#I love Dakota with my whole entire heart

[sunnys-side-upside-down]

Dakota, my boi!!

[anachronistic-falsehood]

EPISODE 4 (starting here because there wasn't a whole lot of background info in 1-3 because they were still just getting used to playing their characters!! this is the end of harttawa arc):

- if dakota had succeeded the roll to stop vyncent from stabbing wavelength, he wouldve taken the damage from grabbing the blade and stopped it and they wouldnt have had to make the choice between who to save!

- charlie was NOT planning on revealing the wisp form that early but he was too emotionally invested in beano and wanted to protect him (which made choosing him to die later was REALLY hard)

- "william has a very complicated realtionship with death" << im just gonna leave you that quote. putting it on ur doorstep like a cat with a dead bird

- bizly had two separate plans for how the session would go based entirely on whether or not they befriended beano (which!!! they have another little oneshot series on the patreon called what if where they will go back and play non canon sessions of different like. alternate routes. and they did one where this happened :])

- charlie coming up with the idea for william and discussing him with bizly was supposedly the first time in his life he had ever pulled an all nighter (which? is insane). because they just kept throwing ideas back and forth and talking about scooby doo and danny phantom (!!!) and they ended up actually playing out a little bit of his backstory in character

- there was a little retconned bit about william where a few strands of his hair turn white every time he uses his wisp form. which. hello trimax vash. what if i went insane. this is supposedly "not canon anymore" but its something i hold in my heart so dearly

- wavelength was supposed to be so much tougher and scarier but bizly rolled so bad for him: "he was supposed to be COOL he was supposed to be SCARY. HE SUCKED HE DIDNT HIT YOU ONCE."

- tide showing up at the end was supposed to serve as a reference to show just how much more powerful Actual Superheros are than these kids. bizly specifically had tide use his powers a lot more obviously and frequently during that scene than would be normal for him *specifically* so that theyd be like "oh fuck" and it worked :]

- they levelled up bc its the end of an arc!! theyre now power level 6 (i think. i dont actually remember. they might only be at 5 at this point) !!!

IM GONNA ANSWER EVERY SINGLE ONE OF THESE <3 awww charlie got attached to beano enough to reveal william's wisp form early. dude. honestly i would have done the same <3 beano i miss u

william has a very complicated relationship with death. 🧍 what could this mean. i mean i KNOW he's got a complicated relationship with death but I DON'T KNOW THE FULL EXTENT OF IT I THINK.

i understand why wiwi is ur favourite guy. that is danny phantom in a different font. AND he's got a white streak in his hair (idc if they retconned it to be noncanon it's canon 2 ME!!!!!) like this is literally mac ghostiezone core. william wisp is ur kind of fucking character. fork found in kitchen

MARK CANONICALLY AN ABSOLUTE FUCKING LOSER BECAUSE BIZLY ROLELD SO BAD FOR HIM <3 CRINGEFAIL DAD <3 HE ABSOLUTELY SUCKS <3 and tide showing up at the end like an angry father i love him so much. the single mother of all time <3

[aylacavebear]

Dimensional Shift - Chapter 4 S4E1 (pt 2)

Story Summary: Maria was just a regular girl, worked at a gas station, wrote fanfic, and loved Supernatural. She even created her own supernatural creature for her writings. When the aurora borealis comes to Sioux Falls, South Dakota, one Halloween night, everything changes for her in ways she never expected. Will she be able to navigate this new world she's thrown into?

Word Count: 2725

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will eventually be 18+!

Warnings: Angst, some Fluff/Comfort.

A/N: I broke S4E1 into a few chapters, so they weren't such a long read all at once with what was added to them.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 4 - S4E1 (pt 2)

Bobby and Maria woke early, with the sun, having some coffee and breakfast before heading out to Dean’s grave. They had a few hours before it would happen, so they began digging.

They didn’t pull his coffin out or even open it, not yet. Maria explained that because it was an angel that would be raising him, they had to get back from the area, as it would end up looking like a nuclear explosion had gone off around his grave. Bobby understood, so they went a good two hundred feet away, sitting on a log and drinking beer, waiting.

When it did happen, it was like lightning had struck Dean’s grave, and the shockwave knocked both Bobby and Maria off that log. 

“Looks like we weren’t back far enough,” Maria chuckled when she got up.

Bobby just looked at her and shook his head a bit before they walked over to Dean’s grave. Maria’s heart was pounding when she heard movement. Bobby’s eyes widened as he pulled open Dean’s coffin, astonished to see Dean alive and breathing. Although Dean looked just as stunned at first. Bobby looked from Dean to Maria and knew at that point her story from the day before had been the truth. Dean’s eyes followed Bobby’s as Maria was standing just above his grave, her arms crossed, holding onto her biceps, tears slowly falling down her cheeks.

“What did you do?!” Dean growled; hoarsily as he began climbing out of his grave, ready to seriously yell at her.

“Whoa there, she didn’t do anything. It’s a long story. Let's get you back to the motel room, and we’ll explain everything,” Bobby told him, holding his shoulder to keep him from lunging at Maria.

Dean was somewhat confused, but he didn’t believe Bobby either, giving Maria another glare, to which she looked away from him before walking back to her truck, not saying a word. What could she say that he’d believe at this point? As far as he thought, she made some kind of Demon deal to get him out of the pit.

Ever wonder what it’d be like to end up in your favorite television show? Yeah, definitely not like you’d picture it in your head, and Maria was attempting to come to terms with that. She was again having an internal battle between feeling like a fangirl and wanting to squeal while also wanting to just throw her arms around him, thankful he was alive.

“Bobby, what the hell is going on?” Dean almost demanded, his voice still hoarse.

“It’s not what you think, although the truth is gonna blow your mind,” Bobby answered as he handed Dean a bottle of water, which Maria had brought for him, knowing he’d be thirsty.

Dean and Bobby climbed out of the grave, and it did look like a nuclear explosion had gone off in the area, his grave the center point. Dean downed that whole water bottle, and Bobby handed him another one. Maria was leaning against the passenger door of her truck, her legs crossed at the ankles, her thumbs in her pockets, staring at the ground as the two of them walked towards her direction. 

Maria had gone from starstruck at seeing Dean in that coffin to feeling hurt to just wanting to disappear, thinking she’d made more of a mess by saying something to Bobby the day before. She did love Dean, but coming from an entirely different world, she had no idea how to act right now. She should have known that he would react the way he had; it was how he had reacted to not only her but also Sam and Bobby in her fanfic.

This time, Dean went up and hugged her, which threw her off, but she hugged him back, and that was when his scent hit her. She’d forgotten about how well she could smell, and her body instantly reacted to him, but she somehow managed to keep it to herself and not let it show. Maria put her arms around Dean, hugging him back.

“Look, I may be pissed, but I’m glad you and Bobby were here,” Dean told her, and his tone was softer than she had expected. 

For a moment, she almost wanted to ask what Bobby had said to him on the walk back to the vehicles but chose not to, not wanting to know, but figured it had something to do with how much the three of them missed him over the last four months, “I really didn’t do anything, Dean…” Maria whispered just before Dean broke the hug between them.

She had to think back to her world and how the ‘show’ went from this point on, where things were at and where they were headed, and how things would be different with her being a part of it now.

“Come on, let’s go see Sam,” Bobby spoke up, helping to break up the tension that had formed in that moment. So far, he was the only one who knew her new secret.

Dean rode with Bobby as Maria followed them in her truck, her mind still racing as she attempted to figure out how to calm her racing heart. She could still smell his scent on her from that hug. It had been one thing to write about being a Touched, but to experience the abilities firsthand was slightly overwhelming. “Well, if I ever get back, I’ll be able to write better,” Maria mumbled, smiling a bit. 

Then she wondered if she’d even want to return to her boring life where she only wrote about things like this and had lived more in her fantasy world and fanfics anyway, instead of real life. At that moment, she decided to embrace this gift she’d been given. She would enjoy it for as long as it would last, hoping it never ended. Even though she knew what would happen in this world, she wondered how much she could change for the better and if it was possible.

The reunion at the motel went how she had expected. Sam was happy to see his older brother alive again, but now, it was time to tell the brothers the truth of where Maria “came from,” hoping it wouldn’t change the dynamic that would have been there otherwise. Her heart was pounding in her chest, her nerves shot, but Bobby sat next to her on that motel bed, his arm around her shoulder, encouraging her. She suspected that Bobby had said something to at least Dean on the drive back to the motel, as Dean had been looking at her a little differently since they had gotten there.

Maria couldn’t even look up at the brothers; her gaze stayed on that ugly orange carpet of the motel room between the beds as she explained her world, what she did there, and that the place she was now was a show, sort of, but more like a fanfic she had written over six months ago. She didn’t want to see the reactions on their faces if they looked at her differently. Of course, being in the same room with Dean was hard enough for her, as his scent only seemed to permeate the air around her, which made her breath quicken, which she just said was her nerves.

“You’re serious, aren’t you…” Sam finally asked, perplexed and intrigued simultaneously, taking the words right out of Dean’s mouth.

“Yeah…” She replied quietly, rubbing her hands together between her knees.

“Well, you’re still my little sister, no matter what world you come from,” Sam told her, smiling before he sat next to her, giving her a side hug. 

“Ooff…” was about all she could manage before she smiled, chuckled a little, then hugged him back.

“Thanks, Sam, that means a lot to me,” she told him, closing her eyes momentarily. Sam had his scent, too, but it only made her think of how books smelled. The scent of death and sulfur was there now, too. The demon blood, she thought to herself, really had changed him, and her smile faded a little. She knew she couldn’t say anything to Dean, not yet, at least; it wasn’t time.

“So, you’re telling me that an angel named Castiel, pulled me out of the Pit?” Dean finally asked, annoyance, relief, and confusion written all over his face.

Maria sat up and looked over at Dean for the first time in what felt like hours now, and there were those green eyes she had only ever seen through a television screen. Seeing them in person, there was so much more life to them, the way the light in the motel hit them from time to time, almost making them sparkle for that moment, which made a small smile tug at the corner of her lips.

“Maria,” Dean said, somewhat annoyed, which snapped her from her thoughts.

“Yes, Dean, that’s what happened. Please don’t ask Pamela to look for him either. It will blind her because of his angelic light.” She replied, too honest for her own good.

“I was just about to suggest that,” Bobby said, slightly perplexed.

“I know…” she answered, looking down at the floor again, worried about how her words were going to change things, putting them in somewhat uncharted territory. Hell, the angels had to know what was going on, didn’t they?

“So, how do we get in touch with this Castiel character?” Dean asked, sounding annoyed, asking Maria more than Bobby. “Umm…” she wasn’t even sure how to explain it to him, not really, but at least tried.

A bowl or dish filled with various materials, most of them akin to leaves, herbs, or petals, set before a circular sigil. Four lines separate the sigil itself into four areas or quadrants. Each quadrant contains a different Enochian symbol or letter. Outside the circle, four other Enochian symbols are written. Four lit candles are placed atop the four quadrants, and four other objects are placed at the farthest points outside the circle. A trinket placed near the dish is also required. To complete the ritual, the summoner must set the materials in the dish on fire. Once the materials are lit, the angel appears instantaneously in the immediate vicinity. 

The four of them went back to Bobby’s, sifting through books to find what was needed. It took them a few hours since Maria knew how to focus their search efforts, being not of this particular world. They prepared everything and went to a barn resembling a metal hanger than what Maria would consider a barn. She was only partially looking forward to this. However, she worried because she knew how Castiel was in the beginning and the events that still had yet to unfold.

As soon as everything was set up, the bowl was set on fire, and sure enough, Castiel appeared just outside the barn, and he didn’t look happy. Angels didn’t show emotions, and Maria didn’t care for them much. In her world, on the show Supernatural, Angels were cruel, almost heartless creatures. Still, Castiel eventually came around, becoming kind and a part of the family with Dean and Sam, but that was still a couple of years away, and Maria knew this. Maria moved behind the table where the summoning spell was, knowing that Castiel could easily knock all of them out with just the touch of his fingers to their forehead, and she wasn’t about to have that happen.

“So you’re the thing that pulled me out of the pit. Why?” Dean asked, not wasting time with small talk, wanting answers.

“We need to talk alone, Dean,” Castiel said, moving to Bobby and Sam, touching their foreheads and putting them to sleep for now, “They are just sleeping.”

Maria had managed to avoid Castiel so far, which he seemed somewhat annoyed with. Every time he would get close to her, she’d move away quickly, even when he flew, which looked more like teleportation than anything to Maria.

“Hold still,” Castiel told her as he approached her again.

“I don’t think so. I want to be awake for this. Besides, I already know why you pulled Dean out of the pit, but he needs to hear it from you.” Maria retorted, dodging him again.

Maria’s words made Castiel stop and just look at her, blinking blankly for a moment. She also knew Castiel’s Angel powers wouldn’t work on her, not with what she was. She had to permit him and had no intentions of doing that either. At least, that’s what she hoped had carried over from her fanfic. She just didn’t want to explain much to Castiel, not right now. Castiel tried again, but again, Maria dodged him, using her cat-like reflexes and agility, and was now standing behind Dean, who had just been watching, finding the little interaction slightly amusing, even chuckling once.

“Fine,” Castiel said, and even though his tone was fairly monotone, it was clear he was annoyed. He was standing near the back of the barn as he looked over at Dean and Maria, “I’m not a thing. I’m an Angel of the Lord, and I raised you from prediction.” 

“Get the hell out of here. There’s no such thing.” Dean stated dismissively, as he still was having a hard time even believing that angels were real.

“This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith,” Castiel said.

Lightning flashed on the back wall of the barn. Maria and Dean saw the shadowy appearance of Castiel’s wings stretching across it. As soon as the light went out, the image disappeared. For Maria, she was in awe. It was one thing to watch it on TV, but to see it in real life, in front of her, was completely different. “Certain people, special people,” Castiel began, but looked directly at Maria when he said special people before he looked back at Dean, “can see my true form and voice, others cannot. It can be… overwhelming to them.”

“How about we don’t test that,” Dean stated, unsure he wanted to know.

“I hoped you might be one who could perceive my true visage,” Castiel stated.

“And what visage are you in now, huh? What, holy tax accountant?” Dean asked as he nodded toward him, which made Maria chuckle.

“This? This is… a vessel.” Castiel said as he looked down at his body.

“You’re possessing some poor bastard?” Dean asked, disgusted.

“He’s a devout man, he actually prayed for this,” Castiel tries to assure.

“Well, I’m not buying what you’re selling, so who are you really?” Dean asked angrily.

“I told you,” Castiel said, frowning.

“Right. And why would an angel rescue me from Hell?” Dean asked.

“Good things do happen, Dean,” Castiel replied.

“Not in my experience,” Dean said.

“What’s the matter? You don’t think you deserve to be saved?” Castiel asked.

“Why’d you do it?” Dean asked, ignoring Castiel’s question completely.

“Because God commanded it. Because we have work for you,” Castiel replied.

Castiel looked over at Maria, sensing something was different with her, something more than just the fact that she was a Touched, but for now, it was not time to say anything to any of them. Angels had their own chain of command and right now, Castiel was a “good soldier” who obeyed faithfully, not questioning anything about where his orders were coming from. Then Castiel flew off, even if it did look more like he had just teleported away. 

Dean turned to Maria, “Okay, so I believe you on coming from another world now.”

Bobby and Sam began waking up before Maria could respond to Dean, and they went over to them.

“What’d we miss?” Bobby asked as Dean helped him to his feet.

“We’ll fill you in on the drive back to your place,” Dean told him before helping Sam up. Maria had cleaned up the summoning items and began loading them in the car, staying silent, feeling worried and unsure of how things would end up playing out because she’d already changed things. The three of them chatted a bit while they headed to Dean’s Impala, his Baby. Maria climbed in the back seat, behind Sam, Bobby to her left, while Dean drove. He told them both what had happened when they were out, thanks to Castiel.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 5 S4E2 pt. 1

Dimensional Shift Master List

Main Master List

[bizlybebo]

Tide and Mark Winters

They're just two dads doing what they think is best for their kids

THEYRE. JUST. TWO. DADS. DOING. WHAT. THEY. THINK. IS. BEST. FOR. THEIR. KIDS. AUAUGUGUGUGGUGHHUGKRJKIELJKTNQKWIGKHY4IWORJGHBTJIQUTGKWIOEJGKRWHIOPGELKJEG

hold on i have an unfinished rant about dakota and mark from earlier that i decided to throw in the drafts cause i sound like a broken record in it. their rivalry means so much to me though.

i genuinely don’t think i’ll ever be okay again about dakota and mark actually.

you take these two people who are both immovable forces, and they’re on the opposite side of practically everything. young hero-in-training and an old weathered villain. rambunctious kid who makes mistakes and a father who’s just doing his best.

and they fucking hate each other.

dakota’s not a very hateful person. yeah, he can resent people’s actions, but he’s only truly hated very few people or things; that which can be classified as nearly 100% certain evil. something without a chance of redemption or rehabilitation. he had an entire character arc about facing his morals and learning to look past his kneejerk reaction of anger and vengeance.

but he hates mark.

they’re two people who absolutely cannot stand each other but they have one common goal, one thread that unites them: ashe.

they love ashe in different ways. mark is a father, and dakota is a best friend. they both know ashe so well and would do anything to save her.

mark just has different methods.

mark’s never known justice like dakota has. he’s never had the luxury of a hero training program. no matter what, the law will see him as what he is: a villain.

all mark cares about is bringing his kid back home, safe and alive. even if ashe hates him. even if ashe can never look him in the eye again. he just wants his kid back.

he’d kill, and has killed, for his child.

mark knows that he’s seen as an irredeemable monster, so he leans into it. used that as a shield.

despite this, though, there’s something.

a faint glimmer, a spark of hope.

dakota cannot stand mark. he thinks he’s cruel and immature and incapable of listening to anybody else, incapable of getting out of his own damn head.

but dakota still thinks mark can change.

i’ve talked about this specific thing before, but it still just. hits me so hard. i cant not talk about it.

dakota, who knows grief and guilt like no other, who went years knowing his heart was ticking on borrowed time, still thinks that mark can change.

he’s optimistic to a fault. he wants mark to turn over a new leaf, maybe with a new alias like soundwave instead of wavelength.

and mark still. tries. to kill him.

he couldn’t have known that dakota would be incorporeal. he couldn’t have predicted the bullets blazing right through his body and colliding with nothing.

dakota fights back with everything he has. a whole year of inaction and anger and regret that built up in his heart, and he’s finally got a place to direct it.

thats where i got too sad and had to finish the rant but oh my god. do you think that after everything mark would still do the Dad Thing when dakota falls asleep on the couch next to ashe and drape a blanket over the two of them. grrrrrrgrgrgrg they make me go feral

[adaptacy]

Southern Nights

Nothin' here but fluff, a bit (a lot) of Sonny x Leland, and good vibes. maybe a tiny drop of bitter-sweetness and angst between the lines but mostly just a cute fluff quick write to bandage my heart cause I love these idiots so much. &lt;3

| Southern Nights - Glen Campbell | ↻ ◁ II ▷ ↺

─── ☆。*。☆。･ ｡ﾟ *. ☽ .* . ☆。*。☆. ───

𝕋he air was filled with some sense of electricity to join the smell of campfire smoke, a light aroma of beer, and gentle laughter. A group of close friends sat gathered around an orange fire, two on a log, two in their own fold-up chairs, and one knelt by the flames, poking at it with a metal rod.

"I can't believe he kept it up for two whole years," a girl laughed, brushing her brown hair over her shoulder.

"Right? You would've thought his voice got tired after the first few months," a boy responded, chuckling along with her as he took a sip from his can of beer. Sure, they weren't quite old enough to be drinking, but there wasn't anyone else here to get them in trouble, and they certainly wouldn't tattle on each other.

"I'm gonna miss him," another girl spoke up, popping a marshmallow in her mouth. She chewed, and then shrugged, swallowing. "Hated history, but he was a good teacher. Made it way more interesting," she continued, and a few of the other kids nodded along with her.

"I bet we'll have all kinds of cool teachers in college, though," another girl added, biting the inside of her lip as she thought.

"Just sucks we won't have each other," the brown-haired boy by the fire commented, leaning back and sitting on the ground next to the only other male in the circle, who sat in his plastic and fabric camping chair.

"We'll still stay in contact," the first girl reassured, setting her can of beer in the dirt next to the log. "At least you and Connie are going to the same college." Ana, the girl speaking, motioned between the boy on the ground and an orange-haired girl on the log next to her.

"Yeah, but UT is a huge school. We may not even run into each other. And what about you guys? Have you guys been accepted into any yet?" Connie asked, looking around the group.

"I got into USC," the boy in the chair replied, and Leland glanced up at him, though he lacked a smile. After a moment of thought, he lowered his head again, taking a long sip of his beer.

"I'm waiting on something back from RIC, and the University of North Dakota," Ana replied, and Julie chuckled.

"You're gonna be freezing all the time if you go to UND," Julie reminded, shaking her head. "I couldn't imagine. I got accepted into UF, so I won't be too far, at least."

"You guys think you're gonna come back to Texas after college?" Leland asked, scooting a little closer to Sonny, the boy in the chair next to him.

"Definitely," Julie answered. Sonny and Ana exchanged a glance, and Ana spoke first.

"I don't know, actually. Maria wants to live somewhere more northern. She likes the cold. I don't really wanna be too far from her," she shrugged, and the group gave a few nods, understanding how close Ana and her sister were. Wherever Maria went, Ana was sure to follow. They'd been that way for as long as Ana could remember.

Leland gently nudged Sonny's ankle, and he looked down at him, a small smile on his face. "I'll probably come back to visit. My entire family is here, anyways." He looked back up to the rest of the group, pausing for a moment as he thought. "We should make plans to all visit for the holidays though. That way we don't risk losing contact," he suggested. Leland immediately nodded.

"I'm sure we can make that work. Probably sometime during the summers too, right?" Ana asked, and the two other girls nodded at her.

Connie popped another marshmallow in her mouth, looking around the serene campsite. "You think there's gonna be a lot of parties in college?"

Leland chuckled. "I'd hope so."

"Probably, that's what everyone says it's like. Parties and alcohol and stuff. I don't know how fun they'd really be, though. I've heard some bad stories about them," Ana murmured, reaching a hand out towards Connie and curling her fingers in.

Connie handed the girl a marshmallow, and Ana slid it onto a short metal point before she hovered the tool over the flames, watching as the treat bubbled and grew an appetizing golden crust. "I think we should all make a pact to try at least three parties. Then we can all share our stories and stuff when we hang out again," she proposed.

"I'm going to a lot more than three parties," Leland laughed, and Sonny nudged him, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, right. Let me guess, you'll be the keg-stand master?" Sonny teased, narrowing his eyes.

"Well, obviously. Gotta impress the chicks," Leland responded, laughing still.

"You can barely handle a can of beer, there's no way," Julie cut in, shaking her head at his cockiness.

"Well, next time you visit, I guess I'll just have to prove it. Just give me some time to warm up my skills," he replied, holding up and arm and flexing his muscles. "Gonna be football n' beer. Ain't that what college is all about?"

"And getting a degree, Mr. Scholarship," Connie commented, earning a shrug from Leland as he lowered his arm. "Seriously, you know you can lose those if you don't commit to them, right?"

"What? No you can't. That wouldn't even make any sense. I already proved myself," Leland scoffed.

"They're paying thousands of dollars for you. I think that definitely makes sense. It's like being kicked out of someone's place for not cleaning up after yourself," Ana added, retracting her marshmallow and tapping it to test it's temperature.

"If you're paying rent, you should be able to do whatever you want," Leland murmured.

"Yeah, but you're not paying rent, dummy. That scholarship is. So make it count," Sonny hummed, leaning back in his chair and looking up at the sky. "I can't wait to live on my own."

"Me too," the rest of the group chimed in simultaneously, giggling at their harmony. Julie yawned, stretching her arms up.

"I'm exhausted. Isn't it about time for bed?" She asked, and the two other girls nodded.

"Speak for yourselves. I've got plenty of energy." Leland shook his head, finishing off his beer as he tossed his head back to get the last drop.

"Well, I'm going to bed. Babes, y'all with me?" Julie asked, standing up out of her chair, and Connie rose as well. Ana pulled her marshmallow off of the stick and popped it into her mouth, nodding and standing as well.

"Since you're so energetic, you can put the fire out," Ana teased.

"Oh, how generous," Leland groaned, pulling himself to his feet.

"Sonny? You comin'?" Connie asked, tilting her head at him.

"Nah, I'm good for a little while longer. Might as well stay out here and keep Leland company. Don't want him getting scared," Sonny yawned, shrugging.

"Or even worse, lonely," Julie teased, winking at Sonny as the girls turned around and retreated back to their tents. Sonny blinked, pretending that he didn't catch on to the wink, and he leaned forward onto his knees, watching as Leland analyzed the fire.

Once they were alone, Leland stood, looking over at a long lake down the hill. They'd picked a fantastic spot to set up camp, and this was their final night of their six-day camping trip. It had been just as fun as the past six years that he'd known the group, filled with laughter and pranks and stupid teenager decisions.

But the end of the camping trip was the end of those six years, too. They all knew it. They were moving on, going to college, going to be adults in an adult world doing adult things. They weren't dumb kids just doing dumb kid things anymore. They'd have responsibilities, and families, and bills.

"Wanna go sit on the dock?" Sonny asked, and Leland looked back at him.

"Sure," he replied. Sonny stood, glancing over at the tent that the girls were in before heading down the small hill with Leland. They walked out on a thin but long wooden dock over the lake, and Sonny stepped out of his shoes as he took a seat, his feet dipping into the cool water beneath.

Leland did the same, sitting next to Sonny. After two minutes of nothing but the sound of crickets and gentle water movements, Leland scooted closer to Sonny, their fingers silently intertwining. The brunette leaned his head on Sonny's shoulder, and he received a gentle squeeze of his hand.

Leland didn't need to say anything. Neither of them did. They just watched the water, watched the reflections of fireflies, watched the breeze ruffle the grass on the river bank.

After a few more minutes, Leland finally decided he wanted to say something. "You'll visit?"

"I will," Sonny reassured, his chin resting against the head on his shoulder.

"I don't know what I'm gonna do," Leland whispered.

Sonny let out a quiet sigh, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, gently rubbing his upper arm in an attempt to comfort him. "Whatever happened to impressing the chicks?" Sonny chuckled softly, and Leland cracked a smile.

"How could I forget," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

There was silence for a little while longer, and Sonny planted a kiss on Leland's head. The action earned a small frown from Leland, and he suddenly turned, wrapping his arms around Sonny and leaning into his chest. Sonny hugged him back, closing his eyes. He could feel how tense Leland's muscles were, and Sonny quietly shushed him, which only caused him to let out a single audible whine, though his muscles did relax.

Sonny didn't say anything for a while, didn't call Leland out on the way his shoulders flinched every few seconds, or the small gasps he took in as he tried to silence his crying.

After a bit, Sonny gently pulled Leland away from his chest, one hand on his shoulder and the other cupping the right side of his jaw. Leland's eyes were a bit red, and Sonny merely watched him.

With a sniffle, Leland whispered out a weak "I love you, Williams."

Sonny smiled, bringing his thumb up and wiping the other boy's cheek free of a loose wandering tear. "I love you too, Mckinney," he said back, pulling the brunette into a tight hug once more.

[goddessofthedawn]

been a while since i talked about my books on here but it was my birthday last week so you could buy them as a late birthday present like, if you want. or if you have ku you could read them as a late birthday present if you want. anyway. i got something for everyone. i publish like six books a yea rin various series.

first up you got the pentalogy of hell, with five books in it (iscariot, forty days, lake of fire, the false prophet, son of perdition). if you like huge casts of characters from various time periods because like, they're all in hell, one of the main characters is from the 12th century but he's been dead forever and his best friend is a juvenile delinquent from 1994 so he's got a weird understanding of the world (he eats a kiwi like an apple at one point). anyway. lots of characters. diversity also. in terms of like. everything? i guess? also way less religious than it sounds. really this was created by an atheistic 14-year-old in 2011 who was terrified of the thought of nothingness after death because she's pretty sure that's what's going to happen. but it's chill.

next up abnormal murders. i call this 'stupid-ass murders' in my heart and my hard drive. first book is serial killers with cookies, second is morph suit murderer. i am currently writing the third book, flip flop felony. they sound ridiculous but like, they're pretty dark. the main character is slowly going insane. she loves vigilante justice and everyone around her is Tired.

third up is the tinon trilogy. this is my attempt at fantasy. three books, obviously, it's a trilogy: circus wings, royal blood, bandit born. my fun way to describe this one is "environmental activist lesbian princess fucks things up for everyone." moving on.

the AUGHTS BOYS. oh holy shit you guys, this one is my baby. there will be, by the time it's done, if it's ever done, at least twenty books in this fucker. these books do not need to be read chronologically, and you don't actually even need to read them all, if you don't want to. they're more companion novels than anything. the first one is one more sad song, which follows the stupidest kid in the world as he tries to like, skateboard and be jealous of his best friend kevin getting a girlfriend because he's in love with kevin and has been for like his entire life. the second book, the horror at camp new woods, is a slasher where everyone dies. the third book, right or wrong, follows this kid being friends with Matt the Douche, who is the only common thread between all the books as of right now, and then matt bullies some kid to suicide. uh-oh. that's not good. and the fourth book, hit or miss, is sort-of a direct sequel to one more sad song, so MAYBE read omss first, but it's about this high school hockey player dealing with his ex-boyf becoming a pro skateboarder (lol, guess who that is) and also winning state hockey and also dealing with matt the douche, again. these books either take place in ohio, minnesota, or north dakota, and if it's north dakota, it's gonna be a horror novel. guys i love these fucking books so much.

then vendettic! vendettic is the only series that i have written that i will never ever add anything to ever. it's a trilogy: spahn, sacrifice, sunset. it's about heavy metal in the early eighties and demon shit and they're fun. a little experimental with the writing. main character is the stupidest bisexual to ever live.

and of course i have standalones.

columbiner is about a kid who moves to a new school and gets involved with this kid who is a columbiner. it is my school shooting book.

the crucifixion of craig knox is like, loosely based on the case of the west memphis three. if you don't know aobut the west memphis three, look them up and read about them. i wrote the first draft of this book, 50k, in four days. then i wrote a second draft, 50k, in twelve days. then i printed both drafts out and made a frankendraft which i tehn rewrote it was a whole process.

beyr is like, a side story for pentalogy of hell. you don't need to read poh to read this but it is essentially jus tlike. backstory for one of the characters. that 1994 juvenile delinquent.

carl & jimmy is like... sort of... based on the american serial killer carl panzram. basically what i did was i learnd that carl panzram did, when he was a teenager, run across north dakota burning down churches with a friend and so i made it the 70s and less serial killer-y. i think this is probably the worst book i've ever written.

like hell is one of my favorites. it's about these three dudes who live in poverty and one of them is in a very abusive situation and as i put it, it's about "revenge, friendship, and killing your mom's boyfriend."

and i have three short story/essay collections: life in anachronism, rewind, and graduation day.

so yeah. check 'em out. let me know if you have any questions.

[anhed-nia]

I am not advocating for this movie here, but I enjoyed its participation in the underused trope of, let's say, "the horror of slightly-too-formal, suburban, socially mandated parties". This scene immediately reminded me of similar-but-terrifying scenes in both CAM and SMILE, and *I think* there may be one in THE BABADOOK although if memory fails me that could be more a matter of adults bickering on the porch, rather than full immersion in the stifling forced-fun of a child's birthday, baby shower, neighborhood association luncheon, or other type of event that is not motivated as much by emotion as by some sort of onerous obligation, in which your behavior and apparent mood are being constantly monitored and judged by everyone around you.

And at that I wonder if this is a distinctly womanly source of horror; I think men are more often featured in scenes of backyard barbecues with a block party-type atmosphere, and the darkness of those scenes tends to be more of the "dad wants to fuck the babysitter" variety. (I watch a LOT of domestic-themed thrillers and horror movies, is where this is all coming from) The stress of these more femme-focused party scenes has more to do with performance anxiety around demonstrating your value as a lawful-good mom/sister/neighbor; hiding your alienation and revulsion and possible insanity from other women; hiding your discomfort with traditional female pageantry; and feeling forced to uphold the myth that all women are from birth part of a supportive sorority--as opposed to the reality that society pits us against one another in a giant ongoing cage match that can last your entire life if you don't wise up.

I should rewatch THE BABADOOK and collect some more of these scenes, I really love them. MADAME WEB may not be my favorite new girl power movie, but I kind of love Dakota Johnson, there is something innately spooky about her. I am still out here advocating for the movie WOUNDS of which I am the world's #1 fan. I think it got buried because of the Armie Hammer grievance, and like, I don't know, follow your heart on that kind of thing, but personally I don't think it's a worth much to throw out a whole movie that a lot of people worked really hard to make just to punish one guy. If you do that, you may miss out on all-time-great dialog like this from the wonderfully weird, frigid Madame Johnson:

Madame Web (2024) dir. S.J. Clarkson

[diavolo-is-babygirl]

(Well it only took all week, but I made a profile for Diavolo's boyfriend. Please meet one of my MCs: Dakota Ellis! In an introduction that took FOREVER to write because I'm a loser)

(If you read this whole thing, please send me a blue 💙 so I know I'm not a loser. Thank you and that's Dakota made with the Baydews Picrew)

Dakota Ellis had always been a beacon of charisma and resilience, traits that served him well in his former life as a successful attorney in a bustling metropolis. Tall, kind and commanding, with a smile that could disarm even the most hardened hearts, Dakota seemed destined for greatness.

His courtroom victories were legendary, each case a testament to his sharp intellect and unwavering determination. But behind his professional façade lay a deeply loving soul, one that cherished his friendships above all else.

Tragedy struck Dakota's life abruptly when he suffered a tremendous loss that shook him to his core.

His lifelong friend and trusted confidant, Sean Montgomery, was brutally killed in a senseless act of violence. Sean had been Dakota's rock, the one who stood by him through every triumph and setback since their school days. 

The grief was suffocating, threatening to consume Dakota entirely. He found himself adrift, his once unshakable confidence shattered, unable to find solace in the career that had defined him for so long. To make matters worse, Dakota couldn't prove Sean's killer guilty.

It was during this dark period that Dakota's path crossed with something entirely unexpected — the Devildom. Drawn into a rift between worlds, he found himself recruited as the Human Exchange Program participant, bewildered and yet strangely intrigued by the chaos and magic that surrounded him. The demons of the Devildom, with their flamboyant personalities and complex relationships, provided a stark contrast to the somber world he had left behind.

Despite his grief, Dakota's innate charisma and warmth begin to shine once more. He becomes a source of strength and support for his demon companions, each of whom is drawn to his unwavering loyalty and dauntless spirit. Through his interactions with them, Dakota rediscovers his passion for justice, albeit in a realm where rules were dictated by a different kind of logic.

In the Devildom, Dakota finds himself navigating a maze of emotions — from friendship to love, from sorrow to joy. His capacity for empathy and understanding grow, shaped by the trials and tribulations of his new life.

Over time, Dakota's presence becomes a stabilizing force within the chaos of the Devildom. His love for Sean and his unyielding belief in justice fuel his every action, earning him the respect and admiration of humans, angels and demons alike.

Dakota finds himself entangled in a bond that defies time. Drawn to the luminous Demon Prince, Diavolo, Dakota's chivalrous nature, sharp intellect and unwavering kindness capture the prince's attention. 

Their bond, forged through shared ambitions, many adventures and complementing strengths, blossoms amidst the chaos of two worlds colliding. As Dakota becomes Diavolo's confidant and partner, their relationship defies expectations, weaving a tale of emotional depth and undeniable attraction.

Known as the Exalt, Dakota stands at Diavolo's side, his legal acumen and unwavering support earning him respect and admiration across the realms. Together, they navigate the complexities of love and power, forging a love story that transcends boundaries and challenges fate itself.

In the tumultuous realm where the past clashes against the oresent, Dakota and Diavolo's romance unfolds—a tale of intrigue, devotion, and as the eternal dance between light and darkness races towards its breaking point.

[authoralexharvey]

For the Tarot Ask: The Magician, The Sun, and Three of Wands

Thanks for the ask! Answering from this list.

01. THE MAGICIAN: SPARK OF MAGIC (What inspired you to write your novel?) 

The answer changes a bit depending on which book we're talking about, all varying levels of cool. Sorry, I'm about to talk a lot.

For TOOD, the biggest catalyst was, well, a few things. I was in a queer lit class in college that I absolutely hated tbh. For my final, I made a short zine/collection? about the nonbinary experience from my perspective and one thing I included in that was a short story called Morning Afters, which was about two people who ended up being the main characters of TOOD. The MC, Quinn, is someone whose body changes every day, and they are trying to leave their fuck-buddy's house before they wake up but end up being discovered and the two bond over their different gender experiences.

I also had really nasty beef with this one cishet indie author dude who considered himself the savior of the gays and said queer people are so bad at writing their own books he has to do it for them--yes, really--so I wrote TOOD to spite him because he's a shitty man and a shittier author.

Anyway.

TWEfA was born out of my love of the Soulsborne franchise and also from the cannibalized corpse of an older novel I wrote a very long time ago. When I was like. Fifteen. A lot has changed since then. Maka and Dakota have stayed the most true to their original selves and I kinda... rebuilt everything around them. I'm sure some elements of it were also inspired by Madoka Magica. In fact, I guarantee some of it was.

Little Vicious Minds came about because I was playing Skyrim and am very mad still about the limited options of what you can do with/to Maven Black-Briar and so I resolved to make a story about someone who decides to destroy her criminal empire. And it kinda,,, blossomed from there.

Lilium was really a love letter to my depressed teenaged self because I wrote it originally in high school when everything fucking sucked. I see myself a lot in both of the main characters in different ways. It's also about your dead brother coming back as a demon which I have no real experience with so. *shrugs*

ASMLP started as a random thought because I love spellbooks and think they aren't used enough in fantasy so I resolved to write a book that required spellbooks and then I... made a whole magic and college system around that and it kind of evolved from there.

BTMS started as me wanting to write vampire erotica and became... very much not that.

I could go on. It really does just depend.

19. THE SUN: POSITIVITY (What is your greatest writing strength or skill?)

I like to think I'm good at dialogue and also at making people fucking sad. Highest praise I think I've gotten yet is a comment/review I got about Lilium about how well I got across the sense of loss and grief one of the MCs endures--and this is before I had lost anyone in my life to the inevitability of death. I don't want like. Instagram-worthy prose or anything but I would like for someone to feel like I just ripped their heart out of their chest and presented it to them when they're done reading, you know? And I think I'm pretty great about that so far.

66. THREE OF WANDS: FORESIGHT (Do you know what your book cover is going to look like? Do you have a color in mind?)

I don't have to imagine for ASMLP, because I already have one! You can see it here. As for my other works.... mmmm...Back when I wrote on Wattpad, I had to have a kind of idea for a cover because you were shooting yourself in the foot if you posted books without covers there. But since leaving there... well, not entirely. I also haven't gotten as far/thought as far ahead as I have with ASMLP--and in truth part of me buying the cover was to give myself an incentive to finish the fucking book. So far has been kind of working. I'm trying to finish by March lol

I haven't thought about covers for anything else yet. I should start doing so for BTMS since I want to publish it before or after ASMLP so we'll see. My main rules about covers is I vehemently refuse to have people on the cover. I hate it. Loathe it. The shadowed hands for ASMLP is as close to having people on the cover as I'm willing to get. I want my covers to have fancy typography or to make a focal point of important objects. I will settle for nothing less.

Thanks again for the ask and sorry for talking your ear off!

[drabbles-mc]

You Ever Get Nightmares?

Happy Lowman & Daughter!OFC (Diedra Lowman)

Whumptober 2022: No.5 Every Whumpee’s Needs- Running Out Of Air

Warnings: 18+, language, angst, mentions of past trauma/physical assault

Word Count: 2k

A/N: This is a day late and a loose interpretation of the prompt, but I was really excited to write for Di again. I’ve had her whole backstory in my head and it was nice to scratch the surface of it a little bit. Plus, it’s nice to see Happy doing the dad thing.

SOA/Mayans Taglist: @garbinge​ @espieviolet99​ @mijop​ @chibsytelford​ @thanossexual​ @anditsmywholeheart​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @be-my-dear​ @bport76​ @withmyteeth​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @shadow-of-wonder​ @punkgoddess-98​ @paintballkid711​ @black-repunzel99​ @lexondeck​ @jitterbugs927​ @fanfic-n-tabulous​ @mijagif​ @frattsparty​ @winchestershiresauce​ @crowfootwrites​ @redpoodlern​ @beardburnsupersoldiers​ @mveggieburger​ @choochoo284​ @littlekittymeow​ @beardsanddetectives​ @i-love-scott-mccall​ @queenbeered​ @gemini0410​ @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo​ @lakamaa12​ @passionatewrites​ (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

She jolted awake, gasping for air like her body hadn’t recognized the difference between her reality and the nightmare that she had just been trapped in. She sat upright, immediately bringing her hand up to her throat as though she had to touch it to confirm that there really wasn’t anything there. Her chest was heaving as she tried to swallow, tried to get herself under control again. Her hand shook as she reached to switch on her bedside lamp.

The light cast off from the lamp wasn’t much. It didn’t feel warm or comforting in the moment. Her breaths were shaky as she aggressively kicked the blanket off. The thing wasn’t even that heavy, didn’t trap or create much heat, but it might as well have been made of lead with the way that it felt against her skin.

Bending her legs, she pressed her elbows against her thighs and dropped her face into her hands. Her breaths were shuddered, and she hated how intensely she could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage. All these years later and she was still fucked up. All the things that she had done to be stronger, harder, smarter, colder, and it didn’t even fucking matter. One bad dream and she was just a scared little teenage girl all over again. She hated it.

The second she felt the tears stinging her eyes, she knew that she had to get the hell out of her room. Deep down, she knew it wasn’t the room that was the problem. It wasn’t her bed, wasn’t her apartment, wasn’t even the town—it was just her. But she couldn’t fix that. So, instead, she forced herself off of her mattress. Putting one foot in front of the other, she fought for each step that she took towards her dresser. Her legs felt like they were locked up, stiff in a way that not even her toughest workouts left her. Each breath she took was calculated as she grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a flimsy tank top.

She slowly opened her bedroom door, poking her head out into the dark hallway. The entire apartment was pitch black except for the soft pink light coming from the crack at the bottom of her sister’s bedroom door. Walking closer, she was about to knock when she heard the sound of her sister’s laughter on the other side. She waited for another moment, but when she heard the muffled sound of the television and Juice’s laughter too, Diedra immediately crept past the door without interrupting them.

Honestly, she wasn’t sure what she really expected Dakota to be able to do for her. She loved her younger sister more than anything, but this was one thing that she didn’t think the two of them would ever talk about. Diedra made the decision years ago that she was better off not knowing about it. It’d been a long time since then and she had yet to go back on that decision. She wasn’t going to break that streak tonight because of a nightmare, no matter how real it felt.

She moved quietly across the apartment, grabbing the bare minimum of things as she went along. She shoved her phone and keys into her pockets as she shoved her feet into her boots, not bothering to tie them before slipping out of the apartment, making sure to lock the door behind her once she was out.

The house was pitch black when she rolled into the driveway, but she knew that he was home. His bike was there, along with his car. There was no way that he had gone somewhere without either of those. She turned her car off, hesitating for a moment and wondering if it was too late to turn around and head back to her apartment. She didn’t exactly know what she wanted from him, either. He’d get it a little more, maybe, but it wasn’t like the two of them ever talked about it.

She lost any opportunity she had to turn around and bail when lights started to shine through one of the windows. Seconds later, the front door opened, and all she could see was his silhouette in the doorway, shadow against the weak, yellow light coming from inside. She saw the brief shadow of the gun in his hand before he tucked it back into his waistband, realizing that it wasn’t a threat rolling into his driveway in the small hours of the morning, it was just Diedra.

Swinging the car door open, she slowly made her way out. She gently pushed the door shut behind her, feet practically dragging as she walked towards his front door. She didn’t regret it, per se, but it felt much more daunting now than it had when she was frozen on her mattress at home.

Once she was close enough to see it clearly, she saw that his expression wasn’t really conveying much one way or the other. She let out a deep, quiet sigh. “Hey, Dad.”

“What happened?” he cut right to the chase.

She raked her hands back through her hair. “Can I stay here for the night?”

He nodded, not asking anything else as he opened the door a little wider. Diedra slipped underneath his arm and into his house. She dropped her phone and keys on the counter as she made her way through the kitchen and towards the living room. She flicked on the lamp there just seconds before Happy turned off the lights in the front of the house. It wasn’t long after that he materialized, sitting next to her on the couch.

After another minute of silence, Happy repeated himself. “What happened?”

She shook her head, feeling so small, weak, feelings that she worked tirelessly to avoid. “It’s stupid.”

“So? Tell me.”

“You ever get nightmares?” she asked.

He paused, thinking about it for a moment before he shrugged. “Sometimes.”

“About real stuff? Like, flashbacks?”

His brows drew together. “What is it?”

She huffed, shaking her head. It suddenly felt much more difficult to look Happy in the eyes. Which was stupid, and she knew it, because he was the only other person on the face of the planet who knew what was eating away at her. But she also knew the things he’d done, the things he was still doing, and it felt silly to come to him on the brink of a breakdown over things that had happened so long ago.

“Just, uh,” she shrugged, twisting her hands in a vain attempt to hide their shaking, “all the shit that happened with…you know…”

“Say it,” he nodded encouragingly, face still nearly blank.

“Dad—”

“Stop choking that shit down.” He rested his hand in the middle of her back between her shoulder blades. “Say it.”

She buried her face in her hands for a moment, trying to figure out if she was going to pluck up the courage to really talk it out for once, or if she was just going to deflect and try to bail.  She took a deep breath. “Sometimes…sometimes I can still, just, feel,” she gestured vaguely in the air before lightly dragging her fingertips down the column of her neck, “like it’s fucking happening…” She laugh she let out was hollow, one that was trying to drown out the urge to cry. “God, it sounds so stupid saying it out loud. It happened so long ago and we’ve both got so much—”

“Hey,” he cut her off, “Don’t do that.” He waited for her to look at him, “Talk to me.”

“It’s not like it happens all the time. But sometimes…sometimes it feels like it’s still happening to me. And I can’t…control it. I can feel myself not being able to breathe and there’s nothing I can do about it. It’s that same fucking,” she clenched her fists tight, not even noticing the tears that were on her cheeks now, “crushing feeling. I can fucking feel it, Dad. It hurts even though it’s not happening to me.”

“It did happen.”

“Yea,” she scoffed, wiping at her face, “like almost fifteen years ago.”

“It still happened.” He paused. “You stopped him, though.”

“I never seem to make it that far in my dreams.”

“You remember it?”

She shot him a disbelieving look. “Did you really just fucking ask me—”

“Then say it.”

Her breath got caught in her throat. All the years of the both of them expertly maneuvering around the topic, and now Happy was placing her directly in front of the oncoming train. She wanted to run, but she felt frozen. If there was a guarantee that this would fix her, she’d spill her guts to the goddamn world. But there was no guarantee, and forcing herself to say things that Happy already knew to be true felt nearly impossible.

Her voice, one that was usually so strong and sharp, sounded fragile, “I killed him.”

“Yes you did,” he sounded to matter-of-fact, “He fucked up. You didn’t, though.”

“But I still feel like this.”

“You were fifteen.”

“So?” She shook her head, blinking away the lingering tears. “You’ve done that kind of shit your whole—”

“That’s different.” He shook his head at her. “You’re good, Di.”

“I’m not—”

“You are. You don’t feel it, you try not to act like it, but you’re good.”

She leaned back against the sofa. Her eyes were locked on the ceiling about them as she spoke. “You say that. But I just, I look at myself, then I look at Kota, and…I don’t know…”

“You’re not like your sister,” Happy shook his head, “but you’re still good.”

“Kota never—”

“She never had to,” he didn’t let her finish the thought. A few beats of silence went by before he asked, “Why didn’t you ever say any of this before?”

“We all deal with our own shit, Dad. And you and I don’t really…you know…we don’t really talk about shit.”

“But you can. I’m here. Always.”

Some of the tension disappeared from her shoulders and she nodded, tears springing into her eyes again. “I know,” she hadn’t meant to whisper but she did. “I guess I just hope that if I don’t talk about it, try not to think about it, that maybe it’ll go away.”

“Has it?”

She managed a tiny chuckle, “Clearly not.” She took a deep breath trying to get herself together, the first deep breath she’d been able to take comfortably all night, “Thank you.”

“I love you,” he draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in so that he could kiss the side of her head, “a lot.”

She smiled her first real smile of the night as she leaned into him, “I love you too. A lot.”

“Do you wanna stay up? Or try to go back to sleep?”

She looked up at him, and she knew for a fact that if she said that she wanted to stay up, that he would spend the rest of the night sitting on the couch with her, awake, most likely in complete silence. Because there wasn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for his daughters. He proved it time and time again. He’d been proving it to Diedra since she was fifteen, and it was one of the few things that had never changed.

“I think I’m gonna try and get some sleep.” She paused. “Can I sleep out here?”

He didn’t even bat an eye as he nodded. “Yea, I’ll grab your pillow from your room.”

“Thank you,” she said as she folded her hands in her lap.

When Happy came back a few minutes later, he had two pillows and two blankets bundled up in his arms. He tossed one of each onto the couch for Diedra, lightly hitting her in the chest with the pillow and getting her to laugh quietly. Then, he walked over to the recliner. Propping the pillow behind his head and draping the blanket over his legs, he pulled the lever on the side that made the footrest kick out. He didn’t say anything as he waited for Diedra to get situated.

“Night,” he said as he reached for the lamp and switching it off.

She sunk down into the comfort of the thick blanket he’d given her, eyes closing as she focused on the reality of the fact that she was safe and sound at Happy’s house. “Night.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

What would a cw adaptation of Harry Potter look like?

Having not watched too many cw shows myself (I just hear about their nonsense), I phoned @therealvinelle who made the poor life choices of having watched much more of The Vampire Diaries than I have and watching any Supernatural.

The following is her beautiful response:

So for starters, we merge Snape and Tom's characters. This is because Snape isn't hot, and because Tom needs to be near the kids. Tom still looks like Tom Riddle, and he's a teacher who seduces Hermione. At no point are any thoughts about the fact that he's a teacher sleeping with a student had

Harry is a blond now, and he's also dating Hermione. A love triangle ensues, one where Tom will hover sexily but dangerously in empty classrooms and make vague threats that Hermione find very sexually arousing.

The love triangle is the focal point of this show.

Voldemort is Tom's evil alter ego, who killed Harry's parents over that prophecy. He wants to kill Harry as well, but it's not the season finale yet so he's not actually doing anything about it. Too busy seducing Hermione.

Instead he just does vaguely sinister things, like release a basilisk that Harry heroically saves Hermione from.

He every so often has charged conversations with McGonagall (Who has been aged down and is in her thirties. She's still considered ancient), implying they had an affair once.

Harry and Hermione piece together that Tom and Voldemort aRe ThE sAmE pErSoN.

(Piece together meaning that Dumbledore, who only appeared in the second half of the first season and the show never bothers to clarify what his job actually is, gets a focal episode where he tells them the story of Tom Riddle through flashbacks. Terrible flashback wigs and costumes galore.)

Tom will later, in season 3 where he goes full woobie and we learn that none of his evil deeds were ever his fault, reveal that there's more to the story. That orphanage he grew up in? It was a special school for muggle-borns where they trained a future wizarding militia. Tom was the only one who broke free of their oppressive regime. The other children... GREW UP TO BECOME THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX.

But I'm skipping how season 1 ended. The answer is that Hermione disavowed Tom in the season 1 finale since he was evil, he was too sexy bad boy to care except subtle wigglings of his eyebrow told the captive Tomione-shipping audience that he did in fact care. Harmione shippers think they're all delusional. She then jumped into Harry's arms.

Which was poor decision making on her end, because in season 2 Harry joins the dark side. This lasts for half a season, mostly because the arc featured so much filler. Tom, who was imprisoned in season 1, becomes Hermione's supportive pen pal through this ordeal and she starts to wonder if maybe there's good in him after all.

Sirius Black is introduced, he's a lawyer living in the Muggle world and he was in love with Lily. We get a flashback showing us how sad Sirius was when she married James, and there is buildup for an arc where Harry's paternity will be questioned. This arc is scrapped, and Sirius is written out of the show altogether, never to be mentioned again.

Ginny gets pregnant by Neville. Neville dies tragically shortly afterwards, killed by Harry because Harry is a dark wizard now. This is actually the spinoff door episode to the new show the CW is trying to launch, "The Weasleys".

Neville's death has no real consequences, Harry returns to the light and is forgiven in time to become the child's godfather.

Oh, and can't believe I forgot: they've all been aged up to 17.

End of season 2, Tom escapes prison.

Season 3, we get the whole "DUMBLEDORE is the real villain!" arc. Tom killing Harry's parents in season 1 is forgotten, the show doesn't outright retcon it but it doesn't want the viewers to remember it either.

Hermione is once again in a love triangle, only this time Tom and Harry have both done bad things (but we'll only bring up the 2 bad things Harry did (killed Neville and said a mean thing to Hermione) and none of the 282985204592 bad things Tom did) so Hermione has a hard time.

Hermione also discovers that she's a uniquely powerful witch. She has the power to make windows shatter, candles flicker, and wind blow all about. Everyone is frightfully impressed with this.

Mid-season 3 finale, Dumbledore destroys Tom's body. It's terribly dramatic, but then turns out to only be a mild inconvenience as he is resurrected four episodes later. He's resurrected by Hermione's window shattering powering, she closed her eyes very intensely and bam, he's back.

We learn about the horcruxes, which by themselves are shockingly similar to the horcruxes of the original books. The big change, however, is that this Tom didn't know he had horcruxes, those evil bastards at the orphanage split his soul in the night through ominous rituals (another flashback here). He has no idea where this other half of his soul is.

Season finale, we learn that Hermione is in fact his horcrux. This is why they had so much in common (they don't have anything in common) and why she got through his bad boy persona (he hasn't been a bad boy since season 1!). They were soulmates this whole time!

Harry despairs in the face of this, and he and Hermione have a teary conversation where she confirms that yes, the Tomione shippers won.

He also has a pleasant conversation with Tom, as a bromance has bloomed between the two.

Alas. The episode ends on a cliffhanger, as the door flings open dramatically. Dumbledore walks in, bearing proof that Tom made an Unbreakable Vow to always serve the Order, a Vow that was obliviated from him. He drags Tom kicking and screaming away from a crying Hermione, the season ends with her resolve to find a way to save him.

(Sorry, I'm on a roll here)

Season 4, a year later. Harry and Hermione have been searching ever since Tom disappeared. They've become closer than ever, but apart from three or four moments of extreme sexual tension per episode, Hermione is Faithful™

News of Tom's terrorist actions as an Order member reach them with regular intervals. Hermione remains convinced that he's being forced to do all this and doesn't actually want to hurt anybody, Harry's not so sure.

They catch up to him in Minneapolis (did I mention this entire show takes place in the states? All the actors are American.) and he tells them to stop trying to save him. Hermione, devastated, takes this to mean he never loved her, he was only ever a psychopath playing with her feelings. She tells him as much, and Tom confirms, yeah, he's a cold-hearted son of a bitch (Harry's favorite insult for him).

They break up, and Hermione gets back with Harry. They return to their home city in North Dakota.

At the very end of that same episode, Tom is able to visit Harry for 15 seconds in the form of a specter and very dramatically tell him how he does love Hermione but he's not good for her, better to make a clean break, yada yada. DON'T LOOK FOR ME.

Harry agrees, sure no problem, he can do that. Just one noble bro to another.

Tom nods, thanks for having sex with my girl while I rot in hell, bro.

It is in this same season premier episode that the show introduces the Blacks. Remember Sirius Black? Yeah, this is sexy family.

They become instant fan favorites, and one of them is shipped with Tom (the fans now hate both Harry and Hermione).

Pandering as always, the show lets said character run into Tom. And it's not Bellatrix, oh no. It's Athena, a CW original Black. She's indistinguishable from the original Bellatrix and it's unclear why she's not just Bellatrix.

Tom is ordered to kill her, but they have a moment of truly intense eye contact so he only injures her (the killing curse doesn't exist in this show. Don't ask how Harry got his scar. No really, don't ask, the show never explained it). Shippers go wild.

Tom is eventually able to break free of the Unbreakable Vow through the power of true love (book fans are sobbing, this show gets nothing right), and he returns to Hermione, begs her to take him back. She rebuffs him, and he goes to get drunk at a bar. This is where Narcissa (aged down to 25) finds him. They have sex.

He has a brief fling with her, only to get into a more serious relationship with Athena. This leads to Hermione getting jealous.

We're now dealing with a love pentagon, of sorts. Harry and Tom love Hermione, Tom also loves Athena, Narcissa wants Harry but she has undeniable sexual chemistry with Tom.

The show descends into back-and-forth-ing, and does not get renewed.

The end.

POST SCRIPT:

The oddly popular side character that the CW never wanted to be popular at all and keeps having to make mysteriously vanish for half a season so that the plot(?) can avoid being derailed is Draco.

He's super competent but the show will never admit that.

Later, Athena plays this same role.

- @therealvinelle

[whoree321]

the bad batch + what romance/rom com movies they watch with you

each of the bad batch x gn!reader

ok first and foremost i really truly believe to the pits of my soul that every single one of these fuckos loves romances and you cannot under any circumstances change my mind

ALSO it’s a gender neutral reader except kinda in echo’s theres like a very brief quote regarding breasts but like i still think even that is pretty gender neutral tbh

so anyway

Hunter: Pretty Woman

this is not the first time that i have publicly declared that i think hunter has a deep rooted connection to the movie pretty woman and it will not be the last

first of all this movie is incredibly soothing to hunters overwhelming savior complex

second of all hunter is literally richard gere (debonaire but emotionally distant gentleman that learns to love) and julia roberts (hooker with a heart of gold) at the same time

he was a little skeptical the first time you put it on but he instantly fell in love with it

the humor, the sensuality, the class divide, the glamour, the unconventional cinderella story of it all. it just really butters his bread

after the first time, when you suggest watching a movie and you pick this one he’ll act very aloof about it (“whatever you want cyar’ika, it doesn’t matter to me”) but secretly he’s really really happy bc it’s one of his favorites (you def know this and def pick it more often)

he absolutely hates the scene when stucky the lawyer hits vivian. like it doesn’t matter how many times he watches it he will fully turn his head away from the screen and say “I don’t like this part” and when it’s over he nuzzles a little closer into you and very tenderly kisses your forehead

he loves the soundtrack too. like he fully exposes how much he likes the movie when you catch him singing or humming “pretty woman” or “it must have been love” absently to himself (you kept it to yourself for a while but eventually you just had to tease him about it. he just smiled a little sheepishly and admitted he liked the songs before promptly changing the subject)

hunter also lowkey definitely wants to recreate the ending where richard gere shows up to her apartment in the white limo with you bc he thinks it’s such a sweet gesture and he wants to treat you like royalty

Crosshair: 10 Things I Hate About You

if there’s one thing about crosshair it’s that he’s a sucker for the enemies to lovers genre

maybe its just him projecting (spoiler alert it most certainly is) but he really enjoys watching the drama conflama of a miserable bastard be tricked into love

and really that’s the true essence of 10 Things I Hate About You

he will grumble and bitch and moan about not wanting to watch a ‘chick flick’ when you put it on, but 15 minutes in and he’s hooked

he has strong negative opinions on literally every single character except for kat and patrick

(crosshair really really wants to think he’s patrick but when it comes down to it he is katarina stratford in every single possible way)

he doesn’t say a word throughout the entire movie but you can tell when he’s annoyed at like bianca or cameron or joey bc he will openly scoff at them

will absolutely hum along in your ear during the “can’t take my eyes off you” scene and make out with you during the paintball scene

(seriously he wants to be patrick verona so bad)

when it’s over and you ask him what he thought he’ll roll his eyes and say “i guess it could have been worse” but his little smirk let’s you know he enjoyed it a lot more than he’s willing to admit

Tech: 50 Shades of Grey

ok hear me out on this one

tech is a huge movie talker. like subtitles are a non-negotiable if you wanna be able to take in any of the movies dialogue bc tech is most likely gonna make commentary over it the whole time

this makes him absolutely indescribably so much fun to watch bad/corny movies with

he will go off about EVERYTHING. the plot, the dialogue, the acting, the costuming, the music, the production quality. nothing and no one is safe. whether you just enjoy letting him talk at you or you join in on the roast, cheesy movies are a hoot between you two

and honey. 50 shades is one of THE cheesiest movies ever

you and tech will literally spend the entire duration of the movie tearing it to shreds

and the thing is tech is a very sarcastic, funny guy when he wants to be (and when it comes to you he definitely wants to be) so by the end of it he will have you in absolute stitches from laughing at the ridiculousness of both the movie and him

with any of the other batchers watching a movie like this either turns into a shy, slightly awkward experience (wrecker, echo) or an incorrigibly horny experience (crosshair, hunter)

but in this context tech literally has no shame or squeamishness about sexual things (why should he it’s a natural biological process?) so to yall the sex stuff is just another thing to roast

literally christian grey could be fully tying dakota johnson down and flogging her and tech will be like “in the last 3 minutes they have panned up to her nipples 4 times. this is criminally shoddy cinematography”

even tho he’s busy giving a detailed play by play critique, he never fails to keep some sort of physical contact with you (wrapping an arm around you and running his hand up and down your skin, playing with your fingers or your hair) so you know he’s enjoying spending this time with you despite his nasty words about the movie

also 1000% after you watch it tech will do extensive research on the ins and outs of bdsm and will have lots of hypotheses he wants to test out (as long as you’re willing and able ofc) ;)))

Wrecker: 13 Going On 30

of all the bad batch members, wrecker is the only one who unabashedly loves any movie that could be considered a chick flick

like he doesn’t even try to hide it or act like he’s too masculine for it. he loves romance and he’s proud of it

this man will have full marathons with you. rom coms, regular roms, tragic roms, hallmark roms, you name it and he’s game

his absolute favorite tho is 13 Going On 30

i feel like he has a huge soft spot for childhood best friends to lovers stories like he finds that type of lifelong partnership so endearing (and he loves to live vicariously through jenna since that type of romance was obviously never an option for him)

wrecker is also very childlike at heart and i think the idea of a 13 year old sweetheart trapped inside the body of a 30 year old cut throat magazine exec is so amusing to him (and maybe makes him feel just a little bit represented in the media)

he is definitely the type to completely engulf you in a cuddle for the entirety of the movie and he DEFINITELY cries into your shoulder at matty’s wedding when jenna is crying on the stoop with her dream house

he wants to try razzles so bad. like so bad. i think if he ever came across them somewhere he would barter at least one of his brothers for them

wrecker really just loves love and watching movies about it just reminds him of how lucky he is to have his own love story with you <3

Echo: The Princess Bride

i feel like it’s glaringly obvious why echo loves this movie

pirates. sword fighting. decades long revenge plots. the value of an honorable, loyal man. true love that never wavers even in the face of devastating tragedy and the darkest of hardships. clever but goofy humor.

echo considers this an action/adventure movie and NOT a romance movie (even tho it 100% totally is a romance movie) and requests to watch it very frequently

he can quote the whole thing. i’m seriously telling you echo loves the princess bride with his whole chest

even tho he refuses to admit it’s a love story above all else, he really does try to model himself in your relationship after wesley

like especially given what happened at the citadel and all the time you thought he was dead, the cinematic parellels are alive and present in y’alls relationship and he strives to be even half the man to you that wesley is to buttercup

literally in your day to day life he will sometimes respond to your requests with a smooth “as you wish ;)” (it doesn’t matter how many times he does it it still gives you butterflies)

when you watch the movie, he snuggles as close to you as possible and does his best to make youre comfy the whole time (he’s insecure about his prosthetics hurting you no matter how much you reassure him they don’t)

he just loves to be able to feel your heartbeat and your laugh when you giggle at the funny bits

every single time without fail at the part when buttercup is about to stab herself he leans down, ghosts his lips against the shell of your ear, and whispers the line in time with wesley: “there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. it would be a pity to damage yours”

every single time without fail you wind up making out until he pulls away and tells you to watch the next part when wesley challenges humperdinck to a duel to the pain

echo just loves you to bits and wants you to know he’d endure a thousand fire swamps for you

Omega: Clueless

i have this really specific obsession with omega being a total girly girl and having very traditionally feminine interests as she keeps experiencing the universe and being exposed to a spectrum of gender expression beyond clone (masc and boring) and kaminoan (ugly)

so with that headcanon of her in mind, it’s vital to me that she sees clueless as soon as possible

clueless is an essential piece of media for a girl entering adolescence and i will die on this hill

it has literally everything you want and everything you need to develop into a well-rounded young woman

it’s so deliciously 90s and glamorama and valley girl humor and camp. its got meaningful female friendships and valuable life lessons and paul mf rudd

if there’s one thing you should encourage a burgeoning hetero teen girl to do, it’s to stick to dating guys like paul rudd in clueless. the earlier this message can be broadcast the better

the second you’re able to steal omega away from hunters watchful eyes (“hunter we’re just gonna watch finding nemo i swear!”) you show her this movie

at this point omega is not really a girly girl, but omega also has absolutely zero feminine influence in her life

the first time she sees clueless she is absolutely obsessed. like seriously she is so enamoured with the glitz and glam of cher horowitz

she asks you questions the entire time. she wants to know about EVERYTHING. the makeup, the clothes, the hair, the slang

(she definitely goes around saying stuff like “i’m totally bugging” for long enough afterwards that almost all of the boys have slipped up at least once with some ridiculous valley girl slang. you thought you were gonna die of laughter when you overheard tech say “as if!” to wrecker in the middle of an argument)

it just really introduces her to this whole world of femininity that she didn’t even know existed and she absolutely loves it

she makes you watch clueless with her seriously once a week at minimum. she begs you to style her hair like tai’s and you can’t help yourself when you happen to run across a little yellow plaid dress and buy it for her on sight

(hunter was gonna scold you for recklessly spending credits until he saw how omega almost cried from how happy she was for the gift)

honestly she enjoys the romance of it all and paul rudd is def her first celebrity crush but she enjoys more that you and her now have this special thing of hair and nails and pretty dresses

she loves how confident and beautiful and special you’re able to make her feel, and you love that you get to bring her that small sense of normalcy and happiness

[goldenxchoices]

Choices LIs

I've done something like this before, but it was nearly three years ago, so it's time for an update. (Plus, I saw this floating around, and I was bored, so why not?)

Books with a single LI: I tend to default to the female version of any customizable LI, especially on a first playthrough. I'll sometimes romance a male LI with a male MC, but I rarely do m/f romances. The exception is A Very Scandalous Proposal; I don't like the Ava sprites, so I almost always choose Simon instead.

In this category, I like Trystan Thorne, Kieran, Dakota Winchester, Simon Montjoy, Manu Nakeli, and Kit Jackson. I feel pretty neutral toward Cassian Keane, Clarke, and Jacqueline Monroe. I don't like Sam Dalton. And the entire book Surrender can kindly fuck off.

Across the Void: Gonna be honest, despite having read this through at least twice, I wouldn't be able to tell you a thing about the LIs or their personalities. I think I went for Titania my first playthrough - or was it Kepler?

America's Most Eligible: Jen's my favorite here, though I'd like to try a run where I dump someone for Bianca.

Baby Bump: Myra.

Bachelorette Party: Aisha.

Big Sky Country: I love Juliette dearly, but sometimes my Hallmark-loving brain kicks in and I have to pick Sawyer.

Blades of Light and Shadow: All four are amazing and I love them. I love my ladies the best, but I have a soft spot for Tyril as well. I'd love a big polycule here.

Bloodbound: Kamilah takes the top spot, but Lily's a close second.

A Courtesan of Rome: Sabina and Syphax are tied as my favorites, and I'm becoming more fond of Cassius the more I play. I'd like Antony to go away forever, please.

The Crown and the Flame: For Kenna, I alternate between Val and Annelyse. For Dom, I prefer Sei.

Desire and Decorum: Annabelle, always.

Distant Shores: I actually tend to go for Edward here, surprisingly. Almost always with a male MC, though.

The Elementalists: Shreya or Aster.

Endless Summer: I've tried all four. With female MCs, I tend to lean toward Quinn. With male MCs, I like Estela or Sean.

Foreign Affairs: Either Tatum or Ayna.

The Freshman: Becca is my queen. I also like Kaitlyn and Zig, but it's hard to pass up Becca's route.

The Haunting of Braidwood Manor: Eleanor. Is there even really a choice here?

The Heist: Monaco: Sonia. This is one of the few instances where a guaranteed female character is written as the "main" love interest, and she's amazing and I love her romance route.

Hero: Eva.

High School Story: Emma or Maria.

High School Story: Class Act: Skye.

Home for the Holidays: Holly.

Hot Couture: Luz.

Immortal Desires: Both. Both is good.

It Lives Beneath: Probably Imogen or Tom.

It Lives in the Woods: Andy or Ava.

Laws of Attraction: Aislinn.

LoveHacks: Ben.

Mother of the Year: I love all three equally. I literally cycle through them each time I play.

My Two First Loves: I went for Ava the first time, but I really love Noah as well.

Nightbound: Vera or Cal.

Open Heart: Jackie and Rafael are my favorites, but I think Bryce is awesome as well. I can't stand the other guy.

Passport to Romance: Um... Marisa, I suppose?

Perfect Match: Hayden, Sloane, and Alana. Though sometimes I'll go for the entire polycule, because I can.

Platinum: No strong preference here. Maybe Raleigh? Though I like Shane's vibes as well.

Queen B: Zoey, with a dose of flirting with Poppy.

Red Carpet Diaries: Teja, I guess, though the whole series is sort of meh for me.

Ride or Die: Probably Mona's at the top, though I have enjoyed doing Colt and Logan runs before.

Rising Tides: No preference. Honestly, I don't even remember who I chose the first time.

The Royal Masquerade: Kayden. Mostly because of the looks thing, honestly.

The Royal Romance: Hana. Though if I could choose Olivia, I'd be all over that.

Rules of Engagement: Dean for the MC, and Mira for the Party Twin.

Save the Date: Lindsay or Simon.

Slow Burn: Still playing for the first time, but so far I think I prefer Julia.

Sunkissed: Eliana.

The Unexpected Heiress: Gemma.

Veil of Secrets: Kate and Naomi.

Wishful Thinking: Jaime.

Wolf Bride: Morgan. Go away, wolf dude.

[its-deputy-caleb]

hellllooooo amigo

so I was wondering if you could write a lil fic about Micah mentioning his birthday is soon but not expecting anyone to care about it but then the reader surprises him with a present and Micah’s like :O

I’ve had this idea stuck in my head for the past week lmao but if it ain’t your thing or if you’ve done something similar before then don’t worry about it my g :)

howdyy amigo <33 so i had all these good ideas and then i was writing and the creative block hit HARD so i high key hate this and its a mess but i hope i pulled through in the end and i kinda went a little off topic but oops enjoy anyway :0

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

You never really gave a thought to Micah’s birthday. Not because you didn’t want to celebrate it but simply because he never mentioned it to you. It wasn’t really a tradition to celebrate a gang members birthday although the group would never pass up a chance for drinking. Mostly those celebrations were reserved for big scores.

For some of the special members of the gang however, there were celebrations. On Dutch’s the whole gang would practically feast and party for the entire week and for Miss Grimshaw Javier would perform while Sean gave a right old toast. Dutch even insisted on a party for Molly and you laughed at Karen and Mary Beth who whined the entire night about “Miss fancy pants needing her own royal party”.

Of course even for the other members you’d notice when it was their birthday. You’d seen when close friends of Arthur leave gifts beside your own at his tent and for Jack’s birthday John and Abigail tolerated each other enough to spoil the boy with gifts surrounded by family.

That’s why you thought it was rather odd when Micah, your sweetheart never told you about his birthday. You thought he may have damn well forgot it when you overheard him one night with Bill.

He was mumbling into a bottle of whiskey, half on his way to passing out when he mentioned he was getting too old with another birthday coming up in a few days. Of course the bastard wouldn’t tell you, for all his boasting he’d never been one for parties or celebrating.

So with that in mind you spent the rest of the night formulating a plan to at least celebrate his birthday between the two of you.

-

You’d learnt from Bill the next morning, who wasn’t nearly half as drunk (or hungover) as Micah that his birthday was in exactly three days.

So that left you with three days to formulate just how you’d surprise the man you’d come to love so dearly for his birthday.

Coming up with a celebration was relatively easy— he wasn’t one for crowds, he enjoyed your company and only yours alone and he loved a good whiskey so naturally you’d take him away from the gang’s camp and head down to the Dakota river for the night.

It was finding a good gift that had you tearing your hair out. It was hard trying to find something that would be personal enough for Micah to appreciate when the man in question held few personal belongings, and naturally a new revolver was completely out of the question.

-

You decided to give up on your mission to find him a gift after nearly chewing Swanson’s ear off for singing while you were trying to think and rethink your gift.

So with a new formed headache you headed into valentine to purchase a nice and rather expensive whiskey for tomorrow night.

On your way out of the general store you noticed a beautiful Dutch Warmblood horse trot into the stable behind his owner. The horse had a large white spot over his leg and it couldn’t’ help but remind you of Baylock.

Bingo.

Smiling to yourself you put the whiskey in your saddle bag and walked into the stables to buy Micah his birthday gift, one you’re sure he’s going to love more over any new jacket or gunbelt.

-

Micah’s day went about relatively normally for the most part, waking up together with a kiss and a coffee but you couldn’t help be slightly more affectionate than usual.

You’d spent most of the day together, Micah talking with you while you did chores and you talking with him while he (reluctantly) sat on guard duty. All the normal things about the day went on and you kept your secret until the sun was just about to dip over the mountain.

Micah was leaning against a tree, sharpening his knife when you came up to him and wrapped your arms around his neck. You played with the ends of his hair, taking in the sight of him as he holstered the knife and wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ve got something for you.”

You leant forward and placed a soft kiss to his cheek, smiling against his skin at the curious sound he made.

“Hmm? You sure that something isn’t right here in front of me sweetheart?”

You giggle softly as Micah tries to pull you in closer for a proper kiss, deciding to indulge in his wishes for once. It was his birthday after all.

Pulling away from the surprisingly tender kiss, you give him a gentle smile as you untangle yourself from his arms.

“Common, let me show you.”

You take Micah by the hand, almost dragging him to the other side of camp by the horses which drew the attention from a few of the gang members but you didn’t have a care in the world as anticipation grew.

Leading him over to Baylock who is newly saddled, you watched as Micah stared blankly at it before tentatively bringing a hand up to feel over the soft premium leather.

The saddle was all black to match Baylock’s coat with white inlay in the seat and silver on the horn. All of it was the finest quality at your request and even the bedroll was a finer cotton than most.

Micah couldn’t help the smile that broke out onto his face and he turned to you looking like a kid on Christmas.

“You get this for little old me?”

Your own smile matched his as you wrapped your arms back around his neck once more.

“Well I thought since you’d never ever want another revolver and there isn’t much more you love than those guns and Baylock that you’d want a new saddle for him.”

Micah brought you in for a tight hug after that, managing to lift you slightly as you clung to him for dear life. He looked up at you from your new position.

“Sweetheart there ain’t nothing I love more than I do you—“

He sets you back on the ground, leaning in for a kiss but letting your noses bump and your foreheads touch.

“—worth more to me than any ol’ revolver, I love you.”

You close the gap between the two of you, melting into each other as you feel just how much Micah is in love with you.

“I love you too Mikey, and happy birthday— do you like it?”

The look you give him is one of hope and he can’t help but nod and wrap his arms tighter around your waist.

“Course I like it, but yer didn’t need to pay for this. Looks real fancy.”

Micah looked over the saddle once more, his eyes beaming as he saw how well it complemented Baylock’s coat. He was impressed, of course by the gift but because you had cared enough to get it for him and it only confirmed the feelings he had for you.

“Who says I paid for it?”

You saw Micah smirk at your comment and give a low evil laugh.

“That’s my sweetheart I know and love.”

Of course this time you had paid for the saddle, one of the few items you were willing to pay for but that didn’t mean the two of you didn’t steal practically everything else.

You pull away from Micah and hoist yourself up onto Baylock’s saddle, holding your hand out to a very confused looking Micah.

“Common you, I’ve got a nice bottle of whiskey and two glasses waiting for us.”

-

Down by the river you and Micah were perched up on a large rock that was floating in some shallow water by the river bank. You’d hidden the glasses and whiskey in a tree and the two of you were now laughing together as you drank through it slowly.

Your head was resting under his chin while his arm that wasn’t holding his glass was draped over your shoulder. The moonlight reflecting off the water was more than enough for the two of you to see as he topped up your glass for you.

“Gosh so how old are you now?”

Your words were light and charismatic, the two of you giggling about all sorts of things that night. Micah looked up in contemplation, humming as if he was trying to remember.

“Ehh must be close to forty now— thirty nine I think.”

You whistled, only to cut yourself off with a small laugh as you raised the glass to your mouth.

“You are getting old Mr.Bell, the next thing you know I’ll be able to outshoot you.”

“Sweetheart you can already outshoot me…”

Despite the lighthearted tone of the conversation, you noticed how Micah got uncharacteristically quiet.

“Micah? Are you alright?”

You sit up to face Micah, noticing the flush on his cheeks which wasn’t the fault of the whiskey and the way his attention was on sloshing the liquid in the glass.

“I am gettin’ old sweetheart, at least in terms o’ outlaws—“

“Micah what are you saying?”

You stare at him confused, completely unprepared for what he says next.

“— ‘m saying that i love you and yer the only one I’d ever wanna grow old with.”

Your eyes widen, in fear? in hope? You weren’t quite sure, maybe it was shock at the fact Micah Bell had said he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“B-but I thought you didn’t want redemption!? I thought you never wanted to leave the gang, this life!”

Micah shakes his head, putting down your glasses and taking his hands in yours as he squeezes them to reassure himself more than anything.

“I didn’t— I don’t. Oh hell I don’t know what I want but I would throw it all away for you, if its what you wanted.”

He seems to regain some of his confidence after a deep breath and he waves his hands in front of you as he tries to formulate what he wants to say.

“Ya’know have a house and all that…”

You smile gently, your heart melting at the thought that Micah would give up everything for you. You lean forward, taking his hands and threading your fingers before kissing him.

The kiss depends as you momentarily forget where you are and you both start to let your hands wander lower over each other until Micah knocks the glass of whiskey over.

Pulling back from where you’d almost crawled on top of him, you smile sheepishly and sit back down on the rock. This time you sit between Micah’s legs so his arms can rest in your lap and his head can rest on your shoulder.

“Well a house and all that can wait since I’m perfectly happy growing old with you robbing and thieving our way across the plains.”

Your head rests against his own as you feel him litter soft kisses over your shoulder and neck.

“Sounds like something I could get used to.”

Micah whispers his words against your skin and the two of you enjoy the peace and each other’s company. Your hand gives his own a reassuring squeeze, letting your eyes close as you relax and listen to the sound of the river flowing.

“As long as I have you and get to celebrate a hundred more birthdays with you, I’ll be the happiest person in the world.”

Micah squeezes your hand back, sitting up so you could get comfortable against his chest as he rests his chin on top of your head.

“Not sure ‘bout a hundred but you have me for as long as this world lets me darlin’”

You hum sleepily, getting closer and closer to sleep as you listen to his gravelly voice.

“Promise?”

“I Promise”

[awsuntanz]

a ramble about helium chapter 4 (and dakota’s wonderful characterization)

its 4am, forgive me for any mistakes. i’ve never written anything like this before, aha.

All of these quotes are from Chapter 4 of @heytherestilinski‘s fic Helium!

The way Dakota (the author) fleshes out conflict and allows their painfully realistic characterization to shine is so...perfect. I find myself heavily relating to Dream, George, and even Sapnap at times. 

Here are some lines that I didn’t think would stick out to me (but did):

After a quiet moment, to his soaring heart’s approval, George speaks up again.

This entire kitchen scene portrays that feeling of having a conversation with someone who matters to you. Whether it would classify as something important to someone else or not is irrelevant- to you, in that moment, it feels like you’re holding the world. It’s soft, and tender. You don’t want it to fall flat. You don’t want to let it go. (This scene may or may not have encouraged me to say goodnight to a special someone I was thinking of while reading this).

Sapnap dumps the responsibility of the cart back onto Dream. As he walks past him, he says, “You suck at flirting.”

I really enjoyed the stupid banter between Dream and Sapnap at the grocery store. It not only served as some nice comic relief that kept our guard down before the conflict at the end of the chapter, but it’s also something us readers would definitely hear from (and say to) our friends in real life. Good comic relief is something that eases us in naturally and allows us to immerse ourselves and enjoy the moment while maintaining that element of surprise that keeps us interested :)

He turns away from Dream. “I don’t want to talk about this.”

Dream may be less controlled in his emotions and impulses, but he is very open in sharing them. George has more of a filter on everything. Controlled. Not wanting to push Dream (or maybe even himself) off the edge.

“You wanted to this morning,” he says, low.

“Yeah, because we were in your house, not the middle of the grocery store.”  

Rejection. Denial. George’s response holds some truth to it, but comes off as a haphazard excuse at the same time. He doesn’t appreciate the way Dream pushes for that direct confrontation and frankness when it comes to approaching their situation (and honestly? Neither would I). 

George halts to face him again, with a half-whisper, “Not exactly the best place to ambush me, Dream.” 

I like the use of the word ambush here because of the strong negative connotation it implies. It’s as if he’s saying that Dream sought out to make him uncomfortable. As if this was pre-planned and intentional, and not another one one of his silly impulses.

Dream stares at him wildly. “I didn’t ambush you. You brought up your expectations, not me.” His voice grows tight. “Are you seriously still going to act like this?”

We’ve had enough of “Dream, why? Dream, no! Dream, quit being an idiot!” from the readers. This time, he takes that blame and tosses it over to George instead. Conflict grows stronger.

“Like I’m—I’m this stumbling idiot who forces you into every bad situation,” he says. “It’s exhausting, and doesn't make me feel good about myself, and—” He runs a trembling hand through his hair. “It’d be nice if you took some responsibility, for once. That’s all.”

God, I’m so guilty of how George does this to Dream. Taking responsibility isn’t very fun when you feel like the other person is constantly making irrational, immature, and as we’ve established earlier, overall impulsive decisions when it comes to what they say and do. We assume that the other person should be able to understand us- We’ve put up with them for all this time, haven’t we?

Realizing that having a mentality like this is toxic and draining to the other person as well is... difficult. It’s difficult to remember that they’re trying, and that they genuinely care about you too. The very same things that make them irritating are what make them a loving and caring person as well. It takes growth from the both of you to learn and understand each other. And growth takes time.

It’s 4AM at the time I’m writing this, and I’m far too tired to quote the entire phone scene, so I’m going to assume you’ve read it. 

A few lines from George:

“Can...can you stay on, for a bit? Can we just talk?”

“Please, Dream.”

“I just want to hear your voice.”

A few lines from Dream:

“George.”

“Stop,” he warned. “Stop that.”

“Don’t say that.”  //  “What is wrong with you?”

“Fuck, George. Why are you doing this to me?”

The reason Dream brings this up is because it highlights a moment where their general character roles in the fic are switched. In this scenario, it highlights a moment of hypocrisy. George is desperate, and vulnerable. The phone call dialogue showcases him doing something that he knows he shouldn’t be doing. “Can we not talk about this? Can we pretend this phone call didn’t happen?”

Now, plenty of ugly nights and long weeks later, he steps closer to George in the grocery aisle as an unconcerned passerby skirts around their cart and conflict.  

I’m not sure why I like this line. It feels like a gentle reminder that in the grand scheme of things, your conflict is small. Insignificant to the rest of the world, mattering to you two and only you two. Makes everything a bit more personal, I guess.

He looms over him, wishing he could melt the bristling anger from his brown eyes, and wishing he had it in himself to be angry, too.

I relate to both sides of this. That gut-wrenching feeling of not being able to find your own anger at someone who is angry at you. The feeling of knowing that your anger is frustrating and hurting someone else, too. Either way, it feels absolutely terrible.

“You called me,” Dream recounts, even though he can tell George remembers it as vividly as he. “You talked to me.” He lets out a short, frustrated breath. “Then you got mad at me the next morning, and iced me out.”

Doing the same thing that you hated the other person for doing, and taking it out on them afterwards. Yeah.

(dakota. dream. can you pls stop calling me out through george i would really really really appreciate it thank u) /hj /lh 

“Because you let it happen,” George says, but he looks more vulnerable than before.

blame game here we go againnnnn

Dream stares down at him. “So it’s all on my shoulders,” he reiterates flatly. “It’s all my responsibility, now?” 

“Yes,” George spits, his sharpness startling them both. He meets Dream's gaze, unwavering, and recollects himself with a deep breath.

 “Yes. Because you made it your responsibility, when you sent me that text.”

George was ready to throw that blame right back into Dream’s face. When I saw that whole scene in Heat Waves, I realized how much I related to George in that particular situation. I knew it would come back, somehow. George wouldn’t be able to let something as huge as that, something that shifted the entire course of their relationship...slide so easily. Even with Dream’s eventual promise to work on himself. The whole time, I was thinking, “He’s too nice. He’s too patient,” and, “I wouldn’t be that nice. I wouldn’t be that patient. Not on the inside, at least.”

And you didn’t fail me. That final jab, although relatable- It hurt.

Now that the screens are off, the distance is gone, and the barriers are thinner than ever before, George’s flaws are becoming more transparent. We start to see other parts of his character that had only been foreshadowed in your previous work. I had no idea how Helium would unfold at the beginning, but I’m now very sure that you did not disappoint.

Seeing how you’ve evolved as a writer in both more subtle and more noticeable ways has been awesome :) I’m excited for the next chapter.

[hockeyboysiguess]

driver’s license | b. boeser

a/n: so i was listening to driver’s license on repeat and this happened out of the blue in the last 2 hours. @brockadoodles, hope you like this surprise!

word count: 2,027

wine pairing recommendation: an old favorite, something you love and trust.

warnings: a couple swear words. 

You let out a long breath that lingered in the winter air inhabiting your car and cranked it slowly. The engine turned over a couple of times and you cursed a little under your breath. Your brother was supposed to have driven it while you were away, but he always said he forgot which was just his way of saying he hated your car. But she was Old Faithful for a reason and the engine turned on anyway. You breathed out a sigh of relief that turned into a groan as a familiar sound floated through your car of a voice you knew all too well saying your name softly. You slammed the button on the sound system to switch to the radio as your heart pounded in your chest. You didn’t need to hear that today. You weren’t sure you ever needed to hear that CD again. 

You didn’t even consider ejecting it from its permanent home in the otherwise unused CD slot. It lived there in your car that felt like a relic from a past life, a life in which the voice on that CD had a starring role in. That life wasn’t yours anymore, but we all keep tokens from the past, even from our lowest of years, because we can’t bear to part with things that once were our most prized possessions. 

You really should have paid attention to the radio station you had last played, but you didn’t and you paid the price for that decision. 

“Brock Boeser and the Vancouver Canucks were in town tonight and absolutely destroyed the Wild in a 3-0 shutout, with two goals from local Minnesotan Boeser. Remember his draft year? The Wild passed on him and I don’t think he’s ever forgotten it. He really feels like the one that got away for Minnesota, doesn’t he?” 

You switched radio stations, but the damage was already done and tears were clouding your vision. His name, just his name, was enough to do it sitting in this godforsaken car, the car he’d named, the car whose flat tires he’d changed at least five times, the car he’d jumped into the second after you’d gotten your license, the car you had driven aimlessly around his neighborhood once he left. But they had to say the one that got away, didn’t they? The radio show hosts had to be in cahoots with The Universe, who really wanted to pull the old scars over your heart apart with careless word choices and reminders of days that were so infinitely happier than the ones you were living now. 

Some dull pop song was flowing through your speakers now and you tried to focus on the entirely mediocre lyrics that matched the dull beat to center yourself in the mediocrity of it all. The opposite of your pain wasn’t happiness; it was the absolute middle between the two, the void where emotions didn’t inhabit. The problem was Brock Boeser hung over every inch of this car, every inch of this town, every inch of who you used to be. That emotionless void was entirely inaccessible to you in this moment. All you had was the ache in your chest with the terrible option to bury it under artificial joy. The pain you felt when you thought about him bled through your forced smile. It was too real, too raw still years later, the wound still somehow made fresh again by being back here to be covered. 

All you had was your pain, shitty pop music, and a passenger seat that somehow still belonged to Brock and it fucking sucked. 

You put the car in drive and turned right out of your driveway even though all your problems came with you anyway. The chill of the Minnesota winter was slowly dissipating as you drove mindlessly. Except no one ever really drove mindlessly. You made a series of lefts and rights without thinking, which meant your mind was really driving a path it knew so well you didn’t need to think about it as you did it. Minds, even when people thought they were being thoughtless, really weren’t all that random at all. You found yourself in Brock’s old neighborhood and you let out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob that shook your aching chest. Of course your mind would bring you here when he was the only thing on it. 

The first time you drove through these suburban streets on your own was so long ago now, but you took the same path you were taking now. This was the first place you’d gone after getting your license, freshy and shiny and new, burning a hole in your wallet and the only place you’d wanted to go was to Brock’s. It hadn’t surprised your mother when you’d pulled up at your house fresh off your driver’s test and hadn’t even reached for the keys. She knew with one look where you wanted to go, and she waved you off as she got out. You’d had the biggest smile on your face as you drove these streets for the first time alone, heading straight for the person who had been the most excited for you to get your license. You had barely remembered to put the car in park before running to hug him and kiss him as words of pride spilled from his lips. He climbed into your passenger seat, where he practically lived that whole summer, where he told you he wanted to be with you forever, forever be in your passenger seat watching you achieve your dreams. 

Forever for Brock Boeser didn’t last past October of that year when he was in North Dakota and you were still here, driving the same goddamn streets you were driving now, driving through memories of your time together in your mind as you rolled through familiar intersections from your past. Years had gone by, and still a piece of Brock lived in a part of your heart like his voice lived on the mixtape still living in the CD slot of your car. You could go weeks, months even, without knowing he was there, especially when you weren’t in town, but something would always remind you of him. You’d see his face in a crowd, hear his name on the radio, drive past a road with the same name as one in his familiar neighborhood and you’d be reminded of him and the love for him that was embedded in your heart. That piece of him was so deep in your heart it couldn’t be surgically removed. There weren’t enough dates to go on, alcohol bottles to find the bottom of, enough love to try to create with other people, that would expel that piece of him you still carried in your heart. You hadn’t found anything that had even come close to him and the love you had for him. So your love for him stayed exactly where he’d left it in your heart and on a poorly burned CD in your car. 

Your friends had to hate you for him now, how you always compared everyone to him. They didn’t understand why you did and honestly, neither did you. You and Brock were young and reckless and stupid, but the love you shared was real and raw and clumsy and fucking beautiful. You knew what a sunset made of blood reds, vibrant oranges, sharp yellows and deep purples looked like; one that was just shades of yellow wouldn’t do. You couldn’t forget what loving him felt like, but as far as you could tell, he had forgotten what loving you was like. Maybe he just never felt about you like you’d felt out him, otherwise, how could he have moved on like he had? He had this whole life, this whole other world, in Vancouver you’d only heard about in poorly remembered stories from people with several degrees of separation between them and him. He sounded like he was doing fucking swell without you and all you could think was that forever apparently left you driving through his streets alone with only memories of him and red lights to keep you company. 

You hesitated before doing it because you knew what it would do, but you were already starting to cry again. All you wanted was to hear his voice again, hear the way it used to sound like when he talked about you sitting in this car, driving through these streets. You switched back to the CD and pressed play. 

“Hey baby, I hope this works? I don’t really know what I’m doing, but you got your license and I’m so proud of you. I can’t always be bugging you in your passenger seat, being the best DJ ever, so I figured I’d make you a little CD so you can have my amazing DJ talents with you wherever and whenever you go. I love you!”

The tears were flowing now. Hearing the way he told you he loved you, the way the words were somehow heard directly in your heart and made it twist in your chest, made you remember why it hadn’t worked out with anyone else. The way Brock told you he loved you was better than how anyone else had ever tried. You walked down sidewalks holding other people’s hands and remembered the way his hand used to feel in yours when you walked down the same sidewalks in this neighborhood you were in now, past the same front yards you were passing now. The way he loved you clouded every moment you had ever tried to deny that he wasn’t your one great love. He was the person you had envisioned your future with, a future that included buying the blue house at the end of the street you were on now and pulling into that very driveway every night, sliding into bed with him, living with him, loving him forever. 

Instead of that ideal forever, you were turning onto his street alone in the waning sunlight with tear-stained cheeks, remembering how much simpler and better everything was with him. The street was practically empty but as you got close to the house you knew as well as your own, your breath hitched in your throat with worry that someone would be there. Of all the empty houses, someone being in the driveway at Brock’s would be your luck. You came over the hill and exhaled upon seeing the driveway empty, before checking your rearview mirror and letting your car slow to a crawl. You could practically see him there, all the times he’d run out that front door and into the passenger seat, off to the lake, to your favorite dinner, to the fourth best but still your favorite park around, to even just driving around these same neighborhood streets when he needed to breathe and forget the weight he carried in that house. 

You slowed to almost a stop in front of his house, letting your car roll forward as you tried to will the memories to sit more comfortably on your mind and in your chest to no avail. You didn’t notice someone appear in the driveway until it was too late, until they had already seen you. Blonde hair peaked out the back of a blue hat that sat backwards on his head. An old beat up North Dakota sweatshirt covered his broad chest, broader now that it had been when he had been yours, gray sweatpants, and sneakers he had thrown on to do some mundane task, probably to get the mail for his dad. There he was, standing in the driveway, looking at you and for a second, you thought he was thinking the same things you were, longing for them in the same way you were. 

He mouthed your name, disbelief written on his face, and started walking toward your car. You shifted it into park, because after all this time, all the pain, all the broken promises of forever, he was still Brock Boeser and you couldn’t leave him hanging when he called your name.