#(shaggy: thinking about that one time he dated an alien)

[frcgmentmuses]

"I've saved the world from Zim MULTIPLE TIMES! Why can't anyone see what's really going on???" Dib to any muse

“Well like, in my experience. Folks don’t really like, see what’s in front of them all the time. It’s like, this thing were you rationalize anything not normal into something normal so you don’t have to deal with it.”

Then again, it wasn’t like Shaggy had any room to talk. If he hadn’t seen so much real supernatural activity, he’d probably be just as bad.

But at this point, he was more miffed at an evil alien giving aliens a bad name on earth.

“Or– was that like, rhetorical?”

[admiralty-xfd]

Fortuna Redux

A retelling of the X-Files revival, if it had taken place immediately post-IWTB.

Chapter One

For Scully, it began not long after Christian Fearon lived, after she found hope again. Mulder kissed her in their driveway... Don’t give up ... and she didn’t. She wouldn’t. They carried on, knowing the darkness would always find them, daring it to try.

She felt Mulder’s freedom the same way he did: wrapped around them like a cozy blanket. He now breathed the air of a truly free man, and although Scully had accepted this reprieve, filled her lungs with that very air, it was still his air, not theirs together. She couldn’t help but continue to feel a hole in her heart, the gaping wound that had been weeping ever since she’d given up William.

That was when her visions began: a terrible premonition of death and destruction, alien colonization, a global pandemic. And an eleven-year-old boy with hazel eyes and shaggy brown hair at the center of it all.

Eleven. She couldn’t ignore the implications of his age in the visions. But she’d never believed in the 2012 alien colonization date, not really. Maybe she’d simply preferred denial. For years she’d considered telling Mulder so: that the thing he’d devoted every waking hour to since he’d learned it was, she suspected, a waste of his time. But she never did. He’d heard it all before, his entire life, in fact. It would never deter him. Her father had been gone for a long time but her Ahab was still here; it was Mulder, through and through, as long as she’d known him.

Now, however, her son was coming to her every night, telling her this was all indeed very real. Somehow against all the odds, they had remained connected after all these years: mother and son. While she’d tried her hardest to forget him he was now insisting she remember.

Don’t give up.

She and Mulder had been adrift in a raging sea of their own making: the deafening silence they’d carried between them about William. It had always been difficult for the two of them to discuss any of it. For so long she’d feared that loss would inevitably pull them under, and rather than brave the riptide, she’d simply tried her best to keep them both afloat.

Things were different now, very different. The visions weren’t receding into the distance, they’d been coming on stronger and more frequently. The riptide was now a whirlpool, and it was only a matter of time before they would drown. Christian Fearon’s survival, however, had reaffirmed her faith in herself and her decisions. She couldn’t ignore the connection between her young patient and the reintroduction of her son into her world.

She knew she had to say something to Mulder about the visions. She had no choice.

This time, she believed.

“What do you see, Scully?” he asked her. They lay in bed, facing each other in the dark.

“I see… William.”

He was silent, absorbing the enormity of this moment: the moment they would finally discuss their long-lost son. Not in passing, not as a perfunctory gesture. But a real discussion.

She sighed. “Mulder, I never told you before… but this isn’t the first time I’ve experienced something like this.”

He looked at her curiously, a thousand of her own arguments against such a possibility surely racing to the forefront of his mind. “What do you mean?”

“When you were taken from me, back when I was pregnant,” she explained. “I had visions like this… of you. I saw the experiments they did on you. I could... almost feel your suffering.”

He inhaled sharply, his face etched with the discomfort of long-buried trauma. But he listened.

“I was certain at the time William was doing it, sending me those visions. Even from the womb.”

His disquiet became amusement. Raising an eyebrow with a slight smile, “You, Scully?”

She closed her eyes.“I had nothing else to hold onto, Mulder. He was all I had left of you at the time. I wanted so badly to believe it.”

He nodded, listening.

“I think… that maybe we’ve always had this connection, William and me,” she revealed. “It happened with Emily too. Somehow she found a way to contact me, do you remember? These children, Mulder…” she trailed off, unable to explain that which she did not understand; unable to even claim them as her own with her words.

“Why do you think the visions are happening now?” Mulder asked.  

She wished she knew. “I don’t know,” she answered honestly.

After a few moments of loaded silence, Mulder spoke again.

“Is he… happy?”

She felt it then, the tightening in her gut that always pulled her heart in two directions. One: that she missed her son dreadfully and would have done absolutely anything to keep him with her, and two: that she loved him so deeply she would have done absolutely anything to keep him safe. But despite her conflicting emotions, there was one truth she could feel for certain whenever she communicated with him.

“He is,” she answered. “He has a good life.”

Mulder took her hand and kissed it in the darkness. “Tell me, Scully,” he said. “Please… tell me.”

She knew exactly what he was asking her, what he wanted to know, and she sighed heavily, placing her hand against his heart.

“He looks like you,” she said quietly. “Exactly like you.” She swore she could feel his heart stop in his chest.

He nodded, his eyes brimming with tears, and that was all it took. The dam broke, the floodgates opened. She wept into his chest as he cradled her against him, stroking her hair. The years-long embargo on all of the topics left undiscussed between them was no more, and while at first their tears were of sadness, they morphed into tears of relief.

Fox Mulder and Dana Scully were reborn.

She hadn’t realized until that very moment that the trust they’d built over the years had been slowly eroding. Had she never experienced these visions, what might she’ve held in? What might they have kept from one another?

How might they have ended?

Had William, the loss of whom had once threatened their resilience, actually saved them from certain doom?

They spoke of what the visions meant, how they were certainly connected to Mulder's colonization date. That she was seeing these things for a reason. That William was in danger, and that the very planet could be depending upon them.

They lay quiet for a moment, both absorbing everything, all of it. Mulder held her close, and she wrapped herself around him. The wound on her heart might always be there, but Mulder was the salve. It felt like the two of them against the world, as it always had been, but never before had she felt so powerful. This was their call, their truth, and they had to answer it.

Tonight, they were finally breathing together.

“Scully…” he whispered into her ear. “Are you ready for this?”

She didn’t know there was a choice.

Read the rest on Ao3

[alinastracker]

for the prompt thing: 62 or 69 <3

you got it bb <3

prompt: I wanted to tell you that I liked you before prom but chickened out and now we’re about to graduate college and I can’t hold it in any longer

i can’t fight this feeling any longer (and yet i’m still afraid to let it flow)

"Mal, I love you."

Alina frowns, shakes her head, and tries again.

"Mal, you've been my best friend for so long, and I love our friendship, but you see, I'm also head over heels in love with you."

She blows out a frustrated breath, her newly chopped bangs briefly floating off of her forehead. Telling her best friend of nearly six years she’s in love with him should not be the number one thing on her mind right now. It’s graduation day, for Saints sake. A day she hadn’t been sure she would ever see. But all she can think about is Mal.

She had met him on one of the worst days of her life. Alina had been transferred to a new foster home in the middle of her junior year of high school. There were few things worse in adolescent life than moving to a new school in the middle of the year — especially in high school, in a small town where everyone seemed to know each other. 

Alina had walked the halls that day clutching onto the straps of her backpack, late to nearly every class because her sense of direction was shit, and had even gone as far as to eat lunch in the bathroom like a stereotypical teen movie, the thought of walking into the cafeteria with all those eyes on her nearly ruining her appetite entirely. She had been stared at enough as it was. 

Her last class of the day was art, and she was praying for it to be the reprieve she so desperately needed. If only she could fucking find it. The warning bell rang, heightening her already raised anxiety. Alina took a corner too fast and slammed right into a wall. No, not a wall — a boy. 

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, scrambling to her knees to help pick up the papers she made him drop. 

“All good,” the boy reassured her.

Once the two of them had the papers off the floor, Alina looked up and nearly dropped them again. She was looking into the warm brown eyes of possibly the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. He had a strong, defined jaw, grown out hair that wasn’t too shaggy, but still long enough to run her fingers through. And Saints, his lips. She was already imagining what those lips would feel like, subconsciously licking her own. 

One side of the boy’s mouth quirked up, just a hint of a smirk, like he was used to having this effect on people. Shit, had he noticed her staring? Say something, Alina. 

“Um, sorry,” she managed finally, handing him the pile of collected papers. 

He chuckled. “You said that already.”

She tried a laugh of her own, but it came out all wrong, choppy and nervous. “Right.” 

The boy stood to his full height, and for fucks sake, he had to be tall, too? She rose from her knees and he still towered over her. It was extremely attractive. 

“So you’re the new girl,” he said, not a question but a statement. “I’ve heard murmurings about you today.”

“Murmurings?” 

“Nothing bad. It’s just a small town. When someone new shows up, people notice.” He smiled, stuck out his hand. It took everything in her not to think about how long his fingers were. “I’m Mal.”

She took his hand, her own so tiny in comparison. “Alina.”

“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where are you headed?”

“220B? History of Traditional Art.”

Mal nodded. “Well, I can’t say that’s a room I’m super familiar with. I’m a shit artist. These hands are much better for other activities.” Her eyes must have widened, revealing just how filthy her mind was, because he quickly added, “Sports! I meant sports!”

A look passed between them, and then they were both laughing. It felt so good to laugh after the day she’d had. 

“Anyway,” Mal continued, “I can help you find your way. I might not visit the art hall often, but I know my way around.”

Alina shot him another pointed look, and Mal groaned. “My way around the school! Saints, I’m really shooting myself in the foot as far as first impressions go, aren’t I?”

She grinned, but only said, “You’ll be late for class.” The final bell was going to ring any second. 

Mal waved her off. “That’s all right. What poor representation of Stag Spirit would I be if I let the new girl walk around like a lost puppy? And besides,” he shot her a grin to match her own, “we can’t have you running around, terrorizing other kids and their poor papers now, can we?”

Alina let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I said I was sorry!”

He turned, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Did you? Must have missed it.”

She shot daggers in his direction, but she smiled the whole way to the art room. The next day, she dared to actually step into the cafeteria for lunch. People were still staring, but after yesterday, she expected it. Part of her was hoping she would find Mal in the crowded space, but she doubted it would matter even if she did. After some social media stalking last night, Alina had discovered what she should have known from the start — Mal was popular. He would already have a flock around him, friends he had known since childhood, who were just like him — attractive, athletic, alien to a kid like Alina who preferred quiet cafes and sketchpads to football fields and pompoms. He had been nice to her yesterday, sure, but that didn’t mean—

“Alina!”

Her head popped up, scanning the sea of tables until she saw him, standing and waving her over. Sure enough, Mal was at a table filled with pretty, sociable looking people. But there was a space open next to him, and she realized with a little jump of her heart that he had saved that space for her. 

It was the start of the fastest and fiercest friendship she would ever have. Mal was popular and sporty, yes, but he was also kind, funny, smart — and most surprising, had grown up in the foster care system, too. Alina made friends with his friends, a few of her own from her art class, but none of them matched what she grew with Mal. Suddenly she was a football field kind of girl, dressing from head to toe in school colors for each match, cheering for her best friend so loud she gave the cheer squad a run for their money. Over the next year and half, they were entirely attached at the hip. 

And while it had truly started as a friendship, by the time senior prom came around, Alina had to face the fact: she was head over heels for the boy. Hell, she had noticed how attractive he was from that first fateful meeting. Mix that with how genuinely good she knew he was — how caring, how attentive, how it felt to have his head rest on her shoulder as he fell asleep during a movie; who could blame her for falling for him? 

“You have to tell him!” her friend from art class, Yelena, had insisted. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll do it at prom.”

They were going as a group — her, Mal, Mikhael, Dubrov, Yelena, and a few others from their meshed circle of friends, brought together by the two of them. But Mal had still matched his tie to her dress, a stunning royal blue. Mal had still bought her a corsage — a delicate thing of mostly blue irises, her favorite flower. He was not her date, yet in every way except in name, it felt like he was, and Alina basked in the feeling. 

But as song after song played, Alina found herself backing out each time she tried to approach him. Yelena was shooting pointed looks at her all night, murmuring as she passed her, “You’re running out of time.”

Then a punky pop song came on, one of her and Mal’s favorites. She called him over. “Dance with me!” she exclaimed, and laughed as he all but pulled her onto the dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers, but they were enthusiastic, at least with each other. As the song neared its end, Alina sucked in a breath.

“Mal, I have to tell you something.”

He raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. The song ended, and their principal took to the stage. “All right folks, it’s time to announce your prom king and queen!”

Everyone was cheering and turning to the stage, but Mal was still looking at her, still waiting for her answer.

Alina opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “Thank you for the corsage. I really love it.”

Mal gave her a quizzical look, lips tugging down — and was that disappointment in his eyes? Before she could fully read him, his face smoothed, his usual charmed smile returning. “Of course, Lina.” 

“And your prom king is,” the principal was saying, “Malyen Oretsev!”

The crowd roared. Mal’s smile turned sheepish, and he took to the stage to accept his crown. Ruby was named prom queen, to no one’s surprise. Alina watched them dance together in the middle of the room to a romantic song that would now forever be ruined for her. A little later that night, Mal came up to her, said, “You can get a ride home with Yelena, right?” He motioned behind him, flushing a little even as he grinned, to where Ruby was waiting. “I’m gonna head out.”

Alina swallowed the stupid lump in her throat and nodded. Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then he was gone. She would spend the night at Yelena’s, crying on her shoulder that she had missed her chance — if she’d ever had one to begin with. Because of course Mal would choose Ruby. Beautiful, blond Ruby, much more his equal than Alina could ever be. 

Graduation came, and it was happy. But in all of the pictures and celebrations was Ruby — no longer just captain of the cheer squad Ruby, but Mal’s girlfriend Ruby. She watched them partake in a summer romance that she was guiltily happy to see fizzle out once college came and split them apart. Luckily, her and Mal were off to Os Alta University together, home of the Firebirds. They forged a new friend group there: the twins, Tolya and Tamar, Nadia, David, Genya, Zoya, Nikolai. Mal didn’t really date freshman year, sticking to little flings that Alina told herself didn’t matter. In sophomore year, the tension between him and Zoya finally snapped, and the two of them had a brief . . . something together. 

Of course, Alina had her own dabbles in romance — Alexei being the sweetest, Aleksander nearly making her swear off men all together. Her next two flings were with women, both because she had finally fully accepted her bisexuality and because she truly had lost trust in the male species. She even made out with Nikolai a couple times, but they had both just been using each other. They’d spent one night in a club so obnoxiously all over one another that Zoya had stormed out. Her thing with Mal had been off and on at that point, and the next morning, she texted him that they were off for good. 

Two weeks later, Nikolai and Zoya were dating. Mal was single. 

And still, she hadn’t made a move. 

Alina stares in the mirror now, watching the tassel on her graduation cap sway back and forth. In an hour, she’ll be moving it from the right to the left and leave Os Alta University in the rear window. It hadn’t been easy getting here — nothing is easy for a foster care kid, especially one who wants to be an artist. But she’s done it. She’s graduating with top honors. Saints, she even has a job lined up. Everything she worried about growing up — making a future for herself, being swallowed by the system, figuring out who she is without the guidance of her birth parents — she has faced all of it head on. At every step, she’s run after what she’s wanted and grabbed it by the hands until it was hers.

Everything except Mal. 

And try as she might, she can’t imagine a future without him in it.

He’s not seeing anyone — for now. Last night he texted her, laughing about how Ruby of all people had hit him up. She’s going to be in the city this weekend, apparently, and asked if he wanted to get a drink. It felt like prom all over again.

“Alina, come on!” Genya calls. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” she calls back.

Alina follows Genya and Zoya down to the car, sits numbly in the backseat as they drive to the giant building holding their graduation ceremony. 

“Look alive, Starkov,” Zoya says as they get out of the car, linking their arms. “Today is for happy things. New beginnings.”

Genya takes her other arm. “No pouting about boys unless you’re going to do something about it.”

She smiles, and for a little while, it’s not forced. There’s a rush of excitement as they walk inside and find their seats. Genya isn’t too far off from her, but Zoya’s a few rows ahead. In the rows between them, still too far to talk to but not too far to make out the back of his head, is Mal. He’s talking to the guy next to him, even though she’s pretty sure he doesn’t know him. But that’s Mal, blooming wherever he’s planted.

Alina knows she shouldn’t, but the ceremony hasn’t started yet, so she stands and calls out, “Mal!” 

Somehow, he hears her over all the ruckus around them. The smile he gives her has her heart beating double time. “I’ll find you after!” he shouts back, though of course, she already knew that. Mal always finds her.

As the ceremony starts and a handful of different people come up to make speeches, she finds herself slipping into her thoughts from earlier. In her head, she sees Mal and Ruby, meeting for that drink. They pick up right where they left off. Ruby moves to the city, moves in with Mal. Alina’s there through all of it, supporting Mal like she always has, always will. On the sidelines she stays, watching him as he gets married and has ridiculously beautiful babies. None of it is real, not yet, but the thought is so painful she has tears in her eyes. 

Well, at least she can blame the tears on emotional graduation bullshit as she watches her friends walk the stage, cheering for each of them even though they’re not supposed to. Tamar and Tolya, the latter looking pretty emotional himself. David, who walks quickly even though he’s probably the most awarded student of the whole graduating class. Nikolai, who dramatically presses a kiss to the hand of the Os Alta University President after she hands him his diploma. Zoya, who walks the stage as if she owns it. 

Then Mal’s name is called, and she cheers so loud she’s pretty sure he hears it, if the grin on his face is any indication. Genya crosses, graceful as always. When her own name is called, she’s not expecting much. She has no family here save from the one she forged for herself. But as she walks, she can hear a very distinct cheer from a very distinct voice, and butterflies swarm drunkenly in her stomach. 

In the minutes that pass between her walking the stage and the last name being called — poor Nadia —Alina knows what she’s going to do. No backing out this time.

“Congratulations, Class of 2021!”

Everyone cheers, and graduation caps go flying through the air. Alina tosses hers with everyone else, and then she takes off, pushing through her classmates as they jump and shout, running until she finds the right row, forces herself through the bodies in her way, until she’s in front of him. Until she’s found Mal. 

“Alina,” he says in surprise. “What are you—”

“Don’t get a drink with Ruby.”

Mal frowns. “What?”

“I said don’t get a drink with Ruby!” she says, louder this time.

“I heard you. I’m just confused.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “Why shouldn’t I have a drink with Ruby, and why did you run to tell me this right now?”

Because I’ve been in love with you from the first moment I saw you. 

Because I wanted to tell you at prom, but I chickened out. 

Because I’ve watched you kiss other girls for almost six years now, and I can’t stand to just watch any longer.

Alina doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she presses onto her tip toes, takes his face between her hands, and kisses him. 

Mal stiffens, but doesn’t give her time to worry before he relaxes again, pulling her body against his, lifting her so she doesn’t have to stretch so far anymore. All around them are the happy cheers of a group of people at the end of one road stepping onto another. Families in the stands hoot and holler for their children, wipe tears and think, they made it. 

But for Alina, it’s like being in a room where nothing exists except her and Mal, her best friend, her constant, the most important person in her life. She’s kissing him, she’s finally kissing him, and he’s kissing her back as if he’s been waiting for six years to do this, too. Like maybe he’s wanted her all along.

“Alina,” he breathes when their lips part, their foreheads pressed together instead. “Thank the bloody Saints.”

She giggles, actually fucking giggles, like a lovestruck school girl. “I’ve wanted this since prom. Before, even.”

Mal smiles, shakes his head the tiniest bit. “Me too.”

They laugh, so close that they’re breathing each other in. Two idiots, that’s what they are. But there’s no room to groan about what could’ve been sooner, no room to drown in regrets. They are young, and there is only room for joy in knowing they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time. Starting now. Their lips meet again. Mal is steady and warm against her. He feels like home. It’s everything she’s ever imagined. It’s better. 

Alina can see her future so clearly now, because she knows no matter what comes next, she’ll have Mal beside her to navigate through it.

He is all she’s ever wanted — her forever person, who won’t leave when she’s being unreasonable, who’s love is not conditional. He is all she’ll ever need.  

[masterjedilenawrites]

Blueberries and Cowboys: Chapter 3 (Cowboy Path)

A choose-your-own-adventure style fic. Refer to this Masterlist for previous chapters and alternate paths.

Chapter 3: The Preparation (Cowboy Path)

Pairing: Eli x reader

Content: Light swearing, reader is an awkward pining idiot, no indication yet if your crush likes you back, but we’re just warming up here…

Length: 1.6k

AO3 Link (In case you like it better over there, it’s okay, no judgement)

It really would be best for you to go to the gala with Thrawn. It made sense. He was an alien and you were the only girl at the Academy willing to be seen with him. And while Eli wasn't exactly popular, you could easily count how many girls would gladly be his date to a dance. It was just that plain and simple.

So then why did you feel so... glum?

You gave yourself a once-over in the tiny mirror of your dorm. You supposed you looked nice, better than you usually did anyway. You'd managed to find a decent dress on sale, and your hair cooperated with you for once. But there was something off. You stared at yourself, looking for something, but not knowing what. Only the soft knock at the door pulled you from your pondering.

You had been excited before. Dressing up, dancing, drinking.... You'd rarely had the time for such things over the last year, and never as an official, Academy-approved event.

But now you weren't sure if you'd be able to enjoy any of it. Thrawn only occasionally spoke about it the week leading up to the event, and when he did, it was exclusively in terms of the plan. You'd helped successfully get Arden and Eva to go to the gala together as dates, and already Commander Burdick was pissed about it. But Thrawn had arranged a system for how the three of you would observe, and possibly even intervene, to ensure Burdick decided to pin his sabotage on Arden. It did not sound like a night of fun to you.

And even worse, you wouldn't be able to wallow alongside Eli, your only comrade in times of such misery. As predicted, Eli had had no trouble finding himself a date. Sadie Amiko. She was a cute, petite thing with curves, clear skin, and a dazzling smile. You knew she was in a few of your classes and got good grades. And all Eli had mentioned was she had been excited to accept his invite. And that he seemed pretty eager himself.

You were surprised, then, to see the person who'd been knocking at your door was Eli.

Surprised, and just a little bit flustered.

"Do you know how to tie a tie?" he asked with a sheepish smile, holding up a wad of navy blue satin. You gulped, trying not to let your eyes wander over him too noticeably. He was actually wearing a suit, fitted to his slim frame, and with shiny shoes and snazzy cufflinks to complete the look. The only thing he hadn't seemed to pay attention to was his hair, which was still in its usual, shaggy style. But it honestly made him look that much better. He was classy, but not fancy. Rugged, but not unkempt.

"Um," was all you could say. He looked at you expectantly, and after a moment you finally processed what he was asking for. "Oh. Um, sure, I think I can figure it out."

He heaved a sigh of relief as you let him into your dorm. Thankfully you didn't have any roommates; your old one had transferred out of the Navy halfway through the year, and no one seemed rushed to get you a new one.

Eli stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as you took the tie from him and tried to make sense of it.

"Thrawn was no help?" you asked just to fill the silence between you.

"He's been out all afternoon. Somethin' about preparing for tonight." He rolled his eyes. "And I don't think he meant it the way you and I are."

"Yeah," you said quietly, finally getting the tie around his neck and under the collar of his crisp white shirt. "He's obsessed with this plan."

"I would be, too, if my grades were on the line."

You nodded. You understood, but that didn't mean you had to like it.

Eli seemed to sense your low spirits. "You okay? I thought you'd be more excited about all this."

"I was... I am." You caught Eli's disbelieving look and sighed. "I don't know. It's just... we're not going so we can have fun. We have a mission. And Thrawn doesn't seem the type to want to dance all night. So... I guess I'm just resetting my expectations."

He gave a little laugh and for some reason you could start to feel your heart beating. That was odd. "You never know, Thrawn could surprise you and whisk you right off your feet."

You only glanced at him pointedly before continuing to fumble with the tie. You'd looped it around a couple different ways but nothing seemed right. You finally huffed and let the material fall against his chest.

"I give up. This isn't as easy as I thought it'd be. Sorry."

Eli shrugged as he pulled it from around his neck and rolled it in his hands. "Eh, it was worth a shot. I can go without it, right?"

He held his hands on his hips and did a playful little pose which made you laugh for the first time all day.

"Yeah, you look..." you hesitated, suddenly conscious of the fact that you found him incredibly good looking in this moment, but that you absolutely did not want to admit it. Eli was your friend. And this was just a dance. There was no reason to get sentimental about any of it. 

"You look good," you finally settled on saying, getting the words out quickly and turning around to pretend you were cleaning up your desk, so the compliment wouldn't seem like it was more than it was.

"Sure beats those wrinkly uniforms we always have to wear."

You couldn't help but look back at him over your shoulder. "Um, excuse me, but my uniforms are perfectly wrinkle-free. You know, because I actually do my laundry...."

"Oh, excuse you," he said dramatically, "but so do I. And they still look like shit."

"Must be that Wild Space curse you have," you laughed. "Forever doomed to look like a nerf herder."

"Wow, you really know how to flatter a guy, don't you."

"I said you looked good!"

"Yeah, yeah..." He didn't keep up the banter, having noticed your mirror and now self-consciously checking himself in it. Now you felt bad for the nerf-herder comment. You'd really meant it as a joke, but you couldn't exactly explain that his scruffiness actually made him attractive, not without making things really weird.

"Well, I better get goin'. I told Sadie I'd meet her there at six." He stopped fussing over his shirt and looked at you. "Comin' with?"

You shook your head, trying to ignore how casually he referred to his date, as if Sadie was someone he'd already been with for a while. "No, Thrawn said he'd come by for me. Should be soon."

"Alright," he shrugged and started heading for the door. You followed and definitely did not cast a few glances at his rear end. He paused in the doorway, looking back at you with a sincere smile. "And hey, how about I reserve a dance with you? In case Mr. Serious doesn't ask. I'll make sure you have a good time."

"Deal," you smiled back.

You let your back fall against the closed door, shutting your eyes in an attempt to steady your breathing. You couldn't believe you had acted like that. Your friend puts on a nice suit and suddenly you're into him? You're such an idiot, you told yourself.

A knock on the door made you startle out of your inner lecture. You turned to open it and found your date on the other side.

"Good evening," Thrawn said courteously, holding out a blue hand. You panicked, not realizing it was already time. Eli had really distracted you.

"Shit! Sorry, one sec!" you called over your shoulder at him as you rushed back into your room. "I need shoes!"

Thrawn was patient as he waited for you to finish getting ready and finally joined him in the hall. You didn't like feeling this frazzled. You had given yourself plenty of time to prepare just so you wouldn't have to rush and make the evening worse than it would probably be.

"Is everything alright?" Thrawn asked, naturally picking up on your mood. You avoided his discerning gaze, not wanting to encourage him to ask too many questions.

"Yeah, sorry, just lost track of time."

"I see," was all he said, thankfully. He turned to align himself next to you and held out an arm, which was clad in a very nice white suit. You briefly wondered if he had looked into these gentlemanly customs or if they were similar to Chiss culture.

You looped your hand through and lightly rested it on his arm, allowing him to lead you toward the gala.

"Eli said you disappeared this afternoon," you said, trying to find something to get your mind off the thoughts you'd had earlier. Maybe it would end up being a good thing, having this plan to focus on for the night. Maybe it wouldn't be fun, but at least it gave you something other than your suddenly confusing feelings to think about.

"I did not disappear," he said plainly, not quite understanding the figure of speech. "I was merely putting a few final details in place for the evening."

"Such as...?" You knew it was futile to ask but you tried anyway.

"You will see soon enough," he answered as predicted.

You nodded and continued the walk in silence. This would surely be an interesting evening, if nothing else.

Next Chapter: The Party >

Blueberry Path | Thrawn x reader

Cowboy Path | Eli x reader

[transxfiles]

Molly lumberjanes! or, alternatively, Shaggy :)

Both is good :D!!

For Molly, 

Sexuality Headcanon: [THINKS ABT CANON ‘MAL AND MOLLY ARE LESBIANS’] Molly Lesbian :)

OTP: Mally... (Diane/Molly also good...)

NOTP: Hhhhhhh cannot think of one LJ fandom is SMALL.

BROTP: I need!! To see!! More Jo!! And Molly!! Interacting!! Also Ripley and Molly are Bubbles Bros they basically coparent that little raccoon I love the vibes.

First Headcanon That Pops Into My Head: Every time I think Molly headcanon now I am literally always thinking abt Finch’s Annoying Older Sibling Molly. She is the annoying older sibling of the Roanoke cabin I swear it’s true. ALSO!! Nonbinary she/they Molly. 

Favorite Line From This Character: Okay so I CANNOT remember the exact line and I don’t have the energy to grab my comics now but I think when Artemis/Diane and Apollo are fighting she’s like “This is not at all how it when down in my Greek Mythology fanfic” or something like that and damn that’s just iconic, really. 

One Way I Relate To This Character: I too experienced my true Lesbian Awakening at summer camp <3

Thing That Gives Me Secondhand Embarrassment About This Character: Nothing LJ is pretty empty of secondhand embarrassment now that I'm really thinking abt it. 

Cinnamon Roll or Problematic Fave?: Well she is clearly a Cinnamon Roll but if fandom grows due to an influx of fans drawn in by the new HBO Max show that’s gonna come out soon she might end up becoming fanon’d into a problematic fave so stay tuned for that!! /hj

Now Shaggy time...

Sexuality Headcanon: Ohhh this guy is the Schrodinger’s Cat of sexualities I truly have no clue. Like I think he would date Fred. Like he’d be up for that. Same with Daphne. Clearly same with Crystal. But a label?? Bro who knows. He might ID as queer. 

OTP: Shaggy/Crystal... GIVE HIM BACK HIS ALIEN GF

BROTP: Scooby, clearly... however the Daphne and Shaggy dynamic is immaculate 13 ghosts cemented that much in my mind when I was young and impressionable. 

NOTP: HATE IT WHEN PPL SHIP HIM WITH VELMA PLS STOP. SHE IS A LESBIAN. 

First Headcanon That Pops Into My Head: Shaggy is a nonbinary dude who uses he/him pronouns and also he can see ghosts <3 that is what I have to say. 

Favorite Line From This Character: The first line he says ever in Scooby Doo canon, the pun he makes in “What A Night For A Knight!” that’s like “Looks like he went out for the night!” and then he and Scoob laugh... BEAUTIFUL. 

One Way I Relate To This Character: Like Shaggy I often find myself both physically and emotionally separated from the rest of the friend group and left to encounter ghosts on my own </3

Thing That Gives Me Secondhand Embarrassment About This Character: All of Season 1 SDMI. That’s it that’s all I have to say. 

Cinnamon Roll or Problematic Fave?: Literally Cinnamon Roll what.

(Send me a character and I’ll answer these!!)

[jjofalltrades]

ARYA x GENDRY WEEK : Family Traditions

@aryaxgendryweek

Thank You - 

According to school gossip, the new student was from Flea Bottom, who gained enrollment through a scholarship. People whispered about the patches on his uniform trousers and his shaggy black hair. Mr. Lannister placed him in the seat next to her when Joffrey complained about the smell. The first thing she noticed was the stitch on his blue blazer because it was a slightly different shade. The old lion had it out for the boy, scrutinizing him for being ill-prepared for his first day. It was a crime; one punishable had the teacher been a peer. No one appeared keen on interfering until she scooted closer and offered they share her textbook.

At the end of class, Arya handed him the book to take home for the night. Reluctant, he stared between her and it. As if it were a trick, he snatched the book and then rushed out. With his head bowed, he charged into the crowded hallway, much like a frightened bull. The other students rushed to move out of his way to make room, wasting more time on gossip.

They ran―well, she ran―into one another in the same hallway the next morning. The group of girls behind her scattered the moment his nostrils flared. When they were alone, he shoved the book at her, nodded, then stormed off in the opposite direction. The brunette thought him peculiar until a piece of paper stole her attention. Curious, Arya pulled the torn newspaper clipping and unfolded it to find broad, bold strokes written over the parchment.

Thank You

"Arya," she announced before class the same day. The new boy glanced around in question, which made her giggle. "Yes, you. I figured if we're going to be study partners this semester, we should at least get introductions out of the way, don't you think?" She held out a hand. "I'm Arya, and you are...?"

He swallowed with some difficulty, staring at her hand as if it was some foreign alien object. When he did lift his gaze to her face, a pair of the bluest eyes she'd ever seen. That was saying something given the Tully genes among her siblings. "Gendry," the boy whispered and cautiously shook her hand.

"Welcome to King's Landing Prep, Gendry."

Arya placed the textbook at the edge of his desk to share again today.  She only let go of his hand once she slid in the seat next to him, deciding not to push her luck too soon.

Check Yes or No - 

Every day of school for the last two years, Arya and Gendry made it a habit to pass notes between classes. It was an easy and simple way to brighten the other's mood or keep up-to-date with what happened throughout the day. Sophmore prom was around the corner, and she knew exactly how she wanted to ask her best friend. If they waited for Gendry to make a move, they'd be stuck in the friendzone until one of them died. Besides, modern problems required modern solutions, and she wasn't afraid to flip the tables on proper social etiquette.

Since they didn't share a lunch period this semester, she bribed one of the lunch ladies to slip the invitation on his tray with his favorite sandwiches. He would have a few hours to process the request and have a response by Chemistry. Though, a public romantic gesture by their lockers before then wouldn't be a bad idea, either. But, of course, Gendry was not one for anything that would draw attention.

A bundle of nerves followed Arya throughout the day until he quietly sat beside her at the lab table. Not a single word was spoken, no note, no sign. She wasn't the type to doubt her actions, but he didn't even acknowledge her! That had to be a bad sign, right? When the bell dismissed them, her shoulders sagged in disappointment. Gendry slid his textbook in front of her, half of the invitation stuck out. Excitedly, Arya ripped the invitation open. Neither option had a mark as expected; yet, he had added choices of his own at the bottom.

Prom? Check Yes or No

Friends or Couple?

She glanced up at him to see that he was every bit as nervous. Arya pulled out a red pen and circled the second choice with a dramatic twirl. The tips of Gendry's ears burned red, and he tried to contain the smile from reading her response. He leaned forward, taking the red pen, and added a checkmark on top of the first choice above. After, he gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and tried to run off.

"Excuse you," she caught the tail of his blazer and tugged him back. Her new boyfriend swung around, confused by the offense. Arya grinned, stood on tiptoes, and pecked him on the cheek. Heat spread from his ears down to his cheeks. "Walk your girlfriend to the next class?"

Gendry's smile broke from its usual tight-lip style, the corner of his eyes and mouth crinkling. He was a handsome brood, but she decided this was her favorite expression. Their fingers entwined, and together they became the school's latest and hottest gossip.

Marry Me - 

"Ah, this is where you ran off," a pair of strong arms wrapped around her middle. The sudden heat kept the chilly air at bay while they stood on the empty balcony. "Isn't there a rule against the guest of honor disappearing during their party?"

The music and laughter from the large crowd continued despite Arya's presence. Now that the speeches were over and the cake cut, no one cared. Let them drink, dance, and be merry. She mustered enough energy to caress his exposed forearms where he'd rolled the sleeves to his black dress shirt. "Our party," she corrected and leaned into his chest with a heavy sigh. "Exhausted, to be honest. Should have known mother had something planned. Had I known, I'd have skipped town after the graduation ceremony."

"We'd have skipped town," Gendry squeezed gently. "No way in all seven hells I would survive this much attention without you."

She smirked. "You've gotten better. Everyone enjoyed your speech today. It looked like your mother cried."

"That's cause she got the university's latest bill," he chuckled until she elbowed him. Gendry kissed her shoulder. "Nah, mum's happy for me."

It was no secret that many people doubted the boy from Flea Bottom for the past decade. Determination and wits helped him prove them wrong. Arya turned in his hold and wrapped her arms around his neck. She raised on her tiptoes. "I am, too, you know. Proud of you."

He held her close, lifting her just barely off the ground to make the innocent kisses more comfortable. Something might have started between them if she hadn't groaned. Scared that he hurt her, Gendry pulled away.

"I was thinking of all those gifts we'll have to try and fit into our apartment," Arya almost whined.

Gendry relaxed and pressed his lips to her forehead. "You haven't even opened mine yet."

She lightly slapped at his chest. "We said no presents!"

"Well, I already had this one. Tough luck."

From behind his back, he revealed a rectangular box wrapped in an old newspaper. "Where did you have that hiding." she ignored it for a moment to lean in and investigate how he could've hidden anything for that long. He rolled his eyes and swatted her away.

"Just open the damn thing."

Arya eyed him suspiciously, then eagerly ripping the paper. "I remember the first note you gave me in high school," she giggled and handed him the loose paper. "Mr. Lannister's textbook? What-" Something stuck out from the pages of the book.

When she went to open it rather carelessly, an item dropped out from the middle. Gendry bent to capture it before it touched the ground. Arya's attention went back to the folded piece of paper and opened it to reveal one last question.

Marry Me?

Tears prickled her eyes as she gazed beyond the book to see Gendry still on his knee. The item in his hand a ring for her."I meant to propose two years ago, but then you suggested we go for our Master's Degree. We promised no big decisions until...and then we..." He started to trip over his words again as he used to when they were teenagers. "I love you," this time with more conviction. "I've loved you for as long as I can remember. There isn't a whole lot I'm certain about in life, except for you. Marry M-"

Book forgotten, Arya lept into him until the momentum pushed them to the ground. She began to pepper Gendry with kisses, punctuated by a tearful "yes" for each one.

Grandma - 

This year for the holidays, the couple knew exactly how to break the news to their families. Each mother received a blank scrapbook with materials to fill the pages as time passed. As mothers were when older, both smiled gratefully at the gifts and started to set them aside. However, Gendry cleared his throat.

"We have the first page complete," Arya told them and gestured to the yellow and grey books.

Cat and Maria glanced at one another, curious to see if the other had any clue. They opened the cover and stared down. The room fell silent as those around them tried to sneak a peek at it. Cat gasped and reached for Maria's hand, then the screaming began.

The couple separated long enough to be congratulated by their family members. Rickon, who had not caught on to the excitement, picked up his mother's scrapbook.

Grandma

Below the colorful title was the ultrasound picture. His mouth formed an 'O' shape.

Good Morning, Mommy. Good Night, Daddy - 

Elyana wrote her parents a note every day since she was old enough to hold a crayon. The tradition started because of her dad, who wrote to her mom while she slept. They had opposite work schedules in the early years, using what methods they could to make the distance more manageable. Dad would wake up with Elyana in the morning and got them ready for the day. Their notes were placed in mom's lunchbox in the fridge. At night, before mom went to work, and dad came home, the girls would return the gesture.

Good Morning, Mommy. Good Night, Daddy.

Even when their schedules changed again, and they were allowed to be a family more than the weekends or holidays, her letters addressed them the same. It was tradition, after all. Something familiar and safe to start and end the day. But what she was most fond of was lunchtime at school, when she would open her bag and spot letters of her own. Words of encouragement, affirmations, and promises Elyana knew they'd keep.

"Did you hear about the new student?"  Her friend, Joy, leaned in and pointed across the cafeteria. "Heard they're here on scholarship."

[aion-rsa]

The Star Trek: The Original Series Episodes That Best Define the Franchise

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

By the time my generation got to watch Star Trek: The Original Series, the episodes often were being presented in top-ten marathons. When I was ten-years-old, for the 25th Anniversary of Star Trek, I tape-recorded a marathon of ten episodes that had all been voted by fans as the best-ever installments of The Original Series. Later, I got lucky and found Trek stickers at the grocery store and was able to label my VHS tapes correctly. But do I think all the episodes that were in that marathon back in 1991 were really the best episodes of all of the classic Star Trek? The short answer: no. Although I love nearly every episode of the first 79 installments of Star Trek, I do think that certain lists have been created by what we think should be on the list rather than what episodes really best represent the classic show. 

This is a long-winded way of saying, no, I didn’t include “Amok Time” or “The Menagerie” on this list because, as great as they are, I don’t think they really represent the greatest hits of the series. Also, if you’ve never watched TOS, I think those two episodes will throw you off cause you’ll assume Spock is always losing his mind or trying to steal the ship. If you’ve never watched TOS, or you feel like rewatching it with fresh eyes, I feel pretty strong that these 10 episodes are not only wonderful, but that they best represent what the entire series is really about. Given this metric, my choice for the best episode of TOS may surprise you…

10. “The Man Trap” 

The first Star Trek ever episode aired should not be the first episode you watch. And yet, you should watch it at some point. The goofy premise concerns an alien with shaggy dog fur, suckers on its hand, and a face like a terrifying deep-sea fish. This alien is also a salt vampire that uses telepathy that effectively also makes it a shapeshifter. It’s all so specifically bonkers that trying to rip-off this trope would be nuts. Written by science fiction legend George Clayton Johnson (one half of Logan’s Run authorship) “The Man Trap” still slaps, and not because Spock (Leonard Nimoy)  tries to slap the alien. Back in the early Season 1 episodes of Star Trek, the “supporting” players like Uhura and Sulu are actually doing stuff in the episode. We all talk about Kirk crying out in pain when the M-113 creature puts those suckers on his face, but the real scene to watch is when Uhura starts speaking Swahili. The casual way Uhura and Sulu are just their lovable selves in this episode is part of why we just can’t quit the classic Star Trek to this day. Plus, the fact that the story is technically centered on Bones gives the episode some gravitas and oomph. You will believe an old country doctor thinks that salt vampire is Nancy! (Spoiler alert: It’s not Nancy.)

9. “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield” 

There are two episodes everyone always likes to bring up when discussing the ways in which Star Trek changed the game for the better in pop culture’s discourse on racism: “Plato’s Stepchildren” and this episode, “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield.” The former episode is famous because Kirk and Uhura kiss, which is sometimes considered the first interracial kiss on an American TV show. (British TV shows had a few of those before Star Trek, though.) But “Plato’s Stepchildren” is not a great episode, and Kirk and Uhura were also manipulated to kiss by telepaths. So, no, I’m not crazy about “Plato’s Stepchildren.” Uhura being forced to kiss a white dude isn’t great.

But “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield,” oddly holds up. Yep. This is the one about space racism where the Riddler from the ‘60s Batman (Frank Gorshin) looks like a black-and-white cookie. Is this episode cheesy? Is it hard to take most of it seriously? Is it weird that Bele (Frank Gorshin) didn’t have a spaceship because the budget was so low at that time? Yes. Is the entire episode dated, and sometimes borderline offensive even though its heart is in the right place? Yes. Does the ending of the episode still work? You bet it does. If you’re going to watch OG Star Trek and skip this episode, you’re kind of missing out on just how charmingly heavy-handed the series could get. “Let that Be Your Last Battlefield” is like a ‘60s after-school special about racism, but they were high while they were writing it.

8. “Arena”

You’re gonna try to list the best episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series and not list the episode where Kirk fights a lizard wearing gold dress-tunic? The most amazing thing about “Arena” is that it’s a Season 1 episode of The Original Series and somehow everyone involved in making TOS had enough restraint not to ever try to use this Gorn costume again. They didn’t throw it away either! This famous rubber lizard was built by Wah Chang and is currently owned by none other than Ben Stiller.

So, here’s the thing about “Arena” that makes it a great episode of Star Trek, or any TV series with a lizard person. Kirk refuses to kill the Gorn even though he could have, and Star Trek refused to put a lizard costume in a bunch of episodes later, even though they totally could have. Gold stars all around.

7. “Balance of Terror”

The fact that Star Trek managed to introduce a race of aliens that looked exactly like Spock, and not confuse its viewership is amazing. On top of that, the fact that this detail isn’t exactly the entire focus of the episode is equally impressive. The notion that the Romulans look like Vulcans is a great twist in The Original Series, and decades upon decades of seeing Romulans has probably dulled the novelty ever so slightly. But, the idea that there was a brutally cold and efficient version of the Vulcans flying around in invisible ships blowing shit up is not only cool, but smart.

“Balance of Terror” made the Romulans the best villains of Star Trek because their villainy felt personal. Most Romulan stories in TNG, DS9, and Picard are pretty damn good and they all start right here.

6. “Space Seed”

Khaaaan!!!! Although The Wrath of Khan is infinitely more famous than the episode from which it came, “Space Seed” is one of the best episodes of The Original Series even if it hadn’t been the progenitor of that famous film. In this episode, the worst human villain the Enterprise can encounter doesn’t come from the present, but instead, the past. Even though “Space Seed” isn’t considered a very thoughtful episode and Khan is a straight-up gaslighter, the larger point here is that Khan’s evilness is connected to the fact that he lived on a version of Earth closer to our own.

The episode’s coda is also amazing and speaks of just how interesting Captain Kirk really is. After Khan beat the shit out of him and tried to suffocate the entire Enterprise crew, Kirk’s like “Yeah, this guy just needs a long camping trip.” 

5. “A Piece of the Action”

A few years back, Saturday Night Live did a Star Trek sketch in which it was revealed that Spock had a relative named “Spocko.” This sketch was tragically unfunny because TOS had already made the “Spocko” joke a million times better in “A Piece of the Action.” When you describe the premise of this episode to someone who has never seen it or even heard of it, it sounds like you’re making it up. Kirk, Spock, and Bones are tasked with cleaning-up a planet full of old-timey mobsters who use phrases like “put the bag on you.” Not only is the episode hilarious, but it also demonstrates the range of what Star Trek can do as an emerging type of pop-art. In “A Piece of the Action,” Star Trek begins asking questions about genres that nobody ever dreamed of before. Such as, “what if we did an old-timey gangster movie, but there’s a spaceship involved?”

4. “Devil in the Dark”

When I was a kid, my sister and I called this episode, “the one with giant pizza.” Today, it’s one of those episodes of Star Trek that people tell you defines the entire franchise. They’re not wrong, particularly because we’re just talking about The Original Series. The legacy of this episode is beyond brilliant and set-up a wonderful tradition within the rest of the franchise; a monster story is almost never a monster story

The ending of this episode is so good, and Leonard Nimoy and Shatner play the final scenes so well that I’m actually not sure it’s cool to reveal what the big twist is. If you somehow don’t know, I’ll just say this. You can’t imagine Chris Pratt’s friendly Velicrapotrs, or Ripper on Discovery without the Horta getting their first.

3. “The Corbomite Maneuver” 

If there’s one episode on this list that truly represents what Star Trek is usually all about on a plot level, it’s this one. After the first two pilot episodes —“Where No Man Has Gone Before” and “The Cage”—this was the first regular episode filmed. It’s the first episode with Uhura and, in almost every single way, a great way to actually explain who all these characters are and what the hell they’re doing. The episode begins with Spock saying something is “fascinating” and then, after the opening credits, calling Kirk, who is down in sickbay with his shirt off. Bones gives Kirk shit about not having done his physical in a while, and Kirk wanders through the halls of the episode without his shirt, just kind of holding his boots. 

That’s just the first like 5 minutes. It just gets better and better from there. Like a good bottle of tranya, this episode only improves with time. And if you think it’s cheesy and the big reveal bizarre, then I’m going to say, you’re not going to like the rest of Star Trek. 

2. “The City on the Edge of Forever”

No more blah blah blah! Sorry, wrong episode. Still, you’ve heard about “The City on the Edge of Forever.” You’ve heard it’s a great time travel episode. You’ve heard Harlan Ellison was pissed about how the script turned out. You heard that Ron Moore really wanted to bring back Edith Keeler for Star Trek Generations. (Okay, maybe you haven’t heard that, but he did.)

Everything you’ve heard about this episode is correct. There’s some stuff that will make any sensible person roll their eyes today, but the overall feeling of this episode is unparalleled. Time travel stories are always popular, but Star Trek has never really done a time travel story this good ever again. The edge of forever will always be just out of reach.

1. “A Taste of Armageddon”

Plot twist! This excellent episode of TOS almost never makes it on top ten lists. Until now! If you blink, “A Taste of Armageddon” could resemble at least a dozen other episodes of TOS. Kirk and Spock are trapped without their communicators. The crew has to overpower some guards to get to some central computer hub and blow it up. Scotty is in command with Kirk on the surface and is just kind of scowling the whole time. Kirk is giving big speeches about how humanity is great because it’s so deeply flawed.

What makes this episode fantastic is that all of these elements come together thanks to a simplistic science fiction premise: What if a society eliminated violence but retained murder? What if hatred was still encouraged, but war was automated? Star Trek’s best moments were often direct allegories about things that were actually happening, but what makes “A Taste of Armageddon” so great is that this metaphor reached for something that could happen. Kirk’s solution to this problem is a non-solution, which makes the episode even better. At its best classic Star Trek wasn’t just presenting a social problem and then telling us how to fix it. Sometimes it was saying something more interesting — what if the problem gets even harder? What do we do then? 

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

The humor and bombast of “A Taste of Armageddon” is part of the answer to that unspoken question, but there’s also a clever lesson about making smaller philosophical decisions. In Star Wars, people are always trying to rid themselves of the dark side of the Force. In Star Trek, Kirk just teaches us to say, “Hey I won’t be a terrible person, today” and then just see how many days we can go in a row being like that.

What do you think are the most franchise-defining episodes of Star Trek: The Original Series? Let us know in the comments below.

The post The Star Trek: The Original Series Episodes That Best Define the Franchise appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3qfxnii

[the-officially-kat]

Scooby doo pwease??

Bless you for actually asking xD

(some of the info below is already canon in at least one already existing version of scooby doo, which I got from both memory and their character wiki pages)

Fred, Daphne and Shaggy are all 16-years-old

Velma is 15 but she skipped a grade

Shaggy has had Scooby since he was 6

It takes place in the og spot: Coolsville

Norville “Shaggy” Rogers: pan, actually pretty decent in gym class and is the star of the track team, collects decorator belt buckles and hangs them on his bedroom wall

Daphne Blake: bi, is never one to turn down a dare and/or challenge, has been into the supernatural since she was little

Velma Dinkley: lesbian, cryptids are her favourite, “be gay, do crimes”

Frederick “Fred” Jones: bi, himbo, must be watched at all times so he doesn’t create an insane trap for no reason

Daphne and Velma are the only ones who can watch horror movies (Fred might be able to but he'll have nightmares for weeks, and Shaggy and Scooby are obviously terrified) so if a new horror movie is playing at the cinema they'll make it a girl's night

Shaggy and Daphne have known each other since they were babies because their parents have been friends since high school

Shaggy and Daphne's families are both wealthy so they also run in the same social crowds (though it's definitely forced by their parents)

The whole gang are not friendly with the Coolsville police force and vice versa

Velma's mom is dating Fred's dad

Velma has a younger brother

Daphne has four older sisters

The Hex Girls are a popular goth band that Daphne and Velma adore

Daphne and Fred are strictly friends (I have very specific shipping tastes when it comes to scooby doo and frankly I think that Daphne x Fred is boring)

Velma and Shaggy talk about aliens a lot

For the actual story, which is a really vague idea:

I really love what the animated movies (Zombie Island, Witch’s Ghost, Alien Invaders, and Cyber Chase) did by bringing in a supernatural element and I really want to try that

I’m thinking it might start on Halloween????? I’m not sure yet

[surveyhoursss]

98.

Prep

I shop at Abercrombie, Hollister, American Eagle, or Aerospatiale.

I am/was a cheerleader.

I'm pretty ditzy.

I wear pink 24/7.

My looks are very important to me.

I can't live without my cell phone.

My hair is always straight.

I say 'like' and 'omigod' a lot.

I laugh 24/7.

I have a million friends.

I always hang at the mall or movies.

I'll only date popular guys.

I listen to rap & pop music.

I have at least one designer bag.

My myspace pics are of me making a kissy face or are mirror pics

It takes me at least an hour to get ready for school in the mornings.

Uggs + Miniskirts = Love

I don't have a job

I wear lots of makeup. (wouldn’t call it lots, though)

I can be stuck up or snobby sometimes.

I flirt with any guy, as long as he's cute.

Total = 5

EMO

I cry a lot.

I go to local shows.

I wear black everyday (typically I always have something black on)

I write sad poetry.

I play an acoustic guitar.

My favorite bands include: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance, or Panic! at the Disco.

I think about suicide or death often.

People have told me to cheer up.

I cry when I see dead animals.

My myspace/Facebook pics are black or white or angled.

I wear many band shirts.

No one understands me.

I don't talk too often.

I look down when I walk.

I wear black eyeliner.

I have an ex I still cry over.

My hair is black

My hair covers one of my eyes.

I always say 'life sucks'.

Total: 4

NERD

I have straight A's.

I wear glasses.

I always do my homework and study.

Lord of the Rings was a massive achievement.

Computer games.

I'm 'teachers pet'.

I've never had a real boyfriend/girlfriend.

I have a bedtime.

I use an asthma inhaler.

I carry a calculator with me.

I bring my lunch to school.

I always follow the rules.

I'm shy around the opposite sex.

I'm always on the computer.

I've never had beer or cigarettes.

I always answer every question in class right.

I correct people's grammar.

I read a lot.

School is very important to me.

I always stump people.

Total: 8

REBEL

I always speak my mind.

I have 0% of school spirit.

F*ck you, I won't do what you tell me!

I stand up for what I think is right.

On spirit days at school, I wear the rival's colors.

Whenever people are doing something, I do the complete opposite.

I won't listen to authority figures.

I always break the rules.

I refuse to compromise.

I'm always arguing with people.

I love debate.

I always do what's unexpected of me.

I don't give a sh*t what people think of me.

If I watch a cruddy movie in theaters, right after it's over, I'll say 'that sucked'.

I'm not afraid to contradict others.

I only respect my own beliefs.

If I don't want to do something, I won't do it, no matter what.

I laugh at compromising people.

I cheer on the rival's sport team to stand out.

Rules were meant to be broken.

Total: 1

JOCK

I'm on one or more sport teams.

I always wear my varsity jacket.

I've won awards for my athletic ability.

I will only date popular girls/guys.

School Spirit

I'm going to a college for sports

I watch sports on TV all the time

I'm muscular.

I play sports or exercise at least 3 hours a day.

Go Team!

I'm a chick/dude magnet.

I eat a lot.

I'm egotistical.

I'm too focused on sports to make really good grades.

I sit at the jock lunch table.

All I talk about with my friends is sports.

I go to lots of sports games.

I'm very athletic

I wear sport inspired clothing.

play at least 3 different sports.

Total: 4

COMEDIAN

I'm funny.

I'm always making jokes.

I interrupt class by making people laugh.

I like to entertain people.

I worship Kevin Smith.

I watch comedies more than anything.

I also watch SNL and Mad TV a lot

I'm sarcastic.

I've been told I'm hilarious.

I always imitate people.

I pull lots of pranks.

I always make sarcastic remarks after everything.

I have to prove myself by being funny.

People expect me to make jokes, always.

I have a lot of pressure to make everyone laugh.

If I don't make jokes, people ask me what's wrong.

Jim Carrey is my idol.

I mostly get along with everybody.

At pep rallies, I'm the one acting crazy and silly.

My teachers or parents tell me I need to focus more on work and less on joking around.

Total: 3

SHY

I don't have a lot of friends.

I don't talk too much.

It's not that I'm snobby, I just get nervous when talking to people.

When people say my name, others say 'who?'

I'm pretty sure mostly no one knows who I am.

People have told me I need to talk more.

I only talk when other people talk to me first

I look down when I walk.

I avoid social gatherings, such as games, dances, or parties.

People have tried to help me be more outgoing, but it never works.

I always plan to talk to more people, but I never do.

I sit in the back of the classroom.

I never participate in class discussions.

I hide behind people to avoid being seen sometimes.

I could never be a cashier, talking to strangers.

I talk quietly.

People have called me shy or quiet.

I usually let others decide for me.

If someone is talking about my favorite book or movie in front of me, I don't join in the conversation.

Total: 12

GOTHIC

I wear black.

I don't like to be seen.

I'm very, very pale.

I only listen to metal or emo-ish music. (neither of these is goth, mallgoths XD)

I love creepy, weird movies.

I love gothic cartoons and drawings.

I don't like people.

I only go out during the night.

I have black fingernails.

I wear a long black coat.

I also wear big black boots.

'The Crow' is one of my favorite movies.

I only date other Goths.

I love black humor.

I love pain.

People think I'm crazy.

I don't talk to anyone who isn't as deep as me.

I love to scare people

I laugh at teenyboppers.

People are scared of me.

Total: 3

WEIRDO

I talk to myself.

I say really random things all the time/have to say it out loud.

I fidget a lot.

I still use a wheeled backpack.

People laugh at me.

I walk really funny.

I have a very different sense of style.

I talk in a robot voice often.

I'll stop whatever I'm doing, and break out in a crazy dance if the mood strikes.

I debate stuff with myself.

I hear voices.

I'm obsessed with aliens and the other planets.

I have a fascination with robots and machinery.

I use really big words no one understands, and they give me weird looks.

I say random lines of babbling that make sense to no one but me.

I dart my eyes from side to side.

I always pretend I'm a robot or other weird non-human thing.

People have no idea why I think the way I do.

I have some very unusual, extraordinary talents.

When people ask me if I like something that's trendy, I pretend to be scared or confused.

Total: 3

ANTISOCIAL

I hate/dislike most people.

I prefer to be alone.

When people talk to me, I just give them a death glare.

Actually, most people don't talk to me.

People are freaking idiots and I wish they'd all die.

I live in my room, writing in my diary. On the computer...

I go out my way to avoid everyone.

I never greet anyone.

I despise people who talk too loudly.

I want people to think I'm a freak.

I never talk.

I can't wait to get off this earth.

I always sit by myself at lunch or anywhere else.

I listen to music on full blast on my ipod/mp4 player/headphones to block out the world.

I don't know why I am the way I am.

People have said I'm antisocial.

I use drugs or alcohol to escape the loneliness.

Why bother when people don't like you anyways?

I occupy myself so it won't look like I'm a loner.

I just don't get along with anyone.

Total: 1

SKATER

I skateboard to everywhere.

If I'm not skateboarding, I carry it with me.

I shop at Pacsun.

I'm obsessed with Tony Hawk.

Oh yeah, and Bam Margera.

I always play skateboarding video games.

I have shaggy hair.

I wear baggy pants.

I wear only skater shoes.

I always wear hoodies. (well, much of the time)

I hang at skate parks 24/7.

I'm always learning new board tricks.

Forget school, I want to be a professional skateboarder.

I've been skateboarding for over 4 years.

I hang with other skaters.

I've been hurt while skateboarding.

I've been in a skateboarding competition.

I wear vans.

Tony Hawks games win.

I've met some of my closest friends at skate parks.

Total: 0

GANGSTER/HOOD

I say 'yo'.

I also say 'fo shizzle'.

I wear extremely baggy pants.

Mah chainz hang low.

I hang with my homies, biotches, and Hoe's

I'm a thug.

I only listen to rap music.

50 Cent is my idol.

I don't give a frick about school.

I steal/have stolen before (as a child lol)

I freestyle.

I breakdance.

Gold chainz is tha way to go, biotch.

I'm white but I act black.

All my heroes are dead rappers.

Tupac is still alive.

I party with all my nigs.

I wear a sideways baseball cap.

I wear hoodies.

I wear converse with the tongue flipped out.

Total: 2

BULLY

I always steal people's lunch money.

Geeks are afraid of me.

I get in trouble all the time.

I steal people's stuff to be an a**hole.

People have called me a bully.

I have beat someone up before.

I'm always looking for a fight.

I pick on people smaller than me.

I push people out of the way when I'm walking.

I've never been in a relationship before.

People are afraid of me.

People know not to mess with me.

I'm taller than most people my age.

I pick on people for the fun of it.

I make fun of everything anyone else likes.

If anyone crosses my path, they're dead.

People know not to try and stick up for themselves when I'm around.

I'm one of the strongest kids in school.

Even some authority figures are afraid of me.

People get out of my way when I'm walking.

Total: 0

GAMER

I own at least 2 different video game consoles.

I love Final Fantasy.

DDR & Guitar Hero

I've missed school before because I was trying to beat a video game.

I'm always trying to beat high scores on games.

I even play a lot of computer games.

I play at least 3 hours of video games a day.

My thumbs are sore often.

I spend all my money on new video games.

My boyfriend/girlfriend has to be into video games.

All I talk about is video games.

I've been in a video game competition before

I pay over 30$ a month in online games.

I have bought more than 5 accessories for my console

I know about more than 10 cheats and mods in the game I play most.

I have played at least a complete week in the game I like most.

I wouldn't know what to do in an afternoon without electricity.

My parents often tell the internet is broken or simply disconnect it so I don't spend whole weekends and holidays playing.

I have more than one online account on the same game.

Total: 2

GIRLY

I have long hair.

I wear make up every day.

I carry a purse.

I have to get someone else to come kill a spider.

I paint my nails.

I use perfume.

I keep my nails clean/shaped

I shower regularly

I used to or still do Dance, Gymnastics, or Cheer/Pom

I like to accessorize

I like flowers.

I don't like to be outdoors.

I'm more like my mother than my father.

I like hanging out with girls than boys.

I like going to the mall/shopping.

I watch my weight/ count calories.

I plan outfits ahead of time

People say I have a soft/sweet voice.

I dream about and am already planning my wedding day

I watch dramatic shows on tv, soap operas, reality TV, etc.

Total: 9

BOYISH

I have short hair.

I hate doing laundry.

I like war type video games.

I like playing or watching sports.

People say I have a deep voice.

I'm more like my dad than my mom.

I beat up or tease my younger siblings or friends.

I act tough, it doesn't matter what's going on inside me.

There's only two emotions.

I shower only when I start to notice I stink

I think about the opposite sex a lot.

My room isn't neat.

I bite my nails instead of using scissors/clippers.

My clothes don't match sometimes, but I don't notice or care

I like to play rough with dogs.

I like the movies 300, Transformers, The Dark Knight.

The best way to get the opposite sex to like you is to act like a jerk.

I don't read

I don't ask for help even if I need it.

Total: 3

scored highest on: Shy lmao

[xxiamaclichexx]

Fanfiction Year in Review

:Fanfiction Year In Review

Okay, so I wasn’t actually tagged for this but I keep seeing it circulate around on Tumblr and I just want to do this dammit, so here we go!

1. List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished

“Parallel Lives” - multi-chapter fic, started in 2019 and finished in January 2020, totaled out to be about 130,000 words “Written in the Stars” - one-shot Shelma fic, written and published in February 2020, 9,000+ words “Social Distancing” - one-shot based on the pandemic, written and posted in April 2020, about 9,000+ words “The Week After” - first one-shot in an ongoing series of one-shots, Fraphne, about 9,000+ words

2. Number of words written

Estimated about 100,000 words between published works (the end of “Parallel Lives” was about 20,000 words for 2020, plus all the one-shots, and then I wrote a good chunk of “Goose Lake,” which is a WIP”)

3. Your most popular fic

Definitely “Parallel Lives.” The last time I checked, which was about a month or so ago, it had 8,000 views. It also has the most reviews and the most favorites/follows.

4. Your personal favourite

Again, definitely “Parallel Lives.” I don’t think I’ll ever write anything that ambitious and that dark/captivating ever again. It was everything I’ve ever wanted in a Scooby Doo fic - adventure, mystery, tons of Fraphne, and suspense. I’m so proud of myself for that one.

5. Your fave scene

I think my favorite scene from 2020 is again from “Parallel Lives.” It’s from chapter 22, when my versions of Fred and Daphne run into the SDMI versions of themselves once again after having seen them much earlier in the fic, I think around chapter 9 and 10 (during the crybaby clown episode). However, this time, Fred and Daphne see their doppelgangers in the new timeline, the one that’s post Nibiru in SDMI. It was such a fun nod at my favorite series while also still playing up the multiverse concept that drove my entire fic, too. Plus, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to note how Scooby Doo had actually already utilized the multiverse canonically in that series. Moreover, I think this scene works so well because that’s the final world Fred and Daphne visit before they finally make it back and have the ultimate showdown with the multiverse versions of themselves in their home world.

6. A fic or scene that challenged you

Honestly, “Social Distancing” challenged me the most last year. I had not written anything at all in over two months, and I was really anxious and depressed with the pandemic and the passing of a loved one, so I wasn’t feeling productive at all. I was starting to worry I would never write again before I had the idea to write a Scooby inspired pandemic fic, and I figured it would be a cathartic way to rid myself of lingering anxiety since a lot of the emotions expressed were my own. I also thought it would be fun for readers to relate to their favorite characters in real time/real life circumstances. But once I had the idea, it took me three weeks to write it. I had a hard time shaking off the anxiety from the pandemic, and it was tough shaking off the rust and getting back into the groove of writing.

7. A line of writing you’re proud of From “The Case of the Goose Lake Monster,” chapter 6 (ongoing): "That was –" Daphne grapples with the right words to describe the experience."It was –" Fred is trying to help supply the correct words, but he's having such a difficult time as he stares at Daphne while explosions of warmth pop in his chest like fireworks."Beautiful," Fred finally sighs. But he isn't talking about the song or the tunnel.

8. A comment that touched you

Ugh, this is such a cop-out answer, but I honestly can’t just pick one :( I have some consistent reviewers that I love and cherish dearly, and I always appreciate every single one.

9. Something that inspired your writing

My weird obsession and love for Fraphne, I guess? Lmao

10. Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic etc.)

I think there are two: finishing “Parallel Lives,” which is the longest fic I have to date and had been a WIP going into 2020, and also I’m really proud of “Goose Lake,” which, while is a WIP, has easily become my second favorite fic. I never thought I would manage to write novel-length stories, and both of those fics are proving me wrong.

11. Do you have any writing goals for next year?

I have a few! - Finish writing “The Case of the Goose Lake Monster” by end of January or middle of February - Add to the one-shot series “The Week After” by including a request for a Shaggy/Crystal one-shot from Alien Invaders. I also want to add a Fraphne Witch’s Ghost fic, and possibly one from SDMI, as well. - Start writing the multi-chapter fic idea I have for a Zombie Island prequel, but that’s all I can say aside from the fact that it’ll be Fraphne heavy! That’s one I’ve been thinking of writing for years.

This was fun! I’m tagging @spongeaddict @scoobysurfers @thequeenxofhearts @complikated1 @glowstar826 @thosemeddlingsims and anyone else who wants to do this that I didn’t add! 

[spyder-m]

Shumako Week 2020, Day Five: Put Some Love Into It

@shumakoweek​ Day Five: Coffee / Cooking / Dinner Date.

AO3 / FF.net

Summary:  When her sister spoke fondly of the coffee sold by a shop in Yongen, Makoto felt compelled to try it. AU 

.

Makoto wasn't entirely sure what had brought her to the coffee shop in Yongen-jaya. The cafe had been out of her way, the complete opposite direction from both her apartment and the University campus. 

It seemed like a lot of effort to go to for something she could have just as easily bought from a vending machine, or one of the many chain stores dotted around the city.

Yet, hearing her older sister speak so fondly of the store's coffee had piqued her interest.

Sae was a perfectionist. For the coffee to have left such a good impression on her, it must have been of the highest quality.

Seeing as she rarely stopped by their apartment, perhaps Makoto had also hoped they might run into each other there.

Leblanc was tucked away in a narrow alley, boasting its own hustle and bustle unique from the sprawling metropolis. There were smatterings of children, families and pets, moving about between the local businesses.

Bells chimed as Makoto stepped through the front door, her body enveloped by warmth and the permeating scent of cigarettes and the store's many roasts.

It drew her eyes to the shelf lined with a variety of beans and spices. Makoto considered herself quite capable in the culinary department, yet she never realised there were so many different blends of coffee to choose from.

The range was rather overwhelming.

"Oh, welcome."

A middle-aged man stooping over the counter set down his newspaper to greet her. He stood beside a contraption made of numerous bulbs and clasps, appearing more like something out of a laboratory than any machine she’d seen in cafes.

"What can I get for you?"

"I- I'm not quite sure." Makoto answered, eyes drawn to the menu board. "There certainly is a lot to choose from."

"A newbie, huh?" The owner chuckled, before turning and setting to work. "Hold on. I can make you something I think you'll enjoy."

Hesitant, the strap of Makoto's bag slipped from her shoulder as she seated herself at the counter.

A black cat sauntered down the stairs with a stretch of its limbs and a long, deep meow, sniffing at her feet, curious. Makoto eyed the animal. For many businesses, its mere presence would be an obvious health violation.

Did Leblanc also double as a cat cafe?

"Here you are." The man called, Makoto's focus shifting back the counter-top as a steaming cup was placed before her.

"Oh, thank you."

Coffee was something Makoto had developed a taste for in high school; the caffeine helping her concentrate during long study sessions. While, over the years, she'd found a tolerance for the bitter nectar, it was never really something she savoured or choose to drink for any purpose other than necessity.

She was, by no means, a connoisseur.

Yet, the care shown to this particular blend was apparent to her from the moment it settled on her tongue. No sooner had the first sip of rich, brown liquid trickled down her throat, that Makoto was struck by a realisation.

She had never truly drunk coffee before. 

The city was crowded by people all in a hurry, rushing to make a train or their next meeting. They needed their coffee prepared as quickly as possible, the margin for quality wasn't quite as high.

Yet, in this shop, tucked away from the rush and demand, the owner had been afforded the time and luxury necessary to capture a roasts potential. Customers would wait patiently, sitting, engaged in relaxed conversation; almost an entirely different culture that Makoto had not been privy to.

Nursing her drink, Makoto began mentally mapping out alternate routes she could take to class; wondering if she could feasibly pass Leblanc on her way to University.

She would definitely be coming again.

.

The cafe provided a safe haven for Makoto when mid-terms rolled around.

Even having stayed at the top of her year and been entrenched in regular study sessions for as long as she could remember, the academic demands of University still gave Makoto challenge.

She was now competing against some of the best performing students from across the country, many of whom; like her; had scored the highest grades in elite prep schools. Makoto still held the coveted, number one spot but was having to work harder than she ever had before to maintain it.

Though normally favouring the library to study, Makoto had opted to avoid heading there for today. The facilities were packed out at this time of year, with students all trying desperately to fit in a last-minute binge of the term's curriculum, praying that the information would stick.

Finding a place to sit would be a nightmare. 

The ambiance of Leblanc, however, would allow her the concentration necessary for one last refresher of notes for her next exam. As well as a much-needed shot of caffeine.

"Oh. Welcome."

The unfamiliar voice startled Makoto, drawing her to a person behind the counter she did not recognise. Dressed casually in a button-down shirt and jeans; he peered towards her, his dark, shaggy head masked by glasses.

He was young, much closer to her in age than Sakura-san; or any of the cafe's regular clientele, for that matter. Seeming out of place amidst the shop's rather rustic decor.

Makoto wondered, momentarily, if she had mistakenly stepped through the wrong door, the evening having coated the streets in darkness.

Yet her eyes carried over the familiar canisters of beans and spices, suddenly enveloping her again in that eerie, nervous energy she had felt before. This sense of being out of place that Makoto thought she had managed to dispel. As though, in this stranger’s presence, the safe haven she had sought was slowly slipping away, an alien replica forming in its place.

"H- hello," she ventured after a moment. "Is- Is Boss around?"

The man behind the counter shock his head, black waves of hair rustling slightly with the movement.

"He had to step out for a moment. Left me in charge to run the store."

"Oh."

While the young man seemed pleasant enough, any further thought of conversation was stifled by Makoto's struggle placing the young man before her.

From the apron, and his position behind the counter, it was obvious he was working here. Yet, Makoto found this confusing. She had thought Sakura-san ran a one-man operation. Leblanc didn't seem like it did the business to afford, or even warrant, other employees.

Still, no other possible explanation could come to her. The only family Boss had mentioned to her had been a daughter, so this couldn't have been relative of his.

As she usually stopped by in the morning, it made sense that she wouldn't have seen him, until now.

Conscious suddenly that she had been standing, silently pondering, for several seconds; the part-timer still watching her expectantly; Makoto flushed.

"W- well, in that case. May I have a cup of Jamaican Blue?"

It was the first blend Boss had made for her. In a way, the aroma and flavour that had forged her connection to the Cafe and Boss. Perhaps retracing that palette would remind her of the comfort this room had brought her, making her feel home in her own skin and extending an olive branch to the stranger before her.

Blossoming perhaps a similarly fruitful relationship.

"Sure thing," the barista saluted. "I can't promise my coffee will be as good as Boss', but I am learning."

Though she wouldn’t dare admit it aloud, his words held true. His coffee was not as refined as Boss’. Still, it was familiar in its care, in the depth of its flavour profile. As she sipped from the cup with a contented sigh, it was clear to Makoto that he had followed the man’s instructions closely and would bud into a fine protégé.  

"So, what brings you here tonight?" The barista asked her between sips.

Normally such a conversation might bother Makoto, particularly when she had plans to study, but the man's easy smile and soothing timbre were welcome. Setting down her cup, she replied.

"I'm in the middle of exams at Tokyo University. I was hoping to get some last-minute revision in and needed the kick."

"Tokyo, huh? Isn't this kind out of your way? Or do you live around here?"

"No, I don’t. But the coffee is worth it. It's ruined me for anything else in the city."

"Really?" He chuckled. "Perhaps I could teach you then? That way you don't have to keep coming here."

Makoto smiled softly at the man's quip, but in all honesty she enjoyed coming here. Despite the laborious trips and extra train fare, sitting and savouring each finely prepared roast made it worthwhile. The store had a different atmosphere from anywhere else in the city.

"Oh, no. I couldn't trouble you. I don't have the equipment at home anyway."

She could only imagine how much she would need to save to be able to afford a proper coffee siphon like that. Nor where she could source beans the quality that Sakura-san used.

"Oh yeah, that's a problem." The part-timer nodded, scratching his head. "Still, it couldn't hurt to try."

Makoto's fingers stroked against her chin, weighing the temptation in her mind.

Though she had more pressing obligations, she couldn't deny her curiosity. She had watched Sakura-san prepare coffee many times and still hadn't been able to wrap her head around everything it involved.

"Are you sure it’s okay?"

"Why not?" The barista shrugged. "It's pretty much dead here, anyway."

Her books and plans to study momentarily forgotten, Makoto set her bag down; slipping on the apron that was handed to her in its place.

He led her meticulously through the process. Measuring out and grinding the coffee, using timers and thermometers to make sure everything was precise. Even breaking things down slowly, Makoto was a little overwhelmed.

To think that Sakura-san and his apprentice had to recall such an involved recipe off hand, all to make a single cup of coffee.

It was no wonder why they were of such quality. The love and effort that was devoted to each blend could not be substituted.  

His tutoring was disrupted by bells tinkered as the front door opened. Heart catching in her throat, Makoto turned as Sakura-san took her in; apron and all; with a look of bewilderment.

“Niijima-san? What are you doing here?” His employee waved from beside her with a sheepish grin “And you?

As Makoto attempted to stammer out an explanation, Sakura-san’s eyes narrowed at the space between, a mischievous, knowing glimmer crossing his features. 

"Oh. I’m sorry,” He said, voice suddenly devoid of any confusion.  “I didn’t realise you had company.”

“Boss, I-” Makoto's head bowed, apprehensive to meet his gaze.

“Please, don’t leave on my account. This old man’ll get out of your hair. Just make sure you lock up, kid.”

Though she wasn’t looking directly towards him, from her periphery, she could’ve sworn she caught Boss winking behind the counter, in their direction.

Puzzled, she glanced over at the man beside her who shrugged, a breathless laugh trailing from his lips.

It struck her as odd that the part-timer didn’t seem at all concerned about being caught by Boss in such a manner.

“I’m sorry. I hope you aren’t in any trouble.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it.” His hand waved, non-plussed. “I doubt he’s gonna fire me flirting with a customer. If anything, he’s probably pleased.”

“Y- you were flirting with me?”

“Well, I guess it wasn’t the most conventional method, but...” He blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Yeah, that’s what I was going for”

“Oh. I- I see.”

Though she hadn’t thought anything of it, in hindsight, it seemed a rather strange offer to make out of the blue. From the way they had been standing close to one another, his hands helping to guide her through each step. Now that he had clarified, it seemed obvious.  

Shrinking in on herself from embarrassment, Makoto struggled to peel her gaze from the floor. The chain of events she had just endured leaving her mortified.

"It's uh... It's getting late. I might take this to go, if that’s alright.”

“Oh. Sure.”

Makoto wasn't even sure if Leblanc offered take-away drinks, typically, but the barista nonetheless retrieved a Styrofoam cup from behind the counter. Hands dipping into his pocket, he fished out a black marker and began to scrawl something on the side of the cup, pausing briefly to glance up at her.

“You know, I never caught your name.”

“Huh? Oh, it's Niijima. Niijima Makoto.”

Makoto frowned, wondering what reason he could possibly need her name for. She was the only one in the store, there wouldn't be any need for him to call it out.

“I'm Amamiya Ren.” He replied as he set the cup back down and began pouring out her coffee. “Pleased to meet you, Niijima-san. Seeing as you're a regular here, I guess I’ll see you around?”

“Yeah.”

Ren was careful to turn the cup away as he handed it over, shielding whatever he'd written from view. Bursting with curiosity, Makoto held off the urge to turn it around until she'd made it outside, beyond the reach of his gaze.

She was surprised to find printed there carefully was not her name but a series of digits – his number, presumably.

Rolling her eyes, a fond smile lifted Makoto's expression as she took another sip; the rich taste seeping tantalisingly between her lips.

She would definitely be coming back.

[the--blackdahlia]

You’re All That I Need Chapter 1 (Tommy x Nikki)

Title: You’re All That I Need Chapter 1

Summary: It's the early 80's and Nikki Sixx is in need of a band. There's one condition: no other alphas. That should be fine, since he found three betas to fill up the lineup to become Motley Crue. Or, at least he thinks they're all betas.

Series Warnings: M/M smut (18+ only please), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, mpreg, language, slight drug use, protective Nikki, (might add more as we go)

AN: So, this is the first a/b/o fic I’ve ever done, and I couldn’t do it without the help of @callme-kaz2y5-baby! So make sure to send us both some love!

It wasn’t Nikki’s fault. Honest. Okay, well maybe it was kinda Nikki’s fault. Two alphas really didn’t do well in a band together. He should’ve known it. He usually worked with beta’s. Didn’t have to worry about sharing the omega groupies, didn’t have to worry about showing dominance over each other. But fuck, London was going to be such a fucking good band, but that asshole other alpha got too cocky, and swore Nikki was eyeing his mate.

He wouldn’t have touched his mate with a ten foot pole, if he was being honest.

That’s why he was sitting in a diner, holding a napkin to his nose. When did Lizzie fucking Grey get such a good right hook? Nikki shook his head. Fucking alphas. Next band, he was making sure everyone was betas. He wasn’t having a repeat of this disaster. 

And damn it, why couldn’t anyone list what they were in the classifieds? Fuck, it made this so much harder than it should be. But thankfully, some of the ads just had the alpha vibe to the wording, and Nikki could wave them off.

"Dude that was awesome, not the nose, well that was pretty badass too" Nikki's attention was drawn from the paper by the tall shaggy beta who walked up to the table. 

"Singers, an alpha ass" Nikki snarled. 

"I know, I saw, he deserved it" the beta replied, "I have your poster on my bedroom wall"

Nikki looked up, "take the fucking poster down, London's over." Nikki looked back to the paper, "my next band is going to be something the world has never seen." 

The beta slid into the seat across from him, "that sounds awesome" 

"You always carry those?" Nikki asked referring to the drumsticks the beta was twirling. 

"Yea! You. Ever know when your going to get the opportunity to rock!" the beta answered, "my name is Tommy"

“Nikki…” Nikki watched him. “Where’d you learn to do that?” Watching Tommy twirl the drumsticks in his fingers was almost hypnotizing.

“Uh...high school marching band…” Tommy gave him a shy smile. “I mean garage bands!”

“Well, what I have planned is a long way from...garage band.” Nikki chuckled.

“What kind of band do you have in mind?” Tommy asked. Nikki smiled, like he was just waiting for him to ask that.

“Well, I have this vision of a band,” Nikki said, looking down at the newspaper in front of him. “An epic band. Big stage production. Lights, and pyro, and hell, there can be blood. Apparently, it makes me look badass.”

“I mean...” Tommy laughed a little. “So, will it be like Kiss or something?”

“Kiss will be wishing they were my band,” Nikki laughed.

He turned his attention back to the newspaper in front of him, circling potential bandmates. That’s when a drumstick appeared in his vision, landing on the ad that read ‘Loud, rude and aggressive guitar player’.

“This dude sounds good,” Tommy told him. Nikki cast a look at Tommy before turning his attention back to the ad.

“Mick Mars?” Nikki asked. “What kind of name is that?”

“Alien?” Tommy asked with a shrug. 

“There’s no such thing as aliens man.” Nikki laughed. He couldn’t believe it. After all this time of finding it hard to make friends, this kid sits down at the booth across from him and it was like they had been friends forever.

“Dude, it’s LA. I’ve seen some weird things.” Tommy smiled brightly at Nikki. “You never know what you’re going to find!”

“Fair enough.” Nikki laughed. “Hey, didn’t you come in here with a girl or something?”

“Oh shit!” Tommy turned in his seat and looked back towards the booth where his date had been sitting. “Huh? She must have left.” Tommy shrugged and turned his attention back to Nikki. “So, tell me more about this band.”

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[thiswasinevitableid]

➼ you drunkenly text the wrong number and I’m enjoying your lame jokes so much I keep replying to you ➼ you misdial at a telephone booth and ask in a very upset voice if I can pick you up, and I don’t know why, but I ask where you are so I can pick you up These two for sternclay if you're still taking requests 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♂️

I am indeed! Here’s the first one.

Sterns phone dings, and he fumbles for it in the dark of his room, wondering who on earth could be texting him at this hour.

Unknown: Hey, hey, Jake, why did the bicycle fall over?

Stern stares at his phone, befuddled. That’s not his name.

Unknown: Because it was 2 tired!

He snorts. What a terrible pun.

Unknown: Why can’t ghosts have babies?

This time Stern decides to play along. What the hell, he’s already awake.

L. Stern: Why?

Unknown: Because they have a Halloweenie!

Stern’s guessing he meant “hollow” instead of “hallow” and that whoever is texting him is more than a little drunk.

L. Stern: That was terrible

Unknown: I know, right?

Unknown: Want another?

L. Stern: Please

Unknown: How do squids go into battle?

L. Stern: Do tell.

Unknown: Well armed

Stern, groggy and exhausted from a long day of frustrating work, laughs aloud in his bedroom. A noise he realizes he doesn’t often make.

L.Stern: LOL, as they say.

Unknown: :D. K, I’m gonna go to bed. Night, buddy.

L. Stern: Goodnight.

Well. That was an odd, late night diversion. As he curls back up and drifts off to sleep, he wonders if the person on the other end will ever realize their error.

—————————

“…And I texted a bunch of bad jokes! Ugh, this is so fucking embarrassing.” Barclay looks at his text history with the number that he could have sworn was Jake’s that he contacted at 2 am.

“There are worse things to drunk text a stranger.” His housemate Dani pats his shoulder before pouring herself some coffee.

“Why didn’t they tell me to fuck off?”

“Maybe they liked the jokes?”

Barclay shakes his head, that can’t be it. But he has no plans to find out, because he is never texting that number again.

—————————–

Unknown:  What do sea monsters eat?

Fish, perhaps seals, Stern thinks before realizing this is the set up to a joke. At least his mystery texter is only contacting him at midnight this time.

L. Stern: What?

Unknown: Fish and ships.

Unknown: Get it? Like fish and chips.

L. Stern: That was bad even for you

Unknown: Taking that as compliment.

L. Stern: My turn.

L. Stern: What did the alien say to the measuring cup?

Unknown: No idea

L. Stern: Take me to your litre.

Unknown: LOLLOL That was good. You’re like super good at this.

Unknown: K, my turn again…..

————————————-

As he’s doing his Sunday crossword, Sterns phone dings.

Mystery Jokester: Hey, sorry about the last two nights. I’d had a bit too much to drink and I guess I texted you instead of my friend.

L. Stern: Thank you for the apology. I must confess, your awful jokes offered such much needed levity to my week.

Mystery Jokester: Glad I could help? Sort of assumed you’d be pissed I kept waking you up.

L. Stern: You only woke me up once. I’m a night owl on weekends. I sense you are as well.

Mystery Jokester: Yeah, gotta do it while I can, my ass has to be up at 4 am on weekdays.

L. Stern: What do you do?

Mystery Jokester: I’m a baker

Stern stares at his phone. He has questions, but he’s a little unsure the person on the other end wants to keep talking.

Mystery Jokester: …Wanna hear a real bad joke?

L. Stern: Please.

—————————————–

L. Stern: What do you get when you cross a Kangaroo with an alien?

It’s a long-shot, but he’s so bored and his number is still twenty away from being called.

Mystery Jokester: What?

L.Stern: A Mars-upial

Mystery Jokester: Nice. Are all your jokes alien based?

L. Stern: No….some are also cryptid based.

Mystery Jokester: I honestly have no clue if you’re joking

L. Stern: I fear I may not be

Mystery Jokester: Nerd ;). So, what’s the occasion for bad joke texting me in the middle of the day?

Stern contemplates his answer. He should probably leave out the part where he has very few non-work or non-family contacts on his phone to chat with when he’s bored.

L. Stern: I’m trapped in the DMV and wanted to torment someone with my sense of humor. Plus I enjoyed our last conversation.

Mystery Jokester: Happy to be tormented. Guess I should’ve said this sooner, but my name is Barclay BTW.

L. Stern: Nice to meet you, Barclay. I’m Lucky.

——————————–

Barclay is lounging in bed, texting his new friend. It’s been about three weeks since his first bad joke laden drunk text, and he and Lucky have been gradually branching out from bad puns to more complex topics. He’s learned that Lucky is a special agent with the FBI, that he’s new in town, and that he loves old monster movies.

Special Agent: The upshot is, the X-Files greatly over represented the harm capabilities of the Chupacabra.

You: Good to know.

You: Hey, this may be weird, and you can totally say no, but can I see what you look like?

He’s been curious for the better part of a week, running through various ways the man on the other end of the line might look.

When his phone buzzes, he’s met with a picture that’s obviously a newly-taken selfie that makes his heart skip a beat. The man in it has short dark hair, clearly tousled from a shower, blue eyes and handsome, angular face. He looks pretty tall. Wait, is he wearing-

You: Are those bigfoot pajamas?

Special Agent: Yes. What, you’ve never seen a grown man in cryptid-themed sleepwear?

You: Can’t say I have. Looks good on you.

Lucky doesn’t respond right away and he worries that last comment was too far.

Special agent: Alright, since you’ve seen me, you have to show me what you look like as well.

You: Might be tricky, not exactly dressed for a selfie. Hang on.

There’s no way he’s gambling on sending Lucky a picture of him in his boxers. Not yet anyway. He flips through his phone until he finds a photo with him in it that isn’t blurry and hits send.

—————–

Stern looks that photo he received.

Barclay: I’m the one in the back, in plaid shirt.

No wonder the man doesn’t take selfies, he wouldn’t fit in the frame. He’s Big. Probably taller than Stern, which is no mean feat, shaggy dark hair and a well trimmed beard adding to his appeal. He wrenches his eyes from Barclay long enough to notice the rest of the photo.

L. Stern: You look very nice. Who is the young lady with the rabbit?

Barclay: Aubrey, friend of mine. Rabbit is Dr. Harris Bonkers, PhD, guy next to them is Jake. Guy next to me is Duck.

L. Stern: Boyfriend?

Barclay: No, just a good friend.

Stern is moments away from asking if Barclay would maybe, perhaps, at some point be interested in a date. But then.

Barclay: Ho shit, got late. I gotta hit the hay if I don’t want to fall asleep in the mixer tomorrow. Night, blue eyes.

L. Stern: Goodnight Barclay.

Stern sets his alarm, lays back with a sigh. He can’t fall asleep, feels too wound up. Well, he knows a way to take the edge off.

He shuts his eyes, pictures the face from the photo, and slips a hand beneath his waistband.

—————————–

Barclay: Hey, are you busy this weekend?

L. Stern: No, why?

Barclay: I have a pair of tickets to that new Godzilla movie. Jake and I were gonna go but he’s laid up after a skateboarding incident.

L. Stern: Barclay, are you asking me on a date?

Barlcay:……

Barclay: Yes.

L. Stern:  I’d be delighted.

Barclay: The Cinemark on F street, 6:30 tomorrow?

L.Stern: Roger that.

Barclay: See you then, blue eyes.

[lavieendonna]

Brushwork || ArtMajor!Calum AU (Chapter 29)

Summary: An Art Major AU where Dallas - third year gawky art student at VCA -  makes a deal with Calum - her cute new neighbour and project partner - and they spend the semester learning that the perfect masterpiece takes a whole lot of brushwork.

Date: 20 September 2019 Requested: no one cares   Pairing: Calum + Dallas Words: 3.8K Warnings: none! Except that if you try to find my master lists, most of the links are all fucked up because I haven’t gotten around to changing my url links from lavieencalum to lavieendonna. soz.  A/N: Christ on a cracker. It’s been.... literal months. But here is something to make up for it, although I know it won't. I already know that no-one reads this story any more so :) oh well. I just need to finish this for my own peace of mind. Anyway. 

Big Love xo 

Ask | Masterlist | ‘Brushwork’ Spotify Playlist | Next Chapter | Brushwork Mobile Masterlist | Chapter One | ‘Brushwork’ News | ‘Snapshot’

Chapter 29: It Was A Wonder Why I Didn’t Just Hold A Press Conference, Answer Everyone’s Questions, Then Proceed to Blow My Brains Out in Front of Them All.

I’d not really taken notice of the time since I’d arrived at the cinemas earlier in the evening. Not that I was there to see a movie or anything, no I was still too broke for that. But the cinemas down the street from the student residence had a quaint little eatery upstairs near the theatres. It was kind of like being in a pub (without the middle-aged men telling me to get out if I wasn’t going to let them cop a feel in the bathroom) and almost a little hipster, even – especially considering the cocktails all had ridiculous names (I was yet to figure out what was inside an ‘Illegal Alien’) and it served predominantly vegan (albeit delicious) food.

The Hideout was quiet and warm, and much more welcoming than either Bitters or The House. When I’d been laying around the apartment aimlessly feeling sorry for myself, I knew I needed to get out of the house and into a new space and this place had popped into my head. Calum and Ashton had brought Polly and me here once months ago, and though we’d had a great time we’d never come back. I wasn’t really sure why, because it never really came up in conversation either. It was just the kind of place that simply existed, almost like the way the four of us used to just exist.

It was almost kind of exciting working in my sketchbook and drawing in a new environment. There was soft jazz floating through the room and the coffee was better than anything anywhere on campus had to offer. There was something about the ambience that was putting me in the mood to just draw my dumb little heart out, and I didn’t really stop until the chick behind the bar wandered over for the first time since she’d delivered my last coffee over an hour ago.

“I think the last one went cold.” She offered a quirk of her brow and motioned quickly with her chin to the mug that sat on the table across from me still more than half full. She slid the new beverage onto the table next to the abandoned one, and sat herself down in the seat across the booth.

“Thanks,” I pursed my lips sheepishly, feeling as I melted slightly into the cushions of the booth and my cheeks burned a soft pink. “Sorry, I didn’t even realise I’d forgotten the other one.”

The girl shrugged but offered small crooked twitch of her lips which I guessed was supposed to be a smile.  

“Don’t be sorry.” She said simply, but almost kind of firmly. “You were in the zone, I could tell. Something on your mind?”

It sounded like the kind of line she should be asking me over at the bar while she wiped down the counter with a dirty dish rag after sliding me a beer that I would drink in a heartbeat then follow up with so many more this girl would have to haul me out to the curb by the waistband of my jeans. Obviously, that wasn’t going to happen, but I couldn’t help but look at this girl and really feel like her job here at The Hideout was her calling. She really looked the part, her shaggy chestnut hair brushing her shoulders, the eyebrow piercing and the name badge that read ‘Rocky’ even though I was almost certain that wasn’t her real name. Her entire being just screamed ‘Mentoring Barkeeper’.

“I guess you could say that.” I said little vaguely, pulling the new coffee closing to me by the saucer and relishing in the taste. “Is it that obvious?”

Rocky made a face and I grimaced, knowing exactly what that meant.

“You’ve had the same crease in between your eyebrows since you walked in.” She said almost matter-of-factly, tapping the spot on her own forehead to make her point. I blinked and absent-mindedly reached for my brow.

“Really?” I practically squeaked.

“Don’t think too much about it.” She said with the hint of a wider smile twitching on her lips. “It makes it worse.”

“Oh, God.” I muttered other unintelligible things while Rocky chuckled lightly, though she looked thoroughly amused.

“What’s got you troubled?” Rocky asked again with a slightly tilted head. I sighed, pursing my lips. “Actually, let me guess.” Rocky’s face shifted, her mouth forming a small ‘O’ as her eyes narrowed on me and a glimmer of mischief flashed through dark irises terrifying me slightly. “This is about a boy.”

I blinked dumbly.

“How… How could you tell?” I asked, not even bothering to be ashamed and just genuinely impressed by Rocky’s observational skills. The girl offered me a slight, one-shouldered shrug and gave a smug smile.

“It’s a talent of mine.” She said matter-of-factly. “My theory is that I was clairvoyant in a past life.”

“You believe in reincarnation?” I couldn’t help but arch my brow incredulously. “And clairvoyance?”

“No.” Rocky deadpanned with a one-shouldered shrug. “But it hasn’t been overly busy in here lately so I have to amuse myself somehow.”

I laughed and Rocky grinned at me, mischief being replaced by a softer, more comforting expression before I sighed yet again – which made a lot of sense, considering my entire life up to this point was just one big sigh.

“I have no idea how to fix this.” I admitted glumly, and as I reflected on my own words I was beginning to realise that this was the first time I’d officially and whole-heartedly admitted that out loud. And it was to a complete stranger, no less!

“What happened?” Rocky asked. “If you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

I had to stop myself from physically groaning at the inquiry. I was so over telling this story. Between my mother and my sister and Polly and now this girl – it was a wonder why I didn’t just hold a press conference when everything went down, answer everyone’s questions all at once then proceed to blow my brains out in front of them all.

I must have made a face that conveyed that entire thought pattern because Rocky’s hands went up, palms out as if in surrender.

“No, sorry. I get it.” She said softly. “You don’t have to tell me. I mean it’s not like you know me.”

“It’s not that,” I said immediately, even though that was (in part) a lie. “I’m just… this all started because I have a big mouth, that’s all.”

Rocky nodded slowly, but after a moment she leaned forward slightly and offered a calm, though slightly stoic, pursed-lipped half-smile.

“Look, I know we really don’t each other at all, and I gotta be honest, like, if the roles were reversed I probably would have told you to piss off by now.” I snorted and Rocky smiled too. “But you haven't done that, which means that whether or not you have a big mouth, you’re a good person. And you seem open to help, regardless of who it comes from.”

I had to sit and let Rocky’s words sink in for a moment while I took a long sip of my drink. Like she said, she was a total stranger, and yet she was under the impression that I, Dallas Noel James, was a good person. I couldn’t pinpoint why that meant so much to me, but it did.

“How do I show Calum that?” I found myself asking quietly. “How do I show him that… that I want his help? Like… specifically.”

Rocky seemed to stare at me for what seemed like longer than necessary, and for a moment I felt completely and utterly stupid for stooping so low as to ask someone I didn’t know for advice. I watched as a small frown formed between her shapely brows.

“His name is Calum?” She asked kind of dumbly.

“Uh… yes?”

Not for the first time since I’d arrived at The Hideout, Rocky narrowed her eyes at me, clearly deep in thought. “Huh.”

I blinked at her, kind of confused about how she managed to only take that away from my very genuine question.

“Why, uh… why do you ask?” I questioned when Rocky failed to elaborate on her ‘huh’. She tilted her head, right hand finding her chin while her eyes narrowed further.

“He wouldn’t happen to be, I don’t know… like six-foot-something? Dark hair, loads of tatts? The tall Māori kid, what’s-his-face… Hood!”

I couldn’t help the slightly creeped-out side-eye I gave Rocky as she described Calum to a T.

“Uh… yep. That’s… that’s him.” I said suspiciously. Rocky’s brow un-furrowed as realisation flooded her eyes and this kind of all-knowing smile finding plump lips.

“I should have known you were the girlfriend.” She said, almost proud that she’d put two and two together. “He was in here like a week ago telling me a very similar story.”

“Um…” I gulped, a shiver travelling up my spine though I wasn’t sure if it was because she knew who Calum was, because she’d now figured out who I was and what I’d done, or the fact that she’d just referred to me as ‘The Girlfriend’.  “Did… Is that what he said I was? His… his girlfriend?”

Rocky gave a light-hearted chuckle and shrugged.

“More or less.” She said vaguely with a casual wave of her hand. “But that’s beside the point.”

“It is?” I squeaked out and Rocky nodded.

“It is.” She repeated. “The point here, Dallas,is that you two are both clearly meant for each other.”

“Uh… I mean… um.” I stammered for a minute, almost thinking that I’d misheard her. I understood every word of Rocky’s sentence separately, but it was like the order she chose to put them in was completely foreign to me. Not to mention, I hadn’t even told her my name yet which meant she’d definitely heard it from someone – that someone being Calum.

“Hang on, how do you know Calum again?” I asked, partly because I was stalling so I could come up with something to say in response to Rocky’s statement, and partly because I was still really confused about her role in this.

“Oh, Cal buys my patches on Etsy.” She said as if it was supposed to be obvious to me that she sold patches on Etsy. “His sister has a jacket for them and I’m pretty sure they’re mostly mine.”

The jacket I borrowed from Mali that I’d worn to the Showcase came to mind and suddenly everything made sense. Calum told me himself, Mali knew someone who made custom jackets and he knew someone who made patches – and as it turned out, Calum’s someone was Rocky.

“Oh. Right.” I found myself saying carefully, nodding slowly and taking another sip of my drink that was, much like the last one, ever-so-slowly getting colder and colder. “Right, yeah, that… that makes sense.”

“Are you alright?” Rocky asked with an arched brow. “You look kind of… green.”

“I’m…” I did what I could to laugh. “Yeah, that’s kind of normal for me these days.”

“Is it what I said?” She asked, softer now. “About you and Cal?”

“No, no, it’s not that.” I ensured her, shaking my head quickly. “I just…” I looked at Rocky, almost with a bit of hope. “Do you really think so? What you said about us?”

Rocky didn’t say anything, though she did give me that small crooked smile of hers again and nodded once.

It took a few moments, but slowly I let myself smile back a little.

Rocky’s eyes flickered down to the workbook I was slaving over, her smile disappearing as she gestured with her chin to the piece I’d been working on all afternoon.

“Whatcha working on anyway?” She asked, and although I felt good about our conversation about my predicament, I was glad for the change of pace.

“Oh, um.” I looked down at the sketch, the wings of the butterfly not quite finished yet. It was nice, I guessed, but there were eraser shavings all over the page still. “It’s just… I don’t really know, actually. It was supposed to be a design for a tattoo but it’s, uh. It’s not done yet.”

I leaned back away from the book so that Rocky could lean forward, and I watched as she reached forward and pulled the book closer to her. She gave a small chuckle, nodding with what looked like an impressed expression.

“The rubber shavings make it look like that half of it the butterfly is made of shattered glass.” She commented and I looked down at the page again, really trying to see what she could.

“Huh.” I almost mumbled out. “I guess it does.”

“This is wicked,” Rocky nodded at me approvingly as she flicked through the book’s pages slowly. “You are one amazing artist, you know that?”

“Ah,” I gave a humble shrug, a small pursed lip smile finding my lips. “I’m alright.”

“No, really.” She said seriously, pausing on a set of sketches and running her fingers delicately over the lines. I lifted my chin slightly and peered over the top of the sketchbook to see what had caught Rocky’s attention, my cheeks flushing pink when I realised that she’d found the very first drafts of the ballerinas we modelled the mural after. “These are… Jesus, girl, there are stunning.”

Rocky was practically speechless as she stared at the pages, turning each one so gently it was like she thought they might disintegrate at the touch. And I was speechless too; I almost couldn’t remember the last time I let somebody look at all of the work that was supposed to be only for me.

“They are, aren’t they?”

A new voice joined us in the booth, both Rocky and I looking up in a flash to see who it belonged to. Rocky beamed at the new addition, excitement glistening in her eyes as she greeted him and closed my sketchbook softly. I, on the other hand, did my best not to projectile vomit in my new friend’s face, and felt myself melt into the leather cushions in an attempt to become invisible.

“Ah, speak of the devil and the devil shall appear, am I right?” Rocky said cheekily. Calum laughed, though I could tell he was holding back on my account.

“Pretty sure you’ve been here all along, Rock.” He shot back and Rocky’s mouth formed a small ‘O’ as she feigned offense.

“I prefer the term diavola, actually.” She said very concisely, though her smile was wicked and playful.  

“More like Satan’s Mistress.” Calum snickered, and even I couldn’t help the snort that forced its way through my throat. I immediately regretted the noise, too, because it meant I was no longer invisible – not that I ever was – and Calum’s attention turned to me.

“Hey, D.” He said carefully with the tiniest hint of a smile I’d ever seen him offer anyone. With a quick, terrified glance at Rocky (namely, my only support system at this exact point in time), I gulped like my life depended on it before pursing my lips together in a very similar, tiny, tiny smile.

“Cal, hey…” I said, although it was hoarse and half-choked because my throat had spontaneously gone dry. I cleared my throat, and while I was feeling almost confident for a split second and thought I might actually be able to get out the words I’d been dying to say, it all disappeared in an instant and I was overridden with fear once again. “I, um. I was just… leaving.”

“No, she wasn’t.” Rocky interjected loudly, making me jump a little and turning Calum’s initial disappointed expression into an incredulous arched brow. Rocky wasn’t bothered in the slightest, she just shuffled herself out of the booth and somewhat pushed Calum into her place. “I’m gonna go get you guys some milkshakes. Calum, usual?”

Calum gave a stiff nod and Rocky almost floated away, oblivious to the shitstorm McFlurry she’d just created and left behind, or – and this was more likely – she was aware and she didn’t give a shit at all.

There hung an awkward silence in the air that Rocky left behind, neither me or Calum knowing what to say. I did what I could to avoid eye contact, but eventually I let my gaze wander to his face and, lo and behold, he was already looking at me.

“It’s, uh. It’s Strawberry, right?” I spluttered out like an idiot and, as suspected, Calum’s brow lifted.

“What?” He asked with a slightly amused chuckle. I cleared my throat again because I could just feel the moisture leaving me from the inside out, but also because I needed a hot second just get a grip.

“The milkshake.” I said with a little more conviction. “You usually get strawberry.” I decided not to ask him this time and just point it out. And, apparently, it was the right move. Calum smiled gently and it took everything I had in me not to melt at how much I missed that.

“You remembered.” He said, impressed.

I shrugged, stealing a glance over to the counter across the way where Rocky was still eyeing us up as she made our drinks painfully slowly. I watched as she made a face before turning her back to us, giving Calum and I what little privacy she was willing to give us. My face flushed pink and for a moment it was almost like Polly was still here.

When I turned back to Calum he looked, not exactly troubled but like he was waiting for me to be the one to mention the elephant in the room. I gave a small sigh because even I knew that it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want it to be, but there was rarely a time in my life where I got what I wanted anyway so I bit the bullet and did what I could to gather some kind of sentence that resembled every last thought I’d had for the past few weeks.

“Listen, Calum,” I breathed out, and Calum perked up at the sound of his name like he’d missed the way I said it or something so equally as cliché that it belonged in a Nicholas Sparks novel. “I want… no, I need to apologise.”

“You were upset, Dallas,” Calum was already trying to defend me and I wish I surprised by that but I just wasn’t. “All of the things you said… I don’t blame you for that.”

“You should blame me for that.” I half-scoffed. “I said some shitty things to you, Cal. But that’s not what I’m apologising for.”

“It’s not?” He asked and I shook my head.

“No.” I confirmed. “No, I… I pushed you away. And not even just a little, like, I tried to throw you out of my life. And I can’t even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Calum’s smile that he gave was warm and understand and everything I didn’t deserve after what I’d put him through. And it made my bottom lip quiver, but I refused to sob. Because I was better than that.

“D, you don’t have to be sorry.” He said softly, his hands finding the surface of the table like he was thinking about reaching for me but wasn’t too sure if he should just yet. “I get it, it was a crazy time –”

“I do need to be sorry, Calum.” I interjected a little more aggressively than I had intended, but I think the desperation was clear in the way that my voice jumped an octave half way through the sentence. “I’ve spent the last three years stuck inside my own head and too debilitated by my own fear to see that when things went wrong in my life, it was my own fault. I convinced myself that I was no good at anything so it couldn’t possibly have been my fault that things blew up. You were right, Cal. I was full of shit. And you were only trying to help me through it but I… I pushed you away. And I’m… I’m so sorry for that.”

Usually this was the moment that Calum would get up and sit next to me, hold me close and tell me that it was going to be okay and that he was going to stick by me anyway. But he didn’t. He just looked at me a little sadly, patiently waiting for me to go one. Because he knew I wasn’t even close to done.

“You scare me.” I felt myself saying, and I didn’t even mean to but it tasted like the truth in my mouth. Calum’s eyes widened in confusion, though he didn’t look hurt.

“What?” He almost chuckled. “How? Why?”

I laughed now, though it was more of a reflex.

“Because!” I said dumbly. “You… you make me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me. Like I’m not a complete mess.”

“But you’re not,” He said, eyes narrowing at me slightly as if his statement was supposed to be obvious. “You’re, like, a regular mess. A standard, average mess for our age group in the twenty-first century.”

Brown eyes glistened through a cheeky grin and I laughed, though there were tears on my cheeks. That being said, I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t actually sure I could identify the emotion that I was feeling, all I knew was that there was something liberating about being able to talk to Calum again.

“It’s just that, for a while there…” I gave a small sigh, my gaze dropping. “Being a mess was all I knew how to be. And when you came along and made me feel normal… I didn’t know how to be that. How to be… what you wanted.”

When I looked up again, Calum was getting up and sliding himself into my side of the booth to sit next to me, one arm sneaking around my shoulders as he smiled gently.

“It’s okay, D.” He said softly. “You’re already everything I wanted, and you don’t need to try so hard to be perfect. Because you are so, so great.”

A smile slowly finding its way across my lips, warmth spreading through my chest so much it felt like I might burst. I could feel the butterflies in my stomach fluttering with excitement, Calum’s lips inching closer and closer to mine.

Somehow this moment in time was simultaneously fondly familiar yet excitingly new all at once. It was kind of like living in a dream, only one of those lucid ones where you’re fully aware of your surroundings and have the power to change it.

That’s what it felt like, having Calum’s lips press against mine again. It felt powerful.  

“Aw, well would you look at that.” Rocky’s voice was followed by two relatively loud thuds on the table, scaring the living daylights out of me. “As my Nonna would say; l’amore vince sempre.”

The girl pushed two milkshakes towards us, one strawberry and one chocolate. My cheeks were still flushing a brilliant red as I melted into the seat yet again, Calum rolling his eyes but still chuckling as he reached for the drinks.

“Always one for subtlety, Rock.” He sighed before looking back at me with glimmering brown eyes.

[the-silentium]

Unsteady Pt. 4

Summary: Y/N have to face the consequences of having found her soulmate.

Masterlist

Pairing: Eddie Brock x Reader , Venom x Reader

Warning: Fluff

Words: 2450 words

A/N: Happy New Year dear readers ! Thank all of you for your support on my work and I hope you all enjoy this chapter like I enjoyed writing it. May this year bring all of you new happiness, new goals, new achievements and a lot of new inspirations on your life !

You grunted. A ray of light passed through your curtains and hits you directly in the eye. You passed your hand through your face and your hair, trying to wake yourself up a little. For a moment, you think that you can take the day off, stay in bed and watch movies, but then your phone starts to lose his mind and a cacophony of beeping assaulted your ears. You sit on your bed slowly while reaching your phone. 6 texts messages, 4 missed calls and 2 voice messages. You opted for the texts messages firsts.

JAYA 1:04 a.m.: Hey bestie. I just wanted to get some news. If you wanna talk, you know where I am, never too late, never too early. Love ya girl.

P.S. I'm down for a pizza night if you are ;)

You laugh and crack a smile, taking note of her offer. You decide to answer her quickly with a “Roger that, call you later !” then you go to the next.

AXEL 1:09 a.m.: Hiya there sweetie ! How is my favorite brain manipulator ? Give me some news.

AXEL 1:21 a.m.: Don't keep me waitin’ ! Quit your lovey-dovey moment for 2 seconds and give me a thumbs up if everything's good.

You roll your eyes, still smiling. Axel could be dense and insistent sometimes, but you never get angry at him for that. As the time passed by, you grew to look at Axel like you would look to a big brother. He is always there to be a total goof, crack stupid jokes at your expenses and most of all, he is always there to keep your walls up. Whenever you feel like falling to pieces, he is there to keep you on tracks.

AXEL 1:30 a.m.: Seriously girl, answer me. I know I'm probably overreacting, but I just want your well being. Send a thumbs down if he is restraining you or whatever the alien or the guys might be doin’ to you.

AXEL 1:32 a.m.: Haha. That's stupid. Forget my last message. If they are, you can't do it. Well, send a signal through our mental radio frequency thing so I can relax a little.  

AXEL 1:45 a.m.: Well, you’re probably asleep, so you have to text me back at 8 max. or I’ll go kick your door down and get your little ass out of there.

Your sight moves to the clock at the corner of the screen. 8:07. 

You practically jump out of bed and go for the door of your apartment in a hurry. In the meantime, you press Axel’s phone number. His own apartment is only at 15 minutes from yours, well, when you respect the Traffic laws and God knows that Axel has a bit of difficulty with that. He answers at the first ring.

"Hey sweetie. You not dead yet ?" You know that behind the casual tone there is concern because you feel it through your door.

You open the door to come face to face with your favorite sarcasm dripping guy. His hair is shaggy like he drove his bike without a helmet, he wears his leather jacket and carries a sports bag. You give him a you’re the dumbass of the year look to which he only answers with a smile and pushes past you. He pats Hidde’s head once inside and put his bag on the side of the door.

"Well, my casa es tu casa." you say following him to your kitchen, your wolf-dog on your heels.

"I already know that. Now that I know that you still have all your body parts, you can thank me with a breakfast." he says with a wink.

"Thank you for what ? You nearly break through my door without reason !" you reply while sitting on a stool on the other side of the islet.

"Me fearing for your safety isn’t a good reason ? Plus, it didn’t happen, did it ?" he smiled at you and turn his attention to the coffee machine.

You were going to hit his shoulder when a movement in the corner of your eye catches your attention. You turned to see Eddie sitting on the couch, passing a hand on his face and through his hair. He looked lost for a second, but when he took notice of your presence, you saw him relax and a smile that makes all the butterflies in your stomach go wild graces his features. You were about to talk when Axel pushes a mug filled with dark coffee toward you and catch the attention of your soulmate. You see him frown at the unexpected guy in your kitchen.

“Good morning ! Eddie, this is Axel. Axel, this is Eddie."Axel takes notice of Eddie’s presence and wave at him, then point to his mug.

"Hey. Want a cup ?"

Eddie nods and comes to meet you. He kisses your cheek and takes a seat on a stool next to you, shaking the hand Axel presented him.

“Hey, sorry for last night.” says Axel.

“Yeah. Let's forget that.” he replies. You see him giving your friend a curious glance and you chuckle.

“Wondering why the sunglasses inside ?” Axel asked while giving Eddie his coffee and you stand to cook breakfast.

“Not that I judge. I have an alien up my ass, so… Wearing sunglasses inside is like the new kind of normal.”

“We are faaaaar from normal here. I have a heat vision and sometimes the colors are just too bright for me to bear it without sunglasses.” replies your friend.

To say that Eddie was not expecting that answer is an understatement. You couldn't see his face, but you could easily tell that he is surprised. You start cooking eggs and bacon for everyone while the conversation goes on. Mostly, it’s Axel asking questions to Eddie, wanting to know who he is, what he does, this kind of things. Yep, the perfect big brother.

“What's happening with you now ?” asks Axel while he puts his shoes on, ready to head back home.

“Well…” you trailed off while taking your phone noting that Mike left you a voice message. “I have a message from Mike so I'll have to call him back. I guess that I'm off the team now…” you look at your feet, sad to know that you will never work with them again.

“Don’t worry, we may not work together again, but I will come to annoy you twice a week as usual !” he says hugging you.

You hug him back.

“He is a good guy, you can keep your door” he whispers in your ear. You chuckle and punch him on the arm playfully.

“Call you later, hunter.”

You return to Eddie who is currently petting Hidde's belly. You are really relieved that those two get along well. You know that you can't continue your daily life without your loyal furry friend and now that you will have to find another job to keep you occupied, you know that you will need him even more.

“I have to make a call, I will be back in a few minutes.” you tell Eddie who nodded.

You go to your bedroom and dial Mike's number. Your thumb hovers above the green button for a moment. You know what's coming next. You will have to leave the team. Leave everything you know and start an apple pie life. You know it can't be that bad, but you are scared because you can't remember a life without having to kill, capture, spy and protect some witnesses. With a shaky breath, you press the button and wait for Mike to answer. One ring. Two. Three.

“Hey there Y/N.”

“Hey Mike. Sorry for missing your call.”

“There's no problem there kiddo. I totally understand. Is everything alright on your side ?”

“Yeah. The only thing that almost goes wrong is Axel nearly breaking down my door because I didn't answer his texts so I think it's on a good way.” you say with happiness evident in your voice.

“That smughead.” he sighs. “So, let's talk about what will happen. You know the rule. No person with a soulmate in the team. It's too dangerous. I'll transfer in your account your part of all our missions that weren't already transferred. I can ask some acquaintances of mine to find you a job easily if you'd like. Not that you would really need one in a near future.”

“Thanks for that. I don't know yet, but I'll give you a call when I have decided.”

“Sure, take all the time you need. I can make that call in a year if you'd like. Just know that there's no due date to this offer. Now. I have a last order for you. Take it easy, live the life that was taken from you so long ago and live it to its fullest. You will never have to watch your back, I can guarantee it. Enjoy your life with your soulmate.”

At this point, tears fell from your eyes and you couldn't hold back a sob.

“Can we keep the Friday night tradition ?” you ask with a little voice.

You hear Mike chuckles. “Of course. What would we do without our food and movie night at your place ?”

“Thank you Mike. For everything. From then to now. You did so much for me that I can't repay you for.”

“That's what family is for. See you next Friday. Take care.”

You end the call with a smile on your face and tears in your eyes. You found yourself so lucky to have this family who cares and looks out for you and now, you have the right to live with your soulmate. You couldn't be happier.

You return to the living room, wanting nothing more than hug your other half. Unfortunately, you didn't think that you had cried a lot during the call, but you did. A lot. And now, when Eddie puts his eyes on your puffy red eyes and trails of tears on your cheeks, Venom doesn't think twice. He doesn't even question why you are smiling while having this face. He engulfs Eddie and gets to you within a second. You see Hidde jolts but he is soon hidden by the big mass that is the symbiote. You send your dog reassuring thoughts while Venom cradle your cheeks in his hands.

“Our morsel cried. Who hurted you ? We will make him pay for hurting you by eating all his limbs one by one.”

You put your hands on top of his and finally take a time to admire his body. You take in each white veins on his pristine black body, getting higher. When your gaze fell on his eyes, you can't stop yourself. You retrieve your hands from his and put them on his cheeks. Well. Where they should be. At your contact, Venom seems to melt a little. He arched his back a little more to grant you more access to him and you take it as your cue to explore the sensation of his skin on yours.

Your hand explores his face, then his neck, then his chest. You wondered if you could feel Eddie under it but the more you touched, the more you knew that the answer is no. There was only Venom for now and you found yourself liking the symbiote. When you pull him in a hug, you weren't surprised that he hugged you back. But what surprised you was that he started to purr. You felt the small vibration and the happiness radiating of him. It makes you push away a little. Just enough to be able to be face to face with him.

“No one hurted me Venom. I cried because I was extremely happy.” you say.

Venom smiled at that. You had a perfect show of his very sharp teeth and you didn't feel scared. At all. You could feel what he feels for you and you know that you would never have to fear him. In any circumstances.

“What makes you happy morsel ? We need to know so we can make you happy more often.” he says.

He slips his tongue past his lips to lick your right cheek affectionately. You chuckle, the feeling reminding you of Hidde when he licks your face but way more wetter.

“I was happy because I have such a perfect family who takes care of me. And now, I have the opportunity to live a life with my soulmate.” you say with joy. Then, you think of something and you frown. Your smile disappeared and Venom becomes concerned, his purring stopped.

“What is troubling you morsel ?”

“I never apologized for what I did to you Venom. I hurted you and I'm terribly sorry. And you're not a parasite, I'm sorry for that too.” you say with remorse in your voice, lowering your head.

There is a moment of silence. Venom's hands release your back to take your chin between his fingers and make you look at him.

“We forgive our morsel.”

Then you smile and your eyes watered again.

“You are happy right ?”

“Yes Venom, extremely happy.”

His purring started again and you see his form moving. He starts to shrink and soon enough, you can see Eddie. He is radiant of joy and engulfs you in a breath-stealing hug. He pulls back, locks eyes with you and gets closer to you. When his lips brush against yours, he says “ I love you so much.” You can't take more and push your lips to his. You move perfectly in sync with each other and go slowly. You both want it perfect, filled with love, not pressing the other into anything, because truly, that kiss only was filling an enormous hole in both your hearts. That kiss on hitself made you both feel satisfied. You feel Venom wrapping himself around your waist and you didn't know you could be happier at this moment, but you definitely could. Both of them made you feel whole for the first time of your life.

You were the first to push away to breathe but you stay close to him. You put your forehead to his and you both stayed there for a while, enjoying the other.

Then, you heard a beeping sound from your cell phone, but you ignored it. Eddie, on the other side, took a glance at it while the screen was on and he jumped. His eyes were wide and you really wondered what happened. You asked him, his only answer being "How many zeros were on that transfer ?!"

Tag list: @tomhardy41 @randomshizzles101

[margarittet]

Scoobies and Djinns and Dean, oh my!

So all that talk about djinns and Cas made me think about the other times we had djinn on the show, especially 2x20 “What is and What Should Never Be” and 8x20, “Pac-Man Fever”. These two times we see the fake realities the djinn creates to trap Dean and Charlie respectively, and on the meta level these realities showed us (and the characters) a glimpse under the surface of what was going on inside their minds - mainly Dean. The first dream was Dean centered, and the other one was Dean centered by proxy. Both times Dean is faced with realization: to keep moving on with his life, he needs to let go of something (in 2x20 he needs to let go of his idea of the perfect family life where everyone is normal, happy and successful - everyone but him; in 9x20 he needs to let go of his need to protect Sam). 

Both times he decides to let it go, and by doing that he manages to break out of the dream, and get back to the reality. 

 Dude, I hear you. And yet...

Well, it is, isn’t it? It is not exactly a djinn dream, but it seems like all of the situations have A LOT in common.

This Scooby Doo episode is a CONSTRUCT, and it is tailor-made for Dean.

Why do I think so? First of all, the shoutouts to djinns and Gabriel (and a callback to the “bigger mouth” joke from “Changing Channels”), both of whom created their fake realities in ways that fit the boys personally. Gabriel adjusted the real-life television programs so that they go smoothly with the boys’ story and the djinn dream in “What Is and What Should Never Be” is made based on Dean’s dreams and insecurities. For me, the whole Scooby Doo story inside the story is more a thing shaped by Dean’s subconsciousness (or at least we should see it like that) that Sam and Cas got sucked into as guest visitors. It’s almost like being dragged into somebody else’s dream.

Do you remember when Dean hitched a ride into Charlie’s subconsciousness in “Pac-Man Fever”? He woke up in the computer game she often dreamt about, dressed as an army doctor, in full hospital uniform and heavily decorated. Why? Because that’s how Charlie saw him - as a skilled, dependable fighter, but also a guy who’s main job in life was to help people in need. Dean was still himself inside, as his whole consciousness was put into that dream, but his outside look and the role he played in her dream was dictated by her subconsciousness. In both cases, both in 2x20 and in 8x20, everyone else besides the self-aware people, were just pawns, fake background characters put there by the subconsciousness of the dreamer (or dreamers, as Charlie asks Dean in 8x20: “Is this my nightmare or yours?”) to make a point. In 2x20 Dean was still Dean, but his role in the dream (a guy with a low-level job, stealing, gambling, having a girlfriend having “low standards” for dating him), and every other person there, was dictated by his subconsciousness.

“Scoobynatural” is not a djinn dream, but the djinn dream rules seem to apply here.

So, why would the ghost kid decide to put an adult man of 39 into a tailor-made cartoon, you ask? Well, because the said man has only been mentioning kid’s stuff every five seconds since he stepped on screen in this episode: Moosylvania (the fictional country from “The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle“, the original moose and squirrel show), Barney, Bat Cave/Fortress of Solitude (comic book/superhero references) , and “Frozen”. Except the moment he enthusiastically starts humming “Sunrise” from Richard Strauss’ “Thus Spoke Zarathustra”, these are Dean’s only cultural references in the episode before the boys get sucked into the 2D-land.  

So, if this assumption is right, what does Dean’s subconsciousness tell us here? Let’s look how his psyche shaped the characters’ and their roles in the Scoobyland.

First of all, it puts them in “A Night of Fright is No Delight”, the episode that includes a character of Colonel Sanders (Asmodeus, anyone?).

Daphne is hotter and sexier than we remembered, which is completely understandable since Dean was watching Scooby Doo as a kid, and even the regular Daphne was probably considered crazy hot by the tween Dean. It’s understandable that his subconsciousness would make her much more adult-looking than she actually was on screen, in the same way our older siblings always seemed taller and more mature than they really were at the time.

Fred - the one guy who is everything Dean had always so desperately wanted to be. Cool, good-looking, optimistic, well-dressed, STRAIGHT, with groovy tunes and a fast car. Big, beautiful and dumb, the one who always runs head-first into the dangerous situation, no matter the consequence. His elaborate plans never work, but he still succeeds. In Dean’s mind Fred wins at life - he wins the car race, he gets the girl, he is the self-assured leader of the group. Dean wants to be him, but Dean also wants to be WITH him (but that’s a topic for another time).

Velma, Scooby and Shaggy are pretty regular, but the costruct has special roles for them - to be paired with just the right people.

Velma is infatuated with Sam from the very beginning, and Cas (the talking dog) is paired with Shaggy and Scooby right away - and please notice how it’s Scooby characters who approach them when the group splits, not the other way round; Sam doesn’t choose Velma - Velma just slides to Sam’s side, and in the same way Scooby and Shaggy are the only ones who even acknowledge that Cas exists). (Similarly, please notice how Daphne doesn’t seem to approach anyone from the TFW herself, and Fred magnetically approaches Dean every single time Daphne doesn’t seem to have any interest in him).

The Scooby characters are painfully two dimentional (no pun intended), and only seem to play their expected parts in this weird fanfiction (except for the moment when they get their nervous breakdown due the the fact that Dean stops performing, and starts being real about ghosts - and that’s also the time where the characters fall out of their expected roles). 

Three other elements get sucked into the Scoobyland alongside Dean - Sam, Cas and Baby. The three most important things in Dean’s life. The Impala looks sexy. Cas looks REALLY sexy. Cartoon Sam has a permanent bitchface looking at Dean. (This also calls back to 2x20, where Sam didn’t actually like Dean in his dream construct. Like, AT ALL.) As I said, some people in the construct are themselves and self-aware, but their outside visuals seem to be dictated by the dreamer/central person. 

You are telling me it’s not Dean’s subconsciousness speaking to us here?

As I said, Sam looks pretty much like regular Sam, but he is the only one who gets the attention of the girl who Dean most probably thinks the best suited for him: the smart, bookish one. Because that’s how Dean sees Sam: as the one who deserves attention, who is the smart one, the brains of the operation, who should get the kiss and the happy ending. In season 8, Dean says it in text (in a Dabb episode, no less, “Trial and Error”), that Sam should survive, should get a normal life, a wife and a way out. And where Dean failed to get interest of either Fred or Daphne - because even when he lets himself admit he actually does like Fred as well, his subconsciousness blocks his chances with either of them because he still doesn’t think he is good enough to be wanted by anyone (oh, Dean). (In the same way he questions why a cute, smart, and mature girl is dating him in the dream in 2x20, hearing that she she only does it because has low standards.) Daphne ignores him. Fred compliments him, but in the end leaves him as well, and goes off together with Daphne. 

Cas, as mentioned, looks devastatingly handsome (much more than usually, great job there Dean’s subconsciousness), and Dean can’t stop smiling when he shows up in the Scoobyland. 

It was the last missing piece of his perfect dream adventure. In Dean’s mind Cas is the talking dog of their group, and sure enough, from the moment he arrives he gets automatically approached and claimed by Scooby and Shaggy, bonding with them and showing his Superman side before the end of the case. Cas is not happy to be in the cartoon though, and here comes the ironic part of episode, and he whole season as well: by performing violently while chasing his unattainable goal of seducing Daphne, and at the same time seaching for approval from Fred, Dean alienated the one person who actually matters, who doesn’t care about the performance at all, who thinks the ghost’s costume is ridiculous. Not unlike in 13x06, Cas sees Dean really happy for reasons he is not a part of (or thinks he is not a part of because Dean is a coward), and fails to understand that in the end nothing else matters to Dean beside Cas (and his and only his attention and approval)(also, Dean ends the episode with losing exactly this).

Dean enjoys the Scoobyland, but he quickly learns that a) it’s not real life (obviously), and b) it doesn’t serve as his safe haven anymore.

Whatever makes Dean happy in the Scoobyland is just a childhood fantasy that he tries desperately to hold on to because otherwise he’d have to face the reality of who he really is, and the life he leads. In the end though he understands letting go (like Elsa, like the djinn dreams) is the way to go - he admits that ghosts are real, shattering the naivity and the innocence of the Scooby gang in the process, and he admits that Fred is not so bad after all, that he is not an enemy but an ally (or maybe even something more - the yang to Daphne’s yin, the metaphor for uniting the feminine and the masculine aspects in his life and his sexuality). And even though eventually TFW helps Velma and the gang to bounce back to their regular, pure selves, Dean is not backtracking after this - no, he comes back to the real world and follows through with the promise of liberating the ghost boy aka his own spirit of childhood while literally hammering the point home by smashing the tv and the Scoobyland to pieces.

This is only possible because Dean was ready to let it all go already. This was his last hurrah, his last bucket of cold water that he needed to realize that he has moved on from that childhood ideal of masculine men and hot girls, that he can admit he likes the stuff (and people) he likes without feeling ashamed, and that Fred actually is a kind of a douche and nothing much to aspire to (but he still likes him). That if he wants to like Elsa and wear ascots, he will just like Elsa and wear ascots. That being smart pays off because you find secret passages, that Freds plans never work while his own do, that being honest and sincere is always the right way to go.

In the end he admits it would never have worked out with Daphne anyway (don’t we all know it!)

Even during the story, everytime he turns away from chasing after Daphne, he turns back to Dean we know and love: the hug monster in his purple nightgown; the smart guy finding clues in the library; an excellent pep-talker; the competent hunter; the person who helps the ghost of the young boy find his peace.

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