#I GUESS?? THIS COULD BE CONSIDERED A FOLLOW UP??

[steddieas-shegoes]

you and all of your new perspective

for @steddiesongfics using 'new perspective' by noah kahan

also on ao3

rated m | 3,513 words | no cw | tags: rock star eddie munson, good uncle wayne munson, mutual pining, yearning, post-vecna, love confessions, idiots in love, first kiss, implied sexual content, getting together

🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻🤘🏻

He’s looking down at the letter and wondering how the hell he’s supposed to be normal about Eddie visiting him.

In Hawkins.

Where Eddie swore he’d never come back to the moment he got his ticket out of here.

“Starin’ at it ain’t gonna make him not come,” Wayne says from across the counter. “Surprised he didn’t call ya to tell ya.”

“He…he left a few messages,” Steve explains, setting the letter down and resting his face in his hands. “I just figured he wouldn’t come if I didn’t call him back.”

Wayne raises a brow, gives him a look that Steve’s perfectly familiar with by now. Four years of weekly dinners with a man that’s well aware of your feelings for his nephew leads to some knowing looks and light teasing.

“Only reason he’d ever step foot in this town again is for you and you know that,” Wayne says as he opens another beer. He has three every Friday night, but no longer indulges during the week. Ain’t so young anymore, son, and I gotta stay active to keep up with all your chores, he’d told Steve when he asked. Steve thinks the doctor told him to take it easier. “I don’t think he even told the kids.”

“Don’t see why he would. They’re all over. He’s probably seen them on tour.”

Steve tries not to sound bitter. He woke up in his own bed or whatever the saying is. He can’t blame Eddie for doing exactly what he said he would, following his dreams, getting the hell out of Hawkins the moment he could. The kids did the same, but at least they visited.

“Well, they’ve been houndin’ him to come visit you.”

Steve lifts his head. “They what?”

“They just worry ‘bout ya,” Wayne shrugs. “So do I.”

“I went on a date last week! Robin visited two months ago! I see you every Friday!” Steve stands and starts pacing. “I’m gonna go visit Dustin at school in a month. And Will has his freshman exhibition that we’re all trying to meet up at. It’s not like I’m lonely.”

“Son, I think the only person lonelier than you is Eddie,” Wayne gives him that sad smile he gives whenever they talk about Steve’s social life. It’s like he knows it’s pitiful, and he knows Steve knows it’s pitiful, and he’s making sure Steve knows that he knows. “And he’s stubborn as a mule, but he cares too much about ya to let you suffer.”

“Who said anything about suffering?”

“It’s implied by the way the kids talk about you.”

“How’s that?”

“The word hermit has been used a bunch,” Wayne explains. “Now, I’m gonna finish this beer and you’re gonna stop workin’ yourself up over something that’s still days away.”

Steve rushes over to his calendar, holding up the letter, then checking the calendar.

“He’s gonna be here in three days!” Steve yells. “I can’t be ready by then!”

“What the hell do you need to be ready for? It’s just Eddie,” Wayne is smirking again and Steve’s tired of his teasing, but he’s not gonna say anything because it doesn’t do any good to draw more attention to it. “He ain’t expecting a welcome committee. Maybe a balloon or somethin’; You know he likes the show of it all.”

Steve groans.

He does know. Eddie loves dramatics, that’s what makes him such a good performer on stage. That’s what makes him a great DM.

That’s what made Steve fall in love with him.

“I don’t even know where to get balloons,” Steve says, resting his forehead against the wall.

“The new Wal-Mart should have some,” Wayne pats his shoulder. “We watchin’ the game or standing around havin’ a crisis in your kitchen?”

Steve breathes in. He breathes out.

“I’ll have a crisis tomorrow, I guess.”

“That’s my boy!”

++++

The crisis does come the next day, but this time Wayne isn’t there to make it worse or better. He considers calling Robin, but he knows she’ll just tell him to use his good cologne and try not to be weird. He even thinks about calling Dustin, but immediately shuts that down when he remembers that Dustin is the one who called him a hermit to Eddie’s face.

He finds balloons at the store, and adds streamers to the cart on a whim. He’s sure Eddie will love it. Eddie loves that kind of shit.

He also grabs a pie crust and apples because he remembers Eddie saying how much he loves apple pie with vanilla ice cream one time nearly five years ago.

Okay, maybe it’ll be weird that he remembered that.

He goes to put the apples back when Joyce bumps into him as she’s reaching for a bunch of bananas.

“Sorry honey!” She throws her hands out to catch him, even though she’s the one who almost falls. “I wasn’t paying attention. You doing okay?”

“Yeah, how’re you?” Steve gives her a small smile, trying not to show how panicked he is.

“Sweetie, you look stressed. Is something wrong?”

“No! No, just preparing for a guest,” Steve says, unsure if Eddie’s told anyone else in Hawkins he would be visiting and not wanting to ruin any surprises if he intended on doing that.

He doesn’t even know how long Eddie’s staying; He didn’t say in his letter or voicemails. Wayne hasn’t mentioned it either, which means he probably knows exactly how long he’s staying.

“Oh, is Eddie staying with you?” She asks, brows furrowing. “I assumed he was staying with Wayne. I helped him find an apple pie recipe for his visit.”

Steve looks down at the ingredients in the cart, the evidence of what he’s going to make even more obvious now. Joyce’s gaze follows his and she bites back a knowing smile.

“Ah.”

“Ah?” He asks.

“Uh huh,” she says, nodding. “I would make sure to get the green apples. He likes sour more than sweet when there’s ice cream.”

Steve looks over at the green apples and back at the red apples he was planning on buying. Joyce winks at him before she grabs the bananas and starts to walk away.

“Enjoy the visit!”

Steve doesn’t respond.

He grabs six green apples and shoves them in a plastic produce bag.

He’ll make the damn apple pie and Eddie will love it. Steve will pretend the apple pie isn’t filled with the love he can barely contain for the man, and maybe Eddie will enjoy it and leave as if he never came.

Maybe Steve can make it through this visit with dignity.

****

Eddie shows up at three in the afternoon on a Wednesday. Technically, it’s 3:03, but Steve wasn’t watching the clock or anything. That would be ridiculous.

He looks just like he always did, just like Steve expected. He’s smiling, and playing with the ends of his curls. Steve is never gonna make it through this visit with dignity.

“Stevie!” Eddie rushes in for a hug, and it should be more awkward than it is. Eddie didn’t exactly leave on the best of terms with Steve. They really only spoke a handful of times over the last few years, and most of those were forced by Wayne or Dustin. But it’s like he never left, like he’s been hugging Steve every day for years.

Steve soaks it up, falls into it and doesn’t care how it looks. If Eddie has a problem with it, he doesn’t say so. He holds Steve tighter, his breath warm against his neck.

Eventually, Steve invites him inside and it does start to feel awkward.

Eddie’s a rock star now, and despite how normal he looks, he’s different. He’s here to see Steve, but is he here out of guilt that it took him this long to visit or because he actually wants to?

Steve talks about work, and his dinners with Wayne, and spends more time than he should explaining Robin’s degree program even though he knows Robin already talked to Eddie when she got accepted. He goes on and on about what everyone else is up to because his life is pretty boring in comparison and he doesn’t want to bore Eddie away.

“Sounds like everyone’s doing good, but I already knew that,” Eddie eventually says when Steve’s rambled for much longer than he planned. “How are you?”

“I told you, I’m fine,” Steve says. “Kinda boring around here, honestly. How’s the tour been?”

Eddie laughs and Steve tries not to let it hurt. He doesn’t think he means it in the way Steve’s taking it and that’s a Steve problem, not an Eddie problem.

“I called you 37 times,” Eddie says instead of answering him. “Every city we had a show. The first few I figured you were just busy or asleep. I didn’t think about time zones. But then I started to realize you were avoiding me.”

He isn’t mad, or at least he doesn’t look mad, but Steve feels like he needs to apologize anyway.

“Yeah, sorry. After a while, it kinda…”

“Seemed worse to call since it was so long?” Eddie asks, small smile falling from his face when Steve nods. “It’s never a bad thing to hear from friends, though. You could’ve called the bus phone anytime. Left a message. We got an answering machine because Gareth’s mom always calls when we’re on stage.”

“Right. Good to know,” Steve says. Which, it is good to know, but he doesn’t plan on calling unless there’s an emergency. He can’t look as desperate as he feels and if he calls once, he’ll call twice, and then a hundred times. “What city was your favorite so far?”

Eddie tilts his head, looks him over for a moment before responding. “I liked Boston. All the kids were front row. Except El, she somehow got backstage. Still not sure how. Missed you, though.”

Steve feels his face heat up at the words. Eddie always said things in a flirty way, even though he doesn’t really mean it that way. Steve can’t let himself think that he means it that way.

“It’s a pretty big trip, so. I couldn’t miss work.”

It’s a shit excuse because he absolutely could miss work. It’s a grocery store in a small town, and he doesn’t care that much about it.

“They couldn’t find someone to cover a couple days for you?” Eddie sounds hurt now, and Steve can’t let him think that he’s the problem.

“I didn’t ask. I-” Steve has to be brave now. Wayne’s voice is in his head telling him to just tell Eddie why he’s been so distant, why he hasn’t been the one to reach out. “I was scared to go.”

This seems to throw Eddie off balance. His eyes squint and forehead wrinkles adorably as he tries to do mental gymnastics to find out why Steve of all people would be scared to visit him. Steve is known for throwing himself in the line of fire, being the first one to step in when everyone else is scared. Too bad this type of courage is different.

“Are you scared of flying? I didn’t know, maybe we could have figured out a hired car.”

“No, I don’t mind flying,” Steve admits.

“Then…why were you scared?”

“Because if I let you in, you’ll see how much I miss you and if you see how much I miss you, you’ll see how much I love you. And then you’d never wanna have me around and it would be just like everyone else I love who leaves because I’m not enough to keep them around,” Steve lays his head back against the couch. The Wayne voice in his head is suspiciously quiet.

So is Eddie.

Steve isn’t going to talk anymore; He’s said enough.

Eddie’s hand covers Steve’s. It’s warm and surprisingly soft, and bigger than Steve’s. He never realized that before, not even when he held his hand while he was in the hospital after Vecna or when he watched him play guitar for hours while he was trying to gain his confidence back.

“People don’t leave because you aren’t enough, Steve. They leave because the world is big and they want to be a part of it. Everyone wants you to do that, too,” Eddie says softly, carefully. “I think most of the kids hoped you’d leave Hawkins once they did. Dustin thought you’d come on tour with me.”

“Why would he think that?” Steve doesn’t remember ever having a conversation with Dustin that would make him think that, but his memory isn’t the best.

Eddie’s lips curl up into a smile and he leans forward.

“You know you’re incredibly obvious, right?” Eddie whispers even though they’re alone and there’s no need to be quiet. “You’ve always been easy to read.”

“What does that mean? Read what?”

“You wear your heart on your sleeve and it’s been right there with Eddie written across it since I was in the hospital, sweetheart.” Eddie points to Steve’s arm. He looks down as if he would be able to see the heart Eddie’s talking about. “You’re an open book.”

The timer in the kitchen goes off and Steve jumps up. He rushes to the oven, grateful for the distraction.

“Is that apple pie?” Eddie asks from a few feet away. Steve really should’ve known he would follow him.

“Yes, it’s gotta be perfect.”

“You made apple pie for me?”

Eddie’s right behind him now, and when he turns, there’s no space between them at all. Steve smells the airport on him, the rental car, the cologne he’s worn since Steve bought it for him before he left Hawkins.

He looks up and sees the years that have passed in smile lines on Eddie’s face, in a single gray hair that Eddie’s probably keeping because it makes him look cool. Steve hasn’t found any gray hairs yet, but he’s only 25. Eddie always said Wayne went completely gray by 30, so his genetics wouldn’t be as kind to him. Steve kinda hopes he’s right. Eddie would be beautiful with gray curls.

“Just like I said: heart on your sleeve,” Eddie whispers, leaning in until his lips are just barely brushing against Steve’s.

He’s waiting for Steve, to see if he’ll finally give in after years of near-silence, after whatever flirty and semi-codependent friendship they had before Eddie left to be a rock star.

Steve’s spent enough time waiting, and he thinks Eddie probably has, too.

His lips press against Eddie’s, sure of their movements despite the anxiety crawling through his chest and the unfamiliar taste of him on his tongue.

It’s full of hunger even though it only lasts a few seconds. Steve’s wanted this, wanted him, for so long, he puts everything he has into this moment. If it’s all he gets, he wants it to be perfect.

“You’re kissing me like you’re sending me off to war,” Eddie says when they’ve caught their breath.

“Feels like I am,” Steve admits, corner of his mouth turning up in a sad smile. “At least a little.”

“I think the odds of me dying on stage are probably extremely slim,” Eddie laughs. Steve doesn’t laugh with him. “Steve? What’s wrong?”

Steve pulls himself away, ignoring the way his chest aches at the separation. He’ll have to get used to that when Eddie leaves.

“You have a whole new life. You’re a rock star, Ed. I can’t force my feelings on you now.”

“Who said you forced anything on me?”

“I made you apple pie!” Steve exclaims, pulling away so he can breathe again. Having Eddie in his space alters his brain chemistry, maybe his DNA. “I bought all your favorite things so I could try to convince you I’m worth staying for, even though I can’t compare to going on a world tour with your band. I cleaned out the guest room and made sure I put your favorite shampoo in the shower as if you would even notice that. As if it would be enough to keep you around.”

Eddie steps closer, but Steve steps back.

“Your life is different now. It’s good. I wouldn’t add anything to it, and I don’t know why I even tried to make it seem like I would.”

Eddie steps closer, and there’s nowhere for Steve to go. He’s boxed in against the counter, and Eddie’s face is red with anger. He’s not scared– he could never be scared of Eddie– but he does swallow around a lump in his throat and try to take a deep breath to calm his racing heart.

“My life is different now, you’re right about that. My life doesn’t even feel like mine most days. I belong to fans, and the guys, and the record label. But you know what does feel like mine?” Eddie leans in close enough that his breath is hot against Steve’s face. “How much I love you. How much I have always loved you. You’ve always felt like mine, Steve.”

It’s a hell of a confession, and definitely not what Steve expected from this visit.

The Wayne voice in his head decides to speak again. Except this time, it’s something he’s said to Steve in person before.

He’s surrounded by people, but he seems pretty lonely. Kinda like he still needs a certain someone.

Steve’s brows crinkle as he thinks about the words Wayne said after a phone call with Eddie during the first part of his first tour nearly two years ago. The words were accompanied by a look that Steve has since come to recognize as his sad puppy look.

The same one Eddie’s giving him now.

Steve can’t help it; He laughs.

“You and Wayne could bottle that look and sell it to people who need someone to feel bad for ‘em,” Steve says. He cups Eddie’s cheek in his palm, rubs his thumb against the angry red that turns into a flushed pink. “I don’t know how you could love me-”

“Steve-”

“But!” Steve interrupts. “I know you wouldn’t have said it if you didn’t mean it. And you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t want to be. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t have taken the time to come back here at all, let alone stay with me. I won’t understand it, but I’ll believe it.”

“That was easier than Wayne said it would be,” Eddie’s smile grows slowly, lighting up his face and the room.

“He’s been buttering me up for years,” Steve shrugs.

“Doing all the hard work, more like,” Eddie leans forward, rests his forehead against Steve’s. “He must’ve been sick of hearing me yearn for your love.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You know, you could have come back sooner. You didn’t have to wait until I was convinced I’d be alone forever.”

“And you could have called me to let me know I could visit sooner.” Eddie pokes the tip of his nose with his finger, smirking as he leans away to look back at the apple pie on the oven. “Especially if I could’ve been having apple pie on every break.”

“It might not even be good,” Steve says as he wraps his arms around Eddie’s waist.

“Is there vanilla ice cream?” Eddie pecks his lips.

“Mhm,” Steve kisses his cheek. “And you can have some if you promise to sit down and tell me everything about the band.”

“You wanna waste time hearing about Gareth drooling over every woman who looks his way? We could be making love on the couch.”

Steve raises a brow. “We won’t be making love anywhere but my bed. And it won’t be until we’ve talked more.”

“Fiiiine,” Eddie rolls his eyes, but grabs for the pie cutter on the counter. “Cut me a piece of pie and I’ll do my best to resist taking all your clothes off.”

“I never said you couldn’t do that,” Steve grabs the pie cutter.

“So I can take your clothes off?”

“Shirt only. And after pie…we’ll talk.”

“I thought after pie we’d be done talking.”

“How long are you staying?” Steve asks as he puts the slice of pie onto the plate and hands it to Eddie.

“Four days.”

Steve tilts his head side to side, considering what he can accomplish in four days.

In any other situation, he might be worried about how quickly he throws off his shirt. In any other situation, he would probably insist on talking to Robin before throwing his heart on the plate next to the scoop of ice cream Eddie just put next to his steaming slice of pie. In any other situation, he would take things slow and get to know rock star Eddie who left Hawkins to be someone.

But he’s finding that he’s okay with speed-running things.

He’s got a new perspective on Eddie’s visit, and maybe a new perspective on what their future will look like.

Steve drops his pants. Eddie’s eyes widen.

“Eat your pie. We’ll talk while we make love on the couch.”

[whateversawesome]

Spy x Family Ch. 110: Is Donovan Desmond a Mind Reader and Most Importantly, Is Twilight Doomed?

Nah.

Twilight isn't doomed, this isn't the end. Calm down, there's no need to panic about that.

Think about it for a second, if Donovan Desmond could read minds, the SSS would have arrested Twilight the minute he said bye to Desmond on that first meeting.

A few months ago, when we saw a young Donovan Desmond appear, I did a poll/analysis about whether or not he could read minds.

Even after the most recent chapter, my opinion is still the same: No, he can't.

Some people think that maybe he can get a glimpse into people's past. Although that would be a super awesome power (and it would be one hell of a plot), I don't think it's the case, because that wouldn't really tell him much and I don't think it would have affected him to the point of forcing him to distance himself from everyone.

I do have a theory about him. I've mentioned it before but here it is again:

I think he can tell when someone is lying.

Yup. That's it. A human lie detector. It made sense a few months ago, it makes even more sense now.

It fits his personality, his fixation with liars as a child, it also fits the theme of the whole story (everyone is a liar in sxf, everyone has something to hide) and most importantly, it fits his behavior.

We know that Donovan Desmond did not initiate war with Westalis. Chapman was Prime Minister when the war started and Desmond followed after him. There's a big chance war ended while Desmond was in power. If I'm not mistaken, the war has been over for about 10 years. I have the feeling that Desmond may have launched Project Apple as a means to protect peace.

And how would someone who is obsessed with lies do that? Of course, by wanting to know how others really think at all times.

My guess is that he volunteered himself to participate in the experiments, that would also explain the scars he has on each side of his head (which he didn't have as a child). It's unlikely he was a war veteran, because politicians and people in office never go into a battlefield, so he didn't get those scars in battle.

I think he really tried to obtain mindreading abilities and he failed, but not completely.

Imagine how it would be to have that awareness of people lying ALL THE TIME. How awful it must have been for him to get this power and realize than even his family, the people he felt closest to were lying to him. I think that's the reason why he isolated from everyone. It also fits what Melinda describe in the last chapter:

Let's look at that Desmond family dinner from that perspective. He cannot read minds but he can tell his wife is lying (because she's scared of him and doesn't want to be there!). It also makes sense that Demetrius keeps his mind blank because he suspects his father knows what he's thinking, so he's train himself to not think in front of others.

His behavior shows a person who has completely lost faith in humanity. He pushed everyone away because he didn't want any more lies, and to protect himself but, by doing this, he also ended up hurting his wife to such an extent that she doesn't recognize him anymore.

Since another theme of sxf is getting closer to and relying on people while forming bonds despite their masks and lies, I can totally see this could be Donovan's story, also parallel to Twilight's by the way: You can distance yourself from others to protect yourself but it'll be a lonely life.

Yes, Donovan is safe, guarded from everyone's lies, but he's also missing out on his family's love and also on the possibility of changing the world for the best.

Twilight is going in exactly the opposite direction of him. He's becoming alive, tearing those walls down, learning to rely on others, and loving his family.

Another Important Thing to Consider...

Everyone is so worried about Donovan Desmond possible mindreading powers that no one has mentioned one very important thing: Twilight's purpose for Operation Strix!

THIS is what WISE and Twilight really want to do: to find information that would allow them to remove people who seek war from power.

It's one hell of a strategy and a tough one for sure. And I agree; scandal, especially in such a conservative society like Ostania could do a lot of damage to politicians like Desmond, parties like the National Unity Party, and institutions like the SSS.

It wouldn't surprise me if at some point in the story it actually works. However, I don't think Westalis is as clean as we think. Food for thought.

[loving-family-poll]

Ultimate Incest Tournament - Round 3

Propaganda under the cut

Liam/Noel:

The Gallagher brothers have a very intense relationship that doesn't make any sense to the outside viewer unless one considers the possibility of incest. For 30 years now they have been utterly unhinged about one another in the public eye. Noel has often made incest jokes; Liam once said on-stage once "we had sex last night" referring to him and Noel. Even people writing in actual books and magazines have picked up on the vibes (some stuff that has been printed about them fully feels like it was written by tumblr incestinas except it's like. actual fucking journalists). Also there was this one time in 1996 where they kissed each other with tongue in front of 40 thousand people.

They have been described as “in love with each other” by both themselves and third parties. the lyrics “you’re my lover, i’m your brother.” they kissed with tongue at loch lomond in 1996 and have also been photographed/videoed kissing on the mouth other times. liam regularly groped noel onstage. liam’s entire twitter is just propaganda too. liam talked about impregnating noel once. noel frequently talks about how physically attractive liam is. liam claims that he’s noel’s muse

their song guess god thinks im abel has the lyrics "i could be your lover" while comparing themselves to you guessed it abel and cain. and like. a thousand more instances of them being weird about each other. also noel REALLY wanted a sister and he mentioned it quite a few times and said well liam IS basically a sister or something like that. normal behaviour

Liam literally called himself Noel's good boy on twitter, and called him god a few times after reunion. Noel said he loves make women cry and the only thing that's better is make Liam cry so he can laugh and call him a woman. They literally kissed with tongue and loch lomand is not their only kiss they have two more photos of different kissing to, they literally used the japan kiss video for reunion video. YES THEY DID THAT TF. Noel said they are head over heels in love and said it's illegal in many countries. Also Noel said Liam is like his ex-wife a few times or shit like those cunts are fucking crazy

Other people have described them as more like boyfriend/girlfriend than brothers and said they’re in love. someone on twitter asked liam “if you’re john lennon, who is noel?” and liam said “yoko ono.” another time someone said on twitter “you defo rimmed noel when you were younger” and liam replied “you jealous?"

Deeply weird about each other getting married (them not attending each other's wedding which occurred month apart and then getting divorce around the same time and they stayed at the same hotel for months), intense infamously love-hate relationship and is everyone's favorite soap opera, noel saying "on stage i just wanted him..there's only two of us that will ever get this", prominent theme of shame and crime and impossible dream in noel gallagher works, the elusive meaning of wonderwall which noel insisted is not about anyone but there's good amount of evidence that it referenced back to their childhood and their shared bedroom, liam having mental breakdown several times on twitter about noel, liam's my brother is getting a divorce playlist to which he shared with his 3 millions twitter followers, incest-baiting on main ever since the reunion, brother and lover being interchangeable for noel when writing lyrics, noel (allegedly) lying to liam that his girlfriend cheated on him in order to sabotage their relationship before oasis took off, liam hating noel's latest (ex) wife (sarah), noel writing "the owner of the star on stage" after liam's autograph and so many more insane shit

"[Liam] thinks all the songs are about him. He even thinks Wonderwall is about him." –Noel Gallagher (1997)

"It's all about me it always was and is" –Liam Gallagher (2023)

Japan kiss (kiss is at the end) loch lomand kiss

PLUS they’re back together after 14 years of estrangement! The narrative!

Sam/John:

Overprotective controlling dad, bratty rebellious confrontational Sam, the eventual realization of what John was trying to protect him from, the sad dad puppy eyes

Often overlooked in the Winchester family incest dynamics which is sad because it fucks so hard; John has such complex feelings regarding Sam because his birth indirectly causes the death of Sam and Dean’s mother and leads to the Winchesters becoming like that. John sees the sweet boy he loves and the monster Sam is fated to become, and is torn between saving or killing him. Keeping Sam safe and innocent is one of the main motivations behind John’s terrible, desperate actions; however through the extreme countermeasures he takes, he only manages to push Sam further away and closer to his fate. It’s only after John’s death that Sam begins to understand his actions but also believes John was right to ‘want to kill him’. John may be absent for most of Supernatural but he forever haunts the narrative and his sons, the One True FatherGod of Supernatural

[moriitis]

Please! Create a situation with Toby being jealous! For whatever reason, I love it!

have I proof read this? no. so if you see mistakes, no you don't.

Jealous!Toby Rogers x Reader.

"Thanks Brian," you huffed softly, pushing strands of hair away from your sticky forehead. You were coated in sweat and your lungs burnt as you gasped for steady breaths of oxygen. The dampness of the forest floor beneath you cooled you only a fraction as you felt the increasing urge to peel off your hoodie. Whatever happened was a blur, but a blur that frankly hasn't happened in a long time. It had been awhile since anyone has considered stepping foot into the forest and you'd spent an increasing amount of time following their tracks and observing them within the shadows of the trees and shrubbery around you. Only, to your surprise, the person seemed to have a haunch that you were following and began speeding off into the valley before you; heading further and further into dangerous territory. Trespassers were bad news and by all means, they had to be eliminated, so when this person began sprinting off, the chase was on. Despite their speed, the forest was kind to you as you knew all what lurked deep within the fog and just when you were about to grab a hold of them, you slipped and sprained your ankle. Thankfully enough, Brian was on your trail close behind and thankfully this person did not get away so easy.

It was a rookie mistake and admittedly you were a little embarrassed to let it happen, but the rain from the night before made the ground slick with mud and the many holes that dotted the forest soil was dangerous to even the most simplest of Proxies.

"Don't thank me, it's alright," Brian reassured as he knelt beside you, lifting the cuff of your trouser to assess your ankle better. His lips pursed which didn't really give you much hope for the state of your condition. "Looks pretty swollen," he commented as he reached over to gentle probe your skin with his index finger, resulting in a sharp pain that made you hiss out. He grimaced and shot you an apologetic look from under his eyelashes, turning his attention back to your ankle. "I'm no expert, but doesn't look great." Admittedly, you bit back a sarcastic remark because deep down you were just annoyed with yourself and the situation. With a hesitant nod, you sighed a heavy sigh.

"Doesn't feel too great either," you remarked, forcing a friendly smile to hide the level of pain you were experiencing. Brian could only chuckle dryly as he leant back a little, hands on his knees.

"Think you could walk?" he asked, narrowing his eyes slightly at the question. Your stubbornness ignited the spark inside you to at least try, a part of you not wanting to give in so easily. So, with a little grunt, you pushed yourself up from the tree; only as soon as pressure was applied to your ankle, you slipped a fell back down again. Brian's lips pursed and he gave you a look, pitying you a little. "Guess not." He said, trying to add some humour to the situation in an attempt to make you feel better. Before you could muster up a remark, there was a rustle in the bushes nearby and immediately you felt the urge to jump into action. Only as soon as you made the attempt once again to stand, you collapsed with a pained grunt as Brian stood to his feet. You were both on high alert, a rock held securely in Brian's hand and your knife close to your chest as you glanced out into the darkness; awaiting.

Finally the bushes parted and out came Toby, the familiar beige hoodie, his hatchets in each hand and those orange goggles sat atop his messy, brunette hair. You breathed out a sigh of relief, thankful that it wasn't another trespasser but still irritated at the thought of Toby seeing you like this - as if Brian was bad enough. Toby was panting a little, like he were trying to find you and it seemed his shoulders dropped as he relaxed a little upon seeing you. His gaze flickered over toward Brian momentarily as he assessed the situation before him.

Now you and Toby were in no means together nor had you ever considered relationships since becoming a proxy, but you knew deep down if a part of you had to choose, it had to be Toby. His goofiness, the way he looks out for you, his dumb remarks that make your stomach hurt just from laughing, his hair, his muscles- okay, you were getting distracted and quickly you peeled your gaze away.

"Oh, it's you-you- you guys," he began, lowering his hatchets as he stepped a little closer. His gaze faltered over to your exposed ankle and he raised a brow in interest. "What h-hhappened with you?" he asked, trying to cover his worriedness with nothing but plain, odd curiosity. It seemed he completely disregarded Brian as he knelt down beside you, your gaze meeting with his for just a moment until he glanced away.

"I fell, Brian says I sprained my ankle," you muttered, cheeks flushing a little admitting it out loud. Brian crossed his arms securely over his chest, watching Toby.

"I'm just guessing, it could be broken," Brian chimed in, shrugging softly. He wasn't the expert, anything swollen could be broken or sprained. It seemed Toby wasn't too satisfied with that answer and huffed a little.

"Dummy," he teased softly as his fist jabbed you softly on your arm, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips.

"She can't walk either, so it's good your here," Brian scratched the back of his neck, shrugging softly. He knew he had the strength to carry you, it's just he also knew how damn stubborn you are. Toby glanced up at Brian and back down toward you before standing back up straight, leaving you sat on your damp ass, leaning against an equally damper tree. Pushing his hatchets into the loop on his belt, Toby twitched and cracked his neck before shrugging.

"Alright," he replied nonchalantly. "L-LL-Let's goo," he chimed, Brian and him nodding in unison as they both knelt down to hook an arm under your own. You took support on their muscular frame as they lifted you to your feet, you being mindful not to apply any pressure to your bad ankle. With one arm draped over Brian's shoulders and your other the same on Toby's, you could feel a sense of warmness surround you and your cheeks as you tried to contain yourself. You were between two muscular men and this was the closet they had ever been, you could smell Toby's familiar 'woody' scent, a faint metallic smell that clung to his clothing and with Brian he smelt like strong aftershave. They both handled you like you were fragile, fine china and you could feel their stares on you as you slowly hobbled along in between them. Your heart was beating a million beats per second and you only hoped, prayed that they couldn't hear it. Toby's rough hand was secure on your waist whereas Brian's was more on your upper torso, just almost grazing your breast. Now you knew Brian never had any weird or sexual intentions, it was just awkward placement.. as for Toby, he only had alarm bells going off as he glanced over his shoulder to notice Brian's suggestive hand placement.

Each step you grunted and groaned softly as your foot make gentle contact with the ground beneath you and apparently, it got unbearable as Toby quickly pulled his frame away from you; staggering you slightly and causing you to lean more on Brian's weight. Something that really didn't sit right with Toby.

"This isn't w-wor-w-" he huffed. "Working," he announced, almost agitated as both you and Brian shot him a confused look. You went to open your mouth to say something but Brian already spoke up before you.

"What's wrong?" he asked but Toby didn't answer as he pushed Brian's arm off around you, causing you to almost step back and fall back on your ass. Only before you could, Toby's arm hooked under your knees, his other slipping around your torso and it was there he lifted you bridal style. You squealed a little as he lifted you into the air, causing you to hook your arms around his neck in fear of falling down.

"I can handle this," Toby spoke abruptly as he glanced at Brian, leaving him a little bewildered at what was happening before his eyes. It wasn't all the time Toby acted this way and honestly, it felt a little hostile. Thankfully, Brian wasn't one to lose his temper quick and in fact, caught on to the situation almost instantly. There was a little, smug grin across his face as he crossed his arms.

"Oh, right, yeah, seems you can," Brian remarked, shrugging softly. "Want me to tag along?" he asked but it seemed he already knew the answer.

"No, she's alright," Toby seemingly replied before you could speak for yourself, his grip on you tightening a little. Brian then sent you a smile, wanting to ensure that you were okay with this and frankly, you just nodded slowly.

"Thanks, Brian," you muttered softly, feeling too flustered to form a proper sentence at all. "I'll reach out." Brian only smiled and gave a court nod before disappearing off into the woods, focusing back on his task.

Toby seemed a little distant, cold and frankly it put you on edge a little. So, slowly you glanced up at him and raised a questioning brow. His muscular, tall body swayed a little as he carried you through the forest, where you were going? You had no clue but you had some weird kind of trust in Toby and is intentions, despite his coldness toward Brian.

"What's wrong with you?" you remarked, surprising the brunette a little as he raised his brows. Despite his sudden cold demeanour, there was now a smile tugging at the intact corner of his lips and you only became more confused.

"Why were you t-t-talking to B-Brian?" he asked softly and you were shocked, unsure on what to even say. So your mouth hung agape as you tried to grasp the right words to say, your mind nothing but an empty blankness as you tried to conjure up a remark.

"What? Wh-Wh-" Fuck, you were so shocked you were stuttering yourself! And Toby couldn't help but give you a look that said, 'are you mocking me?' You were flustered and now you were panicking. "What do you mean?" you quickly remarked. "He was just helping." You felt insane explaining this to him, it wasn't like you owned him anything nor did he control who you did or didn't speak to.

Shrugging softly, Toby just pursed his lips before responding: "But you have me."

sorry if this sucks i kept getting distracted heheh

[winchesterwild78]

Second Take pt 1

Master List

Characters: Jensen x Reader (exs), Karl Urban, Eric Kripke, other characters from the set of The Boys

Warnings: Angst, Accusations of Cheating, Physical Violence, Mention of Pregnancy Loss

A/N: Just a story that came to me as I’m dealing with crap. Writing to get out of my head…again. The story doesn’t follow The Boys timeline, and will mention the actors and the characters from the show. You and Jensen had dated when you both worked on Supernatural, now years later he joins The Boys. Can the two of you work together again or will the pain be too much? 

This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. 

Reblogs, comments and likes are appreciated. 

Please don’t take my work and use it as your own or on any other platform. 

Minors DNI 18+

The air in the writing room was thick with tension and anticipation. I hated being in here but loved it just as much. I’d been working with Eric Kripke since Supernatural and was thrilled when he asked me to help with The Boys. 

I was adamant I started as an assistant writer and worked my way up. Eric chuckled, but he wasn’t going to argue. So, here I was sitting in the writing room. The first two seasons of the show were great. The fans loved the show and there was a teaser that went out that hinted Soldier Boy would make an appearance in the third season. 

Eric sat everyone down to discuss who he had in mind. “Okay guys listen up. This character has to be brash and confident. He also has to be charming and good looking. I have the perfect person to fit the role. Most of you have worked with him before, some this will be the first time. He’s an incredible guy and is very professional.” 

Eric’s eyes met mine and a soft gasp left my lips. No, please don’t say it. Please, Eric. My mind raced. 

“Everyone, I’d like you to welcome Jensen Ackles, our new Soldier Boy.” 

My breath hitched. The door opened and in walked Jensen. Looking just as good as ever. Older, but still just as good looking. 

He smiled and glanced around the room. When his eyes landed on me his mouth parted in a gasp and he looked at Eric. Guess Eric failed to tell him I’m here too. 

Jensen greeted everyone and then walked over to me. “Hello, Mr Ackles, glad you could make it.” I extended my hand to shake his. My heart pounded in my chest. 

“Miss Y/L/N, how have you been?” I shifted on my feet. His hand in mine sent a shock of electricity through me. I cleared my throat and swallowed hard, “I’ve been good. Writing again for Eric, so I can’t complain. How is Danneel and the kids?” 

“They’re good. The kids are growing up too fast. Can you believe JJ is almost a preteen.” “Oh wow. Then it’s perfect timing for you to play Soldier Boy. You’ll scare the boys off.” 

He laughed. God I missed his laugh. I looked down and realized we were still holding hands. I pulled my hand back and swore I saw his smile fall. 

Eric got everyone’s attention and said the cast and crew were meeting for dinner tonight to introduce Jensen to everyone. 

Walking out of the meeting I heard Jensen talking to Eric. I was in my head not paying attention and ran into Karl. 

“Oi, Love.” His hands steadied me. “I’m sorry Karl. Just in my head and not paying attention.” 

He smirked, “That’s okay love. You can run into me anytime.” I blushed. Karl is a good looking man and really sweet. If I didn’t have a boyfriend I’d consider taking him up on all the advances he throws my way. 

His thumb brushed against my now red cheek and he smiled. “When are you going to leave what’s his name and run away with me?” I smiled and touched his chest, “Maybe soon, you never know.” I kissed his cheek and went to my office. 

A few minutes later there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” I said not looking up. 

I heard the door click shut and I looked up. Jensen was standing there. “Hey sweetheart.” 

I gasped softly. “Jensen. Do you need anything?” 

He smirked and sat down, “I just wanted to talk.” 

“Okay. Is there something wrong with the character or your trailer?” 

Jensen stood and walked to my side. “No, I want to talk about us. What happened between us. We haven’t talked since that night and we’re about to work together again. I want to clear the air.” 

I swallowed hard, trying to keep the tears and pain at bay. My mind drifted to the day we broke up. 

*flashback*

We stood in our apartment in Toronto. Hours of back and forth, followed by silence. My heart was broken. Jensen, my Jensen was leaving. 

“Jens, why? I thought you were in love with me. We talked about marriage, we’re engaged. What changed?” 

Jensen ran his fingers through his hair. His voice soft and broken, “I know baby. I do love you, I just need to figure some things out.” 

My breath hitched, “Who is she?” Jensen’s green eyes were red from crying, he looked at me and then closed his eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

My heart broke. There was someone else. “Jensen, how could you? You said you loved me.” 

Jensen stood in silence. Anger filled me quickly and venom poured out of my mouth, “Who the fuck is she, Jensen?! If you’re man enough to cheat, then you should be able to own it!” 

His voice low, “It’s Danneel.” I gasped, the tears I had been trying to hold back fell fast and hard. “Of course it’s her. She’s been trying to fuck you for years. You fucked her on set, didn’t you? All those late nights on the movie set were really just you being with her?!”

I couldn’t talk or even look at him. I slipped my engagement ring off and sat it on the table in front of him, then I walked away. 

The last time I saw him or talked to him was that day. It had been thirteen years and the pain was still just as raw. 

“Jensen, I don't think that’s a good idea. We’ve both moved on. You’re married to her and I have someone.” 

Jensen’s eyes flicked to mine, “Oh wow. That’s good. I’m glad you have someone. I just wanted to talk, but I understand if you’re not comfortable with it.” 

I wanted to talk to him. I wanted to ask him why, but I was terrified of the answer. 

“I’m sorry, I’m not ready.” He nodded, “I understand, sweetheart. I’m ready whenever you are. For what it’s worth, I never cheated.” 

I gasped and he walked out of my office, closing the door behind him. 

An audible sob left my mouth. What?! What did he mean by that? 

All afternoon his words played in my head. I never cheated. By the time I got home my head was spinning. The pain and anger was raw. My boyfriend, Charlie, wasn't home and he said he might not be able to go to dinner tonight. 

I jumped in the shower and cried. My heart is breaking all over again. If he didn’t cheat, why did he leave? Why did he let me accuse him of cheating? Why didn’t he fucking fight for me, for us?! 

I pulled myself together and got dressed. I grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a shot. Then another. 

My uber pulled up before I could take a third. I arrived at the restaurant and some of the cast and crew were already there. Karl saw me and walked over, taking my coat. “Ello, love. Where’s the boyfriend?” “Not coming.” My speech slurred a little. 

I lost my footing and Karl grabbed me. “Looks like someone had a little party before she got here. You okay?” 

I nodded yes, “Just trying to drown a ghost.” 

My eyes looked up and I saw Jensen. I bit my lip. Karl looked over and followed my eyes to Jensen. “Oh love.” He pulled me tightly to his chest. 

We all sat down to eat and meet Jensen. Eric introduced everyone and the conversations flowed. Dinner was served and I was drinking a little too much. 

Karl was sitting next to me and after I ordered another drink he leaned over and said “Love, I don’t think you should drink anymore. You’ve had a lot.” 

I looked over at him, “Karl, you’re no fun. Who knows, you might get lucky tonight.” I kissed his cheek. “No love, not like this. We are switching you to coffee and water.” 

Jensen noticed I was drunk and he couldn’t take his eyes off of me. I stood to go to the bathroom and Karl and Jensen both jumped up. Eric looked at both of them and then over at me. 

Erin stood and took my arm. She looked at Karl, “I’ve got her.” He nodded and she walked me to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom she grabbed a paper towel and wet it. “Honey, what’s going on? I haven’t seen you like this in a long time.” Tears fell from my eyes as I sobbed loudly, “He didn’t cheat, Erin. Why did he leave me if he didn’t cheat?” 

She looked confused, “Who sweetie? Charlie?” I shook my head no, “Jensen. We were in love. We were supposed to get married. He let me believe he cheated and then he left. She’s living the life I was supposed to. She had the children I was supposed to have with him. Erin, I can’t do this. I can’t work with him. I still love him.” 

She wrapped me in a tight hug. “Oh honey, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know.” “I need to tell Eric I have to quit. Jensen is irreplaceable. He was born to play Soldier Boy. Jensen will make that character his own and bring in so many new fans. You’ll see. I love you guys so much, but I can’t do this.” 

I stumbled to the door and Erin followed me. Walking to my chair I grabbed my stuff. Eric, Jensen and Karl looked at me. They saw my face was red, puffy and tear stained. 

Eric walked over to me, “Hey kiddo, you okay?” I shook my head no, “I’m sorry Eric, I don’t think I can do this.” He hugged me, “Get some rest, we’ll talk later.” 

I walked out of the restaurant and heard someone call my name from behind me. I know that voice. I turned and saw Jensen standing there. “Jensen, go inside. This night is about you. I’m going home. I drank too much and I need to sleep it off.” 

Jensen closed the distance between us, “Baby, please talk to me.” My lip quivered and my heart fluttered, “Jensen, I’m not your baby anymore. You have Danneel and I have Charlie.” “Y/N, please. Please don’t walk away from me again. Please talk to me.” 

I spun on my heels, “Walk away from you again?! Jensen you cheated on me, or at least you let me think you did. I tried to get you to talk to me and you wouldn’t. Then you marry her, have children with her. She’s living the life I was supposed to. The life you promised me. I didn’t walk away from you, you walked away from us. Then you come here and tell me you never cheated!? What the hell am I supposed to do with that?!”

He lowered his head a little, “I know. I’ve been a fucking coward, but I swear I didn’t cheat on you. I loved you. I love you. I always have and always will. I needed time to think because I developed feelings for her, or so I thought I did. After you left I did go back to her because I was scared of being alone. We got married, but it’s always been more of an arrangement than an actual marriage. I don’t regret having my children because I love them so much, but you should have been their mother.” 

Jensen closed the distance between us and cupped my face, “I’m so fucking sorry. Sorry for not fighting for us, for our future. I love you, Y/N.”

I looked into his green eyes so full of hurt and regret and all the love I’d buried deep came bubbling to the surface and before I could stop myself my lips crashed on his. His hands grabbed my waist and pulled me close. 

We pulled away when the need for air became too much. I touched my lips and the realization hit me hard. I just kissed him and he’s married and I’m with someone. I’ve now become the other woman. 

“Jensen, I’m so sorry.” I started to climb in the Uber and Jensen grabbed my arm, “Baby please don’t go.” “Jens, we both know if I stay we will cross a line that shouldn’t be crossed.” He let go of my arm and nodded. I climbed in the car and watched him as the car drove off. 

My heart pounded in my chest. My phone went off and I pulled it out of my bag, it was a text.

Jensen: Y/N, please let me know when you get home. I need to make sure you’re safe.

I sat just staring at the message. I didn’t know what to say. When we kissed I felt all his love, all my love pouring into each other and filling each other. I knew I couldn’t work with him now.

Another message pulled me out of my head. 

Charlie: Hey babe. I’m almost home. Sorry I missed dinner. I can’t wait to hear all about it and your new Soldier Boy. 

Me: I’m almost home too. I can’t wait to see you. 

The Uber pulled up a few minutes later. I walked inside and noticed Charlie wasn’t home yet. I pulled out my phone and took a deep breath.

Me: Hey, just wanted to let you know I’m home. I am sorry for the kiss. It was a mistake and it won’t happen again. 

Jensen: …

I noticed the dots kept appearing and disappearing. A lump formed in my throat. I was staring at my phone when I heard the door. Charlie walked in and set his stuff down. 

He crossed the room and pulled me in a hug and kissed me. This kiss felt so different than Jensen’s. “I missed you today, baby. How was your day?” I was about to answer him when my phone went off. I looked down and saw a notification of a message from Jensen. 

I glanced at the message.

Jensen: Thank you for letting me know you’re safe. Don’t worry about the kiss, but please don’t call it a mistake. It was incredible.

My breath hitched. “Y/N, is everything okay?” Charlie asked with concern in his eyes.

“Yeah, we need to talk.” The two of us sat down and I took a deep breath. “Baby, you’re scaring me. Is everything okay, are you okay?” 

I nodded, “So our Soldier Boy is Jensen.” Charlie looked at me in disbelief, “Like your ex fiancé, Jensen?” 

I nodded. “Okay, well that’s okay baby. I trust you.” 

The tears fell. He grabbed my arms and held me tight. “Shh baby, it’s okay. I know he hurt you.” “Charlie, he told me today he didn’t cheat on me and it hurt. I drank too much and before I left the restaurant tonight I poured all the hurt and anger out. Then I um, I kissed him. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened. I just kissed him.”

Charlie sat in silence. Taking in my confession. “Charlie, please talk to me.” 

His blue eyes looked at mine. Filled with betrayal and hurt. 

“Do you love him?” “What?” “Do you still love him?” 

I didn’t know what to say. “I um, yes I do, but I love you too.” 

His hand cupped my face and wiped my tears away, “I know you do, but I don’t think you’re in love with me. I think you’ve always been and always will be in love with him. I love you, Y/N and I want you to be happy. If it’s with me that’s great, if it’s not then I want you to be with who makes you happy. I deserve to be the first choice, not the second one.” 

I looked at him. His face trying to hide the pain he felt in his heart. “I’m so sorry. I never meant for this to happen.” 

He took my hands in his, “I know. That’s not who you are and that’s why you told me about what happened. I love you, Y/N and hope you get everything you deserve and more. You deserve to be loved and happy.” 

He kissed my forehead, stood up and walked to the bedroom. I sat on the couch crying. 

A few minutes later he walked out with a suitcase in hand. “I’m gonna stay with Alex. I’ll be by tomorrow for the rest of my stuff.” 

He walked over to me and I stood up. He pulled me into his arms and hugged me. “I’m so sorry, Charlie. I never wanted to hurt you.” He cupped my cheeks, “Hey, Y/N, no don’t do that. Yes this hurts, but I understand. Jensen was your fiancé and you never got closure. Maybe you need to get some. I’ll always be here for you.” He kissed my lips, grabbed his things and left. 

I collapsed on the couch, pulled myself into a ball and cried. I eventually cried myself to sleep. 

The next day at work I stayed in my office. Eric said he was coming by to talk. I didn’t know how to tell him I needed to quit. 

I sat at my desk waiting for Eric when there was a knock on my door. “Come in.” 

Jensen opened the door and looked at me. “Hey, we need to talk.” I nodded and he sat down. “Jensen, I want to tell you what happened last night won’t happen again. I’m sorry. I’m going to tell Eric I can’t work on this project anymore. You’re irreplaceable and I don’t want them to lose you.” 

He shook his head, “Don’t do that. You’ve worked so hard to get to where you are. Please don’t throw it away.” 

“I’m not throwing anything away. He’s got other projects I can work on, or maybe I can work from home.” 

As Jensen and I talked my office door flew open. We both jumped and standing at the door was Danneel. Her chest heaving and she looked pissed. “D what are you doing here?” Jensen asked. 

She didn’t answer, she crossed the room, walked up to me and slapped me across the face. Jensen jumped up and yelled her name, “Danneel, what the hell?!” 

My hand covered my face where she hit me. My face is red hot, stinging and throbbing. 

“You bitch! How dare you kiss MY husband. He chose ME! We have children together.” 

I was in shock. "Danneel, I'm sorry. I didn’t mean for it to happen. It was a mistake.” 

Jensen was in between us. “D, what the hell? You can’t just go around slapping people.” “Jensen, I had to explain to our family why there are pictures of you kissing another woman all over the internet. Your hands holding her tightly and you kissing her back. Not to mention she’s your ex fiancé. How could you do this to us?” 

She showed Jensen the picture. Someone took it last night and it went viral. 

This must be why Eric wanted to talk. 

Danneel started to leave as people gathered outside my office, “Stay the fuck away from my husband.” She turned on her heels and walked out the door. 

Jensen looked at me and said he was sorry and went after her. 

I stood in my office crying and feeling like a fool. This was my fault. I kissed Jensen. I deserved the slap. I deserve so much more. 

A few minutes later Eric was at my door. “Y/N, we need to talk.” I nodded and he shut the door. 

“Eric, I’m sorry. I never meant for any of this to happen. I’ll pack up my stuff and leave quietly. I never meant to hurt anyone or cause any trouble.” 

Tears fell fast and heavy. “Y/N, I don’t know everything that happened between you and Jensen all those years ago, but I know none of this is your fault. Yes, I saw the picture last night, but I also saw the pain on yours and Jensen’s faces. I’m not here to fire you or ask you to leave.  I’m here to check on you.” 

That broke me. I sat and cried. “Eric I fucked up. I kissed Jensen last night. I’m still in love with him but he’s moved on with Danneel. I don’t blame her for slapping me. I deserve it. I broke up with Charlie last night. I’m just so alone, so tired of being sad and not enough. I thought Jensen loved me. I was going to marry him, have his children. I was pregnant when we split. I lost the baby about a month after he left. I never told him. I was so broken after losing him and the baby. I couldn’t tell him I lost his baby. Then Danneel gave him three beautiful children. How do I compete with that? I wanted to grow old with him. Damnit, I deserved happiness. I deserved everything we promised each other.” 

I didn’t know Jensen was standing outside the door listening to me. My confession about the baby made him gasp. I hadn’t told him or anyone about the baby. 

Eric stood and walked over to me, pulled me into his arms. “Shh, it’s okay. I know. I’m so sorry you lost your baby. No one should have to go through that, especially alone. Y/N, you need to talk to Jensen and figure out what you two want. No matter what you two decide I’ll support it, but the two of you need to figure it out. I love you both, but I can’t tell you what to do. Go home, rest and I’ll see you in a few days.” 

I tried to protest, but he wouldn’t let me. “Your job is safe Y/N. I have worked with some great writers, but you’re one of the best. I’d be a fool to let you go. Go home and reach out to Jensen.” 

I nodded and he started to walk out. Eric closed the door behind him and gasped when he saw Jensen. “How much of that did you hear?” Eric asked Jensen. Jensen’s eyes filled with pain and tears, “All of it.” Eric placed his hand on Jensen’s shoulder, “Go to her and figure out what you two want. You have to let her know truly how you feel about everything. That woman in there loves you and is so broken. Go fix this Ackles.” 

Jensen nodded and Eric walked away. Jensen took a steady breath and knocked on the door. “Hey, sweetheart, can I come in?” 

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[your-unfriendlyghost]

Short fic about steviepop, Soda’s various inner turmoils, and Dallas Winston fucking with things. I’ll probably cross-post this to Ao3 but idk- it’s shorter than most of the fics I have up on there, only a bit over 1k words. So we’ll see.

This is a direct follow up to the fic abt the gang on a roadtrip I wrote last month, but you don’t r e a l l y need to have read that first- the point is they’re at a motel and Soda and Dally are awake while everyone else is asleep. Tw for period typical attitudes

-

Steve wasn’t supposed to leave Tulsa. That wasn’t the plan.

  Soda takes a swig of pop. It tastes funny, ‘cos it’s all mixed up with the smell of ol’ Dally’s cig and pool chlorine. 

  Dally hops the fence into the pool area, ignoring the Do Not Enter sign. Soda trails after him, wondering faintly why he is- but eh, he doesn't really care all that much. He’s nearly eighteen now, anyhow, so he can’t get Darry in trouble or threaten his guardianship or nothing. Ha, he’s kinda missed this. 

  He chances a glance upstairs at his and Steve’s room. Steve can’t be getting into trouble now though. Not if he wants to go to college with Evie…

  “D’ya think I shoulda stayed in school?” Soda asks, following Dally down the walkway around the pool. 

  Dally gives him a dull look, like seriously? You’re still talking to me?

  “I just mean, ‘cos, like, Steve and Evie did,” Soda presses on. “And now, y’know, they’re…leavin’.”

  Dally raises his eyebrows, amused. “You realize it don’t take a high school diploma to move, right?”

  “Huh?”

  “I mean, you can just…go with them- you know that, yeah?” Dally snorts.

  Soda frowns, a weird sick feeling bubbling up in his gut. “Yeah…I guess,” he says noncommittally. 

  The thing is, he can’t go with them.

  He’s gotta keep his job, and he’s gotta be there for Ponyboy and Darry. That’s what he does. Where will they be without him?! They’ll just fight, won’t they?

  He swishes the cola in his mouth, thinking about it. Just before he left on this trip they fought. Not badly, but Ponyboy was behind on a few assignments, wound up with a D in his algebra class on his report card. 

  Soda had walked out into the hall, duffle bag in hand, ready to meet Steve at the door, when he saw Darry sitting at the table and Ponyboy crossing his arms at the counter.

  Soda’s heart sank. Report cards were in, huh. 

  Darry hadn’t said anything, but you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t real thrilled.

  Defensively, Ponyboy had said “Well it ain’t like I’m failin’, okay?”

  Darry nodded, glancing at Soda. “Yeah…I s’ppose.”

  “I’m passing still,” Ponyboy had muttered.

  “Yeah. I know. Colleges…they just don’t much like Ds, that’s all,” Darry said, attempting to be delicate. 

  “Well you try bein’ a year ahead in school!” Ponyboy said then. “Ain’t any other high school sophomore who’s fourteen!” 

  Gently, Darry said “Do you think you oughta maybe…re-do the grade, then?”

  Soda cringed, hard. 

  Ponyboy’s face got real red. “Re-do the grade?!” he’d snapped, voice going high and squeaky. “For one D?! That’s ridiculous!”

  Darry scowled. “It’s your future! I ain’t sayin’ you gotta, just that maybe you could consider it!”

  “Oh you’re one to talk ‘bout the future, roofer-man,” Ponyboy muttered under his breath. Soda thanked the lord that Darry hadn’t caught it, and threw himself between the two.

  He’d calmed them down decent enough, but it was just a bandage on a bullet wound. As he drove away with Steve, he swore he could hear them starting to row again.

  Soda sighs and swallows his drink.

  “I’m serious, man,” Dally says, glancing at him out of the corner of his ice-blue eye. “Ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ ya from followin’ your uh…” Dally smirks, pursing his lips. “...your buddy and his girl to Arizona.” He says buddy all funny-like, and Soda frowns.

  “Maybe there ain’t,” Soda concedes, just to end the conversation. “Maybe there ain’t.”

  “Hey, Curtis,” Dally says, an unreadable look coming onto his face. He tosses his empty soda bottle into the pool with a splash, and Soda would scold him for that, but he finds he’s frozen. He usually likes when Dally gets that hoodish look in his eyes, because it means things happen- but when they’re pointed at him they’re like spotlights. “I know what y’all do, you know,” Dally continues, corners of his lips tilting up.

  For a second, Soda almost thinks he heard him wrong. “Huh?” he breathes.

  “What, Evie don’t share her makeup-concealer how she shares her boy?” Dally says, voice too calm. Soda’s stomach twists violently, and he shoves his hands into his pockets to keep them from flying to his neck- if he fixes his collar, it’ll be a dead giveaway. 

  “What’re you on about?” Soda says, forcing his voice to stay even.

  Dally snorts, looking at Soda head-on. “Jesus, man, and here I thought yous was just playin’ dumb.”

  “Shut up, Dally,” Soda says, smiling a bit like it doesn’t matter. “You ain’t got any clue what you’re sayin’.”

  “Don’t I?” Dally says, leaning forward boldly.

  Soda resists the urge to lean away, and stands his ground. “You’re nuts, buddy,” he says, patting Dally’s shoulder. 

  Microscopically, Dally flinches away, and Soda’s heart drops into his shoes.

  “I ain’t…I ain’t queer, Dally,” Soda says softly, hand hovering away from Dally. 

  “Like hell you ain’t,” Dally scoffs, lunging forward. For a second Soda tenses, thinking Dally’s gonna punch him. But instead Dally seizes Soda’s collar, and peels it back. 

  He points at the little red marks Evie and Steve left on his neck and shoulders, and Soda feels his whole face go red.

  “See?” Dally says, grinning.

  “What are you saying?” Soda growls.

  “Whaddaya think I’m sayin’, Curtis? You think you and Steve are subtle?” Dally laughs. “You think it’s normal, sleepin’ on his shoulder, on his lap, in his bed?”

  Soda opens his mouth and closes it. No no no no-

  “You’re crazy, Winston,” Soda manages, backing away. “I got these back in Texas.”

  “Yeah, I know. Got ‘em from Randle.”

  “Got ‘em from some girl! You think you’re the only one who goes to clubs?” Soda demands.

  “Oh yeah, Johnny and I do, and so does Two-Bit, but you? If you ain’t Randle’s side piece then you’re still his dog, wantin’ to follow him to Arizona!”

  “As if you wouldn’t do the same for Johnny!”

  Dally falters then. “That’s- that’s different.”

  “Like hell it is,” Soda says, digging his heels in. “You and Johnny share a room, in all the motels, and back in Tulsa, too. Steve and I ain’t messin’ ‘round, and that’s real obvious ‘cos Two-Bit is always there and he’d tell ya if we were. But you and Johnny…”

  “Don’t you go talkin’ like that about me and Johnny, we ain’t like you, Curtis. I don’t give a damn what you and Randle do, but don’t you go implyin’ things about Johnny, man,” Dally hisses, lips curling back over his pointy animal-teeth.

  “Then don’t go sharin’ your freak daydreams about me and my best buddy,” Soda snaps back, and he tries to ignore the sickening churning in his guts. “About my best buddy and-” he tries not to wince- “-his girl.” 

  Because Soda doesn’t have a girl. Not when they’re not behind closed doors. Steve’s only Evie’s boy, and she’s only Steve’s girl, he reminds himself, hoping the conviction keeps Dally at bay. Maybe if he thinks it hard enough it’ll be true, just for right now. 

  Dally only glares at him, icy eyes hard. And Soda glares back.

  Unsurprisingly, Soda breaks the wordless stare-off first, and hops the pool fence to head back up to his room.

  “Hey Curtis,” Dally says to the back of his head, and Soda bites down the urge to spin around and sock him. “I really mean it- I don’t care what you and Randle do. I really don’t. Alls I’m sayin’ is to be careful, man. ‘Cos you know well as I do that some folks care. Folks a whole helluva lot more uh…keen-eyed than me.”

  Soda swallows, glancing back at Dally. His eyes have sorta softened, at least to the coolness of a rainstorm instead of ice chips.

  And, voice shaking more than he’d ever admit to, Soda says “I can’t use Evie’s cover-up stuff. She’s a whole lot darker than me.”

  Dally smiles, or smirks, or something, and Soda turns away, still dizzy with the weight of the secret. 

  He doesn’t have to ask to know Dally won’t tell anyone. He’s a real ass, but he’s always got his back where it counts. Soda almost feels bad for ever having doubted him.

[pepstarvanmoon]

I hope this doesn’t come off as me nitpicking Milkvan interactions, but these lines just comes off as odd to me.

In the show, leading up to the store scene, nothing Mike says or does regarding Max comes off as particularly jealous to me.

He gets upset with Max for taking El to the mall (not Max giving him a segway into complimenting her new style (which he does later), and he just gets mad at her instead lmao.)

He spends the beginning of the following episode pitying himself with Lucas enabling it.

“What did I do wrong?” - LIED, plain and simple. He acknowledged that before they went to the mall! El gave him a chance to explain yourself and he DIDN’T. Teenagers, man.

“Then I should be with my species more” - I guess implies spending more time with Max and her having no desire to get back with him. Mike is pissed about the spying (rightfully, imo), and obviously frustrated that him explaining himself didn’t lead to El forgiving him.

Max and El spending too much time in the bathroom, “they’re conspiring against me” - confused as to how he reached this conclusion given what we’ve seen. It’s like he just HAS to say something about it, nevermind El getting her shit tossed last episode. Listen to Will and worry about something else.

Bro is lowkey more mad about being single (and therefore ambiguously straight in Mike logic) than about El and Max being friends.

When he admits that he was jealous and wanted El “all to himself,” it sounds more like an excuse than an explanation.

We know what jealousy looks like in Stranger Things.

If anything, this “jealousy” is more closely aligned to how Dustin described Lucas’ jealousy of Mike and El’s relationship in season one.

I even tried to make an argument for Mike wanting El to himself minus the jealousy, but throughout the season it kinda fell flat.

Showing up late to movie nights (more than once) to hang out with El longer.

Ditching Dustin (the day of his return) and the others to spend more time together before El’s '4PM curfew' (a lie, ofc)

Maybe switch “conspiring” for excluding? Then you could argue he felt left out, like he’s not the closest to El anymore. However, the responses to his “conspiring” accusations were 100% negative.

(This could also play into how he felt getting stuck in the back of the car with Will, but that ventures outside the point of this post)

None of these are considered good things if Dustin, Lucas, and Will’s annoyance are considered, and Max going from “it’s romantic” to high-fiving El after she dumps Mike… yeah.

You can certainly say he’s frustrated. He’s never been in a relationship and therefore has never been broken up with, but Mike explains it like the reason he’s acting irrationally is because he’s 'never felt like this before'? But besides the whole ’Nana’ thing, that’s not really true?

Stupid stuff being 1) lying about his Nana being sick, 2) claiming girls are a different species.

Angry, sure. Jealous? Wanting her to yourself? Don’t make me laugh.

It’s all a bit hypocritical to me, too. So El can’t have ONE day out with Max, but Mike can run off with the rest of their friends while she’s stuck in Hopper’s cabin. Okay.

And, in this specific case, I don’t really buy the “she’s hiding from the government” excuse because it clearly wasn’t that big of a deal for El to have gone out that day. Mike’s concerns were brushed off, and there were no scenes with Hopper reinforcing that (we had our fill in S2 ig).

(I personally think they didn’t want any interruptions to that Elmax scene because it demonstrates how little El knows herself, and being cooped up by Hopper and Mike, though it’s sweet that they want to protect her, isn’t helping her developmental growth.)

Like damn if you really feel that strongly about it, you all could’ve had a movie night in the cabin, but Mike can’t balance his relationship and his friendships, and STILL can’t now!

Well, at least you got that part right.

(Post pretty much ends here. Rest of it is me rambling)

All of this relationship bullshit skydives out of Mike’s mind when Will gets upset btw. UNTIL he mentions girls, then Mike gets defensive.

That whole part of the rain fight gets to me, like Mike truly believes that this is a staple part of his life, getting a girlfriend and abandoning his interests. He can’t date El and play DnD, and if he’s dumped, his priority becomes getting her back instead of reflecting on what happened.

He proves he didn’t have a firm grasp on the situation when he victimizes himself, and when he actually admits to lying it doesn’t matter at that point. El already knows and DOESN’T CARE.

He’s really not confident. Lucas got a one-on-one, mirroring Mike and El’s, scene with Will to apologize, because the relationship drama is no longer important to him in that moment.

(I didn’t think Lumax broke up, but Will said in ep 3 that they both got dumped? Lucas seemed a lot less bothered, and by the time they got to the hospital scene they seemed fine lol. Lumax ‘breakups’ aren’t really taken as seriously anyway with the whole “five times” thing)

Funny how both apologies go unacknowledged because what’s done is done. They don’t care anymore (for Will, I don’t believe that for a second but yk) and there are bigger things to focus on.

It's brought back up in the hospital, but MIKE is the one who doesn’t care that much until El uses her powers on the vending machine as an “olive branch" (in Lucas' opinion, anyway).

I feel like there’s a lot to say about Mike and taking initiative versus when he has to be told to do something, but more on that another time.

[curiositydoorunlocked]

That post I made about S4 pushing Will’s sadness was one made in jest. It was just a little joke post. I clicked the “post” button, closed the tab in my browser, and moved on with my very serious life. No more jokes for me.

But then something happened; permit me tell you a little story entitled “I spent too much time on YouTube, send help.”

…okay, now I’m done with the jokes 😅

In all seriousness, though: I’ve been watching a lot of ST reactions on YouTube lately and they’ve only served to show me just how effective that “WILL IS SAD! WILL IS SAD!” strategy was.

For real! Of course I haven’t seen all the S4 reaction videos out there, but I’ve watched far too many to reach my weekly screen-time goal, ugh plenty, and the trends were pretty damning. Every single creator I saw said “poor Will!” at least once during their watch. More often than not it was multiple times, actually. They were all rooting for him, feeling for him; they all saw his sadness, put the pieces together re: why he was sad (relatively) quickly, and went “No! Stop! I don’t like that Will is sad!”

This attitude was generally present across the whole season’s worth of reactions, but there are still some interesting takeaways re: what people responded to most that I’d like to share with you all.

First off the cartop talk in the desert seemed to resonate across the board. It wasn’t always included in videos, probably because it was a quieter scene sandwiched in between the gang literally burying a body, but when it was included it usually got a big response. Lots of nods and empathetic comments made at “…because what if…what if they don’t like the truth?” The van scene also hit hard for everyone, and I mean everyone. My personal favorite was this one dude that teared up and said something along the lines of “We’re only ten minutes into this episode, chill out!” while wiping his eyes!

Most of the reactors had a much stronger response to the Mike and Will scenes—and the associated Will sadness moments, of course—than they did the Mike and El scenes. Those elicited more frustration than anything—plenty of “God, why can’t you just say it, Mike??”s. One woman even gasped when Mike threw away the “From, El” note.

People smiled at the few cute moments El and Mike had; they empathized with El’s insecurities; they sighed at Mike’s hamfisted maneuvering.

What they didn’t do? Seem, well… invested. In the relationship. At all.

Even the cooing over Mike and El’s (very sweet) reunion was frequently overshadowed by joy at El and Will’s fraternal hug.

(It’s almost like putting something last telegraphs to the audience that it’s the most important…crazy how that works!)

But to wrap things up before this post gets too long…

I know “the talented creators of this historically well-written show decided to take the story in a particular direction and executed it such that it achieved the desired response from viewers” isn’t exactly a shocking revelation. Even still, it was nice to see, especially considering the following:

Most of these reactors were confident Will’s feelings wouldn’t be returned. The opinions were never phrased cruelly; they were always more along the lines of “it’s so sad that Will is in this situation, poor guy. I wish he could be happy but it doesn’t seem possible.”

In an odd roundabout way, those nervous, “where is this going to go?” vibes are omnipresent on Byler Tumblr too. (Or at least that’s the sense I’ve been getting since I returned from my hiatus—apologies if I’ve terribly mischaracterized you all!) I get that a lot of people are worried about the potential execution of a Mike/Will relationship, especially because the characters involved are so intertwined with the supernatural plot. We may see the writing on the wall re: the destination, but that doesn’t mean we know exactly what the journey will look like.

But guess what? These writers know how to disengage the audience from a couple that isn’t working, and engage it in a dynamic that is. They know how to stir up empathy for characters in different contexts. They know how to bring new information—in this case, Will’s feelings—to light and get people on board ASAP. These reaction videos are very encouraging proof of that—and in case it needs repeating, I watched so many of them, so I should know. (Why? God only knows.)

If these reactors were presented with a solution to this “problem” that would allow Will to get what he wanted without hurting anyone else… well, I’m confident they would jump right on board. And so would we, of course.

So, all of that is to say I encourage you to set the nitty gritty of it all aside every now and then. As a bunch of Youtubers have kindly demonstrated for us: everything’s going to be just fine 🙂

(And if you read this long for what was essentially just a positivity post, I commend you LOL. Thanks for sticking it out with me!)

[kameyyy]

KENJIRO SHIRABU X READER

c/w: cursing, a bad haircut, uh yeah that's it i guess, maybe grammar issues idk

a/n: NAWT my best work fr. Please do not percieve. I need AGES to write a fic, multiple crash outs and one day just isn't enough for it </3

word count: 872

please consider leaving a like, reblog or follow if you enjoyed !! <3 @phantasmaebg

Friday

7:47pm

The foyer of the local movie theatre was an assault on the senses. 

The red carpet, faded and worn in some places, stuck to the soles of her shoes with a tacky residue of spilled soda and crushed popcorn. The fluorescent lights overhead buzzed faintly, reflecting off the glossy movie posters that lined the walls, advertising upcoming blockbusters and indie films. 

The air was thick, a suffocating mix of burnt butter, synthetic candy, and the faint tang of cleaning supplies that never quite masked the underlying scent of thousands of moviegoers. Families bustled around, kids clutching oversized sodas and candy bags while parents corralled them toward the exit. Groups of friends laughed loudly, their voices competing with the steady hum of the crowd and the occasional blare of a ticket scanner.

God, how she missed her apartment.

Her attention snagged on a nearby group animatedly discussing a spoiler-filled plot twist from a movie she’d been planning to watch. She frowned as she caught snippets of their loud conversation, shifting uncomfortably as the soles of her shoes peeled away from the carpet with an unpleasant squelch each time she moved forward in the line.

It was her day off, one she usually cherished. Normally, she would’ve been curled up on her couch now, a blanket draped over her legs, with a home-cooked meal and the soft glow of candles illuminating the coffee table. But instead, she found herself here—waiting to buy a ticket for a movie she already couldn’t remember the name of, surrounded by strangers who all seemed far more enthusiastic about being there than she was.

Her wandering thoughts were interrupted by a voice nearby, crisp and clear over the surrounding noise.

"I’d like a ticket for... Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, thanks."

She glanced sideways, her eyebrows knitting together in mild curiosity. The man speaking was about her age, dressed casually in a blue cardigan over a white shirt and dark jeans. His sandy-colored hair caught the fluorescent light as he turned slightly.

Then she noticed his bangs.

“Who the fuck cut your hair?” she muttered under her breath, a grin tugging at her lips. "I’d sue."

To her horror, he turned, his sharp gaze locking onto her with an incredulous expression. “Excuse me?”

Her grin vanished. “I said the movie is shit.” She adopted a blank expression, heat creeping up her neck as she tried to cover her slip-up.

“No, you didn’t,” he shot back, one eyebrow arching.

She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. “Yes, I did.”

He gave her a long look before turning away with an exasperated sigh and heading toward the snack bar. She stepped forward in the ticket line, her shoes making their signature sticky sound she despised, and focused on the task at hand.

“Hi, I’d like a ticket for...” she began, fishing her phone out of her pocket to check the chat with Goshiki. Her lips tightened as she read the message. “...Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.”

As the cashier handed her the ticket and she queued up for the snack bar, the same man’s voice chimed in from a few feet away. “The movie’s shit, but you’re still buying a ticket for it?”

She glared at him, half-smirking. “I’m a double-faced person, didn’t you know?”

“Ah. Sure.” His tone was as dry as the popcorn she could smell from the counter.

She sighed and muttered, “And I didn’t pick the movie. My friend did. No clue why he thought making me cry on a fucking blind date was a good idea.”

“Vulgar much,” he quipped with a pointed look.

She rolled her eyes again, turning her attention to the snack bar’s brightly lit display. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to commit to the crunch of popcorn or stick with a drink.

“Wait... Did you just say blind date?” he asked, his voice cautious.

“Yeah,” she replied with a nod, not looking at him. “Why?”

He hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m here for one, too.”

She froze, a horrified expression creeping across her face. Slowly, she turned to glance at him, her eyes trailing to his unfortunate haircut. “God, I hope it’s not me,” she muttered under her breath.

His face twisted in frustration. “Who took a shit in your coffee this morning?”

“Wow, vulgar much,” she shot back with a smirk, throwing his words right back at him.

“Piss off,” he groaned, turning away and mustering the display.

After a moment’s deliberation, she decided on nachos and a diet coke, but the encounter still nagged at her. She turned to him as they waited for the line to progress. “Are you a doctor?” she asked, trying to confirm her worst fears.

His eyebrows shot up, pausing a moment before replying warily. “Why do you care?”

Her stomach dropped. “Oh my god.” She slapped a hand over her mouth, looking away in disbelief. Maybe there was a camera team hiding somewhere. “I will strangle Goshiki.”

The color drained from his face as recognition dawned. “You’re kidding.”

She shook her head, still processing. “You’re the guy Goshiki set me up with, aren’t you?”

He groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Fantastic.”

NO TAGLIST this is bad. I feel like a robot hhhhhhhh. it's midnight forgive me guys.

©kameyyy all rights reserved. please do not repost my work.

[possamble]

farcille postcanon characterization warmup that got way out of hand. beware, here be spoilers, dragoncock, and bottoming as an extreme sport.

~~~

Marcille has always loved Falin’s voice. Soft, high, airy and girlish—it was always as gentle as the rest of her, even in the midst of pitched combat. When things went to hell in a handbasket, it was always Falin’s whispery incantations that kept Marcille grounded as blood and monster guts sailed through the air. 

And that hasn’t changed. No amount of dragon could really change that, Marcille thinks. Yes, she she has moments when her voice becomes rough and ragged and guttural, mostly when she’s swinging her mace or her fists, or gritting her teeth through a monster claw stuck into her side. But maybe that urge to growl was always there, and she’s just finally able to voice it now. Marcille finds that she’s loud at times she would have been silent before—grunting with exertion when she would have grimaced quietly, singing some nonsense melody over a mundane task when she would have hummed it under her breath—and that’s a good thing.

But otherwise, nothing has changed. Falin’s voice is as delicate as ever, chiming in a lilting giggle behind a dainty gesture of her hand. Rustling like pages of well-loved books as she casts her protective wards, or ponders over how to cook a new monster, or murmurs right into Marcille’s ear while she…

Well. While she’s got Marcille bent over her own desk with her nightgown pooled at her ankles. Marcille’s not sure if it’s rude or considerate that she didn’t get a chance to dress herself before she had a girthy cock shoved up her cunt first thing in the morning. 

“Marcille,” Falin whispers, unfairly shaky as if she’s the one getting fucked within an inch of her life. She’s mouthing at Marcille’s neck, draped over her and pressing as close as possible in every way, gripping Marcille’s hands tight and keening like she’s found heaven between her legs. “Marcille, Marcille…” 

It’s not fair. It’s not fair that she gets to do that, that she gets to sound like that—with that sweet voice she’s always had, now making obscene little noises that are still whispery fine and almost ethereal coming from her mouth. These quiet, barely voiced sighs that puff against Marcille’s ear, the dulcet moans that thrum against her skin, and that demure little gasp when she thrusts a little harder and somehow finds even more space inside Marcille to bottom out in—

“Marcille…” she whimpers like she’s in pain, on the verge of tears, fingers tight between Marcille’s as they grip the edge of the rattling desk together. “You feel—so good, oh… You’re”—another moan buried just behind her ear—"so wet, so good…” 

It’s not like Marcille got the chance to be anything else right now, did she? Not when Falin fell upon her just as she was sorting through her documents, pressed against her back and already unfastening the clasps of her gown and slipping it off her shoulders. She was fully naked before she even got a playful good morning whispered into her ear—it’s a miracle she had the forethought to push her papers out of the way just before Falin had her wrapped around her finger in the most literal sense. 

Well. Fingers in the plural, really, since she always starts with two. Usually while pawing at Marcille’s tit with her other hand until her stupid knees give out and she ends up buckling over whatever surface is nearby—in this case, her desk, mercifully free of any uncapped inkwells at the moment. Now slathered with sweat that makes her tits slip and slide along the wooden varnish, of course, but otherwise non-disastrous. 

Hopefully her nightgown is catching most of the mess running down her thighs, or she’s going to have to make the most humiliating request to the castle staff about her carpets for the third time this month—

“Yes…!” Falin digs her heels in and fucks her even harder, taken with some kind of mindless momentum all of a sudden. “I love you,” she pants in that stupid—feathery, daisy-light tone that has no business being this sweet while she’s ravaging Marcille like this— “you’re perfect, you’re perfect—” 

Marcille’s going to die like this. This is how she’s going to go: Bleating like an animal with her cheek stuck to her desk with drool, eyes just permanently rolled back in her head, toes barely touching the floor as Falin keeps fucking her further onto the desk. She hasn’t said a single coherent word since her second orgasm however many minutes ago, just broken into an endless stream of guttural noises as her cunt slobbers and squelches around Falin’s cock almost as loudly as she’s wailing. 

“Marcille,” Falin keens, sounding like a bashful princess ravished to breathlessness—just something straight out of a high-minded erotica novel—all while hammering Marcille into the desk at a shallow, breakneck pace. “You feel—feel s–o good, you’re perfect, oh—oh, you’re perfect, you’re beautiful, I love you, I love you—” 

For the love of—fuck. Marcille can distantly hear herself scream, can feel the desk digging into her as she flails, her grasp on sanity getting thinner and thinner with each word that tumbles out of Falin’s mouth and shoots straight through her nerves. She’s—good god, she’s not usually this talkative. It’s almost always Marcille begging and blabbering about how much she wants Falin’s cock, how good it feels, how she wants it harder and faster and more, screaming and crying Falin’s name over and over—

But now, in the absence of Marcille’s pathetic yapping—after she’s already fucked the words out of Marcille so thoroughly—Falin’s taken it upon herself to murmur a stream of honeyed nonsense into her ear, her frail and gentle voice breaking with desperation—and fuck, it’s not fair.

“Yes, yes, oh—” Falin sobs into her neck. “I love it—I love it when you sound like this, I love you—you’re so good, so good for me, my Marcille—” 

No, no, no, she can’t do that, she can’t do that—she can’t say that, in that voice, while her cock is so deep in Marcille there’s hardly room for anything else, battering all her nerve endings and rearranging her so that there’s nothing left but her, Falin, Falin—

“Ah!” Falin cries out, like she’s the one getting reamed against her stupid fucking desk so hard she can barely breathe— “Yes, please, please—please say my name again!” 

Well. She can beg all she fucking wants, but it’s not going to be pretty and she has no one to blame but herself—it’s her fault Marcille can hardly speak, it’s her fault her name is only coming in rough wails with both syllables separated with heaving, crying breaths. Marcille gives it her all, scrapes whatever intelligence she has left to speak, and sounds like a dying animal in a way that can’t possibly be anything but hideous to listen to—

And still, Falin sobs, as if in utter ecstasy as she fucks Marcille so hard the desk starts scraping along the floor in harsh jumps. 

“Yes, yes—ah—” Her voice, not so whispery gentle now but still so melodious and clear, sounding out from deep in her chest— “I—love—you—” she weeps, punctuated by the hard slams of the desk against the floor as she drops the rapid pace in favor of mercilessly hard thrusts— “Beautiful—perfect—mine!” 

Then she finally, finally comes—not that it stops her, not with how she thrusts with every spurt. Like she’s not just satisfied with letting it spill out, like she needs to fuck it into Marcille with all her strength, once, twice, then one last time, stuffing her cunt absolutely full with searing heat—

And Marcille doesn’t even realize she’s coming until she’s unceremoniously ejected out the other side of the high, that telltale swoop of vertigo rushing through her veins. The orgasm doesn't even have the grace to let her go limp with afterglow, of course, and she’s left there convulsing and twitching like a drowning fish. With her jaw pressed to the desk, she can actually hear her teeth chatter from how hard she’s shaking, Falin’s warm weight on her be damned. 

(One day. One day, she’ll stop embarrassing herself like this—one day she’ll finish like a normal person during sex, instead of going off like a cheap firework every half hour and wringing an orgasm out of herself as soon as she feels Falin finish inside her, whether or not she even had one left in her to begin with.) 

“M-Marcille,” Falin stammers, her voice breathless but now shy and girlish again as she slowly untangles their hands. “Are you—are you okay?” 

The gall. To ask her that, when she’s nothing but a sweaty carcass slung over her desk, still twitching erratically. To be so gentle as she straightens up and kisses the back of her neck, tenderly brushing her hair to the side as she pulls out ever so slowly—

And still. Not. Slowly. Enough—apparently! Not with the sparks that explode in Marcille’s eyes again, utterly unclear if this is another orgasm or just a particularly brutal aftershock! She just goes squeaking and shaking and sliding off the desk onto her knees, hands clapped over her cunt like they’re going to protect her from the lightning racing up and down her spine. She doesn’t even know where she landed, really, convulsing and closing her thighs around her hand as cum and slick drools into her palms, falling forward and— and smacking her head against the edge of her desk.

“Oh!” Feathered arms clasp around her before she can slide past the wood with her sweaty forehead and land on her face. “Careful—are you okay?” 

The gall. The audacity. The—something, or whatever, fuck, Marcille doesn’t even care anymore. Her head throbs with an oncoming bruise, she can’t feel her legs, she can feel her pussy way too much, and it’s a wonder she hasn’t fallen apart on the spot—

“Okay… let’s…” There’s some maneuvering going on, but hell if Marcille can actually tell what Falin’s doing. “Here, let’s take a bath—I’ll go draw some water.” 

Marcille whines, because no—she doesn’t know where she is, she just twists until her face finds feathers and buries herself there. She even manages to bring one cum-covered hand to grip at the quils, because this mess is Falin’s fault and if she doesn't like it then she can wash it off herself—but she’s not allowed to leave. 

A little chuckle under her breath—and it’s so fucking cute and girlish like she hasn’t just demolished a full grown woman to the brink of unconsciousness, but Marcille can’t even find it in herself to be mad. Falin can ask her whatever the hell she wants, do whatever the hell she wants, so long as she doesn’t let go. 

“I’m bringing you with me, I promise,” Falin whispers so tenderly, pressing a kiss to Marcille’s head. There’s arms tightening around her back and under her knees, and she feels herself being lifted. “I wouldn’t leave you like that…” 

Better not, Marcille grumbles to herself. Not sure if it made it past her mouth, but it doesn’t matter. Falin’s going to take responsibility for turning her morning into—into this, even if it means having to draw some bathwater with an elf clinging to her the entire time. She’s going to be the one to wash her off, bring her their missed breakfast, and tell everyone why she wasn’t there at the morning meeting—

Maybe not that last part. 

“I’m sorry,” she hears, in that soft and whispery tone she’s loved for so many years. That voice that didn’t change, even with everything that happened—everything that Marcille did to her, and it’s—

It would be so, incredibly stupid if she started crying out of nowhere. 

“Liar,” she whines, digging the indignant annoyance back up to pout like a spoiled brat. “You liked… every second…” 

Another giggle that so infuriatingly lovely. “I did.” The sound of a squeaky valve turning, then rushing water that slaps against stone. “Did you?” 

Marcille just grumbles again and clings even tighter. Falin just laughs a little louder and strokes her hair, too kind to demand an answer in so many words—or, perhaps, impishly content to let Marcille incriminate herself with her silence, as she so often does.

[dxxtruction]

its probably meant to be somewhat ambiguous but it seems most likely that armand was gaslighting louis so that he didn't trust himself and daniel didn't trust him. he also seemed to basically get what he wanted by instigating a fight and igniting some passion, we see by next ep's start it probably got resolved with sex and absolution. idk the talamasca angle is not as interesting a story

Ask is in reference to this post: HERE

That's cool. You're able to hold that I'm able to hold mine. Interpretations are just that. I will say it doesn't matter whether Armand planted them, or not, because he still ends up gaslighting Louis in the 2x04 argument anyway. It’s effectively gaslighting even if they are telling the truth here as they see it because of how things stack up and what's said.

It is basically how you said, and I'll just go ahead and expand for anyone who might not see it so clearly. Initially, it seems he's more or less trying to just get Louis off his case for the photos, and is willing to throw him, his mental state, and character under the bus, to do so. But Louis already straight up knows him of doing manipulative things, of this exact sort, in the interview before this event even occurred - Namely that Armand is making himself look far more approachable, and better to Daniel, even after they'd both agreed to basically tear this guy to shreds, which makes Louis look worse by default, and goes against what they agreed to both do. Armand has a repeated tendency to fall through on his promises, or promise things, but then take it his own direction when it suits him. In all cases, he does keep obstructing Louis interview, especially when it comes to Daniel, and won't fully admit to it. - this is why Louis' so reactive, among just the fact he has trauma related to being denied his own interiority, fullness, and freedoms, because he's Black, and in society, seen less human. Armand simply doesn't help his case by denying it, even if it were actually his truth that the photos weren't his doing. (Note; Armand has also faced horrific dehumanizing traumas, but in such a differing way I don't think he's able to empathize with the same way Louis been dehumanized in life. I argue a little if Louis is even able to do more than simply hold a lot of sympathy for Armand, as they really are not a lot alike in both their interior and exterior reality. I don't think that sympathy goes both ways often.)

The way he's also keeps behaving like the bigger person in this reinforces the belief Armand wants out of Louis, making him 'see' it, and probably also to Daniel as well who's definitely overhearing this (this particular part has a chance of being unintentional however, if he was only really intending to deescalate, but it still keeps the same effects).

Not only making Louis look like he's crazy to assume it, but denying he'd been doing anything wrong of the sort (by simply at no point coming forward and saying something reassuring of Louis reality along the lines of, 'I have been doing those things, it's just not this, and those weren't my intentions to hurt you with it, I'm sorry' or simply 'okay, I did it, sorry'). As well, it doesn't matter how much Armand's truthful, Louis is someone who necessarily does need reality checks like that, because he suffers from hallucinations, and as he's finding out, memory lapses, and not providing them will make him jump to presume it could be his own symptoms. Also, at one point in the argument, he actually throws out that Louis is insane, if it needed to be anymore obvious. Which is derogatory, if arguably true, though reinforces that Armand's behaviors to 'stop or aid his madness' in prior instances were all a-okay, and all necessary. There's nothing wrong with him, and what he's doing, its all Louis. (His intentions to deescalate, if anyone wants to take on that idea, would've changed by then. It reads as a pattern to me mimicking of the promises falling through.)

Anyway, I'd be saying in my interpretation that him willing to keep this up, even though the photos had nothing to do with it, just shows how much he'd actually use any situation that arises to manipulate/control Louis, and mess with Louis interview, as opposed to orchestrating or planning situations, so he can then also manipulate with it. With all intentions or not, it doesn't really matter. Which makes his manipulation more realistic, honestly. A better portrait of who Armand is tbh.

I don't claim this transcript as 100% accurate, but it's as close as I can get it:

L: Four Fred Steins in the album, four. You made me look foolish. 

A: You just assume it was me. 

L: Well, it wasn’t me. 

A: You sure about that? 

L: Excuse me?

A: I take it back. 

L: Take it way fucking back. 

A: It was probably an honest mistake from the staff.

L: You think I need to be coddled, hyped up, lied to? 

-cut-

A: You’re being Lestat! 

L: Go call on him, see what happens. 

A: A little ridiculous… It's the staff, dear.

L: I’m being ridiculous? You wanna see, you wanna see ridiculous? 

A: No, Louis, it was an honest mistake. You knew it.

L: AAAH

A: You weren’t here- 

L: LA LA LA LA

A: -And more and more of them-

L: LA LA

A: They got through! 

-flashbacks-

A: This isn’t about Lestat! 

-more flashback-

L: You lobbed at Daniel, and disrespected me. 

A: no no no no no no.

-flashback-

L: and over and over and over it’s always the same damn thing. 

A: You trying to trick me?

L: I don’t know I’m just your God now. The abandonment, and aren’t we both cut throat? 

A: You won’t believe me, when I was here. I’m the one who can see! 

L: Alright, first off, first off. 

A: You are insane! 

-fb-

L: You always do this! … We’ll be done with Daniel any day now. Now, knock it off. Its about the record, this is my interview. You hear me? The whole interview that will be heard by me. 

A: In a future that you won’t see!

-fb- 

L: No more! Will you go to speak without asking first. No more! Will you ever flirt around on your years. 

A: Oh, come to Dubai, Louis says, but not me. 

-Then I can’t make out anything-

Sex and absolution I do agree with as well. Like they did do that. I don't think either were expecting it to go that way from the beginning, though, as in neither started or orchestrated a reason for argument just to have makeup sex. That being somewhat normal for them after a big argument like that would not surprise me however. A certain interpretation I take of them having sex after (given the argument) was more that (it seems to me) part of the accusations here is that Armand is 'flirting' to win over Daniel's favor, and trying to get with him? Maybe even back together with him? (Centered a lot around Armand telling him his little love story with Lestat.) If not, just turning him against him. So having sex could reinforce Armand had/has no intentions of leaving, further obstructions wrt Daniel, and/or infidelity. That it's 'me and you' and not 'you and him'. (Which could be the real lie depending on how you want to take it here lmao. And is so bound to fall through because... Armand doesn't keep his promises, not even to himself it seems since he turned Daniel).

Again all interpretations are just that, so long as it can be legitimately supported by the text, and isn't grossly insensitive. The Talamasca just adds to the whole scene to me more than it detracts from it. The outside world necessarily has influenced both of their inside worlds, and further how they interact with each other in both, and is the cause behind of a lot of their behaviors and reactions. Talamasca causing those to erupt sort of points to that. It's real. The whole narrative actually feels more concrete and like there's a world outside who can still influence them if they were the one's doing it. Sometimes I feel people want to center Louis a bit too much in the story, which is fair, it is his story, he has a narrative that should be centered, but it is also other people's story as well. They are playing roles here in it.

Also this is why I really wonder if they'd ever revisit this? I'm a little peeved about it being so hidden tbh. There seems like so much added context and we're denied most of it from the music and constant flashbacks. Fingers-crossed maybe Daniel was recording it? IDK.

[waugh-bao]

I found a little gem of a video on dailymotion. "Equidia chez Charlie Watts des Rolling Stones"

I think its the first time I've seen anything where Charlie and Shirley are talking to one another, at least audibly. It is wonderfully cute.

This is so lovely! I saw a version of it years ago, but it was much shorter and the quality was so poor that I never bothered to post or gif it. It’s a shame we don’t have more footage of them interacting because they’re exactly as funny and cute as one would expect. (Also, sorry about how the thumbnail looks. If you click on the video to play that header and the control buttons will disappear after a few seconds, there was just no way for me to screen capture the first bit of the video without them).

Also, I’m not a dog person, but I love the Wattses rescue dogs. Especially this girl who is so emo about her mum and dad not paying 100% attention to her.

[leori-the-unlearned]

the way digimon does conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: chef’s kiss <3

the way sonic idw handles creating conflict/drama between two characters who should be or are close: *wilting flower*

[faggotfungus]

Some of y'all really truly enjoy seeking out shit that you know makes you uncomfortable, then goin onto other peoples blogs and bein like,

"Please stop interacting with this thing that I've personally deemed icky gross disgusting, and if you don’t you're reprehensible and morally bankrupt. Love you! Just letting you know! 😘"

[lipstickontheglass1985]

honestlyyyy i lowkey need to burn down my smartphone

[dream-sans-mogai]

Anyway, because I'm considered a bigger creator within the mogai community and I have a responsibility to address things given my bigger audience-

Please remember that Tumblr, especially LGBT Tumblr concerning discourse and intracommunity issues, is a hyper niche, reactive, violent, sensitive community with next to zero basis in reality at large and you should not take any of its opinions as absolute fact. Especially the mogai community's opinions.

A lot of people on mogai Tumblr talk big game with very clearly fake the-whole-bus-clapped stories about the real world concerning acceptance towards mspec monos, Neopronouns and Xenogenders and it's my job as an adult and guiding voice to remind people these experiences may happen but rarely do and you absolutely should not just tell random people you use purr/purrs pronouns or your a bi gaybian or you identify as Chronosian or other things like that because it's really fucking dangerous even in hyper progressive places like new york, cali and Detroit. It can be deadly in many many small towns, including ones in progressive states. Especially dangerous in non accepting states.

I don't say this to burst your bubble or ruin your hopeful world view but many stories of acceptance are fake, even if some are true, most of the community is underage and just cause your teacher may approve of your Soniccharic identity, doesn't mean they won't tell your transphobic parents. It's scary and dangerous out here for trans and gay people rn and I won't be one of the idiots who tell you to run and frolic with your Xenogender pins Infront of increasingly hostile transphobes. I want the younger gen z trans people to survive and I won't lie to you about the reality of the battle we all are staring down concerning project 2025.

Most of the people telling these stories live in progressive states and do not tell you about the failed times or exaggerate the acceptance they supposedly received. I'm telling you from the mouth of someone who grew up in a tiny town in South Ohio with less than 1,000 people, it's still just as dangerous as it was 10 years ago. I still get followed in my home town. I still get stares in my home town. My actual home town, a place I grew up in where people knew me as the gnc dyke for a good while in my last 2 years of school. Do not spread this shit around to everyone. Nex didn't think they would become a victim, Brianna didn't think she would be one of the unlucky ones, plenty of those we've lost did not think they would die in hate crimes. I almost died in two of the hate crimes I've experienced.

You need to be really fucking careful and although I love than Neopronouns and Xenogenders are becoming more accepted by the larger LGBT community, you need to be very very VERY careful about what you do, what you wear and who you tell what because word spreads fast in suburbia and hate spreads faster. You do not want to be wearing a pin the day some white cishet magat decides he's tired of the "pedophiles" and chooses you as the first victim because you were the first he saw. Don't hide who you are but Be. Fucking. Careful.