#I might update this post tomorrow with a picture of the hole in the wall because it would be funny | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thewritingginger · 4 years

Note

Hi~ :3 I wanna request... 14th from the nice list with.. Either Theo from ikemen vampire or Satan from obey me :D! Thank you in advance!! :3

Company & Cocoa

Hope you enjoy it! :3

Prompt: Nice #14: ‘Gets Cocoa Together.’ Fandom: Obey Me! Pairing: Satan x GN! Reader Word Count: 2,238 Words Warning(s): N/A

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

It's the first day of winter break and you were waiting at the set location you and Satan had agreed to meet up at.

You have been long distance for the past couple months since you had to go back to your world to help some demon exchange students acclimate, with you being a human and have experience living and dealing with demons you were the perfect match for the job. So having to leave for the foreseeable future was disheartening for the both of you.

But you guys talk everyday through your D.D.D.s. Giving eachother little updates throughout the day and when it became night for you, Satan would call to tell you goodnight and to hear your voice. It hasn’t been the easiest time apart considering the drastic shift from seeing each other everyday to only being able to do so through a screen.

So that’s why since being apart you both were planning for this visit.

“I just got off the train. I should be there in about 15 minutes, maybe 10 if I try hard enough.” Satan says through the phone.

“Make it 5! I can’t wait any longer to see you.” You say, making him laugh.

“You got it. I’ll make a run for it then.” He says

“Perfect.” You say, as you disconnect the line.

Leaning against a lamp post, waiting for your demon to appear after about 8 minutes you can hear footsteps coming your way. Turning around you see a slightly winded Satan jogging towards you. Your chest bubbles over with excitement and you run to meet him halfway, as soon as your body is near Satan drops his bag and takes you in his arms for a huge hug. Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, legs encircling his waist, he spins you around. Stood there panting with exhaustion from his run he pulls his head back to look at you. A soft chuckle leaves his lips,

“Sorry for keeping you waiting. I tried to make it in 5 minutes but I guess I wasn’t fast enough.” His words make you laugh.

“Just shut up and kiss me already you idiot.” You say.

Not wishing to let you down, he meets your request once again and presses his lips against yours. The feeling of his touch and the smell of his cologne fills your senses. You’ve been waiting for this moment the second you left Devildom and you know he had too.

Reluctantly pulling away he gently places you back on the ground. “How about we get back to my place so you can settle in.” You say, looping your arm with his. “Yes, that sounds great.” He says.

Now back at your temporary apartment, Satan drops his bag by the door.

“Damn, this is a nice place Diavolo got you.” He says looking around at the generously sized two bedroom apartment.

“Yeah tell me about it. I’m really going to enjoy this week, since I’ll have you to help fill it out. It's kinda lonely here all by myself.” You respond.

Going in to hug him, you bury your face into his firm chest. Enjoying the feeling of being back in his arms once again. You both spend a moment to enjoy each other's presence, but this time in silence. Nothing but the sound of his heartbeat and your breath to be heard. Gently swaying side to side, in a stationary dance. How you wished you could stay like this forever. Wrapped in his strong arms, his heart beating like a drum against your ear. A couple minutes pass before you tear yourself away from him, letting out a sigh you smile. “We should get you unpacked.” You say as you take his bag. “The bathroom is right here if you want to take a shower and I’m putting your bag in my room.” You hauler from down the hall. Taking you up on your offer he responds with a subtle, “Ok.” as he enters the bathroom to do just that.

Thirty minutes had passed. While Satan was in the shower you had gone ahead and put the dinner you had prepared for the two of you before he got there into the oven. With about 15 minutes left on the timer you see your boyfriend round the corner in just a pair of pants and towel in hand drying off water droplets dripping from his golden locks. You watch how his muscles move under his skin with every drag of the towel. You obviously missed everything about him while you two were apart and sure you both have sent pictures here and there but nothing beated seeing him in person. Your eyes roam his body once more, your arm crossed as you lean on your elbow at the bar of the kitchen, in a trance once you get to his face and you see his lips cut in a sly smirk.

“Having fun there?” He asks. Laughing at how you straighten up, coming out of your dazed state. You laugh as well,

“What can I say, I missed you.” Walking towards you he catches your lips once again.

“I missed you too.” He says. Eyes locked with yours in longing. He smiles and pulls away, “What are you cooking? It smells really good.” He asks. Walking over to the oven you open the door to check the, “Chicken casserole. It should be done here in about five, ten minutes.” You say.

For the rest of the night you and Satan ate and cuddled up on the couch, talking, laughing and kissing. Lots and lots of kissing. At about midnight you stood up,

“Well I think we should be getting to bed, I have plans for us tomorrow.” You say, stretching your arms above your head. Nodding in agreement Satan got up and followed suit to your bedroom for the night.

~~~

You are awoken by the sun beaming through the window, practically blinding you when you crack your eyes open. Groaning a bit you roll over to encircle the body that should’ve been there. Feeling around a bit you opened one eye to see that Satan wasn’t there. Looking at the clock that reads 08:23 am you stretch before sitting up and reluctantly get out of your warm cocoon to find your boyfriend. Opening your bedroom door you hear the sound of the sink running, turning the corner you see Satan in the kitchen doing the dishes from the night before. “Good Morning.” You yawn. Catching his attention.

“Morning. Sleep well?” He asks, continuing to load the dishwasher.

“Yeah.” You say lazily as you walk behind him you get a cup of the freshly brewed coffee. Once fully prepared you walk over to take a seat at the kitchen bar, resting your head on your propped hand, taking a small sip from your cup. “Not that I’m complaining but you know you don’t have to do those. You’re the one visiting me, not to mention it's also eight in the morning.” You say. “It’s no problem. Since you made dinner, I thought I’d do the dishes.” He says.

Turning the sink off and drying his hands he walks over to you. Wrapping his arms around you, your back pressed into his chest. Resting his chin on your shoulder he kisses your cheek. Breathing in your scent mixed with the aroma of coffee, sighing in bliss. “And besides that I enjoy doing things like this for you. It makes it feel like we actually live together doesn’t it?” He says. His cheesy words make your heart swell. “Yeah I guess it does.” You say taking another sip of your coffee.

“Well enough of that sappy talk, I have somewhere I want to take you.” You say jumping out off the bar stool. Satan laughs at your shift in demeanor. He follows you down the hall to the bedroom to change for the day. “Where are you taking me?” He asks.

“Well if I told you what’d be the fun in that. Just get changed and you’ll see.” You say

It’s a crisp day in the city and you can’t wait to get into the cafe you’re bringing Satan to. “It’s right over here.” You say pointing at the sign that reads ‘The Sip & Read Cafe’. Opening the door to the cafe you are met with a much invited warm gust of air. Walking in shaking off the last of the chill in your body you sigh. You look up at Satan as he takes a quick glance around. “So, what do you think? It’s a book cafe. When I first saw it I thought it’d be fun to bring you here, but we don’t have to stick around very long if you don’t want to.” You say.

“No this is perfect.” He says. Smiling down at you, warmed by thought. “How about you go find us a table and I’ll go get us something to drink.” He says. Nodding your head with a hum, you part ways to do your respective duties.

You find a perfect little nook in the back of the cafe with nobody around. There weren't many people around to begin with, other than a handful of people checking out the books, getting coffee or working on their laptops. I guess that’s what happens when you get there at about nine in the morning on a weekday.

While in thought and looking around at the bookcases, Satan returns with two cups of cocoa.

“Here you go, Kitten. This should warm you up.” He says, taking his seat across from you.

“This place is really nice. If you don’t mind after we eat, I’d really like to look around a bit.” He says.

Putting your cup down, licking the chocolate residue from your upper lip you respond.

“We can stay as long as you want. Also you know you can buy the books here too.” You say. His eyes light up at your words making you giggle. “Well then, we might be here a while.” He says. Smiling at you, you can’t help but return the favor. You really love your bookworm and seeing him excited is just as exciting for you.

After you both have finished your cocoa and eaten some food you both begin to wander around looking at all the books. This place held a lot more than you’d originally think at first glance but there are two stories to it. The main floor is where the cafe is and of course there were bookshelves down there but there is also a second part. Going up the little staircase at the back you reach the loft. That circles around the three walls that are covered floor to ceiling with books, leaving a hole in the floor guarded by a railing you can look down into the cafe from. Once you’ve taken it all in you notice that Satan is already thumbing through a book. Smiling to yourself you begin looking around as well.

The next few hours were filled with just that. You and Satan taking out books, showing each other ones of interest and even sitting down in the loveseat in the corner to read a few pages.

Once it struck about 1 pm you felt your stomach growl which was your cue that it was time to go. “Hey baby, if you’re ready I think we should go get some lunch.” You say, looking up hoping you didn’t lose your boyfriend forever, but he responds.

“Yeah I think I’m ready.” He says. Coming up behind you, you turn around to see him hold five books.

“You sure you got enough to survive the rest of the week?” You ask sarcastically. He laughs, draping his arm over your shoulder as you head for the stairs. “I think so but I might not get much reading done while I’m here with you.” He says. Detaching from you so you both can travel down the narrow staircase.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You ask. Reaching the bottom of the stairs he turns around, looking up at you he cracks a side smile.

“Lets just say that I have a few days to make up for a few months missed from you.” He says. Giving you a quick wink before he turns to go pay for his books. Stopped at the base of the stairs you watch him walk to the counter, your heart flutters a bit at the implications. Shaking your head at his shamelessness you go wait by the door for him.

Once he's finished being ringed up he comes up behind you. “Ok let's go home and eat. Shall we?” He says, wrapping his arm over your shoulder. “Yes, please I’m starving.” You say as you open the door to leave.

As you’re walking down the bustling sidewalk, his arm wrapped around your shoulders keeping you warm he leans into you a bit. “Thanks for taking me there.” He says. Smiling, you respond with a gentle, “It was no problem.”

“Oh, so I take it you wouldn’t mind if we came back here tomorrow then.” He says with a cheeky smile.

“I mean if you really want to we can. But you have to get me another cocoa if we do.” You say. Chuckling at your requirement. Pulling you in closer kissing your cheek he responds “Of course, Kitten.”

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

I hope you enjoyed reading and wanted to get some cocoa after. I know it wasn’t totally Cocoa based but it was mentioned xD

(Also I just made up the cafe name so idk if there is actually a cafe called that or not lol)

I just want to say that since I have the end of semester in school coming up at the beginning of December so uploads will be happening but yeah it’ll be slow :)

💛 ~

#OBEY ME #obey me game #shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me satan #satan #satan x reader #fluff #Christmas prompts 2020 #holidays 2020 #naughty or nice list #nice list #request

47 notes · View notes

evqnbuckley · 4 years

Text

Chapter 1: Hopeless

Okay so i wrote my thoughts on what I wanted the finale to be and this got out of hand...this is like almost if not 6k and i’m not even finished. If this is popular enough I’ll continue to post on here but I’m gonna continue to update on ao3! @princesscas

Sam awakens from his nightmare, disoriented. The visions of seeing himself grow old, having a family and dying feel all too real. The beginning of his nightmare is fading and somewhat fuzzy but he remembers Dean making an appearance. He remembers seeing himself fight alongside his brother, killing some vampires, a normal hunt. Then his memory clears and the image of his brother impaled against a wooden pole catches his breath.

He wipes a hand across his face, trying to erase the images of Dean saying goodbye, of Dean's hand dropping as he took his last breath, and the image of lighting his own brother's pyre.

Sam pulls the covers off and walks toward the kitchen for a glass of water. The bunker is quiet, peaceful even. He still hasn't gotten used to calling it home, not really. The thing about a home is, four walls don't constitute it. Family is similar. It's not based on who you're related to but who loves you and has your back. Family, a home, whatever they are things you build around you. He had learned that long ago.

The wooden floors creak as he walks through the library. The silence is deafening yet comforting. It's a reminder that, for once, the world isn't ending. The linoleum sends shivers down his spine as he enters the kitchen. Sam replays the nightmare in his head while he downs a glass of water from the sink. The images slowly become distorted and misplaced in his memory. He eventually cannot picture it in his mind.

Sighing, Sam places the glass in the sink and walks back to his room. His feet make a pit-pat noise, approaching the hallway. Dean's door is cracked open slightly with faint light seeping through. Sam turns toward the door and peers in. His face softens, taking in the scene. Dean is cuddling a pillow adorned with a worn, rough, blue pillow case. The light emits from a lone lamp on his desk. Some type of paper for a mechanic position sits atop a few books from the library. Sam eyes the paperwork, puzzled. Dean never told me he got a job. Underneath, one of the books has a bookmark in three different places. There are a few crumpled up papers on and around the floor. Sam picks one up and unravels it.

Cas I know you're in the empty and you probably can't hear me….why did you do it? Why didn't you tell me about the deal before? I know I messed up and Billie was about to kill us both but….we could have died together found another way.

Why didn't you tell me?

Sam picks up another one. This time it's the one closest to the trash can. The markings are a bit sharper than the paper before. Almost more angry. It appears some words are smudged but still legible.

I try to move on and put on a brave face for Sammy. He needs to know now that Chuck is gone we can move on. We have to. I have tried to find a way to bring you back Cas. None of the books are fucking useful. I can't read Enochian. I don't even know if Enochian text is the key to saving you. I've tried contacting Rowena but i think she's busy. I'm at my wits end. I haven't gotten much sleep to be honest. As I'm writing this I have looked through 28 books all based on portals to other dimensions, hell, sacrificial rituals and reverse rituals. Even Astral projecting. I don't know what to do….

Sam swallows past the dry lump caught in his throat. He glances at Dean, making sure he's still asleep. Dean briefly shifts, pulling the pillow closer. Sam relaxes and picks up one more crumpled up paper. This one appears fresh, as if Dean wrote it tonight.

I tried praying to the angels. They didn't listen. No one is listening. Jack isn't even listening. He took himself out of the story, I know but this is you I'm talking about. How can he just sit by while you're suffering. I guess I'm on my own.

Why did you say that now?

The last sentence confuses Sam. He burrows his eyebrows as he studies the three entries. Dean is searching for a way to save Cas. To bring him back. And he didn't tell me? Sam quietly crunches the papers back up and places them back where he found them. Dean doesn't move. As Sam switches the lamp off, he feels the heaviness of the dark engulf him. I have to talk to Dean tomorrow.

Dean rolls over as the aroma of burnt bacon fills his room. He rubs the sleep from his eyes as he sits up. Realizing that Sam is about to burn the bunker down, he slips on his robe and jogs to the kitchen.

"What the hell are you doing in my kitchen?"

"Well good morning to you too," Sam replies a bit offended. He's flipping bacon as Dean yanks the tongs out of his grip. "What- I am making breakfast. Can I not make breakfast?"

"I don't know what you think you're making but it definitely, definitely ain't breakfast," Dean smarts. He trashes the burnt bacon and starts a new batch. "Sit. No, why don't you make some coffee."

"Already did. Here ya go," Sam slides Dean's mug across the island, "your highness," Sam says under his breath.

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

"Yeah, me too," Sam perks up. "I think I found something that screams our kinda thing. We should head there after we eat breakfast. It's not too long of a drive." Dean finishes as he places the cooked bacon on some paper towels and grins from ear to ear. Sam just watches as his brother starts on some scrambled eggs. This might be more challenging than I had hoped.

"So when you said our sorta thing you meant pie?"

"I meant pie," Dean confirms with a satisfied smirk. "Now, I'm gonna go eat me some of that pie."

"Didn't we-Dean we just had breakfa- nevermind," Sam gives in and follows Dean through the crowd.

Several families are participating in the pie fest. Some are gearing up to find out who can eat the most pie, who makes the best pumpkin pie, and some are just making whip cream pies and pieing each other. Sam observes those around him with a small smile. A life he desperately wants someday but knows he can't have. Or can I?

Dean approaches Sam with a big box and almost runs into some bystander. "Hey, watch it."

"What is that?" Sam raises an eyebrow.

"I couldn't pick just one! Come on, Sammy we're at a pie fest. What do you take me for?"

"An idiot."

Dean ponders his answer and let's it slide. He picks up one of the pies and offers it to his brother. Sam declines. "Dude, you gotta at least try it."

"No, really I'm good."

"Alright, what is it? What's got you so down today?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," Sam replies.

"No, see I know my baby brother. So I know that is your sad Sam face. Fess up, what's wrong?"

"I'm not-" Sam begins, but Dean gives him a look.

"I don't know. I'm just thinking about Cas, about Jack."

Dean's expression falls. He looks down and places the pie back in its spot. "Yea me too. I think about them too. Every day. But we have to move on, Sam. Live our lives. Or else that sacrifice, it will all be for nothing," Dean looks at Sam. "So help me finish this pie."

Dean reaches down for the same pie again but his face is met with a cold surface. Sam smothers the pumpkin pie in Dean's face, laughing. "You know what, I do feel better!"

Sam shakes his hand to free the whip cream, watching Dean rake the remainder of the pie off his chin with his fork. Suddenly, Sam's temples begin pulsing painfully and he has an immense sense of deja vu. His smile falters and he feels out of place. Almost, as if he's reliving this moment. It's similar to the feeling he had this morning.

"Hey, Sam. You okay?"

"Uh, yeah." He's not honestly sure if everything is okay.

Sam texts Eileen and tells her he wants to make up for the date they missed months ago. She agrees it has been too long and tonight would work for her. Sam doesn't want to make promises, as the day is still young, but they plan for their date tonight at 7. Dean teases Sam about it even though the two are already a couple. Saying things like, "don't do anything I wouldn't do" or "make sure you use protection." Sam just sighs and shakes his head.

It's 6:35 pm and nothing has come across the wire. Social media is quiet, so Sam texts Eileen that the date is a go. She replies five minutes later, ready to go and excited to see Sam. Dean offers to let Sam take the Impala out to pick Eileen up. For once in a long time, Sam is excited. When he reaches the garage door, Sam glances back at his brother and sees him nursing a brand new whiskey bottle. Sam frowns at the sight. Dean deserves to feel excited, to be happy. Sam will go on this date with Eileen, tell her about Cas, and they will come back to help Dean. Help Dean get his best friend back. Our best friend back .

Dean waves his brother off and slumps into the chair in the library. It's not very comfortable. In fact, the wooden back is digging into his thoracic spine and causing some pain. But it's better than the alternative. The alternative of thinking about what he's lost, who he's lost, and how he lost them. That pain will never go away. Right now I can focus on this acute pain and center my thoughts on it. Keep myself from sinking into the dark hole of nothing I've been trying to climb out of since I lost - since I lost

Dean finishes the whiskey bottle before Sam gets home and he's still not drunk enough. He rises from the chair and walks to the liquor cart. All the bottles are half empty or nothing but drops of whiskey, gathering at the bottom of the glass. He picks up one empty glass bottle and stares at it for several moments. His vision becomes distorted from the small glass textures, his left ear begins to ring from the silence as he falls into a trance like state. Then, a glint of sapphire reflects in the textured glass. It catches his eye; Dean swallows. Suddenly, he's thinking of Castiel. Cas. He's thinking of "I love you's" and "Goodbye, Dean" and black goo. He's thinking of how the image of his best friend disappearing into a black mass of nothing is seared in his memory forever. He's thinking of how he didn't get to say goodbye, or anything really, and now he never will.

He grimaces at the bottle, squeezes the neck so hard his knuckles blanche, and throws it across the room, into the kitchen. It lands by the island, shattering to pieces, with a deafening crash. Dean feels his eyes burning and hot tears gathering at the corners. Before he realizes, Dean is grabbing all the glass bottles and throwing them into the kitchen. In his fit of rage, Dean throws one bottle too high and it shatters against the side of the kitchen table. Glass spreads across the floor. He doesn't even register the intensity of the mess until one bottle knocks off another, shattering it at his feet. He stops throwing the bottles, breaking from his trance.

"I tried everything! I can't save you! There's nothing left! How could you do this to me, you son of a bitch," Dean cries. He places his hands on either side of his head, thinking. "Jack! How can you just leave us? We need you. Cas needs you! Fuck this all powerful, all knowing God bullshit. We're family!" Dean tosses the cart over. "Isn't that enough?" He pauses and glances around for a moment. Nothing. "Dammit, Jack. Why won't you answer my prayers? I need some help!" He cries out and slowly sits down. "I can't do this on my own," he whispers between his sniffles. He begs over and over again please please please in his head for a few moments. But he's met with silence like every other time. Dean accepts this and wipes his tears away, picks the cart up, grabs the broom and dustpan from the kitchen and picks up his mess. He can't have Sam see what a hypocrite he truly has become.

Dean cuts himself on a few lone pieces of glass, but it's nothing he can't handle. In fact, for a brief moment, the pain gives him something to focus on. He mindlessly watches the crimson slowly drain down the sink as he holds his palm under the running water. He wonders what it feels like to float down the water, through the pipes, through the darkness, into nothing. What is wrong with me? But that's where Cas is right now. A bunch of nothing. Dean grabs a hand towel and wraps it around his left hand before returning to the broom. The kitchen is just about clean. Within about 5 minutes, all the glass and spilled whiskey is gone. Almost as if it never happened. Dean places the broom and dustpan back in the corner and trudges through the hallways.

There is a secret stash of whiskey in his man cave that Dean hid for emergencies. And this constitutes an emergency. He walks to the wall, removes a Star Wars poster from the fifth movie, and pulls out a few bricks, revealing the beautiful brown bottle of Jack Daniel's. Not his favorite but Dean was in a rush when he bought it a couple of weeks ago before they defeated Chuck just in case anything went sideways. Also, in case Sam found his stash at least it wouldn't be his good whiskey. Popping the cap off, Dean takes a long swig as he stumbles toward the couch. Sam should be home soon. I'll be done with this bottle by then and be able to forget anything blue for a while. Except all he dreams of is blue.

Bright blue swirls fill his dreams as he drifts off. He feels immense warmth as the blue wraps around him like a large ribbon and he floats above the grass. The ribbon caresses Dean like a soft, silk cloud, holding him in place. A slight breeze causes the ribbon to ripple in harmony and alternate between hues of blue. The colors circulate between indigo to azure to cobalt to cerulean to teal and finally midnight blue effortlessly. Dean sees dark angels wings above and feels safe. He flies higher as the ribbon ascends toward the wings. Flashes of cerulean eyes skip by, sad and yearning, before Dean is pulled down into dark azure ocean water by the wings. The ribbon of blue dissolves into nothing. Dean feels alone. In dreams, people don't usually have their sense of smell, but Dean swears he smells hints of sandalwood, a campfire, and honey. Then, he sees Castiel materialize before him with his wings extended, long and wide. Beautiful. They're untouched with no sign of rebellion or impurities. Just as Dean had first seen them. Before he met me. Before he rebelled and lost everything for me. I cursed you, Cas. Green eyes lock with blue and Castiel smiles at Dean. Then suddenly, Castiel's wings begin to dissipate and burn away. He appears to scream in pain. Dean reaches out just as soon as the water darkens and swarms around Castiel. He thrashes against the thick water but cannot break free. Dean is frozen in the water and at once cannot breathe. He screams out to Castiel but no sound comes out. He, instead, inhales the water. Castiel disappears within the black, thick water just as soon as he appears. He's gone.

Dean's eyes slowly open. This is a recurring nightmare he's had since Castiel sacrificed himself. Since he left. Dean had hoped the alcohol would impair his subconscious enough to avoid the nightmare. Beer hasn't been strong enough, nor tequila, or vodka. Whiskey is his last resort and apparently it does jack-shit. I need something stronger, if I am to get any sleep. Although the whiskey does not keep the nightmares at bay it does keep him numb. That is enough to continue drinking. He reaches for the bottle and misses. I may be seeing double. After a few tries, Dean successfully retrieves the bottle and downs the remaining third of the whiskey. His head feels heavy and his chest feels hot. Dean can feel his fingers tingling and toes numbing against his socks. This is the sweet spot of feeling drunk, he thinks.

Sam returns from his date, unnoticed, and walks into the room, seeing Dean spread out on the couch. He eyes the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table and sighs. Sam remembers the other whiskey bottle left on the library table. The same one Dean had been nursing before Sam left. Dean is on a bender again. Eileen shuffles up next to Sam and glances at the couch. She looks at Sam with a sad look. At dinner, he filled her in with everything he knows about Castiel and his sacrifice for Dean. But Eileen didn't realize it would affect Dean this badly. She walks over to Dean and pulls the blanket from on top of the couch and covers Dean. He's passed out again and is slightly twitching. His eyes are racing back and forth.

"We will regroup tomorrow and discuss Plan SOC," Sam whispers while signing.

"I'm still not sure about the code word," Eileen signs with a grimace.

"We'll work on it," he signs with a shrug.

The next morning Dean wakes to his Jack Daniel's replaced with three ibuprofen pills and a glass of water. Grateful, he slowly takes them one at a time due to the agonizing headache. Usually he doesn't have headaches or hangovers but the nightmares don't give him much rest. He really isn't able to sleep off the alcohol. Pressing the heel of his hands into his eyes to push back the headache, Dean sighs with exhaustion. He doesn't even know what time it is. His watch reads 4:32 but Dean is unsure if it's AM or PM.

Suddenly, he feels his stomach growl and Dean realizes he hasn't eaten since about noon today. Yesterday? He sloppily rises up and makes his wake toward the kitchen. Nothing really sounds appetizing except for some string cheese. Only, they don't have string cheese. Of course. So, Dean settles for the two day old pepperoni pizza in the fridge. Not too bad, and he will never say no to pizza. Dean isn't sure how long he was passed out but the effects of the whiskey have certainly worn down a bit. He can't walk a straight line, but his vision is more clear. He clumsily carries the pizza box over to the library table next to his laptop and sits it down. Quietly, he pulls the chair out and takes a seat. The hunter in him wants to make sure everything is quiet out in the world. The clock on his laptop confirms its 4:38 AM.

A few clicks and searches show there's a local mysterious killing. Our kinda thing. Dean smiles, knowing that this case will help keep his mind busy. And he will be able to save someone. At least this way he will feel like his life was worth saving. Ironic. I feel like I've said that before. Why do people feel the need to jump at any chance to save me? I don't deserve saving. Dad sold his soul for me and now Cas. I don't deserve it. He shakes his head and munches down on cold pizza in silence.

Dean finishes the last three slices of pizza, underestimating how hungry he had been. He watches a few dumb YouTube videos for a while, to keep his mind off things, waiting for Sam to wake up. Dean is tempted to grab a beer from the fridge but decides against it. He needs to be as sober as possible for the hunt, for Sam. If Dean were to go alone, he would not care. Not at this moment anyway.

Dean has realized his mood swings are ridiculous lately. At one moment, he's super depressed and doesn't care about anything. He honestly doesn't care if he lives or dies. The next moment he can't wait to see what life has to offer. It's as if his brain doesn't know how to comprehend what Castiel's sacrifice means to him. His thoughts can become so tangled and incoherent Dean doesn't know how to act - what to say. That's why he started writing down some of his thoughts, and then thought how much of girl that made him and crumpled the papers up. Right now, he can really use a moment to write down his thoughts.

He grabs the notepad and pen on the table and scribbles away. I hate this feeling. What am I supposed to feel? Anger? Sadness? Relief? Emptiness? Frustration? All of the above? Others? You left me with so many unanswered questions and I left you with nothing in return. How am I supposed to go on knowing this? Cas, how can I go minute to minute, hour to hour, knowing what I know now? I fucked up. I had a chance to say what I've been wanting to say for a while and I couldn't. I didn't. Did you even know? I mean do I even fucking know? I can't even hate you to make myself feel better. I can't bring myself to say I hate you for doing this to me. Because I could never hate you. The paper becomes wet with a few tear drops. I will find you, Cas. Just wait for me.

Dean places the pen next to the notepad after a moment. He wipes his nose with his flannel sleeve. Not many tears fell but his nose is running pretty good. Out of all of his thought entries, this one felt the most cathartic. He sometimes pretends that Castiel can hear him read the words to himself or even hear him as Dean writes the words. Just as Castiel heard his prayer in Purgatory. But he doesn't. He won't. The empty is a dark and torturous place. My prayer and words will be the last things he'd focus on.

Dean lays his head on the table from exhaustion, but doesn't shut his eyes. He won't risk falling asleep. Instead, he focuses on counting the books on each shelf to his right. Then, once he's done with those he counts the ones on his left. Dean notices some of these books, he nor Sam even use. He doesn't know half of the content in these books. Unfortunately, Dean underestimated how counting can cause drowsiness no matter the subject at play. His eyes begin to drift when Sam walks in with loud footsteps.

Yawning, Sam says, "What are you doing in here? You should be in bed."

Dean jerks up, shaking his head from thoughts of sleep. "I found us a case," he replies.

"Mhm. Is that all you were looking for during the early morning?" Sam asks, eyeing the covered notepad. Dean notices and quickly turns it over.

"Sam," he warns. "mind your business."

"Good morning," Eileen joins the boys in the library.

Dean isn't too surprised to see her here but is happy for Sam nonetheless. "Morning, Eileen. I hope sasquatch here didn't take up the whole bed."

Eileen blushes and laughs at Dean. "I don't kiss and tell," she winks at Sam as she kisses him on the cheek. "Who wants breakfast?"

"Yes, please!" Sam signs.

Sam joins Dean at the table and a long beat passes between them. Sounds in the kitchen of water running, the clinking of plates, and banging of pans fill the silence instead. Dean repositions himself in the chair, still not making eye contact with Sam. Sam, however, is studying Dean. He appears disheveled, bags under his eyes, day old stubble and crust around his lips from dried whiskey. He's a wreck.

"So this case-" "We need to talk-" They start simultaneously.

Dean glances up for the first time. "You first."

"I know about Cas." Dean's eyes widen slightly. "At least I know there's more to the story. You didn't tell me everything and I know whatever happened is eating away at you." Dean gestures to dismiss Sam. "Dean, I know you. I can see it. I know when you get like this it's because of something close to you." Sam pauses. "I also read some of your crumpled up papers." A dark look crosses Dean's face. Almost like he wants to punch Sam.

"You did what?" Dean says.

Sam continues, ignoring Dean's comment. "I know you're trying to bring Cas back. I want to help," Sam offers.

Dean sighs, looking to the side. He knows the many dead ends and how disappointing it is trying to save Cas. He doesn't want to subject his brother to the very same thing. "It's no use, Sam. Everything is a dead end. I've tried everything I can think of. Cas is gone," Dean resigns, defeated. "All we can do now is save people, hunt things, and live our lives. It's what Cas would want. It's what everyone, who we have lost, would want."

"Dean," Sam starts. "You're giving up way too easily. There is always another way. Don't you always say that?" Dean doesn't respond. "I know how it may seem hopeless but we have options. We have the resources to continue the search to save him. You can't give up now, Dean. This is Cas."

"I've tried everything I can think of, Sam. Everything! Praying, research, calling Rowena. She doesn't answer. Jack is off grid. I've tried! There's nothing. He's gone!" Dean's voice cracks. He swallows down the pain. "We have to accept that. And however I deal with it is my business. So don't give me those judgy eyes like you are now." Dean says pointedly.

"But, Dean-"

"I said no Sam."

Dean gets up, signaling he's done with this conversation and takes the notepad with him. He doesn't even acknowledge Eileen as she brings breakfast to the library. "The case is pulled up on my laptop. I'm going to get ready." Dean turns the corner and is gone before Sam can reply.

Eileen's face falls as she holds a plate of french toast, bacon, sausage, and lots of syrup. Then one plate of regular scrambled eggs with toast for Sam. She sits the plates on the table and watches Dean leave. "Is he not hungry? I made his favorite." She says.

"It's not that, he's dealing with some, he's just-" Sam doesn't seem to know how to finish his sentence, or fully explain his brother's behavior.

"Cas?" Eileen offers. Sam nods.

Sam reads the case on Dean's laptop and begins to feel nauseated. He has a bad feeling. He, again, has a sense of deja vu. Two days in a row, it can't be a coincidence. It's like there is an itch at the back of his brain, crawling to the surface, wanting to show him something. He feels a headache come on and the pain is similar to when he used to get visions as a young adult. The pain grows stronger as the itch continues, pulling toward his frontal lobe.

Then, a flash of images of Sam and Dean dressed in their normal FBI threads quickly blink by. Another image of them at an abandoned barn fighting some strange, masked creatures. Sam recognizes the mask from Dad's journal. And then a burst of images, showing Sam and Dean fighting these creatures appear. They're vampires! The brothers are winning, slicing the vamp's heads off one after another. The last image shows Dean pushed against something sharp and… Oh no, Dean Sam thinks.

He grabs his head and shakes the images away. Groaning in pain, he sees he's on the floor. He must have fallen while the vision took over. Eileen is at his side, freaked out. She's signing, "Are you okay?" over and over again.

Slowly, Sam regains his thoughts and tells Eileen he's okay. Dean rushes by Sam's side by this point after hearing the loud thud from his fall. Dean places his hand on Sam's shoulder, in concern.

"Dude, what the hell happened? Say something. You alright?" Dean glances over Sam, and around the bunker, checking for any intruders.

"Yea, yea. I'm fine. I feel like I just got hit by a freight train. Like how my visions used to feel." He pauses. "I actually think I just had a vision." Sam looks at Dean with bewilderment and Dean returns the look.

"I'm sorry. Did you just say you had a vision?"

"Yea." Sam breathes.

"You haven't had one of those since you were like in your twenties and yellow eyes was after you. Why the fuck now?"

"I-I don't know. I thought it was a nightmare, but last night the same images played in my mind. I went all day yesterday feeling a sense of deja vu. The pie fest, reading the case, even eating breakfast."

All three are silent for quite a while. Their breakfast grows cold but no one pays it any mind. "What if it's a sign?" Eileen questions.

"Like from God, uh, Jack?" Sam offers.

Dean huffs in response. He knows damn good and well Jack is staying out of everyone's business. There isn't any possibility Jack is interfering. "I doubt it."

"It's possible," says Sam. "Maybe he has taken himself out of the narrative, but what if he's helping us still by guiding us through this vision?"

"He hasn't answered any of my damn prayers since two months ago. Why would he start now?"

"I don't know, change of heart?" Sam offers, half-heartedly.

Dean stands and laughs with a bitter shake of his head. "You honestly believe that? Come on, Sam. The kid has a new sense of almighty. We, you, me and Cas, we are now left in the dust. He said so himself. You're just having some freak migraine."

Sam stands, with Eileen in tow. She helps him up by the arm. "You're wrong. I know he's not like Chuck, and stays away, but he still cares. I know he sent me this vision to help us. All of us," Sam stares at Dean's glare of hopelessness. "I have faith, Dean."

"How can you be so sure? How can you be so positive that this is from Jack and he's trying to help us? Doesn't make a lot of sense that out of all the times I've asked for his help, to save Cas, or help me bring him back, he's now warning you of an ordinary hunt?" Dean says frustrated.

"Because in this hunt you die, Dean," Sam blurts out. Dean stays quiet. "You die and I have to go on without you. You leave me and I have to live a life without my brother."

Dean's gaze falls to the floor. He's quiet for a moment, processing this information. "You live a happy life?" He barely says.

"What?"

"After I die, do you go on having the whole white picket fence, apple pie life with the 2.5 kids?" Dean clarifies, calmly.

Sam searches Dean's face for any kind of sign of self actualization or will to live. "Why does it matter? I can still strive for that with you alive. We both can," he adds.

Dean smiles, that tired, sad smile. "No, Sammy. You and I both know as long as I'm alive you will always be in this life." He looks at Eileen. "You two will never have a chance at a happy, normal life with me around. Besides, hunting is what I do. There is nothing else for me. Not anymore.”

"That's not true," Eileen says, with tears in her eyes. She reaches out and places her hand on Dean's cheek, pleading for him to understand how wrong he is.

"It is. I'm the one that dragged you back into this life, Sam. I'm the only one keeping you here. Let me give you an out."

"Stop. Okay just stop. We are not going on this hunt. If you want to be suicidal, fine, but I'm keeping you out of danger. You are always so quick to jump in front of a gun or blade. Do you still care that little about yourself, Dean?" Sam searches his brother's eyes. "What about that job paperwork on your desk? You must have cared at some point. Wanted to live!" Dean is quiet. Sam sighs. "Cas wouldn't want you to die. He died to save you, remember? So, what I am going to do is bring Cas back. Are you going to help me?"

Dean ponders Sam's offer for a moment. "What about the people that will die, if we don't save them?"

"I'll call some hunters and give them a heads up on what to look out for when they go there. It'll be taken care of," Sam reassures.

Dean glances between Eileen and Sam. Fiddling with a loose string on the end of his flannel sleeve, he sighs. On one hand, he'd love to see Castiel again. He'd do anything- to hug him and tell him all the things he didn't get to say. But on the other hand, he's so tired. So very tired. There are no leads. And he's lost all faith in his search to save Castiel.

"Dean?" Sam starts.

"Okay. Let's bring Cas home."

#man i dont even know what to put in the tags #who do i tag #my writing #destiel #this is gonna be a journey

33 notes · View notes

bunnymcbunnister · 5 years

Text

SPN Season 15 Spoiler Sheet, update 11/11

Hello! I finally had some time to clean this up a bit. I am going to make a separate post about old episodes if anyone wants to reference the past. I also pulled out some general spoilers that have already happened to keep this shorter. It’s getting to be a monster with length.

As for updates, we got some nuggets from Jensen and Misha while promoting their latest projects. No pictures yet for ep 5 because of the holiday. Also no description for 7 yet because there will be a week off for Thanksgiving. Hopefully JaxCon will have some juicy updates like DC did. Under the cut!

DISCLAIMER: This is gathered info from various sources. This is not confirmed information. Stuff in this WILL be wrong. Don’t take this too seriously. This is for fun.

General Info (oldest to newest)

There is hope to wrap up some Wayward Daughters storylines in the back half of the season

They are adding a whole extra day to filming to do the final scene. They will film the final scene last. (Implies logistics- lots of returning people?)

Brad Bucker used the word “romance” when asked about Sam and Dean’s arcs. Did not specify who.

In an interview, Kripe indicated that the series ending would have “peace” for Sam and Dean

Not much new at the TCA’s, but it was said it is “unlikely” Jeffery Dean Morgan will be back since his last appearance was such a good end note. There were some jokes about a Castiel spin off. Hell, I’d watch.

There will be a special tribute ep, not clear if its one of the 20 or additional

Misha will be in 15 out of 20 episodes this season

According to Dabb, Sam and Dean are going to start to lose people who, in past seasons, we would’ve never lost — and lose them in a very real way. Our guys are going to realize there’s a certain finality, and some of the things they’ve relied on to get through the day — people, talents, things like that — they are no longer going to be able to roll out. And that’s going to throw them for a loop

Also according to Dabb, Jack is still in the empty and “he’s not coming back in the near future”

Cas’ deal with the Empty may come up later in the season.

Dabb intimated that Chuck was inherently responsible for killing Mary when asked how the boys would respond to Jack.

Adam Rose, who played Aaron Bass from the golem episode vauge-tweeted about working a show with two badass leads. Could be Supernatural, but I think the timing is off- he indicated he was filming late Friday night.

Dabb compared Chuck and John Winchester, claiming that Dean would have to break free of “conditioning.” Also, for Jack “there have been cosmic forces fighting for his attention since he was in the womb — and that will continue. As much as this season is about Sam and Dean finding agency, it’s also about Castiel finding agency, and it’s about Jack finding agency. As always, death is never the end. It’s just part of the journey and that’s certainly true with Jack.”

Per Variety: At the outset of the season, the “Supernatural” foursome of Dean, Sam, Castiel and Jack are split up, but Dabb notes they won’t be for long because “ultimately this is a found family, and they have deep emotional bonds” that make up the most important part of the show.

Sam’s wound from the equalizer gives his powers/an advantage of some kind (per TVGuide)

Jack will be a critical part of the ending of the show

The cage/Adam is looking like it will be coming up for midseason

Shaving People, Punting Things: https://youtu.be/azTwku2uosA

The shaving promo, punting things promo shows glimpses or Lucifer!Sam and MOC!Dean, as well as bearded Dean in tactical equipment. Recent interviews by Dabb seem to indicate that these are glimpses into other universes, a la Apocalypse World, and other endings from Sam and Dean.

According to the MarySue and other interviews, Sam’s bullet hole will give him a connection and insight to god- like a tin can telephone string.

In the cage, Micheal and Adam have formed a working relationship (MarySue)

Dean and Amara’s connection will be explored

There will be a bunker themed episode (MarySue)

According to Misha (Cinablend) Dean and Cas will have discord up to ep 8- which is the mid-season finale.

At a convention, Jake Abel was asked to share two lies about Adam’s return and a truth. The said 1. Adam is not upset about hell 2. Adam kills someone 3. Adam bring someone back. I am assuming its the bring someone back (Micheal?)

In one of his cookbook interviews, Misha used the word “we” several times when talking about the final scene of Supernatural. He said that would be the last scene they shoot. It seemed to imply that he was in the scene, but that could be open to interpretation.

The finale will air on Monday May 18th. The show will move to Mondays when it comes back on March 16th. It’s gotta come back either than that and go on a mini break or something, because that is not enough Mondays.

Episode 15x05

Title: Proverbs 17:3

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS: RICHARD SPEIGHT, JR. DIRECTS – Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean’s (Jensen Ackles) routine case turns out to be anything but. Richard Speight, Jr. directed the episode written by Steve Yockey (#1505). Original Airdate 11/14/2019.

Written by: Yockey

Director: Speight

Filming Dates: 9/4-9/13

Airdate: 11/14

Photos: http://www.ksitetv.com/supernatural/supernatural-spoilers-photos-proverbs-17-3/198575/

Promo:https://youtu.be/4Jo1--7WqHA

Sneak Peak:

Castiel? No Jack? doubtful

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info::

This will most likely be Yockey’s last episode.

Matt Cohen was around, but I imagine he is following directors to prep for his own debut directing.

Scenes were filmed in the bunker and in a wooded area. A woman could be heard screaming in the outside scene.

The bible verse referenced is: “The fining pot is for silver, and the furnace for gold: But the LORD trieth the hearts.”

The preview indicates werewolves.

Episode 15x06

Title: Golden Time

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS: OUT OF DIFFICULTIES GROW MIRACLES – Sam (Jared Padalecki) and Dean (Jensen Ackles) are visited by an old friend. Castiel (Misha Collins) investigates the disappearance of a local teen. John Showalter directed the episode written by Meredith Glynn (#1506). Original Airdate 11/21/2019.

Written by: Meredith Glynn

Director: Steve Boyum

Filming Dates: 9/16-9/25

Airdate: 11/21

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel? Yes Jack? Not sure

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info:

Misha tweeted from set in costume, so Cas.

Misha also tweeted a pic in blood spatter with two bullet holes in his shirt

At least Jensen and Jared filmed in Rowena’s apartment

This will be a witch episode- Witches will invade Rowena’s apartment looking for books. They are very powerful. Dean gets thrown into a wall and Sam uses magic to stop them (from TVGuide)

Episode 15x07

Title: Last Call

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Jeremy Adams

Director: Amyn Kaderali

Filming Dates: 9/26- 10/7

Airdate: Dec 7th is what Christian Kane tweeted…. But that is a Saturday. Dec 5th maybe?

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? Yes Jack ?

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info :

Misha posted from set in new shoes- very shiny with well tailored pants. (The next day he posted in full Cas costume, so are the shoes a one off? Another outfit with new shoes?).

Misha and Jensen made a video from set. I feel like if Jared was around he would have been in it since it was about money raised? Maybe a Dean Cas scene?

There will be a battle scene in this that Jensen mentioned he was looking forward to and we would enjoy.

After NJ Con, it appeared that Jensen returned to work, Jared and Misha stayed an extra day and then Misha went home. Misha only did about 2 days of filming.

Jensen and Christian filmed at a bar called Swazey’s. This was the fight scene Jensen was referring to.

At some point, Sam might be shirtless or we can see part of his chest- Jared had his anti-possession tattoo at the weekend convention.

Per TVGuide, Leo and Dean will have a wild night out in an effort for Dean to recapture his mojo. Dean will become the lead of a band called Dean and the Impalas, which is made up of Supernatural crew.

Osric Chau popped over to set, but he is filming on Legends of Tomorrow in the same studio. Sebastin Roche also indicated he would come by, he is filming on Batgirl. Unfortunately, neither Kevin or Balthazar will appear in this one.

Episode 15x08

Title: Our Father Who Aren’t in Heaven

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Buckleming

Director: Speight

Filming Dates: 10/8- 10/18 (no filming 10/14 for Canadian Thanksgiving)

Airdate: 12/12 (?)

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? yes Jack ?

Guest stars: Jake Abel, Shoshannah Stern

Other Spoilers/info:

Jake Abel posted a script with the caption “hell hath no fury like a brother scorned”

Shoshannah Stern was spotted on set- Eileen!

This will be the midseason finale

At BurCon, Misha mentioned Dean is still acting like “a dick” in the ep they were filming- which is this one.

Episode 15x09

Title:

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Berens

Director: Singer

Filming Dates: 10/21-10/30

Airdate: March 16th?

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? I can’t tell but maybe not Jack ? maybe

Guest stars: Rob Benedict, Kim Rhodes, Jim Beaver

Other Spoilers/info (newest to oldest):

Midseason premier episode

Misha was at home for the first week of filming, and I think the second. I don’t think he is in this.

Alex and Rob were hanging out- Chuck and JACK?

Kim Rhodes posted in front of the SPN set and with her trailer- Jody looks very likely. She also had dyed hair and she has been rockin the grey for the past few Jody eps. Maybe a flashback/AU?

Jim Beaver posted from set- Bobby!

Jensen shared that in this episode, Dean will pray to Cas to “confess” why he has been treating Cas the way he has. Misha confirmed this in another interview and said tears would be shed- not sure who is doing the crying (besides me)

Episode 15x10

Title:

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Dabb

Director: Showalter

Filming Dates:

Airdate: 10/31- 11/12 (No filming for Veterans/Armistice Day?)

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? Jack ?

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info (newest to oldest):

Misha texted some local fans from set in costume about an WA election, but after the convention was promoting his cookbook all over the place. I think he filmed 2 days, max.

The story will be about Sam and Dean as heroes from the good and bad side (from MarySue)

At DCCon, Jensen shared that this a bit of a wacky episode- Sam and Dean lose their abilities to fight, Dean gets cavities and Sam gets a cold. Jensen later seemed to refer to this ep when talking to TVGuide- mentioning the Impala will get a flat.

Episode 15x11

Title:

OFFICIAL SYNOPSIS:

Written by: Davy Perez AND Meredith Glynn

Director: Charles Beeson

Filming Dates: 11/13-11/22 (?)

Airdate:

Photos:

Promo:

Sneak Peak:

Castiel ? Jack ?

Guest stars:

Other Spoilers/info (newest to oldest):

#supernatural #spn spoilers #spn season 15 #spoiler sheet #castiel #dean winchester #Sam Winchester

28 notes · View notes

zenithlux · 4 years

Text

Cadence Update - CH 10

In which Vergil learns a little bit more. But it’s all business. Of course.

Catch up on the story here!

Welcome back to Cadence ya’ll! I know I’m posting this a day early, but I have a project I have to finish up tonight and tomorrow, so I figured, why not let everyone enjoy this on a (possibly gloomy) Monday?

See you on Friday!

Another twist of the knife, turn of the screws It’s all in your mind and it’s fighting you Arm yourself a storm is coming. Well, kid, what are you gonna do now? It’s your reflection looking back to pull you down

Phoenix - Chrissy Costanza

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

The first thing Vergil did was drag five half-dead demons to Roxy’s doorstep.

He’d waited an hour, of course. Long enough to make sure she was actually asleep and not starting to freeze again. Not that he would have known what to do in that situation, but he figured it was the thought that counted. At some point, Aki’s head had popped up, his eyes had narrowed, and he chirped rather loudly. Vergil had translated that as “what are you waiting around here for? Go do something”. In Griffon’s voice, of course. The two sounded nothing alike, but he knew he would never quite escape his old familiars.

Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately given the amount of time he had), that process had taken much longer than Vergil cared to admit. He wasn’t used to leaving enemies alive, much less in a semi-functioning state. But, after a few extra fights, he finally figured out what parts of each demon’s bodies he could cut without them evaporating. He wasn’t certain if it was quite enough. But he also wasn’t too keen on letting Diadona take more blood than she already had. At the very least, Vergil assumed this was a better option than dragging Roxy out hunting in what he assumed would still be a weakened state, no matter how long she slept.

But, for the briefest of moments, Vergil was annoyed when he found her still asleep after the hour and a half he had spent outdoors. This information of hers seemed far too important to delay any longer. But then he remembered that she had waited two weeks for him to even call her- twice- and quickly let that train of thought go.

So, after securing the demons elsewhere to avoid any prying eyes, Vergil took stock of her groceries and was rather impressed at the state of her kitchen. There was plenty of food, both fresh and frozen, with meats split into Ziploc bags and multiple containers of frozen fruits marked as ‘for smoothies’ in faded black marker. Everything else was all well organized, as it only took opening a few cupboards to find every pot, pan, cooking device, and utensil she had. At first, he wondered why a woman living on her own had so many supplies. But then he’d also have to wonder why Dante had so few things considering how many people visited, and that was not a rabbit hole worth traveling down. Instead, Vergil found what he needed for dinner (along with the very convenient recipe book on the table opened to the exact page for “hearty chicken soup”) and left the chicken to defrost. No use rushing things, as he assumed she’d be out for at least another few hours. Worst case, he’d scouted the town out while searching for the demons (it wasn’t much more impressive than Haven, if a little bit on the wealthier side) and knew where to find food if needed.

Then, he wandered around her house. She had, after all, encouraged him to do so before falling asleep. And if he couldn’t find any answers on her current predicament, at least he might be able to deduce a few things about her.

Professionally. Of course.

Why would he be searching otherwise?

Foolishness.

The generous living room led to a hallway with a modest-sized bathroom (Dante would be jealous of that Jacuzzi tub… so Vergil decided he’d never get to see it) and a small closet. At the far end were two doors, one slightly ajar, and the other shut tight. He peered cautiously into the first to find what he assumed was her bedroom. The wood floors matched the living room, but the walls were a few shades brighter with more artwork. On one side was a queen-sized bed with a blue comforter with what looked like painted flowers of all colors. The wall to the right of it had a nice sized, curved window with a comfortable place to sit and a pair of books in the middle.

The other wall, however, was what caught Vergil’s attention; multiple, beautiful shelves filled to the brim with books of all shapes and sizes. Except she had clearly taken great care when organizing them, as similar sizes and colors were all paired together in one of the most aesthetically pleasing bookcases Vergil had ever seen. The only one out of place was a single shelf filled with textbooks, but even those were organized by size, including the ones piled on their side.

“Is the Son of Sparda snooping already?”

Vergil twitched, annoyed that he’d been surprised by the dragon’s voice at all. But when he turned to question how such a large dragon fit in such a tiny hallway, his eyes fell on something much, much smaller. Kuro was a shrunken version of himself, but still three times bigger than Aki. His scales were smoother. His horns were much shorter, and his tail flicked across the floor in what Vergil assumed was amusement. An adolescent form, maybe, but Vergil could still feel centuries of demonic power radiating from the dragon. Regardless, Vergil’s eyes narrowed. “Your mistress gave me permission, in case you weren’t aware.”

Kuro cackled with laughter; a low, rumbling sound that vibrated in the floorboards. “We are companions, though I understand if that is something beyond your mortal comprehension.”

“Is that why you’re freezing her to death?”

The dragon’s tail flicked to the side, but Vergil didn’t see any shift in his expression. “I am keeping her alive,” Kuro said. “This is an unfortunate consequence.”

“She is awake, then?”

Kuro snorted. “Not for another few hours.”

“Then how are you…?”

“My full power is limited by my summoner,” Kuro said. “But I am more than capable of sustaining such an inconsequential form.” His head tilted. “I am surprised you do not know more about familiars.”

Vergil’s eyes narrowed. A part of him wondered if Kuro knew about V, but he refused to ask. “What are you getting at?”

“I had assumed someone with such demonic power would be more interested in such things.”

Vergil released a slow breath, disguising it with a small grunt of annoyance. “I know of such things,” he said as dismissively as possible. “But have never met someone with such… capabilities.” That wasn’t technically a lie, as he did not consider his own experience as “meeting” anyone. Kuro looked moderately unimpressed, but Vergil couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or didn’t actually believe him. “I intend on speaking to her as soon as she awakens.”

“Indeed,” the dragon said. A moment of awkward silence followed as the two stared at each other; Vergil with a slight scowl, and Kuro with a constant flick of his tail and snake-like tongue. Finally, the dragon huffed and said, “If you wish to know more about her, I suggest you check the room behind you.”

Then, the dragon simply walked away, head held high, not even sparing Vergil a second glance. And for the briefest of moments, Vergil simply stood there, unused to such creatures - or anyone really - acting so blatantly disinterested. Sure, the demon probably thought that Vergil should show him more respect, but he didn’t say it. Vergil didn’t know what he would do if such a thing was demanded of him. ‘Laugh and walk away’ seemed like the most likely possibility, but showing deference to anyone else wasn’t something he’d ever do.

At least… not willingly.

Vergil shifted his attention elsewhere before his thoughts drifted too far in that direction.

The second door was unassuming, but his mind raced with the possibilities. ‘Know more about her’ would imply something like scrapbooks, pictures, or maybe some kind of memorabilia. But, even from what little he knew about her, Vergil didn’t think she was that kind of person. She didn’t like talking about her family except for her father, so Vergil assumed she wasn’t too keen on reliving whatever those memories were. He could just peruse her bookshelf, as an individual's taste in literature usually told him more than enough. But he couldn’t deny his curiosity. There was something there. He just wished he knew her well enough to…

Oh.

Instead of kicking himself at the obvious oversight, Vergil opened the door. And even with his expectations - whatever those were - he stopped in the doorway, stunned. The room was a lot bigger than he expected; a repurposed master bedroom, possibly combined with another, unknown room. One wall was nothing by a set of windows with two blue curtains pulled to the side. Next to that was a large desk with an advanced computer system of some sort, two screens, a tablet, and multiple sketchbooks. Under that was a single, empty canvas, and he assumed that’s where the rest of the ones he brought would eventually go. The wall above that was filled with various sketches and reference pictures of dozens of different things. There were few finished paintings propped up beside it - intricate flowers, a painting of a cottage and garden, and a sweeping, rainforest landscape. There was the start of another painting on an easel in the center of the room; a sketch of a ladybug on a leaf-covered in rain droplets.

Then his eyes drifted to the far wall where Kuro himself had been painted in exquisite detail. His scales actually shimmered, and Vergil couldn’t figure out how she’d accomplished that. There were small bits of glimmer… but nothing crazy.

“Interesting,” he muttered despite himself. Her attention to detail was impressive, and he wondered if there was more to it than a few reference photos. But why Kuro? Surely this big of a piece would draw plenty of attention. Visitors would ask questions… wouldn’t they?

Unless she doesn’t have many.

As silence descended over the apartment - and Vergil was certain Roxy was still fast asleep - he decided to ponder his thoughts over some books.

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

It was midnight when Roxy’s eyes finally opened, and 12:30 when she could actually speak to him. It had been oddly unsettling at first, as she’d stared past him, eyes glossed over, seemingly unaware of his existence. Once he’d gotten over that, he’d gone back to his book - the same one Roxy had been reading before their meeting - and waited for her. Kuro was dozing on the couch beside her, and Aki was still on her lap, so Vergil assumed everything was fine.

It was her gasp that caught him completely off guard. Even he was confused when he found himself by her side, hand almost-not-quite resting on her shoulder. Kuro’s head lifted, and Vergil swore he heard a quiet snort before the dragon rested it back on her lap. “Breathe,” Kuro said. “You are safe here.”

Vergil pulled himself away, settling back in his chair as if he hadn’t moved at all. And, considering how her eyes were now closed as she ran her fingers along Kuro’s scales, Vergil assumed she hadn’t noticed him. When Roxy finally met his gaze, she looked oddly sheepish. “I’m good now,” She said. Then, her nose wrinkled as her eyes flickered to the doorway. “Are there… demons here?”

“Yes.”

“...Why?”

Kuro scoffed. “Your makeshift caretaker brought them for you this morning.”

“I’m not…” Vergil trailed off, huffed, and changed the subject. “The soup is done as well, just as Diadona requested.”

Roxy stared at him, lips parted just slightly before she shook her head in what he interpreted as bewilderment. “You didn’t have to do all that,” She said, her cheeks flushing a very light pink. Vergil watched her, both curious and entirely uncertain why she was reacting that way. “But… thank you.”

With a curt nod, Vergil said, “Absorb what essence you can. Then we’ll talk.”

Roxy returned his blunt demand with a nod of her own. “Can you handle that, Kuro?” She said, glancing at the dragon. “Aki can go too. Let me know if we need more.” Aki chirped in excitement and glided to the doorway. But when Vergil expected the little creature to crash straight into it, he vanished. Perplexed, Vergil glanced back at Roxy just in time to see her cheeks flush a much darker red as Kuro said something in his demon tongue. “Shut up,” Roxy muttered. The dragon’s tongue flicked in amusement before he disappeared. “Dragons these days,” She muttered, implying that she knew more than one.

Vergil didn’t let himself fall down that rabbit hole either. “What happened?” Vergil asked. “And why?”

“Dia calls it stasis,” Roxy said. “It’s a side effect of my pact with Kuro.” Her eyes fell, and Vergil didn’t like the way his heart jolted at the immense sadness in them. “It wasn’t supposed to happen that fast though.”

“What do you mean?”

She sighed. “I”m usually paralyzed for a day at least. Usually more. I called you as soon as that kicked in, thinking I had more time.” She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter now, I suppose.”

Vergil made a note to chastise her for it later. “Kuro?”

“He’s a blessing, really. But the human body can only handle so much, especially when a chunk of his energy is spent healing me.”

“Healing you?”

She nodded. “I’m technically a paraplegic” her hand drifted toward her back as she spoke, but she pulled it away with a surprising amount of force. “I was in an accident about a decade ago that severed the spinal cord in my lumbar. Dad said I was lucky, as I probably should have died. And it punctured low enough that my art career wasn’t ruined. But…” She trailed off, followed by a sigh. “I stayed with Dia for awhile, but it was hard for her to manage her other patients and me... “ She shook her head, took a deep breath, and met his eyes again. “That part isn’t important.”

Vergil had a feeling it was, but he was also painfully aware that he was the last person who should ever call out such a thing. “Then what?”

“Dia introduced me to Kuro, and he took an interest in me,” Roxy said. “I still don’t really know why. An arch-demon willing to pact with a paralyzed nobody? I really didn’t believe it until it happened. And, sometimes, I still can’t believe it. Even now.” She chuckled, but it was strained. “He tells me I’m overthinking it and he’s probably right.” She shrugged. “Long story short, he is able to use his magic to passively heal my spine, but the wound itself will never truly be fixed.”

“So if your pact was broken…”

“I would lose all control of my legs again,” She said. “And I wouldn’t freeze anymore, I suppose.” Her head tilted just slightly. “I don’t mind, though. What’s a few days of discomfort in exchange for a second chance?” She stared at her hand, fingers twitching. “It’s always a little scary though, no matter how many times it happens. Just that thought…” She trailed off.

“What thought?”

She was silent for a painfully long time. But Vergil was patient. He of all people understood how difficult it was to share such personal information. Except he, unlike Roxy, had yet to figure out just who to share that information with. A part of him felt honored, but the rest of him wondered if he deserved such trust from someone who didn’t know everything he’d done.

But…

“Sometimes,” Roxy said. “I wonder what would happen if I froze… and never woke up.”

Alarm swept through him. “You’re…” He didn’t want to say it, even though he knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Suicidal?” She said. “No.” She pulled her knees to her chest, but kept her eyes on him. “Afraid, yeah. But not that. Not anymore. Don’t worry about that.” Her small, nervous smile once again caught him off guard. The sadness had not yet left her eyes, but she still tried to encourage him. How? How much pain was she hiding behind such a brave facade?

Helping one person did not feel like much in the grand scheme of things. Really, it wasn’t. But all Vergil could think of were Dante’s words of encouragement. Words that Vergil believed wouldn’t matter with the overwhelming weight of his failures.

If you never take a step, then how do you expect to get anywhere?

“I’ll help you,” Vergil said before he had a chance to think about it. But even after he paused to let his mind catch up to his declaration, he knew it was the right thing to do. After all, how often did someone like him have a chance - and the ability - to fix something so… personal? He could never atone for all of his mistakes. His own son had made that quite clear. But he could do something… he could be there for her.

“Are you certain?” Roxy said softly. “Not that I…” She hesitated. “Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But...”

“But?”

After another long moment, she sighed. “I was hoping we would get more time as friends before… all of this.” She rubbed her arm absentmindedly. Vergil saw a flicker of pain in her expression before she buried it away; a feeling he knew all too well.

“It was bound to happen eventually,” He said as he set his book aside and made his way to the kitchen. “Rest for now. Regain your strength, and we’ll discuss it more later.”

And for the first time in months, Vergil was certain this was what he was meant to do.

#zenni-writes #cadence #update #vergil #dante #nero #vergilxoc #vergilxroxy #kuro #aki #demon #summoner lore

3 notes · View notes

2coasts1girl · 5 years

Text

But I just rented Hocus Pocus..

Monday, October 14, 11:02PM: “What are you doing? Get dressed. We are going to *disclosed rapper’s name* party.” My response “but I just rented Hocus Pocus” clearly did not work well as I writing this at 9AM running on zero sleep and my third cup of coffee.

Now let me explain. Only in New York do you get a text inviting you to one of the most famous rapper’s, if not the most, party on a casual October Monday night. As my mom says, “you need to say yes to more things” so in this case, I got ready in 0.0004 seconds and headed to meet the group downtown. I most certainly do not have the clout to be on the 50 person guest list to this party however, I have learned to keep most relationships I make in the city, strictly friendly and professional which is why I am guessing I was one of the only girls at the party without a cover over their phones’ cameras. If you only learn one thing from reading this, stay for one drink or one hour, never ask for things because most of the time they will ask for something in return, you respect celebrities’ and athletes’ space and remember it is okay to say no to situations you do not want to be in or feel uncomfortable. Trust me, this will take you far in life and relationships because you will be extremely respected.

So back to the night. I was unsure what the plan was and definitely was not prepared for how it ended up unfolding but I went in with an open mind and a few shots deep. As I got out of the suburban in front of the lounge, paparazzi swarmed the car as if someone who had a blue check next to their name was getting out. Sorry to let you down but I’m positive that when you search my name to log the photo on Getty Images, nothing is going to show up so your picture is worthless. Four staircases underground later, we walk into a very small, dim lit room where Instagram models and athletes were considered C list celebrities in. I headed straight to my comfort zone, the bar, where I ordered 4 shots of 42 for my friends and I. He will never read this but if suddenly this blog blows up, thanks for the open bar even though I am feeling very fragile as I am typing this. My friends know several guys in this specific individuals crew so our place at the party ended up being where the “crew” was posted up at, which did not suck. I have met and worked with this rapper several times for work and each time he has been extremely respectful and humble so when his surprising embrace when he saw me did not entirely shock me but I think I might have peed just a little. He smelled like Le Labo’s Noir and I did not want to let go but I did because 99.9% of the females in attendance were trying to be the subject of his next album. My parents would kill me if I was part of that percentage so I had to deal with the 0.01%, which ended up working in my favor. The rapper’s “friend” or I have now come to find out, best friend, and I had been making eye contact for a while before he approached me with a cringeworthy pickup line; so bad that the rapper overheard and had to intervene to help his boy out. By no means am I attracted to this individual so I probably came off as uninterested which is why I am now looking at my text messages with the first message being “come on ____’s plane to LA tomorrow morning, there’s no WiFi so we gonna bond.” Going back to my one life lesson about one drink or one hour, I definitely had more than one drink and stayed much longer than one hour, both of which I am paying for now. In my 4:45AM Uber home I received a text telling me to turn the car around and to meet said rapper and the best friend at a diner downtown. I don’t know what is more of a red flag, that I have no idea how this human got my phone number or that this man is inviting me to get breakfast with them at 5AM on a Tuesday morning. Normal people don’t do this, normal people are in bed at 11PM on a work night, but you are sure as hell I updated the app to that hole-in-the-wall diner. And that basically brings you up to full speed. I now have a stomach full of eggs and pancakes and got a ride to work this morning. And no that does not mean the friend came upstairs; breakfast lasted so long that the only option was to be driven home so I could grab my bag and a change of clothes in 15 minutes to make it to work on time.

As you can imagine, I am still at a loss of words at my night but at the same time, I am humbled because I am now sitting at my desk at work, writing this, significantly hungover, smiling my face off. I have to give credit to my mom because when I was growing up and on the mornings when I did not want to go to school after work trips or events that she brought me to, she would say “you got to party like a rockstar this weekend but in order to do these things we have to get up and work hard.” So thanks mom, you are saving my very limited PTO. Even though I wish that I slept, my night was just a little better than watching Hocus Pocus.

Tuesday, October 15, 4:20PM: As I am reviewing this entry to post, I get a text from the best friend inviting me out once again but this time to the Post Malone concert and another party following. And you know what the fuck I did, say thank you for the invite but no thanks and took my ass to sleep at 7PM. It is okay to say no to someone, fomo will not kill you, even if its with wheel chair Jimmy.

2 notes · View notes

notsugarandspice · 6 years

Text

Let’s Talk About Parks

*sings* I can’t write anything coherent so have this utter garbageee

Parks & Rec AU!

Read it on AO3.

CHAPTER 4: THE BASKET

“Babe, I have a double shift today so I won’t see you until tomorrow,” says Ben, feverishly stuffing things into his duffel bag, and simultaneously trying to put on a sweater.

“Alright. I have dinner, no worries!” says Richie, picking up a pack of Cheerios without looking up from the TV.

“Oh God. Rich that’s not food. And…can you please try to clean up a little?” Ben comes up to stand by his boyfriend, and he sees Richie’s face fall a little, and he pauses the game to look up, running a hand through greasy black hair.

“I-I’ll try, okay? Just don’t expect much.” Richie reaches out to take Ben’s hand and kisses his knuckles.

Ben blushes and pats his boyfriend’s head affectionately. “Alright, well, I’ll finish up whatever you’re not going to get to.”

“Okay.” Richie gives him a small smile and Ben walks out the door in haste.

As soon as his boyfriend makes an exit, Richie feels a wave of guilt wash over him. All Ben does is take care of him and he never gives back. So Richie decides to wobble towards the bedroom, take out a piece of paper and write down a list of chores for himself. Taking a double doze of the prescribed painkillers, he starts by taking care of the area where he seems to spend most of his time - the living room, removing of the dirty dishes, empty packs of chips, multiple itch sticks, vacant beer bottles. Richie pushes all of it into a garbage bag and places one filled to the brim right outside the front door to put into the large bins later.

With no proper knowledge for the use of the vacuum cleaner, Richie simply throws the couch cushions on the floor and vacuums on top of them and the emptiness on the seating area. He discovers a lot of lost items under the sofa, and plenty more candy wrappers. After he’s completely done with all the trash in the house, he takes the garbage bags out and throws them into a pit, waving to one of the cross-street neighbors doing the same. Richie then finishes a sink full of dishes and checks the fridge for expired items.

After completing the chores inside the house, Richie blows up a kid pool he found in the garage and fills it with the water from the hose, squeezing an entire bottle of Ben’s shampoo. He remembers that Went used to wash his dog Rosco in a similar fashion, and since he can’t really get into the shower, that’s the only way he can think of getting himself fully clean. He puts two garbage bags on each leg and wraps the scotch tape under and around the knee generously. Richie runs inside the house to get one last thing - the old boombox he had since he was a kid, covered in stickers and other teenage memorabilia. He inserts the latest Three Skin CD, puts on a song he wrote to Ben at the beginning of the year and strips all of his clothes before stepping into a rather chilly pool. Richie decides to throw the clothes in too for good measure, arguing that he might be just about done with the chores for today, and laundry is simply pushing it.

Just as he starts to sing along to the lyrics he hears the back door creak loudly, and he’s too comfortable to crane his neck to see, but he already knows it’s Lawrence. That complete asshole of a neighbor who never wants to leave him alone. Naturally, his neighbor places himself right in front of the pool with a solemn expression on his face, and all Richie can think of is that the guy’s entire outfit is in earth tones.

“Turn it down.”

“No, I wrote that song.”

“Do I look like I give a shit? Turn it down.”

“I’m not going to turn it down. What are you even doing- HEY!”

Lawrence grabs the boombox and makes a beeline towards the fence door that connects their backyards.

“You give me my boombox back right now!”

“IT’S MY BOOMBOX NOW, I ASKED YOU NICELY!”

Richie sits up on the pool, utterly flabbergasted. “You did not ask me nicely, you asshole! I just put twelve new batteries in that thing!” Shit.

Richie rolls backwards to get out of the pool but quickly lands on his back without crutches. When he finally manages to hold onto the side of the house to get them, he goes wobbling after Lawrence at the highest speed possible, clothes forgotten.

“Hey, Lucas! Look w-what we got,” says Bill, walking into the office with a large neatly wrapped basket. He puts it on the table in front of his coworker, admiring the massive red bow.

“Whoa, mama.” Lucas reads the label that says Neibolt Construction and rolls his eyes. Suck ups.

“I l-love Chardonnay,” says Bill sighing dreamily, and bends down to look at what else is inside.

“You can have the wine. I want to take that cheese and do terrible things to it,” says Lucas, boring a hole through the yellowish square hiding behind the bottle.

Bill starts unpacking the package and only stops when he feels Mike’s hand slap the top of his from going further. “No, no, no, no! Bill, don’t you remember? We can’t accept anything above twenty-five dollars for corruption reasons, c’mon, man.”

“W-what makes you-“

“I have to go drive all the way to Portland if I want to buy a film with nudity in it. We’re public servants.” Mike picks up the basket and has to stretch his neck back when the purple tie gets stuck under it. He stumbles towards his office, opening the door with the heel of his shoe, and places the gift under the desk, careful not to distress it.

Soon after he sits down, he sees Ben make his way into the department, and Mike instantly lights up from the brightness in his friend’s eyes amplified by a dark-turquoise sweater. “Hey, Mike.”

“Ben! Thanks for coming. We were thinking of making a social network where we could post updates about the park. Something like a page on Facebook? That seems to be the place everyone goes to these days.” Mike gestures for Ben to stand next to him as he shows him the open page on the computer. “EDDIE!”

The boy irritably makes his way into the office and rolls Lucas’ chair to sit by Mike, and when his boss refuses to move, Eddie simply pushes the chair with his, getting closer to the keyboard with a blank expression. He rolls the sleeves on his flannel and opens the Facebook dashboard.

“Can we cut this red ribbon, or do you like want me to sit here and wait for you to do it?” asks Eddie, nodding towards the little bow in the middle of the screen.

“Oh, right. Sure,” says Mike, grabbing the scissors from the cup on his desk, and cuts the strip straight in the middle. “Eddie, that’s really great. Look at all the kids!” Mike points at the folder filled with pictures of children in one of the community parks.

“Oh, look! The Pit has six friends already,” says Ben, pointing at the numbered list on the right side.

Eddie clicks on the new tab and enters the youtube.com, opening a horror claymation video. He doesn’t even look up at Mike and leans back in the chair, grabbing a Sharpie from the pen cup.

“Alright, well, we have things to do, so Eddie, you’re in charge while I’m gone,” says Mike as he grabs his briefcase from under the table. He stops in the doorway to observe Eddie draw shapes with the Sharpie on top of the white jeans. Mike shakes his head and exits the department.

“Doing a little experiment tonight to see what will get me drunker, drinking wine or-“

Mike didn’t know what to expect to see when he makes it back to the office the next day but it was definitely not that. He stands in front of the computer in pure shock, already violently sweating through the button-down. There, on the video in the middle of The Pit’s Facebook page is Eddie, smudged eyeliner, wine-stained lips, and a Sharpie-drawn Wicca symbol in his cheek. His hair is disheveled, cheeks pink and he is drinking wine straight from the bottle. Sitting behind Mike’s desk. He can tell because Obama’s portrait is in the background, just like it is in Mike’s office. It is the highest level of a nightmare.

“Right now drinking wine is winning-“

“God, Eddie, why would you do this?” Eddie is sitting on Lucas’ table, completely unaware of the damage he’s done, smiling mischievously at the image of himself chugging some Merlot.

“Um, because I was bored and my hair looked really good. That basket was right under the table,” he says without so much as looking at Mike.

“You have to take this down. I just sent a mass email linking to this page to promote our cause.”

“C’mon, play it again, Bill,” says Lucas, laughing at Mike’s horror-stricken expression.

“You g-gah-got it.”

Before Bill gets to so much as touch the mouse Jim makes his way out of the office, his lips pursed so much that they are invisible under the luscious mustache. “Michael.” He instantly turns and walks back into his office.

Mike puts his briefcase on top of his table and walks towards Hopper’s office, placing himself in front of the boss’ desk.

“Mike, he is nineteen years old. I thought I told you to contain this entire pit situation because a lot is at stake here.”

“Yes, I-“

“The Disciplinary Committee is having a hearing later today, and you’re going to have to testify.” Jim crosses his arms and leans back in the chair, brows furrowed and eyes icy cold.

“Oh, no-“ Mike is starting to feel nausea creeping up his throat, his head consistently changing its mind about being too heavy and too light. He starts stumbling towards the closest wall.

“Eddie might get dismissed. You could get fired.”

“Oh my god. Oh god. Oh no. Oh god.” The backs of Mike’s knees bump into the bench that stands by the wall of Jim’s office, and he sinks into it, falling onto the side, letting his shoulder feel the hardness of the seat. “This bench is so uncomfortable. Help, Jim. Help! Tell me it’s gonna be okay. Jim! Tell me it’s gonna be okay.” Mike feels himself madly hyperventilating now, and he doesn’t know how to calm down.

Hopper stands up and awkwardly pats Mike on the shoulder as he flails sideways on the dark wooden bench. “It’s..uh..hang in-“ As soon as Mike reaches a hand out, Jim pulls back and leans against his desk awkwardly. “-you’re uh, you’re okay.”

The next couple of hours are an epitome of a nightmare. Mike hasn’t worked at all, and he has to dry off his suit in the bathroom because of the forming sweat stains. His head is throbbing, and the coffee is producing the complete opposite of comfort. Mike rubs his face and temples in a desperate attempt to gain some composure, but it doesn’t seem to help. The distraction appears in the face of Lucas who rolls his chair to place himself in front of Mike’s desk.

“You ready for the hearing?”

“No, not at all.” Mike pushes the coffee cup away and lets his head fall into a sweaty palm.

“Do you want me to run some practice questions with you? Maybe help you prepare?”

“Sure.”

Lucas leans back in his chair and grabs one of the notebooks on Mike’s desk to take pretend-notes. “Mr. Hanlon, you are accused of leaving an intern in charge of the department and allowing a minor to consume an alcoholic substance on government premises. How many drinks do you have a week on average?”

“Zero.” Lucas raises an eyebrow judgmentally. “Well, zero to six.”

“I’m going to write down ten,” mutters Lucas, writing scribbles.

“Yeah,” whispers Mike sighing.

“Do you ever cheat on your taxes?”

“No, never!” Mike straightens up and sits more erect, suddenly intrigued by Lucas’ enthusiasm.

“Hey, you’re doing great. Alright. How many sexual partners have you had in the past year?”

“You think they’ll ask something like that?”

“You never know, nothing is off-limits to them. Now, Mr. Hanlon, how many sexual partners have you had in the past year?”

“Zero to six.”

“Zero. Have you ever thought about Jim sexually?”

“What-“

“Have you ever had a sexual dream about Jim Hopper?”

Mike looks horrified, and his voice comes out borderline hysterical. “Absolutely not, no-“

“Yes,” says Lucas, scribbling something down.

“No-“

“Now in this recurring dream you have about Jim, is he a furry, half-furry, a merman?”

“What-“

“Is he wearing a baseball uniform? Are you making love to him in the field of flowers on a couch shaped like his mustache?”

“Okay, no, time-out-“ Mike’s forehead is covered in sweat, and he aggressively throws his arms around.

“This committee doesn’t do time-outs, Mr. Hanlon! Answer the questions!”

“I need something to drink,” says Mike, unbuttoning his blazer.

“How about some wine with a minor?!” screams Lucas, leaning on the table.

“I meant water.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Hanlon. You’re fired.” Mike’s eyes nearly fall out of their sockets. Lucas stands up and pushes his chair back. “So this is your worst case scenario, you know?”

When Mike later walks towards the meeting with Jim, he is suddenly very aware of their proximity but also infinitely grateful that he’s there. Mike’s not sure he could possibly do this alone.

“Thank you so much for coming with me.” He is pacing in the waiting room, and Jim distractedly scrolls through his phone.

“I’m a department head, I have to be.”

They’re called into the room much sooner than Mike would’ve liked it, and the moment he sits in front of three stern middle-aged men, Mike instantly regrets applying for the job in the first place.

“Mr. Hanlon, you’re here because you allegedly accepted a gift of over twenty-five dollars, and contributed to the delinquency of a minor. Can you tell us what happened?”

“May I have a glass of water first?” The man nods and Mike instantly reaches for the glass standing on a black tray in the middle of the table, but his nervousness betrays him, and he knocks the whole row down. After putting it all back in place, he shakily pours some of it into the cup and gulps everything down. Mike then takes the briefcase from the chair next to him and pulls out a folder full of neatly typed notes, but the paper flutters in his hands.

“Two days ago, my department received a gift basket from a well-known local construction company. Awash in the glow of attention, I made a very unwise decision to leave it in my office in an indication that it was accepted by the department. This decision will live in infamy. The basket was already halfway open, and our intern, Edward Kaspbrak, drank some of the wine without my knowledge.”

“But you did open the basket. And the intern did drink some of the wine,” says the exceptionally unpleasant man sitting right in front of Mike, his mustard yellow blazer making Hanlon’s eyes hurt.

“Don’t blame him for my mistakes!” exclaims Mike, slamming his fist on the table. Upon seeing the other people’s rather startled faces, he clears his throat and sits back a bit. “The biggest crime we can commit here would be to destroy the teenage boy’s passion for local government.”

“Mr. Hanlon, what was the first thing you did when you arrived at work the next day? Could you give us a detailed timeline?”

“Of course. I awoke at six twenty-one in the morning after a fitful night of sleep-“

“Okay, what do you guys possibly want him to do?” suddenly asks Jim, half-groaning and rubbing his face in irritation.

“Well, we don’t know yet. We have a lot more questions ahead.”

Jim groans louder now and clenches his hands together.

“Jim, it’s okay-“ Mike reaches to place a comforting hand on his boss’ shoulder.

Hopper flinches away from the gentle touch, like he always does, and resumes to get even more riled up. “No, it’s not okay. This is not communist China. You cannot make him whip himself. You cannot make him wear a hair shirt.” Mike feels a sudden surge of raw gratitude wash over him, and he can’t help but crack a smile.

“We weren’t planning on doing either of those thin-“

“This is America! You want to live in North Korea? Go live in North Korea. I don’t want to. I want to live in America! Mike has never broken a rule in his life to the point that it’s annoying. If you want to slap him on the wrist, go ahead. You planning on doing anything more serious? You’re going to have to go through me. Let’s go.”

“We’re done?” asks Mike, his eyes jumping between the three shocked men and red-faced Jim.

Hopper promptly stands up from the chair without pushing it in. “We’re done. Let’s go.”

Mike stands up too, grabs his things struggling to mask a gleeful grin spreading across his face. They make their way back to Hopper’s office, and the boss frustratingly sits down on the letter chair. Mike stands in front of the desk again because his nervousness isn’t letting him relax enough to take a seat.

“After this, you should only expect to get a letter in your file. That’s it.”

“Jim, I just wanted to thank y-“

Jim raises a hand a closes his eyes in an unshakable demeanor. “Don’t worry about it.”

Mike smiles warmly, and he can see the corners of Hopper’s mouth jump slightly but he doesn’t comment on it, and instead sits down behind his own desk and instantly texts Ben who shows up in less thank half an hour.

“Hi, I got here as soon as my shift ended. How did it go?” asks Ben huffing and puffing, giving Mike a quick hug.

“I don’t want to be overdramatic but today felt like a hundred years in hell and the absolute worst day of my life.”

“Oh god, Mike. I’m so sorry.” He places a hand on his friend’s shoulder, and Mike’s slight smile feels like a win. “I haven’t slept in more than a day but do you want to go out tomorrow? Take your mind off things?”

Mike places a hand on top of Ben’s and smiles wide. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Ben finally makes it back home an hour later, his muscles aching from standing for so long, and head heavy from lack of sleep and abnormal amounts of caffeine. But as soon as he opens the door, he registers the impeccably clean living room area and walking further notices the pleasant smell of freshly cooked food. And there, in the middle of the kitchen stands Richie, his hair tied back in a ponytail, freshly ironed button-down rolled at the elbows but torn track pants on the bottom. And somehow, that’s still incredibly endearing, and Ben feels his heart swell with affection.

“What do you think?”

“Rich, this is so sweet.” Ben walk closer to the kitchen, dropping his duffel bag on the sofa and instantly notices a scrape on his boyfriend’s cheek. He cradles his jaw and rotates it to the light source. “What happened?”

“Eh, I was chasing this jag-weed neighbor and fell in some prickly bushes. Doesn’t matter. What do you think of the house?” Richie points one of his crutches to the rest of the clean area.

“I love it,” says Ben sweetly and leans in to give Richie a soft kiss. “Baby, sit down, I’ll look after your scratches.”

Richie carefully sits down behind the dinner table set with candles and wine and leans the crutches against the side. “Does this mean I’m getting gently laid tonight?”

“Richie!”

Perma Tag: @happytozier @studpuffin @j0ys @qwertykevin @its-stranger-than-you-think @trippy-alexissss @letmybabyystayy @tinyarmedtrex @d-nbroughs @aizeninlefox

Parks & Rec AU Tag: @gazebo-motherfucker @1-800-lonelyheartsclub @eddiecare

#reddie #stanlon #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #benchie #richie tozier #stranger things crossover #lucas sinclair #jim hopper #eddie kaspbrak #my writing #parks and rec au #bill denbrough

30 notes · View notes

homestuck-good · 8 years

Text

Coming Home - Lin X Reader

Prompt: Uh... None. I'm still new to this whole thing.

Warnings: Like, two curse words. Lin curses a lot in his interviews, so he curses here, too. Summary: You and Lin have grown distant over the years, leading to unfortunate feelings of loneliness. After returning to New York for a job interview, an unexpected encounter leads to a surprising reconciliation. Word count: 1,900 (Wow. 0.o) Notes: This is my first posted fic, so I really hope you all like it! Please give any and all feedback, I would appreciate it very much! I know @secretschuylersister said that what she got to read was good, so I hope the rest of it lives up to her expectations!

OH GOSH I AM SO NOT READY TO POST THIS

HERE WE GO

The window's view flashed by faster than your eyes could follow, mixing into a blur of pictures and scenes of local life. Huge buildings towered on the horizon, nearing closer every time you looked up. A deep breath in. A deep breath out. There were few things you had experienced more nerve-wracking than this particular train ride back to your hometown. Even with a very promising job on the line, (y/n) was reluctant to travel home. She'd eventually end up running into an old family friend or schoolmate, which wasn't all that nerve-wracking. What made this journey anxiety-inducing was the prospect of meeting him.

You hadn't seen him in over a decade, and conversation had obviously not been much of a priority to him since you left. The two of you had been best friends at one point, and you still had no idea what happened between you.

Oh yeah, fame and fortune happened.

You and Lin had grown up in the same neighborhood, and your parents were close friends. It was inevitable that the two of you would be forced to spend time with each other, no matter how much both of you resisted. After nearly a year of the two of you avoiding one another, a mutual love of theatre brought you into a careful friendship. From there, the relationship blossomed. The two of you had spent every moment possible together, reenacting scenes from Rent or singing a very out-of-tune rendition of Wicked. You would trust Lin with your life, and he would trust you with his. Of course, while Lin fell deeper into camaraderie, you had fallen deeper into love. Despite your best efforts to suppress it, a fluttering and delicate crush began to take root in your mind, until all you thought about was his goofy smile and stunningly kind words. Your years of schooling past by quickly, lost in a blur of tests and exams. The end of Senior year arrived faster than either of you could ever imagine.

Much to your dismay, Lin was going to Wesleyan, a liberal arts university in Connecticut. You, however, had been accepted to Phillip Merrill, a journalism school in Maryland. You would be far from your best friend and your hometown, leaving you feeling alone and helpless. Lin, of course, promised that he would talk with you whenever possible, updating you on the nature of his life. You pledged to do the same.

First semester went smoothly. Constant conversation, and good grades. Eventually, 'whenever possible' turned into 'whenever convenient'. You talked less and less, seeing as both of you were drowning in heaping piles of schoolwork. That never deterred your friendship. Lin's creative genius never ceased to astound you in every way. He would share ideas with you when he could, looking for your approval before he deemed the idea worth acting on.

It made you feel good, to know that you were still an important part of his life.

Slowly but surely, your small role in his world diminished until you were nothing but a fond reminder of childhood that was off in some other part of the country. Your unrequited feelings began to flicker out as well, but you still smiled every time you saw his name in the news.

He was in the news quite often, after all.

In The Heights, a work of genius, had finally made its way onto Broadway. Journalism jobs were few and far between, so when the opportunity to write an eight-page cover story on a hit Broadway musical popped up, you took it without second thought.

That second thought, however, probably would have been that you would have to interview a certain Lin-Manuel Miranda to get the story done.

Shaking yourself out of reminiscence, you looked up to find the dreary view quickly changing to the busy hubbub of a train station. Gathering the bag you had packed for your week's stay, you merged into the crowd streaming outside. A cacophony of sounds hit your ears almost immediately, but you knew from experience it was nothing compared to what awaited you in the streets of New York. You took another deep breath in. Out. Although nighttime was fast approaching and you had an early morning ahead, muscle memory guided your feet to your favorite hole-in-the-wall.

It was a little book shop that had survived on you and Lin's purchases alone for a few years, and the owner greeted you warmly when you stepped into the familiar room. You returned the welcome with a kind smile and a hug, telling him that you were back home for a week on a business endeavor.

The two of you talked for a bit, discussing books and catching up on a decade of missed conversation. He was talking animatedly about a recent encounter with a rather rude customer when the bell that signaled a new arrival chimed. You turned around, ready to greet this stranger with a smile and a firm handshake. You were instead faced with a scenario you hadn't been prepared to struggle through until tomorrow.

A disheveled and sleep-deprived Lin stood in the doorway, staring at you in shock.

The owner, who's name was Luis, called for Lin to shut the still-swinging door. He did so with robotic movements, face still frozen in a mask of surprise. Time seemed to freeze. You had trouble drawing in a breath deep enough to merit proper brain function, which wasn't very helpful in this current situation.

Scenes of your childhood began to play through your mind, memories of Lin rushing forward with a fresh wave of pain. Seeing his face reopened a wound you weren't ready to address yet. You drew in a deep, very shaky breath.

Luis, bless his soul, was able to detect the tension and scurried safely into a back room to escape the awkward conversation that would inevitably take place. You, however, did not have that luxury. Deciding to break the enveloping silence, you offered a very unsure-sounding "Hi."

Lin was still in a state of shock. "Hey." His eyes began to shift around the room, looking at everything but you.

"So," you began. "Ready for your interview tomorrow?"

He laughed and loosened up considerably. It took him only a few seconds before he stiffened up once again. "How did you know about that? It's going to be for a small magazine, and it's not anything..." He trailed off, finally understanding that you were the interviewer. You surmised he had forgotten that you had gone to get a degree in journalism. You assumed he had forgotten a lot of things since you left, actually.

The awkward atmosphere having made its return, Lin started averting his eyes again. You sighed in frustration, clearly fed up with his dancing on eggshells.

"Look. We stopped talking. I get it. You were too busy with fame and fortune to talk to an old friend. That's alright." You sounded bitter and resentful, despite the thousands of times you had imagined this exact encounter. Another breath and you had enough emotional integrity to continue without crying. "Let's just get this over with, okay? I'll pretend I'm the interviewer, you're being interviewed, and we don't know each other. It'll be fine."

You didn't know if you were assuring yourself or Lin, but it wasn't working. You muttered another "Yeah, It'll be fine..." underneath your breath, even when you were clearly not fine. When you looked back at him, he was slack-jawed and open-mouthed. You had tears in your eyes. "Look, I'm sorry. Taking this job was stupid. I'll go back and have them send someone else. Tell Luis I said bye." You nearly jogged to get past Lin and out of the store, tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks. It took less than a moment for him to spring into action, and before you knew it warm arms were holding you back from the door, clutching you close.

You cried. Hard.

He wrapped his arms around you in a tight hug, holding you despite your efforts to get away. You finally gave in, leaving tear stains on his shirt. Lin held you even closer, rubbing your upper back in a gesture of comfort. It wasn't very comforting. When you looked at his face again, he smiled. You began to profusely apologize and tried to dislodge yourself from his arms. He, thankfully, held on. Quieting your apologies, he almost giggled.

Lin. Giggled. He giggled.

You, probably more out of delirium than hilarity, began to giggle too. He erupted into a full-blown laugh, making you giggle even harder. You might have even snorted once or twice. He quieted and stared at you with adoration.

"God (y/n), you really thought that was why I stopped talking to you? Did you really think you would ever become unimportant to me?" You nodded sheepishly, temporarily assured that a lack of three years correspondence was nothing more than a mishap. He put his hand to his forehead, mumbling a string of curses under his breath. The only one you heard clearly was "I can't believe I'm actually gonna say this out loud..." Which didn't sound very reassuring at the moment. He sighed and looked at you, still smiling.

"Look, (y/n). I have fallen hopelessly in love with my best friend. She is funny, smart, kind, and beautiful in each and every way. I put off talking to her for three long years because I was so fucking afraid that she'll reject me. I'm still really fucking afraid of that." Lin shook his head, losing his smile. "Shit. Just, forget that. I'll, uh, leave now..."

You didn't think. You probably should have. The last thought running through your mind was 'Screw it.', or something along those lines. Then again, most of your decisions have ended with a defeated 'Screw it.'

Instinct caused you to tug on his arm, pulling him back around to face you. It was probably recklessness that made you grab his face and pull him in for a kiss.

He stood in shock, unable to move. You continued nonetheless, confident now that you were sure of his feelings. Lin's hands quickly found their way into your hair, pulling you closer to him.

This was nice. Unexpected, nonetheless, but nice.

After a minute of this wonderful experience, the two of you were forced to part because of humanity's unfortunate need for oxygen. Right now, you needed him. Lin was still in shock, breathless despite the kiss's chasteness. You laughed. So did he. It felt like you were teenagers again, laughing off a blunder in class with books and show tunes. It felt good. So, so good. So, so right. The two of you migrated to your favorite chairs in the corner of the store, comfortably sitting in your childhood thrones. Grinning like an idiot, you posed a very important question.

"So, ready for your interview yet?"

"Definitely. That is if you'll be there to see me?" Lin responded playfully, knowing very well that the two of you would probably arrive at the meeting place together, coffees in hand.

"Hm, that depends. I'll have to rearrange my schedule, but I'll see what I can do." Awkwardness long gone, the two of you engaged in comforting banter. Of course, you each snuck a few kisses in between sentences, but that's beside the point.

It felt good to be home.

#how do i make words word??? Guys?? Help???? Am i official hamiltrash yet or nah

72 notes · View notes

diary-to-keep-myself-literate · 4 years

Text

I had a lucid dream last night. I was falling asleep for the first time, sometime after 2am. I’d just been watching porn, finished myself, and relaxed as deeply as I could. I made a conscious attempt to think about lucid dreaming, as I have done every night for about the past week. The roaring sound came again. As always, I was a little apprehensive, but excited and relieved that I’d finally get another chance. It got so loud I could have sworn it was rattling my skull. At this point I began to wonder if I had made a mistake, but gave into it willingly, as I know that I should. It didn’t fail me.

As I sank into the sound, I realised I should try to walk and think of a location before my subconscious decided for me, and my wallpaper came to mind as I’d planned.

It wasn’t where I ended up though. Instead I found myself walking the halls of what appeared to be an old, medieval style castle. Grey stone floors, walls and stairs, brown wooden doors with dark gunmetal accents. I kept climbing higher and higher, through short passages and doors and up stairs, as though I were climbing a square tower. Maybe a corridor or two in, I noticed how detailed everything was, got a bit excited, couldn’t exactly feel my heartbeat but I knew it was getting out of control. Maybe that will be an ability of mine now, seeing as it’s something I pay attention to in real life so regularly. I told myself to calm down, and I looked at my hands, watched the details fill in, then looked back up, more calmly this time. All the while I tried to think of my boyfriend’s house so I could go there, but kept drawing blanks for some reason. I’ve been to his place a lot in a short period of time, I would have thought it would come to mind fairly easily. I tried so hard to picture his bedroom door, his bedroom ceiling with him above me, anything, but all I really achieved was losing focus on the dream that I already had. I think I remember that other voice in my head, trying to tell me it wouldn’t work. Maybe not quite a voice, I’m not sure. Instead of finding his room I just kept climbing, higher and higher, until the tower’s structure seemed to become more and more aged and unstable with each step, exposed green, rotting wood, dark crevices, holes in the floor. I felt myself losing my grip on the location, and next thing I knew I was in my honey’s house, in the hall with his bedroom door a few steps before me. I walked over and entered, but again was sent somewhere else. I don’t remember where.

I must have eventually fallen into regular sleep. Had dreams of seafaring and war and high fantasy. Might write some of it down to use. Was all very vivid, always had a sombre, bittersweet, uneasy undertone to everything that happened. There were multiple, intertwining storylines, and the dream kept switching between them. An air/amphibian craft had to follow the directions of another who knew the area beneath the island well, and head down into an underwater trapdoor to escape enemy fire from outside the cave. As part of a battle, a character had to napalm one of the island’s beaches, full pf innocents, which another main character had been to and met inhabitants of. But they were on a time limit, and it had to be done. The gunner character reluctantly pressed the button, and everyone despaired. They landed on the beach from their aircraft, to allow the gravity of their actions to sink in, but an enemy leader met them and reported that only six had died as a result. He misunderstood their intent. I don’t remember exact details. There was a lot of napalming actually. Did I see something to do with napalm yesterday? There was a kindly, hospitable old dwarf living in a beached wooden freighter ship, who was exposed by a research team as a warmonger. There was an elder god in mortal form, skin of marble cracking under the pressures of combat, three singed purple holes in the right side of her face matching those bored through a mighty head of her likeness resting half underwater behind her, out the window of the crumbling stone structure she was ascending with her fighting companion (who looked a lot like Kratos??). Was it an enormous statue? Or was it her true form?

I ate cheese before bed last night, and again tonight. Hope it works. Could be this implant messing with my hormones as well. I’ll try and draw the castle, and update this post with it tomorrow.

#lucid dreaming diary #dream diary #had some sexy talk with my honey today too #he sent me a pic #then i sent him one uwu #gonna send more tomorrowwww #apparently my friends don;t hate me too #THERE WAS A HOUSE OUTSIDE MY HOUSE JUST THEN #LIKE ON THE BACK OF A TRUCK #WOW #goodluck truck people owo

0 notes

parentingguide8-blog · 5 years

Text

50 Brilliant Child Hacks For Babysitters, Parents, Teachers, And Nurses

New Post has been published on https://parentinguideto.com/must-see/50-brilliant-child-hacks-for-babysitters-parents-teachers-and-nurses/

50 Brilliant Child Hacks For Babysitters, Parents, Teachers, And Nurses

By January Nelson Updated May 6, 2019

Dakota Corbin

Listen up, because Ask Reddit has some hacks for anyone who spends time around little kids.

By January Nelson Updated May 6, 2019

Dakota Corbin

1. If a child is having a meltdown, ask what color their shoes/shirts/pants/whatever clothing their wearing are. This distracts the child long enough to stop them in the midst of their meltdown because they haven’t thought about what they’re wearing.

2. To get a newborn to burp: Sit them on your knee, holding them under their armpits, and move their upper bodies in a circle several times. Like a reverse hula move I guess. I learned it from a neonatal nurse, and it’s almost infallible. So much faster and more reliable than regular burping.

3. If you want to enjoy some time undisturbed tell your kids that you’re taking a nap and when you wake up all of you are going to do chores together. They’ll want to let you sleep as long as possible to avoid doing housework, so they’ll leave you alone to actually nap or do other things like read.

4. Be mindful of how you phrase questions. Example: Instead of “Do you want a hotdog for supper?” ask “What do you want on your hotdog?”

If your kid’s a dick, it won’t matter. But it will help in most situations.

5. When your kid sees something they want like a toy or game and you can’t/don’t want to buy it tell them to “put it on the list.”

If they’re the type of kid that will follow through then you have a handy list for Christmas or birthdays. If not, then they’ll forget about it.

Helps avoid arguments in the store because you aren’t really saying no.

6. If you have a hard time getting them to eat their vegetables give them before the dinner because that’s when they are hungry and will eat almost anything, give them some carrots and cucumbers in a glass which is a great snack.

7. When mine were younger, say, three or four, and it was close to time to stop playing at the park or in the pool, I always gave them plenty of warning using a concrete timeline that they could understand. Instead of saying “we’re leaving soon” or “five more minutes,” I would tell them something like “ok, let me see you jump in the pool. Seven more jumps and we’re leaving.” Sometimes the number was higher, but never less than five. Less than five was always met with “come on, just one more!!” Which usually wasn’t allowed. Seven or more was always such a big number that they seemed to get their fill and were ready to go when it was time.

8. I had 3 kids very close in age. At one point I assigned them each a day of the week (they each got two and Sunday was the leftover) Whatever the question was, the answer was whose day is it. Who gets to go first? Who gets to ride in the front? Who has to take their bath first? I saved so many arguments with this.

9. Offer a choice. Do you want to put your shoes on first or brush your hair first? It short circuits their tendency to fight you and makes them feel like they’re making their own decisions, which they are. Make sure the options listed are ones you’re okay with though.

10. Always count down time to prevent surprises, no matter how much of a routine it is (“15 minutes until pajama time!” “10 minutes until brush teeth!” “5 minutes until bed time”) helps ease them into the shit they hate so they don’t get blindsided by it while they’re having fun.

11. If a certain child doesn’t want to wear their jacket while outside, we’ll usually just slip it on backwards and zip it up the back; it’s harder for them to get off, they always think it’s so silly, and they’ll use the hood as an extra pocket (usually for wood chips and dirt lol).

12. Put clear packaging tape over the speaker holes of toys that make noise/play songs – it lets the toy operate with a fraction of its actual volume.

13. Put sunscreen on at home, before you get to the beach/pool/park. They know we’re not going anywhere till it’s on. Saves me from the scramble at the destination because they’re always too excited to hold still and I’m in a rush, so it’s not a thorough job. Sunscreen takes 20 minutes to kick in anyway.

14. Have a baby who turns away as you’re about to wipe their face?

“Wipe” your own face first. The nonverbal communication allows the baby to understand what’s happening. Might not work at first, but keep at it. The child will start to let you wipe.

15. Let your baby watch you fall asleep. If it’s their bedtime, don’t play on your phone or read a book. They are following your lead. So be boring, close your eyes, and be still and quiet, and they will learn to, too.

16. If you threaten a consequence, follow through 100% of the time. Kids will test boundaries at every age, you just have to make it appropriate for their age group.

“If you throw sand again we are leaving the beach.” – you must leave the beach

“If you don’t clean your room no screen time tomorrow.” – no screen time.

The key is to make the consequences not impact you to the point that you don’t want to follow through since it will ruin your day too. A hard line to toe, but boy do boundaries and trust work.

17. Learn to say thank you and I’m sorry to them. It makes you closer and helps your relationship with them no matter what age.

18. You know the Facebook picture going around of the kid in a massive box, coloring with crayons on the walls and floor of the box?

That shit works. Keeps my two year old entertained for hours.

19. When my kids disagree or are arguing I will give them a false dilemma. For example, we are going to dinner and my daughter wants to go to restaurant A and my son wants to go to Restaurant B. We decide to go to Restaurant B but tell my daughter that she gets to pick where everyone sits.

20. Realize that while the problem your child may be having is ultimately meaningless, it could very well be the most painful thing that has ever happened to them.

Your five year old stub their toe and won’t stop crying? That might actually have been the most pain they’ve ever felt and the little throbbing after might make it seem like it’ll never end. They don’t know better, and they won’t know better till they experience it for themselves and only for themselves.

Your teenage daughter just got dumped by her boyfriend or her favorite band broke up? This emotional trauma, however ridiculous, might actually be the worst emotional pain she’s ever felt. She doesn’t know that it’ll fade soon enough and one day she’ll even laugh at how she acted, and there is nothing you can say that will teach her this.

Your children have to learn these things for themselves, simply telling them “You’ll get over it.” IS a true statement, but it will feel like you are dismissing their problems. And if the worst pain they’ve ever felt is something you as their parent will dismiss, then don’t be surprised when they don’t come to you for something serious.

21. When you want them to change bad behavior, tell them stories, sometimes I make up a story, but mostly fables with morals. Afterward a long talk about it. (“My 3 yo -right now in the phase of temper tantrums- loves it so much, sometimes he tells me out of nowhere ‘can we have a long talk?’)

22. Whenever we go to the grocery store instead of listening to my son(4 years old) cry about all of the stuff he can’t have I just tell him he can have one thing and one thing only. So he grabs cookies. Then when we get to the ice cream isle he decides he wants ice cream, then changes to Captain crunch. But every time we go back and put up the last thing he chose.

It teaches him to decide what he really wants instead of wanting everything and whining the whole time.

23. Whenever either of my toddlers was crying or whining in the car, I would point to something invisible out the window and say “hey! do you see that over there?!” By the time they realized they couldn’t figure out what I was pointing at, they’d forgotten the reason they were whining. Amazing how many times that worked.

24. Baby clothes… the little folds on the shoulders open up so you can pull the shirt over the body instead of the head. Comes in very useful when covered in shit.

25. My hack is to never let my kid see the packaging her treats come in. I take stuff out of the wrapper or packet and give it to her in a bowl or plate. That way when we are shopping she doesn’t point and nag for sweets or snack foods because she doesn’t recognize the packaging. Also means I can limit how much she gets in the bowl/plate rather than give her the whole packet.

26. Make “No helmet no wheels” the law with no exceptions from the moment they get their first tricycle. Wear your own helmet when you ride together. Let them pick out cool colors etc. Come down hard the first time you catch him or her without.

This saved my son’s life when he was hit and dragged under a van!

27. When the baby is nursing, fill a hot water bottle and put it in the crib or bassinet. Then if (when) then baby falls asleep at the breast, he or she won’t be shocked awake by being put down on cold sheets.

28. If you have treats, give them to one child to hand out to the others.

Siblings have a lot of negative interactions. There’s jealousy, competition for resources, perceived injustices. You have to create opportunities for them to have positive interactions.

The simplest way of doing this is with treats.

If you’re passing out cookies, give them both to Child 1 and say: “here, this one’s for you and take the other to your sister”. (Obviously you need to be right there to see that they do it, lol.)

There’s nothing nicer than to see a kid saying to another kid: “here, this is for you” and the other kid saying “thanks!” It warms your heart, and they actually really enjoy it, too.

Same goes with gifts, good news etc. “Hey LO, tell your little brother we’re going to the beach tomorrow”— that kind of thing.

They’ll cherish the memories, too.

29. Sleep routines are a LIFESAVER. I don’t know where I saw it, but months before I fell pregnant with my first, I watched an interview where someone talked about how a sleep routine implemented early made all the difference for them. I’d been nannying for years at that point and all my kiddos were terrible sleepers so I figured I would give it a try since I desperately need both sleep and alone time.

Right from birth I’ve done some form of sleep routine in the evening with my kids even if they weren’t going to sleep through the night (bath, lotion, bottle, then adjusted to accommodate stories and changes as they’ve grown) just to let them know it’s nighttime and quiet time, and they’re all phenomenal sleepers. It’s the one area where we’ve never had any major issues. My other parent friends have adopted their own routines after I’ve shared my success and have had great results with it too.

Kids thrive with routine (usually) and letting their little brains gear down and understand that the time for sleep is coming lets them really settle into it. It’s also handy because, if they need to go to bed early or later, they’re usually not phased because the routine means it’s bedtime whenever it happens.

30. For small tasks like getting dressed or if they’re being difficult getting buckled into their car seats I generally try to hype them up and act as excited as when I play games with them, and then clap and cheer when we’re done. It’s silly but effective, and I get a kick out of the one year old yelling “yay! Shoes!” when I get her shoes on.

31. When I was little I used to pick flowers for my mother, but the neighbors hated it because I picked the flowers from their Gardens! My late grandmother then taught me to pick dandelions for my mother, and the problem never came up again.

32. Don’t chew your kids out in front of other people. Pull them aside and talk to them in private. It helps them to trust you and it helps them to save face in front of others. It’s a win-win.

33. Basic sign language. Eat milk water. They can usually learn way early and it solves so much frustration with point and grunt/shriek or whatever.

34. When you go grocery shopping with a small child, park near the cart corral. You don’t have to play the awkward game of choosing to leave your child in the cart or the car when returning the cart.

35. When my oldest (now 5) was a toddler, we started giving him a 5 minute warning for bed because otherwise he would lose his mind. 5 minute warning can be 5 minutes or an hour, but now the kids are way more mentally prepared when we tell them it’s time for bed and it’s a breeze 99% percent of the time.

36. Teach your kids to read VERY EARLY.

Read to them as soon as you bring them home; but really focus at age 2. Start making them read back to you at 3. Make it fun.

When you give a kid the love of reading at an early age, the rest of school is usually a cake walk. They are ahead of the curve in many ways. And, if they love reading, they always have something to do, and if you buy them a book when they are good and make a reward out of it? You don’t need to wait for another Harry Potter to come out to get them to read.

My mother did it with her children, I did it with mine. It works.

37. Starting as soon as they can walk, ask for help for just about everything. And they will help and enjoy being needed. And when they do tasks and ask for help, help them. They will always help if you teach them to do it as a family instead of an individual task. Clean house…yes, please!

38. Bubbles! Seriously magical. For especially long car rides or traffic or just for fun. Keep some bubbles up front (cupholder ideally), turn on the a/c or fan, hold bubble wand up and instant stream of happiness! I’ve found myself doing this alone in cranky traffic jams & open the windows to spread the mirth and glee. Also, have tiny bubble bottles (like wedding favor sized) and easy to share with others in need out and about.

39. Let them be messy sometimes. I’m a neat freak so this was hard for me at first. Doesn’t matter what kind of home you have, just put them in the tub with those bath paints, or tape some trash bags to a kid table or the ground and let them paint. Don’t worry about the mess, they will have fun and it’s building good memories.

40. Best advice we ever got from our doctor – babies don’t have a good circadian rhythm and rely on us to set one for them. Pick a time that you’re going to go to quiet time – basically turn out lights, TV off and/or volume down, do quiet activities, sit still, etc. We did this with our first child and it became the center of our evening routine. Now my son is 3 and knows that when the clock says “7-0-0” it means “settle down time” and helps to turn the lights out. A routine is key — our kids do great transitioning from one setting to another like home and school, on vacation, etc.

I mean, they’re little a-hole toddlers a lot of the time, but that’s expected with toddlers.

41. Lasagne bedding. Waterproof sheet, sheet, waterproof sheet, sheet. No changing wet beds in the night, just pull off top layer and change child!

42. I would turn anything I could into a game if I got the sense they were wanting to be difficult. I babysat 3 kids for a few years and any time they started to get tantrumy about brushing their teeth we’d play a game; I brush the oldest kid’s teeth, the oldest one brushes the middle kids teeth, the middle kid brushes the youngest, and the youngest brushes mine (cause I can touch up the worst job later) By the end of it everyone is laughing and having a good time. Or we make teams and race, me and the youngest vs the two older kids.

43. My wife and I came up with a short unique whistle that both kids knew meant come here to us. Works in malls, water parks or just to come in and clean up for dinner. Fellow parents were amazed by this. Teach them early.

44. If you have a toddler who likes to get naked when they’re supposed to be sleeping you can cut the feet off of footie pajamas and put them on them backwards (with the zipper on their back) and then they won’t be able to get them off.

45. Mother of two teenagers. Don’t just listen but . Ask questions that can’t be answered with a yes or no. Then follow up with a few more questions about the answers given, and before you know it, they are talking to you without trying.

46. If they are cranky, put them in water. I have teenagers, this is still the method that I use. Even having them wash their hands or face does wonders.

To be fair, I do it with my husband too. So really, I guess it’s just works for humans.

47. I told my kid her ears turn red when she tells a lie, now she covers her ears when she lies. She is almost 7 and it still works.

48. The best advice I ever received as a parent… “It’s all about the long game. Work really hard now to mold them into decent and intelligent little people and you can worry less as they turn into more responsible, respectful teens/young adults.” It’s a way to ensure quieter years later.

49. When my kids were little my wife worked at a health club and I would take the kids swimming in the evening. We’d always pack their PJs for their clothes they’d change into after swimming. That way, they got out of the pool, showered, and changed in to pajamas. They didn’t always go to bed right when we got home, but they were always ready for bed when we got home.

It was my wife’s idea.

50. Dennys is where I teach them restaurant etiquette. Zero pressure and light on the wallet.

50 Brilliant ‘Child Hacks’ For Babysitters, Parents, Teachers, And Nurses

13 Moms Share The Hilarious Lies They Tell Their Kids Just To Make Life Easier Sometimes