fitting, and you cringe a little when you remember the last time you accidentally touched one of those forgotten, dried-up clumps of a stranger’s saliva and polymers.

“Well, I might not be a show horse, but I’m certain that I could jump any hurdle you put in front of me.”

“Delightfully ambitious. But I make sure to stack those hurdles high.” His expression tells you that he’s in no way joking around, and you swallow dryly as the two of you reach his office, and he lets you go in first.

The office is cold and impersonal. No plants, no decorations. No family photos on his desk or frames on the walls aside from his degrees. Rows of filing cabinets are filling out the room, as well as a large bookshelf that’s seemingly overflowing with literature. Some of the books have been handled and read so often that the spines are cracked and withered, almost making you empathize with them.

The faint smell of coffee, cologne and chemicals hangs in the air, and the curtains are drawn, making the office seem even darker and isolated than it already is. Crane seems to exude the spirit of the asylum as well, living and breathing the ominous gloom. The doctor steps past you, pushing several empty cups to the side, but not bothering with the stack of folders that’s also cluttering the space. Busy. Or counting on someone else to sort his mess and his thoughts.

"Sit,” he says, pointing at the empty chair in front of his desk.

You know it’s not an offer. It’s a command. And you immediately comply, eager to please the man who holds the cards regarding your future. Setting your bag down next to your feet, you mentally anticipate his next words.

"Go on, then. Tell me about yourself."

You straighten up in your seat, already prepared for this question, so you rattle off the main facts. Your name, age, and main areas of interest when it comes to psychology. Hell, you even mention the high school you went to, even though it's been ages. As soon as you mention Potomac, Dr. Crane holds up a hand to stop you.

"Thank you. That's enough, I suppose. No need to tell me how you wasted your time there."

He flips through a file, letting you stew in the awkward silence for a solid minute before he sees it fit to show mercy.

"Could I ask you some personal questions? We’re looking for a specific type of person, after all," he says, looking up from the document. "So, I'm afraid that the shallow chit-chat won't suffice."

“Of course,” you nod, making sure your smile stays relaxed and pleasant.

Crane picks a pen out of a pencil holder on his desk, clicking it twice before he puts it to the paper that you now recognize as your CV and application letter. The psychiatrist clears his throat and rattles off some more of the standard questions. How well do you work under pressure? Which meds do you currently take? How frequently do you consume alcohol and other recreational drugs?

You manage to elegantly fight your way through your answers, sprinkling in a few white lies here and there. There’s no way you’d tell a potential employer about your preference for tequila or how many times you’ve cried after a long day of work and uni. Your secrets are yours. So, you tell him that you work excellently under pressure and only drink very occasionally. What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve over. Or whatever. His second to last question, however, makes you pause a little.

“What is your current living situation and relationship status?”

The question hangs in the air for a moment before Dr. Crane feels the need to clarify.

“Our interns usually have a rather tight schedule, and since the work with humans has the tendency to be a little unpredictable, it’s good to know how long the drive here usually is. In case it’s an emergency and we’ll have to wait for you. As for my inquiry about a potential partner, it’s useful to know how much time personal matters would take up in your life.”

You shift in your seat, chewing on the inside of your lip for a second before you mentally reprimand yourself for such a nervous gesture.

“I’m currently living with my boyfriend. We’re renting an apartment in Haysville.”

“Haysville…,” Crane thinks out loud, visualizing a map of Gotham in his head. “That’s quite a drive, though. Isn’t it?”

“The drive won’t be a problem,” you assure him, silently hoping and praying that this tiny detail didn’t just ruin your chances completely. “I have a car. And… if I leave home early enough, I can avoid traffic.”

You’re met with silence as Dr. Crane takes a moment to write something down on your printed-out CV. You absolutely despise that you can’t decipher his handwriting from where you’re sitting. You despise that you don’t know what he’s thinking. And you despise yourself for living in Haysville of all places, instead of in the damn parking lot of the asylum, so you’d always be available. In that world, there’d be no argument against you. In that world, you wouldn’t overthink the barely five seconds of silence that settled between Crane and yourself.

Finally, he lifts his gaze to meet yours once more.

“I must admit, everything so far sounds quite promising. I shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m quite optimistic that you’ll hear back from us.” He doesn’t smile, and there’s no warmth in his voice, but his words are like liquid gold dripping right into your ears. “In the event that you're accepted for one of the three internship spots, you’ll receive an envelope. That’ll be quite thick since it will contain your contract as well as an NDA and some additional paperwork.”

Your face lights up like a Christmas tree, and your mouth opens and closes a few times before you find the words to speak.

“That… would be absolutely incredible.”

“Now, now,” he lifts his hand, already stopping you before you’re too far gone over the moon. “This isn’t a ‘yes’ quite yet. I’ll hand my opinion over to the rest of the staff, and they’ll decide whether to give you a spot. They’re the ones with whom you’ll be primarily working, after all.”

He seems to think about his own words for a beat, considering what your role would be at Arkham Asylum. But you don’t really care. Even just a positive statement from him could be crucial.

“Regardless,” you say, unable to keep your smile from growing. “Thank you for taking the time to see me, Dr. Crane. I can only assume how busy you must be on a daily basis.”

This seems to snap him out of his own thoughts, and he nods stiffly, clearing his throat as he fixes his tie.

“Incredibly busy, yes. So, I won’t keep either of us any longer.”

He gets up from his seat before you do, guiding you to the door but staying behind in his office. Whatever he thought about just a moment ago, it seems to have shifted his mood ever so slightly.

“You’ll find your way back to the elevator by yourself, right?” he asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow, which causes you to nod quickly.

“Yes. Just… the whole thing in reverse.”

He nods in response, not stepping out into the hallway with you.

“Good. Enjoy the rest of your day. And… expect mail from us. Maybe I’ll see you around in the future.”

You barely have time to say goodbye before he closes the door to his office, leaving you standing by yourself. Strange. But it matches his reputation, you suppose.

The way back to the elevator seems much more logical this time, and you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself for remembering how to navigate the hallways now. Even the diabolical rattling as you descend back to the ground floor can’t wipe the smile off your face.

Dr. Crane’s words gave you hope and a surge of confidence, and as you hand your visitor’s badge back to security and leave the asylum, you feel accomplished. Satisfied with how the interview went. Back in your car, you check your rearview mirror once more, making sure you didn’t have anything on your face the entire time before the motor hums to life, and you back out of your parking spot.

The drive back to your apartment would almost be peaceful if it wasn’t for the last bits of excess adrenaline that are still rushing through your veins. Your hands shake a little every time you turn the steering wheel or reach for the dials of the radio, and once you’re finally safe and sound with in your own home, you sink down to your knees and let out a sigh that comes from the deepest depths of your soul. Relief. But not entirely. The next few days would be a test of patience and endurance. But you’re good at playing the waiting game.

Each day, you throw a longing glance at the mailbox in the shabby lobby of your apartment building, only to get disappointed once more. Days turn into a week, and you’ve almost given up hope when, one day, your boyfriend comes home with a stack of mail under his arm. The Arkham logo is peeking through behind a few bills and ads, and you recognize it instantly. This is it.

Like a vulture, you snatch the letter from your boyfriend’s hands, earning a disgruntled noise in response that you couldn’t care less about if you tried. The envelope rips under your impatient hands, and you immediately skim through the letter, searching for the magical words without realizing how thin it is.

Dear Miss…

                      … we hope this letter finds you well…. 

… thank you for applying…

… unfortunately…

      … large number of applicants…

                                                                        … must hereby reject…

… best wishes…

                                                            … better luck next time…

The silence in your living room is deafening, and you can hear your pulse in your ears. The floor feels like it's going to crumble beneath your feet.

Better luck next time.

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @seaamonster

@rosiemarieyn @sagepixieswrld

[bluecatwriter]

Jonathan: Do I have to read it, oh my dear one?

Me: (cries)

Jonathan: "I will keep my mouth as it were in a bridle: while the ungodly is in my sight. I held my tongue, and spake nothing: I kept silence, yea, even from good words; but it was pain and grief to me. My heart was hot within me; and while I was thus musing the fire kindled."

Me: (cries harder) Do you have to remind me!

OKAY BUT THE INCLUSION OF THIS LINE HAS ME GOING FERAL

(Theological ramble incoming. You have been warned.)

Jonathan is reading from the Book of Common Prayer, but the scripture is Psalm 39. (I originally thought that this was a quote from Jeremiah 20:9, which uses similar language to show the prophet's frustration with burning up inside if he refuses his call to prophesy, but this is even better.)

The psalmist here is a great example of how people's responses to God in the Bible do not fit neatly into the "unquestioning obedience and reverence" framework any more than Jonathan's actions do. The narrator of this psalm speaks despairingly about the vanity of life, begs God to stop heaping hardship on him ("Remove thy stroke away from me: I am consumed by the blow of thine hand"), and while he expresses near the middle that his ultimate hope is in God ("And now, Lord, what wait I for? my hope is in thee"), he also flat-out asks God to leave him alone (the last line of the psalm in King James Version says "O spare me, that I may recover strength/before I go hence, and be no more," though I love the more modern translations such as the New Revised Standard version, which reads, "Turn your gaze away from me, that I may smile again/before I depart and am no more").

It's a gut-wrenching psalm that doesn't flinch from the realities of life: things feel meaningless, hardships are heaped on those who are faithful, humans are fragile, riches cannot safeguard against death— and the right to rage and weep before God is a given. It ends not with the line of hope from the middle but with a challenge to God, and the main conflict of the psalm is not resolved or neatly tied up. Like all the Wisdom literature in the Bible, it invites the readers to sit in the tension and the confusion and the pain, rather than hastening on to a "correct answer" or even a sense of resolution.

I assume this is why it's included in the Book of Common Prayer's burial service: death cannot be tied up with a bow, or smoothed over with platitudes. This psalm expresses solidarity with people from every generation who have tried to make sense of their hardships and pain and the devastating reality of mortality.

Anyway, inclusion of this line in this scene was absolutely stunning. I suspect that many of Bram Stoker's original readers would have familiarity with the burial service since it would be read at every funeral, so adding in the words was wonderful to enhance the experience for the modern non-Anglican reader. This passage helped drive home how thematically resonant these words are with what's happening in the story in the moment. Very cool.

[twopoint99]

Possible spoilers if you haven’t already listened or read the book. Also, spoilers for The Horror of Dracula, 1958 and Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992.

One of my favorite things about @re-dracula is seeing the reactions of people whose main exposure to the story is through the many film adaptations. The differences in how the characters relate to one another are way too many to list from film to film. Even aside from the bizarre choices (Lucy as Mina’s sister-in-law - the Horror of Dracula, 1958, or Mina as the reincarnation of Dracula’s lost love - Bram Stoker’s Dracula, 1992) the most important difference between those adaptations and re - dracula is that these are fully rounded characters who clearly care about one another.

Jonathan adores Mina, Mina loves him, and loves Lucy. The suitor squad and Van Helsing genuinely cherish Lucy and it causes everyone palpable pain when they see her slipping away. When the group finally gets together in one place, they all acknowledge and respect the various strengths they each bring, and they hold one another up as needed.

None of the characters seem cast aside, as often happens in film adaptations. Even the 1992 film, which includes all three suitors, doesn’t manage to make them all seem like full personalities. They appear more as aspects of an individual, or as tropes. Lucy herself in the ‘92 movie is the complete opposite of her characterization in the novel. Her behavior in the film is anachronistic at best, and offensive at the least. It is a perfect illustration of the stupid and misogynistic attitude in horror that “wanton” women are punished.

Not only that, but it also completely changes the story and the dreadful implications of it. Lucy isn’t targeted because she’s “done something wrong” (quotes because I don’t believe expressing/exploring one’s sexuality is wrong, no matter what my favorite genre keeps telling me), she is targeted because she is convenient. Dracula wasn’t musing in between leaving his castle and reaching England that by golly, he couldn’t wait to terrorize Lucy Westenra! He saw an opportunity, like any other predator, and he took it.

Of course, we’ve seen that he is very willing to play with his food once he feels in control. He was very pleased to be able to torment Jonathan, yet another character who is often treated poorly in adaptations - in the 1958 version he’s so smug and patronizing toward what appears to be a terrified woman, that I was actively hoping for his death.

In contrast, the novel/Dracula Daily/re-dracula show us a sweet, earnest man, one who is gentle and loving. He, like Lucy, is a convenient victim, and like Lucy, is innocent.

The true horror is that terrible things can happen to anyone, and no amount of wealth, education, or simple good-heartedness, will act as a shield. There are no preventatives, and no one “deserves” the terrible things that happen. The real strength of the story isn’t in deciding which characters(usually women) are worthy of saving, an overly simplistic approach that many film adaptations take, some more subtly than others. The story resonates because in spite of the randomness of the horror, the people involved decide to do something about it.

These people are not always perfect or even heroic. Dr. Seward (who I really enjoy, and who is also often portrayed badly in adaptation) is not a safe person for his patients to be around. He is ableist, arrogant, patronizing, and definitely not handling his own mental health well. He is also loving, practical, loyal, and in many ways exceptionally tender-hearted. All of the cast is achingly good in their portrayals, but Johnny Sims’ interpretation of Seward has been revelatory. The man is flawed, but gosh darnit, he’s absolutely human. His pain is visceral, his awkwardness is utterly relatable, and his attempts to make things make sense is so hard to hear, because we want the awful things to be a puzzle with a logical solution, but we also know that there is no motivation for what is happening, it is all chance.

Mina herself questions why they need worry about Dracula, once he is gone from England. By this time she’s had a horrific experience with the count and understandably wants to be done with the whole thing. Earlier, however, she begins her work of compiling all the information available about Dracula, because she understands that something may need to be done, for the good of all.

She is afraid of losing her husband, she is afraid of what other horrors may wait, but she also is able to put that aside to continue to pursue stopping Dracula, so that there won’t be another victim, and so that Dracula himself might be saved from the horrific reality he’s experienced for so long.

I have been telling people ad nauseum that re-dracula is hands down the best adaptation of the novel I’ve ever encountered. It is because it is treated as a story about people, real people, with real connections to those around them, real flaws and strengths, who grow to share a bond. They swear to stop Dracula, not out of vengeance, as Jonathan can be forgiven for wanting, but out of love for those they have lost and those they may save.

[everglow-synth]

I've got this burning like my veins are filled with nothing but gasoline

An urban sci-fi/fantasy world based on the Synthwave aesthetic, D&D, and many different movies, TV shows and video games. Main characters include: Matthew Blake - Bartender turned vigilante superhero Polybius - An amnesiac android trying to keep himself alive Pockets - Friendly arcade owner and robot skeleton Jonathan Whitman - Cult detective with an elder god deep within Verox - A dragon that gifted the world of Polycus with magic

18+ Only!

Crossover, OC and AU friendly!

NSFW friendly!

Will RP with fandoms I'm not familiar with!

Multiple sideblogs, listed below the cut!

And with a spark it's gonna be the biggest fire they've ever seen

Carrd + Rules and About | Spotify Playlist

Doom Slayer / @slayers-testament A strange, time/space scattered warrior fighting against (most of) demonkind. Compatible with Hellzbin or Helltaker muses! (I keep a leash on him, I swear.)

Multifandom Multimuse / @the-devils-toybox A place for me to drop my silly little obsessions without having to make them all new blogs. Crossover and AU friendly!

Miles "Tails" Prower / @powered-by-prower An older, more mature take on the fox, mixing headcanon, game lore, comic lore and Sonic X lore to make something new. Features Gemerl as a secondary muse, and E-102γ/Gamma as a tertiary muse!

Andros, The Last Golden Lynel / @golden-lynel The last Golden Lynel left in Hyrule after the Great Upheaval, Andras commands Ganondorf's minions with an iron fist. He is a beast on the battlefield with a deep, unending hatred of the Master Sword and its handler.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Kid! Clark and Odd Duck?

"What in the Sam hell?"

Jonathan looked the way your grandfather was looking and chuckled, "Martha must have called before she finished her book."

"Ya think?"

Clark, without breaking a sweat, had a hold of the back of your overalls in one hand and his soda pop in the other and was quite simply just dragging you along behind him as you sat on the ground. Book in your hands, intently reading.

"Lord give me strength."

"I think he gave it to the boy."

____________

"What?"

Bruce held up a picture off your bookcase, smiling a little. Clark was dragging you by the hood across a college campus. Looking annoyed but resigned. And you still had a drink in one hand and a book in the other.

"Finals week I think?" you muse wincing when yawning made your head hurt.

"Who took the picture?" he asked, amused.

"Jimmy I think. Clark dragged me out of a lot of places."

"Like that?"

"When we were kids he dragged me by my overalls mostly."

"Overalls?"

"They have nice pockets for rocks. And snacks."

"Valid," Bruce snorted putting the picture down. He'd never paid much attention to the pictures on the shelf. Lots of them had Clark in them. Some had his parents. Some had your Grandparents. The ones with your mother were there but- clearly obligatory. There so she couldn't complain. Or ask.

Little glimpses.

Lois kissing your cheek on one side and Clark kissing the other while they forced you to participate in a little birthday party- presumably by bribing you with your favorite cake AND a defined stop time where you could leave.

Pictures people had snapped in candid moment. Posed pictures in weird places, including one that defied explanation where you're hanging off a tree branch by your feet and looking curiously zen despite being 6 ft off the ground. One day he'd have to ask. Someone would probably have an answer.

But right now you'd decided his sweater was the best thing on earth and you were drowning in it. And he'd rather spend a little more time letting you sleep on him.

[isolaradiale]

Fireworks erupted overtop the city's centre where the giant hole usually could be found. Except now it was filled with a huge stadium! When had that happened!? As was often tradition in Spirale, plenty early risers would have their beauty sleep disturbed by the blaring of an announcement over the electronic devices in their possession.

"That's right, Jonathan! This is an exciting year for the Spirale Games! Well it's the first year, but that's what makes it so exciting!" Anything with a screen would have displayed video of Ofiuco's android body sitting at a sportscasting desk. But there was no one else present so who was she talking to? "We have a number of exciting events for teams to sign up for and we can't wait to see you out there!"

Of course the implication was that if they didn't see them out there then those who didn't participate wouldn't be reaping any of the rewards!

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

Welcome to our April / May event, the Spiral Games! As you can imagine we've taken inspiration from major sporting events, but this is closer to a celebration of many different skills and only some of the events are based on athleticism! You can find a full list of the events here so that this post isn't too cluttered!

So how is everything going to work?

Characters can participate in some events alone, but we encourage everyone to form teams of up to four characters! All of the team members don't need to participate in every thread if you don't want to but the option is there if you'd like! Teams will have no bearing on rewards (but it will make them easier) so there also isn't a limit of how many teams a character can be in to prevent a scenario where some characters are let out just because some people made teams early on.

If you would like to, you can give your team a name and even design a logo!

On the event list page you can see a list of events and the rewards you can earn from participating! Rewards can only be claimed by the team members who participate, so if you choose to do a one person drabble then only you get those rewards!

You can participate in as many events as you want, but the amount of Stars one character can earn from the event is capped at 500 Stars. This does not include the regular amount you get for event participation.

There will also be an unlock reward for this event, however there is a stipulation to this. In order to claim the unlock you must write at least 300 words with at least one character on your account that your muse has yet to interact with. So long as the thread is event related it will count, which is where teams could certainly help!

As always please feel free to send any questions you may have to the masterlist!

The event ends at 11:59:59PM EST on May 17th!

[ladykailitha]

Oh For a Muse of Fire! Epilogue

I want to thank everyone for the lovely support. I saw a couple questions about the other characters in the comment section of the last one and wanted to clear up a couple of things. Crystal=Argyle (he picked the name because he thought it sounded cool), Onyx=Dimitri (like @n0-1-important guessed in part 11). Diamond and his family were all OCs more on them here. Michelle (the whiny chick in the art class) is the only other OC. I tried as much as possible to include characters from the show when I could.

And to answer @ goodolefashionedloverboi‘s question: Jonathan and Nancy are in couple’s therapy and are doing better.

And then one final thing to explain (the curses of doing a WIP and posting it one at a time not every thread I put down got picked up again, oops!) is the garnet rings. I love gem stones and geology. It fascinates me so much so that I took it as an elective in high school. When I was researching a fic (don’t remember which one now) I was looking at Eddie’s rings. And a lot of people were making replicas with hard stones like hematite, onyx, or something that didn’t have cuts or facets. But Eddie’s ring sparkles. It’s clearly a gemstone. So I went looking up grey or black gemstones. I found a couple it could be but they weren’t discovered until the 90s (and while the ACTUAL stone the prop maker used could be that, I COULDN’T call it that). And then I found a grey garnet. It was a perfect match. It sparkles the way his does, the different shades it gets from the show, spot on. Hence the garnet.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6  Part 7  Part 8  Part 9 Part 10  Part 11 Part 12  Part 13 Part 14  Part 15  Part 16  Part 17

*

Two years later:

Variety Interview with Corroded Coffin

Max Mayfield: Hello, can you guys introduce yourselves for the people that have been hiding under a rock for the last two years?

They all laugh.

Jeff: I’m Jeff Lawrence, I’m rhythm guitar.

Gareth: I’m Gareth Hughes, I’m on drums.

Brian: I’m Brian Martin, I’m the bass guitarist.

Eddie: And I’m Eddie Munson, frontman, lead guitar, lead vocalist, and songwriter.

MM: That’s a lot of titles for one person.

JL: That’s because he’s the most dramatic out of all of us. He has to have allll the titles. Can’t share with the rest of us.

EM: Hey!

They all laugh again.

BM: Hey, you know it’s true.

EM: Yeah...but you’re giving away all my secrets right off the bat. Can’t you save some for later in the interview.

The other three look at each other.

JL, BM, GH: No.

Eddie throws his arms in the air.

EM: I’m telling Steve!

The other three look mock frightened for all of three seconds before they start laughing at him.

JL: You know Steve would agree with us.

Eddie pouts

MM: Can you tell us who Steve is?

Eddie fiddles with the singular ring on his right hand, looking down, bashfully. It one that I haven’t seen. Everyone is familiar with the the three chunky rings on his left hand. But this one is on his ring finger. The grey stone flashes as he plays with it.  

EM: He’s the love of my life and my muse.

JL: He’s an art teacher back home.

BM: He’s our Eddie wrangler.

GH: He’s our band mascot.

I laugh.

MM: He sounds pretty special. How did you guys meet?

JL: We all went to high school together, actually.

MM: Oh, so were you high school sweethearts, then?

Eddie laughs.

GH: Yeah, no. He laughs.

BM: Let’s just say they started off on the wrong foot.

JL: The wrong everything, let’s be honest.

EM: Not my proudest moment. I was doing a favor for a family friend being a live model for an art class about five years later and assumed the worst about him.

MM: You mean there are actual art of you naked out there?

Eddie blushes.

EM: Several pieces in fact. But my favorite is Stevie’s. It’s still hanging up in our house in my studio.

GH: I’ve seen it. It’s not gross or anything.

JL: It won best in show at the art gala it was featured in.

BM: I think he’s totally wasted as an art teacher. He could be making more than we do selling his art work. But he loves working with kids.

MM: Sounds like the perfect guy.

EM: scoffs I love Steve, but he can be the most basic bitch. And he tends to be overprotective too.

GH: But we are here to talk about the new album.

MM: Fair enough. So tell me about working on Silent Killer. This is your second album, is that correct?

JL: Yeah, our self titled debut album just went double platinum. We knew going in it was going to be a tough act to follow.

GH: When we went platinum the first time, our manager Murray Bauman sent black flowers to all the record labels that passed on us.

EM: It was very suitably bitchy. It’s why he’s our manager.

MM: Certainly sounds like it. Do you guys deviate from your first album’s style in this one?

They look at each other and Eddie shrugs

EM: I mean, not really. It’s a more somber album to be sure. There was a song that we wanted to include on Corroded Coffin but decided it didn’t fit with the overall theme of the album that made its way on this one.

MM: Which song is that?

BM: Thorns and Thistles. It’s the song that got us our agent in the first place.

JL: Yeah. Murray was mad when the record label didn’t want to use it this time round. He fought tooth and nail to get on the album.

EM: Have you heard it yet?

I nod.

MM: Yeah. It’s beautifully heartbreaking. You say your label didn’t want to use it?

BM: They thought it was too sad.

JL: So to prove them wrong we sent it out as our first single, before we even started really working on the album.

MM: It had already gone gold before you announced the new record. That must have really got stuck in their craw.

EM: We’ve been laughing all the way to the bank.

MM: You guys won a Grammy for Song of the Year for The Jester and the King and Best New Artist. How was that for you?

BM: God I don’t know which of us bawled more on that stage. But it was everything we hoped for.

JL: Winning Song of the Year was a life changer. But no one thought we were going to win Best New Artist.

MM: No?

Eddie shakes his head.

EM: It rarely goes to a rock artist, especially a metal one. Everyone thought it would go to the kid...what’s his name...? He snaps his fingers.

JL: JJ Jenner.

EM: That’s the one. Fifteen year old kid with the pipes of an angel. Everyone, including us thought it would be him.

MM: Oh, I remember now, they put the kid’s reaction to losing on the jumbotron or whatever they call their big screen.

GH: I almost felt sorry for him.

Eddie grins.

EM: Almost.

MM: When you do red carpet events, Eddie, you bring your two lesbian friends with you, while the rest of the band brings their partners. Is there a reason you don’t bring yours? Especially since I learned your partner’s name is Steve.

All the members of the band shift uncomfortably in their seats, stealing glances at each as they silently decide who is going to answer the question.

MM: Oh. I feel like I stepped on a sensitive topic. I didn’t mean to.

Gareth clears his throat.

GH: Steve’s privacy is very important to us. There are times he would like to go to these things with Eddie...

JL: But he still gets attacks and can’t. He looks down at his hands. So he goes with the girls dress shopping and helps pick out their outfits for the night.

Eddie looks like he’s going to tear up.

EM: We’re working on it. He knew going to our relationship that this might become an issue but I always do what I can to make it up to him the moment I get home.

They all look somber, so I decide to change the direction of the interview.

MM: What’s next for the Corroded Coffin boys?

They brighten up almost immediately.

BM: Touring. We’ve got an American tour this spring and then a European tour this summer.

MM: Is there a reason you decided to wait on the European tour until summer?

Eddie blushes and the rest of the band nudge him playfully.

EM: It’s so Steve can come with us. He can’t leave during the school year, but he likes touring with us when it’s out for summer break.

MM: Ah ha.

The conversation turns to non-band related things again and I watch how close they are. It’s great to see a band that are still friends after years of playing together. Even though they’ve only been big for two years, they have been playing for twelve.

Let’s hope that they stay that way for the next twenty.

-Max Mayfield

The Final Tag List: @artiststarme @allbymyselfexceptformycactus @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @itsall-taken @m-owo-n @zerokrox-blog @runyousillydetective @grimmfitzz @wonderland-girl143-blog @sapphirecobalt-1 @scheodingers-muppet @victor-thee-corvid @apricottree @bookbinderbitch @sleepyboosstuff @biatcgh @pixiefallingupthestairs @grtwdsmwhr @thepainisspicy @carlyv @eboyawstenn @bisexualdisastersworld @bidisastersworld @abstractnaturaldisaster @evix-syne666 @nerdsconquerall @lololol-1234 @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @a-little-unsteddie @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @elluminis @tailsfromthecrypt @danili666 @plyerice27 @alittlegreyfish  @n0-1-important @no-upper-limit-to-stupidity @maya-custodios-dionach @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @heaven428 @thedragonsaunt @ceaselessly-watching @imfinereallyy @messrs-weasley @sharingisntkaren @nohomoyesbi

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Second Chance 3

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Jonathan Pine

Summary: You move into your parents’ house as you try to rebuild your life, catching the attention of someone you never expected.

Part of the Brother’s Best Friend Universe

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You could say it’s Jonathan who convinced you to walk into that bar but it didn’t really take much. Anything to delay your return home is welcome. You’re grateful to your parents for taking you in, yet you can’t help but feel a little dejected all the same. You didn’t exactly return home to fanfare. 

Jonathan holds the door and you give him a look. He acts as if he doesn’t notice but you catch the glint of his blue eyes. 

“Why don’t you grab a seat and I’ll get the drinks?” He offers, “if I recall, you were a fan of Grey Goose–” 

“Oh god no, I can’t handle the headache,” you snort. 

“Ah, I see you’ve converted, pint?” He insists, 

“A glass of wine will do,” you insist, “riesling or sauvignon.” 

“Sophisticated,” he muses. 

“Relax, I usually get it in a box.” 

He smirks and turns towards the bar. You look around and claim a table against the wall, just beneath a vintage show poster for some long forgotten band. You sit and place your purse against the wooden paneling. 

You circle your thumb around your fingertip as you stare at the table. The finish is worn and a few slivers are missing along the edge. What are you doing here? Not just at this table in this bar, but in this town. You always said you would never come back. Now look at you. 

Embarrassment tendrils up your neck. You remember how loudly you proclaimed that very sentiment, every day since you turned sixteen. To the very man you came in here with. 

Jonathan finds you before you can descend too quickly into self-pity. He sits and puts a stemmed glass in front of you, a tall dark pint for himself. You reach for your purse. 

“How much do I owe you? There’s an ATM–” 

“My treat, as a congratulations.” 

You scrunch your lips then quickly slacken them, recalling how it deepens the lines around them, “what are you up to?” 

“I can’t be happy for you.” 

“Please, it’s been a long time but things haven’t changed that much.” 

“I have,” he insists, his voice deepening to a note that catches you offguard. You hide the slow realisation as it dawns; he is far from the stringy teen or the obnoxious coed… he’s a man and yet you don’t feel much different than that lost sixteen year old with the chip on her shoulder. 

“Did I never apologise for that molasses incident?” 

“Incident? Don’t try to act innocent,” you laugh. The first time you’ve truly done so in months. Looking back, those years weren’t as bad as they felt as you lived them. “I still can’t stand the smell.” 

He smirks and guiltily looks down at the table, “I was a little bastard.” 

“So you say but I still don’t hear an apology,” you chide, “it is what it is. It was years ago.” 

“Well, if it counts for anything, I do regret it,” he meets your eye. 

“If that’s your biggest regret then I think you’re doing just fine.” 

“Definitely not the biggest,” he lifts his glass and holds it out, “cheers to you.” 

You hesitate but clink the wine glass against the tall pint. You drink nearly half the glass before you remember to stop. You haven’t drank since the night it all imploded. You mad a point of it. Plus, your mother locked her wine away. 

You put the glass down and turn it slowly by its base, “sorry, I’m not much fun. I’m sure Jaydon will be up for some drinks later. You could even break out the beer pong.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Your mouth pinches again. 

“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” He asks. 

“Molasses…” you mutter. 

He laughs and shakes his head, “I will forever atone for that one,” he sits back, his hand against the side of his glass, “you don’t realise, you were always the cool older sister.” 

“Please,” you roll your eyes. 

“You were. Jaydon is Jaydon. He can’t see beyond his own nose but… well, I’m an only child, I didn’t have anyone to scare away my bullies.” 

“Yeah, well, as much as I could smack Jaydon myself, that idiot was a bit obsessed, wasn’t he?” 

He tilts his head, “he has no idea how lucky he is. None of them do.” 

“Alright, Jonathan, I can’t take any more. I didn't come for a pity party.” 

“That’s not what this is.” 

“You know.” 

“I know?” He wonders. 

“I’m not stupid. I’m pathetic, sure. I hear my mother telling all her friends on the phone. I’m sure you’ve heard everything. It’s shitty. I lost my boyfriend and my job and my overpriced apartment and now I’m back here. And you and Jaydon have lives to go back to,” you gulp and raise your glass, swallow down the wine with your bubbling emotions, “I don’t need any more reminders.” 

He watches you put down the empty glass. He stares at it before he looks you in the face, “I’ve heard what they have to say but it doesn’t mean I believe them. It’s hearsay.” 

“It’s what happened. I am not the cool older sister, I’m the fuck up.” 

He leans forward and slowly reaches for your wine glass, “and what have you heard about me, hm? How do you know I haven’t fucked up?” 

You look at him and gesture emphatically, “come on.” 

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he stands, “and pay you back with another glass.” 

Before you can argue, he’s on his way to the bar. The tinge of wine sticks to your tongue as you watch his confident march. As you examine the way the fabric of his button down strains between his shoulders blades, you blanch. You turn straight and once more lower your eyes to the table. 

No. No. It’s Jonathan. It’s your brother’s friend. It’s that skinny, reedy kid who drove you insane. You’re just lost. You’re not thinking straight. You're fresh off heartbreak, you’re not even through it. You don’t want him, you just don’t want to be alone. 

He returns and you clear your throat, fixing your posture as you smile at him. He sets a full glass in front of you. Once more, your hand is on your purse, “alright, you have to let me get this one.” 

“You can buy my next pint,” he gives a slanted grin, “I must warn you, I’m rather easy once I see the bottom of the glass.” 

You laugh, “be careful.” 

“Oh, you don’t need to worry about me, darling,” the last word flutters through you, “I’ve grown, I can handle myself.” He takes his glass again and hovers it before his lips as his winks, “and you.” 

[cantsayidont]

VELVET GOLDMINE (1998): Stylish but deadening Todd Haynes '70s glam rock homage, a CITIZEN KANE riff following reporter Arthur Stuart (Christian Bale) as he investigates the fate of glam star Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers), who faked his own on-stage murder and disappeared 10 years earlier.

As Arthur chases after people who knew Brian, including the star's estranged ex-wife Mandy (Toni Collette) and his one-time lover/muse Curt Wild (Ewan McGregor), flashbacks reveal that Arthur himself once hovered on the fringes of the glam scene, longing to be part of its hedonistic atmosphere of genderfluid gay sex without ever quite committing (although we eventually learn he did have a brief groupie tryst with Curt). In other hands than Haynes', this might have been poignant, but neither Bale's wooden performance nor the thin script provides any more reason to care about Arthur (about whose present life we're told almost nothing) than about Brian, Mandy, or Curt, whom Haynes treats more as extensions of the sets and wardrobe than as three-dimensional characters; an Oscar-bait scene where Mandy laments giving up her girlhood for Brian seems like an excerpt from a completely different movie.

Obviously, the film's principal claims to fame are its production design and the opportunity to see its skinny white British stars naked and snogging, but once the McGregor peen has been brandished and the snogging dispensed with (and awfully perfunctorily, even for 1998), the rest barely qualifies as "wispy." Dramatic stakes are nonexistent, and with so many layers of emotional detachment, even its most decadent moments are less involving than just watching some old music videos or documentary clips. As in other Haynes projects, the look and feel of the period is lavishly if superficially reproduced, but after about an hour, you may feel like you're suffocating in the display case. The soundtrack's pastiche glam rock songs are so vacuous they border on parody, and you gain nothing by recognizing the various story elements Haynes borrowed from the lives and careers of real glam rock stars like Bowie and Marc Bolan. CONTAINS LESBIANS? You must be joking. VERDICT: A collection of gifsets in search of a story, characters, or a reason to give a shit. As disdainful as I am of fanfiction, I must concede that you'd probably be better off just putting on some T. Rex and seeing what AO3 has under "Velvet Goldmine."

[andiwriteordie]

Byler camping under the stars or pinic date

OH I LOVE BOTH OF THESE PROMPTS YOU HAVE NOOOO IDEA

it's pouring rain where i live, so here you go. a little byler picnic date ficlet <3

—

drop everything now (meet me in the pouring rain)

The weather is supposed to be bad today.

“Bud, you sure you want to go for this picnic today?” Hopper had asked, gracious enough to interrupt his early morning coffee and contemplation to gesture to the weather channel playing on their family’s television. 

“Everyone, grab your raincoats!” the meterologist on the TV had declared in a tone far too cheerful for a person about to ruin Will’s entire day. “Today, we’re looking at a seventy-seven percent chance of rain. Those storm clouds will be rolling in right around noon today, and they are here to stay for the next couple days at least…”

“Might want to reschedule your date,” the grocery store clerk had suggested in response to Will’s offhand comment that his groceries—the entire list of ‘romantic’ foods that he’d compiled based on suggestions from Jonathan, Lucas, and Dustin, plus a handful of Mike’s favorite snacks—were for a picnic date. “Weather’s supposed to get real nasty today. Your girlfriend might not appreciate getting soaking wet.” 

Good thing I don’t have a girlfriend, Will had wanted to say, but instead, he’d just smiled politely, paid for his stuff, and high-tailed it back home to pack the picnic basket El had so graciously let him borrow for this date.

As it turns out, it’s a really good thing Will doesn’t have high-maintenance, afraid of rainwater girlfriend like the poor grocery store clerk had assumed because… well… you see… 

It’s pouring rain.

The weather is, in fact, very bad today, and even though the rain had held off for the better part of the day—the meterologist’s forecast calling for showers at noon, then at one, then at two—the rain is finally here with a vengeance unlike anything Will has ever known. It’s as if the heavens just decided to open up right above them, completely out of the blue, just to mess with Will.

“Oh, come on!” Will yelps, and both he and Mike sit up quickly, untangling their limbs from one another and covering their heads with their hoodies, as if that might help keep them dry. “Are you kidding?” 

Mike just laughs. He seems calm and completely unphased by the sudden interruption to their date, and honestly, it’s a little bit surprising. Between the two of them, Mike has always been the one to make the plans—and the one to become grumpy when something throws a wrench in those plans. Will, on the other hand, has always been a little more go with the flow—content to just be with Mike, in any and every circumstance. 

And that’s exactly why Will had wanted to plan this date for their six-month anniversary.

Six months isn’t all that important in the grand scheme of things, and both of them know it. But when you’re eighteen years old and have survived countless near death experiences, including an interdimensional war against different monsters capable of getting inside your head and also ripping you to pieces, you learn to celebrate the little things. 

Six months is a long time to get to be with someone, and Will knows, without a doubt in his mind, that these have been the best six months of his life. He’s never been happier than he is with Mike, and these six months have felt like the beginning of an entire new chapter of their lives that they get to figure out together.

Feels a bit like cosmic irony that the universe would decide to rain on their parade today.

“My mom did say it was gonna rain today,” Mike muses, reaching for the plate of strawberries the two of them had been munching on and carefully pulling the saran wrap back over them. He seems entirely unbothered by the fact that the rain keeps falling, harder and harder as more storm clouds roll in. “I told her we were going on a picnic today, and she asked if that was a good idea. She didn’t seem to think it was.”

Will pauses, hands clenched around one of the bags of chips they’d gotten out, and he glances over at his boyfriend hesitantly. “What’d you tell her?” he asks, unsure if he actually wants to hear the response.

Above them, thunder rumbles in the distance, and seriously, where did the thunder even come from? Jesus, the universe hates Will. It’s official. That’s the only explanation for this.

Mike’s quiet for just a brief moment, before the sound of his laughter mixes in with the rolling thunder. “I told her I didn’t care,” he says with a nonchalant shrug. “And that I just wanted to spend the day with you.” 

Despite the fact that this—the two of them and their relationship—isn’t exactly new, warmth rushes to Will’s cheeks. His hands unclench, and the bag of chips unfurls again, before dropping onto their now sopping wet picnic blanket. Will looks up, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes, and he finds in them an oh so familiar softness characteristic of Mike Wheeler. 

The rain continues to pour above them, soaking them both to the bone. It’s cold, and the wind is picking up, and there’s thunder, and Mike Wheeler is right here, dark hair plastered to his forehead, a tenderness in his eyes, and the sweetest smile on his face. 

And God, Will loves him. 

“Come here,” Will breathes, and he doesn’t give Mike a chance to react before he reaches for his boyfriend’s hand and pulls him to his feet. The two of them are clumsy on the way up, stumbling over the rain-soaked plates and bags and food, but neither one of them cares—or at least Will doesn’t think they do.

“Okay, okay,” laughs Mike, allowing Will to pull him away from the blanket and into the grass. Already, the ground is quickly becoming muddy, clinging to the bottom of their sneakers, but Mike pays no attention. Instead, he keeps his gaze on Will, holding onto his hands tightly and smiling, expectant and waiting. “What are we doing now?”

“Improvising,” Will whispers, moving one hand down to Mike’s waist and pulling him close. “Dance with me?”

And there it is again—the Mike Wheeler look, the one that still gives Will butterflies to this day. The one where he looks at Will as if Will is somehow his entire world and the one that says I love you in a million different ways without having to say it at all. Will doesn’t think he’s ever going to get tired of seeing that look on Mike’s face. 

The smile on Mike’s face grows, and he holds Will’s hand, placing his other hand on Will’s bicep and leaning close. “You want to dance with me,” he says, slowly and a bit skeptically, “in the pouring rain?”

“Maaaaybe.” Will smiles innocently, standing on his tiptoes and giving him a sweet kiss. “Only if you want to though.”

Thunder rumbles overhead, but it barely registers over the sound of Mike’s soft laughter against their kiss. “Of course, I do,” he breathes and kisses Will again, soft and slow. 

And so, that’s how the two of them end up caught in the middle of a spring rainstorm, their blanket and picnic basket full of food long forgotten in favor of a slow dance made just for them. Their only music is the sound of the rain pattering, the thunder rolling, and the wind whistling in their ears. And though the rain is cold as it falls from the sky, causing thousands of little goosebumps to form on Will’s arms, here with Mike, he finds nothing but pure warmth. 

The rest of the world disappears as the two of them dance together, careful steps taken through the muddy grass. Mike leans down, pressing his forehead against Will’s own, and he runs little circles into Will’s bicep—a careful, calming motion. Neither one of them says a word, but Will doesn’t think they have to. 

The two of them have never really needed words to say what they’re thinking, after all. Will knows, from the simple way that Mike presses a kiss against his forehead or the way that he pulls Will closer to himself until their bodies are flush against each other, that Mike loves him. And in the same way, Will knows that Mike understands, in the way that Will rests his head against Mike’s shoulder and the way he keeps his hand pressed, gentle but protective, against the small of his back, that Will loves him too.

There’s no place in the world Will would rather be in this moment.

“Sorry the rain ruined our picnic,” Mike murmurs, and he pulls away, just enough for the two of them to meet eyes. “I know you worked hard on this.” 

Will just laughs, glancing up at the sky as it continues to drop buckets and buckets of rain on them. “Should’ve known the universe would wreck our plans,” he muses. “I wouldn’t say our picnic was ruined though.”

A teasing smile forms on Mike’s face, and he leans forward, kissing Will’s forehead again. “The water-logged chocolate strawberries would probably beg to differ,” he points out. 

“Good thing I don’t care about their opinion,” quips Will and smiles back, tilting his head up to kiss Mike sweetly. “Just yours.”

“Lucky me,” Mike murmurs. He goes quiet after this and closes his eyes, content to just sway back and forth, back and forth with Will in the rain, but finally, after a few moments, he opens his eyes once more and looks down at Will. “Thanks for this… I had a lot of fun today.”

“Of course,” Will whispers back, and the two of them share a smile. Above them the rain continues to fall, soaking both of them to the bone, and as Mike rests his forehead against Will’s own, Will can’t help but just feel happy. 

I love you, he thinks to himself. He doesn’t say it aloud, but somehow, Mike gets it anyway. The smile on his face grows, full of that familiar softness, and he reaches one hand up, cupping Will’s face gently. 

I love you too, Mike seems to say as he runs his thumb across Will’s cheek. It’s together that the two of them move, like puzzle pieces slotting into place, and when Mike kisses him, it feels like pure electricity, still just as exhilarating as the very first time the two of them kissed, sparks flying and lighting up both their worlds unlike anything either one of them has ever known.

And Will knows, deep in his heart, that there’s no place either of them would rather be.

[poorlittlegreenie13]

Greenie's Masterlist — Come & join the party <3

About Me:

Hi! My name is Greenie, which is a reference from David Bowie's song The Jean Genie which has the lyric "Poor little Greenie" in it.

I'm a 20-something lesbian virgo, triple earth sign, eternal-student, Donna Tartt enthusiast, 90's alt rock enthusiast, record-collector, & fic writer <3.

This blog doesn't have a specific theme... I go wherever the muses take me. Below you'll find links to & descriptions of all of my fics sorted by fandom.

Link to my AO3

Stories:

The Bear:

Rules For (fake) Dating an Italian 🇮🇹 - Sydney/Carmy. Complete, WC: 100K.

WANTED: Female, aged 20-30, to be my date for Christmas eve dinner with my Italian family. Must be willing to eat my mom’s cooking. No physical intimacy required. No strings attached—I will drive you home after. 4pm-10pm, 12/24. Salary negotiable. Call Carmen: (773) 555-0901.

OR: The one in which Sydney just needs a job, and Carmy will die before he proves Richie right.

Yellowjackets:

Wretched Things 🔥 - Jackie/Shauna, Taissa/Van, Lottie/Natalie. Complete, WC: 260K

It’s been five years since Shauna Sadecki volunteered for Jackie Taylor at the Reaping and won the 45th Hunger Games. Now, at the second annual Quarter Quell, everyone who has been previously Reaped is eligible to be thrown back into the arena. That includes former best friends Lottie and Natalie, and former lovers Van and Taissa.

(aka, me offering up another Yellowjackets Hunger Games AU)

The Killing of a Sacred Doe 🦌 - Lottie/Natalie, Jackie/Shauna, (minor Tai/Van, minor Natalie/Shauna). In progress.

|| Inspired by The Secret History by Donna Tartt || (but can be read without having read TSH)

By every metric that matters, Natalie Scatorccio should not have been admitted to Wiskayok Conservatory for The Arts. She didn’t have the test scores, or the tuition money, or any particular talent or ambition that might have made her a promising asset for a conservatory to acquire. She did have a drinking problem, a dead father, and no other option. So sure, why not art school? It was better than rehab. Or jail. 

let the light in 🖤 - Van/Taissa. Complete, WC: 5k.

“Take me home, please, Van.”

Taissa’s words are soft. Not a question, just a destination. They have always been heading here.

(Post finale getting-back-together fic)

Six of Crows / Shadow & Bone:

angelum mortis amo 🪽 - Jesper/Wylan. Complete, WC: 45k.

Jesper and Wylan are both hitmen from rival gangs. Wylan tries to kill Jesper. It goes about as well as you might expect.

(Featuring crazy-in-love Wylan Van Eck, flirting-at-gunpoint Jesper Fahey, and mob boss Kaz Brekker).

Show Me Yours 🐦‍⬛ - Jesper/Wylan. Complete, WC: 20k.

Wylan's past abuse hovers over him like a shadow. Jesper's gambling addiction binds him like a chain. But as they grow closer, it turns out secrets can melt like ice in the right kind of warmth.

(A character study of TV show-Wylan & Jesper & the way their backstories could factor into the progression of their relationship).

Stranger Things:

Star Star ✨ - Steve/Eddie (minor Chrissy/Robin). Complete, WC: 93K.

Rock band AU in which Robin, Eddie, Jonathan, Nancy, and Chrissy play in a band, and Steve has no choice but to hang out with the most annoying frontman in the world, Eddie Munson. Things escalate when they're forced to pretend they're in a relationship.

Modern AU, fake-dating (kind of).

I Buried a Hatchet (it's coming up lavender) 🪓 - Robin/Nancy (minor Steve/Eddie). Complete, WC: 60K.

Vecna nearly killed Robin before Nancy could take him out for good. Luckily, Robin's too stubborn to die, and Nancy's too stubborn to let her. Nursing her back to health, Nancy soon begins to question the feelings that almost losing Robin awoke in her.

In which Nancy has to do everything herself, compulsory heterosexuality is a bitch, and Robin Buckley is more charming than she thinks she is.

Harry Potter / Marauders:

Burn, Pine, Perish 🎶 - James/Regulus (minor Sirius/Remus). Complete, WC: 33k.

Sirius' family has magically forbidden him from dating anyone until Regulus finds a suitable pureblood partner. The problem is, Sirius is in love with a certain werwolf, and Regulus' romantic inclinations remain a mystery.

James, a pureblood, is nothing if not eager to help a friend.

AKA - A '10 Things I Hate About You' AU in which James attempts to woo Regulus so Sirius can have a chance with Remus.

Lonely Bones 🦴 - Draco/Hermione. Incomplete, on indefinite hiatus, I'm sorry, please stop asking me when I'm going to finish it, your guess is as good as mine, final answers is... sometime, probably, maybe?

Hermione Granger can't sleep. Draco Malfoy can't walk. The war is over, but it feels like it isn't. Neither of them are happy, but maybe the times together are better than the times apart. 

Draco is cursed in the battle of Hogwarts with unhealable bone fractures. Hermione is in desperate need of money to bring her parents back from Australia, and when Narcissa offers her a job attempting to cure Draco, she has no choice but to take it.

A League of Their Own:

It's Rotten Work 💐 - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 10K.

Nobody's ever taken care of Jess McCready.

Not until she met Lupe García, anyway.

(In which Jess is oblivious, Lupe is romantic, and both of them are a little bit confused.)

Devour What's Truly Yours 🏴‍☠️ written in collaboration with the lovely @somebodytoundress - Jess/Lupe. Complete, WC: 37K.

Lupe Garcia had planned to go down with her pirate ship when it was raided by Spanish soldiers one dreadful night. Bleeding out on the deck, she accepted her fate—until an infamous ghostly captain with no name and a haunting face rescued her from the burning ship and nursed her back to health. With no ship, no crew, and no fortune, the solution is clear for Lupe. She‘s going to kill this captain and take over her crew so she may return to ruling the seas. And she’s definitely not going to fall in love with her.

Simply Elegant 🚬 - Jess/Lupe. Complete, WC: 7K.

Lupe is the most popular jock in school.

Jess is a burnout weed dealer.

Lupe goes to Jess to buy weed for a party, and things progress from there.

Bein' Good Isn't Always Easy ⛪️ - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 32K.

The hottest part of summer, working in a guitar shop in the heart of Texas, Jess has the worst sunburn of her life. And she has the hots for the preacher’s daughter. She’s not sure which is worse.

Sing Me to Sleep 🌃 - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 5K.

Lupe's past comes back to haunt her on the anniversary of an important date.

Jess tries to understand. They fall a bit deeper in love.

Slice of life.

Keep Your Electric Eye on Me, Babe ⚡️- Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 4K.

Five times Jess caught Lupe's eye when she shouldn't have + one time Lupe did something about it.

Fever With Thy Flaming Youth 🌡️ - Jess/Lupe. Complete. WC: 2.5K.

Estí gets the flu. Jess & Lupe take care of her.

FAQs

Can I translate your fic?

Please ask first! We can discuss details.

Can I bind/print your fic?

As long as it's legal and no one is profiting off of it, go wild, send pictures when you're done!

Why haven't you updated (insert fic)?

Either I lost interest in it for some reason, or I got really excited about something else & intend to return to it, or I have something personal going on & can't write as much. Sorry!

Can I make fan art of your fic?

PLEASE make fan art of my fic. Please send it to me when you're done so I can share it!!!!

[vickyvicarious]

Interesting that aside from being revived by the moonlight some of the vampires muse about the "soft moonlight", reminds me of Jonathan being enchanted by the softness of the moonlight we saw him enjoying moongazing more than once. Too bad that the vampires like the moonlight as much as he.

We see the moon prominent with the Sisters and also Dracula... I remember that Mina says the moon was full when she found Dracula biting Lucy in the cemetery, it was also strong when Renfield was in a mysterious fit, when Dracula made Mina drink his blood...

Who knows, maybe Dracula and his vampires can resurrect with the moon too, but only if killed with non-stab-heart+cut-head ways? Though even if so, Dracula is way too powerful to be killed by randos anyway he was super fast and able to jump off the building when they ambushed him in his house during daylight.

I have a whole tag for "dracula moonlight" for a reason, yeah! (And that is where the list of vampire+moonlight quotes this ask is referencing can be found.) I've talked about it before for individual scenes but in short I think that in the novel the moonlight is used to emphasize the supernatural, often in contrast to the 'natural' more modern world. There are some early scenes where Jonathan even muses about his modern lamp lighting versus the moonlight. And the major 'onscreen' scenes of vampire attacks all include some reference to the moon, as you've described.

I don't think the book is going for any moon revival angle though, because Van Helsing never mentions it, like he does even for other myths they don't test/take advantage of (like the wild rose, or the sacred bullet). The most he says is that they are more powerful at night and should be fought during the day when their powers are limited ("His power ceases, as does that of all evil things, at the coming of the day."), which isn't really specific about whether they are just too powerful to be killed at night, or if they would arise again under the moonlight even if they were. The way they talk does suggest that the methods used to permanently kill him are necessary regardless. There's no "stab him and he'd die like a normal man but then come back" so much as there is a "stab him and he would not die like a normal man" as in the Mate's attack on him (though that's debatable if he got fully stabbed or turned into mist to avoid it).

However, the way it is used thematically means that moonlight is prominent when vampires are in power, and so every time our heroes fully triumph over vampires they are not in the moonlight. So there's certainly no canon basis to say it couldn't work that way. Our people also want to be very sure so they don't ever 'kill' a vampire without both staking and beheading (and typically consecrating the soil they rest in as well), so who's to say it couldn't happen otherwise.

All to say... I don't consider it canon but I'd accept it!

[setaripendragon]

Trying to organize my ask notebook better since I've run out of space under general fandom asks and I would like to know what fandoms you are in so I can ask the correct people about the correct fandoms.

I think my main ones are Bagginshield/The Hobbit, Sherlock/Johnlock, Dragon Age Inquisition, {Pippin/Faramir Merry/Eowyn}/The Lord of the Rings and I dip my toes in a few that I currently can't remember but ones I don't engage in canon at all are Good Omens but only for Crowley/Azirapheal ship, Stranger Things but only for Steve/Eddie ship, The Witcher but only for Geralt/Jaskier things and Ladybug and Cat Noir but only for Adrinette .

Also do you like getting asks that are or include story ideas or snippets?

*Asks are sent for fun, no pressure to answer within a certain amount of time or at all.

Ooh, I am in so many fandoms XD It wouldn't actually be easier to list the ones I'm not in, but sometimes it feels that way.

Definitely there with you on The Hobbit and Bagginshield and Lord of the Rings and that whole 'verse, and I'm all in on the Good Omens and The Witcher (well, all in on most of the fandom, I've read some of one of the books, played some of one of the games, watched some of one of the shows... XD).

I also enjoy me some Sherlock, but my preferred flavour is Elementary, rather than BBC.

At the moment my main fandoms are One Piece (catching up with the anime atm, it's taking a while XD), Supernatural, and Star Wars (pretty much entirely second hand, except for the Kenobi show and recently being bullied into watching the Mandalorian with a friend =P).

Okay, I'm going to try and be concise now because otherwise we'll be here all day. Here are fandoms that I've written stuff for (published or not): A Song of Ice and Fire, Alice in Wonerland, Assassin's Creed, Avatar the Last Airbender, Black Butler, Bleach, James Bond, Charmed, Criminal Minds, Critical Role, Emperor's Edge, Fairy Tail, Firefly, Frozen, Fruits Basket, FullMetal Alchemist, Girl Genius, Rise of the Guardians, Harry Potter, Kingsman, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Merlin, Chronicles of Narnia, Naruto, Avatar (2009), Once Upon a Time, Peaky Blinders, Percy Jackson, Pride and Prejudice, The Sandman, Shadowhunters, Sinbad (Dreamworks), Jonathan Strange and Mr Norrell, Teen Wolf, The Untamed, Torchwood, White Collar, X-Men.

I'm not, you know, deep in the fandom of more than usually three or four at a time, but my muse wanders like she's got itchy feet. And I'm probably at least passingly familiar with several other fandoms: I'm enjoying watching Dungeon Meshi at the moment but I haven't yet got the itch to play in that sandbox, I love reading Scum Villain's Self Saving System fanfic but I don't feel I know the characters well enough to write my own, I watched basically all of the Disney animated movies as a kid but I haven't yet had a solid enough idea to write, I have seen some of Stranger Things but I watched most of it while somewhat sleep deprived and that is not the best way to watch horror ^^" I've played FF7, I've read the Hunger Games, I've watched Yuri On Ice, etc, but I don't have a convenient list of those, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I won't make this any longer than it needs to be going into my ships unless you ask specifically, but let it be said that I'm a polyshipper in a big way (nothing gets my brain to go brrrrrrr like complicated relationship dynamics =3), and making it onto my NoTP list takes some seriously rancid vibes and/or overly pushy fans, and it's always safe to ask me about a ship =P

Story ideas are very welcome! The muse needs constant feeding =P I won't make any guarantees about them going anywhere, but I love seeing them all the same. Snippets... are probably the same? I don't know, I've never been sent one. I'm probably even less likely to do anything with them, just because of stupid brain quirks, but who knows?