#I was listening to the writers room videos and it seemed like whoever did sound design had a lot of fun with it too

[velvetjune]

the live action scenes in alan wake 2 are so beautifully done, from the hazy transparent echoes to the long fmv cutscenes. its great following remedy games and seeing that aspect evolve in each one

[pink-flame]

14 and 69 for Juke 😊

So I’m pretty sure I was only supposed to describe how I would write these combinations but where’s the fun in that? So I just went ahead and wrote it. Also someone else requested one that includes the bodyguard prompt so there will be a part 2 soonish. Enjoy! ����

Bodyguard AU + Flirting under fire

Julie sighed for the third time in the last two minutes.

“Can you stop that?”

The exasperated voice expressing annoyance with her impatience was her best friend/assistant Alex. They’d been best friends since middle school and when Julie’s music career started to take off everyone had tried to convince them that working together was a disaster waiting to happen. She had worked herself up over how her being his boss would ruin everything until she finally told him how worried she was.

“Won’t you feel, I don’t know demeaned, being my assistant?”

“Jules, I’ll be assisting you to survive which you’ll never do without me. Stop overthinking.”

And five years later she was a lot better at that. She was a 22 year old successful musician, her second album and first national tour right around the corner. Unlike when they were 17 she had learned her best results always came when she was able to listen to her instincts and go with the flow.

Unless she was waiting in the lobby of her label waiting for her new bodyguard to show up. A bodyguard who was officially late, a fact that she didn’t hesitate to inform Alex of.

“By like 2 minutes, chill,” He insisted, tapping away on his phone probably arranging the rest of her day as his thumbs flew over the screen.

“Alex, if my bodyguard is late I could end up dead,” She reminded him.

“Someone’s feeling dramatic today,” Alex looked up and nodded toward the other side of the lobby. “Maybe that’s him.”

Julie turned to look and instantly shook her head.

“No way. There’s no such thing as a cute bodyguard.”

Alex raised an eyebrow at her confident statement.

“I’m pretty sure that’s just a harmful bodyguard stereotype.”

Julie wasn’t so sure. In her experience bodyguards tended to be stoic, middle aged men built like linebackers. This guy on the other hand was young, probably within a year or two of her, with shaggy hair and a bouncy energy visible even from across the room. It was true that even through his vintage band tee she could see that he was kind of ridiculously muscular but so was her personal trainer and she wouldn’t want Dante standing between her and a crazed stalker.

She stood by her first assessment though. He was definitely cute.

He was also looking around the room, his eyes landing on her and a perfect smile stretching across his face.

“You’re uh, not bodyguard is heading this way,” Alex observed.

Julie could see that.

“Are you Julie Molina?” He asked as he came to a stop directly in front of her. “I’m Luke, your new bodyguard. Nice to meet you.”

“You’re my new bodyguard?” She repeated incredulously. “And you’re not sure who I am?”

Luke shrugged, his smile seemingly unaffected by her borderline rude response.

“I was pretty sure. And your label wanted to hire someone who could blend in more easily, offer you some protection without ruining your image as approachable.”

“Oh,” Julie turned to Alex who was watching the exchange with interest. “Did you know about this?”

Her best friend smirked.

“They may have mentioned something.”

Julie was starting to feel as though she had been set up. She turned back to Luke who was still rocking slightly on his heels, standing still not seeming to be his thing. He really did not seem like the type who could intimidate an attacker but he did seem like the type who would be really distracting to have standing around if he was going to keep smiling at her like that.

So she was in trouble in multiple ways.

She did her best to keep her face neutral when she spoke again.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you too, Luke. Everyone on my team is hired on a trial basis, so we’ll see how it goes ok?”

Luke reached up to salute.

“Ok, boss. Where we headed?”

Julie definitely did not find his insistence on being casual paired with that hard to place accent attractive. Definitely not.

Lucky for her, his attractiveness was soon offset by his ability to drive her absolutely crazy. Other than Alex he was by her side more than anyone over the next few months. He followed her to recording sessions, he followed her to music video shoots, and he followed her to fan meet and greets. But he was expected to follow her on personal excursions too and he seemed incapable of doing so silently. He made running commentary on the groceries she bought (always late at night to lower the chances of being recognized). He gave her unsolicited tips on what weights she should be lifting while she worked out. And worst of all was his insistence on giving her unasked for feedback on her music.

He wasn’t familiar with her work at all, or at least he never showed a hint of recognition when she brought up her previous songs or album. But he had a lot of opinions on what she was working on now.

“You know if you added some echoes in the chorus that song could be sick,” He remarked one day as he escorted her home after a long studio session.

Julie groaned and let her head flop back on the seat of the car they were currently being driven in.

“And you know your job is to keep me alive, not actually to critique my musical choices, right?”

He shrugged.

“I’m a good multitasker.”

And the most annoying part was he was always right. At least about the music. He seemed to always sense when she was stuck and somehow pipe up with the exact thing she needed to hear to get the music flowing again. Suggesting a tweak to a lyric or humming a guitar riff he thought she should try. It got to the point where she sometimes sought out his opinion before he could offer it on his own. He was clearly a musician as well as the world’s most unorthodox bodyguard.

He made her a better writer and if the way he grinned when he particularly liked one of her ideas was any indication, she thought she might make him better too.

She wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of saying that out loud though.

So they went on like that for a few more months. Julie never brought up his trial period again and he continued to both annoy and intrigue her daily. So far he hadn’t actually had to do much protecting though. He had helped her escape a few overly excited twelve year olds once but that was about it.

Until it wasn’t.

Julie had heard plenty of stories about celebrities whose over enthusiastic fans had crossed the line to full on stalking. She just never thought it would happen to her. She always felt so close to her fans, so connected by the music she made for them. But when she came home one day and found the door to her condo ajar she realized she may have been a little naive.

She knew she should wait for Luke, he had been held up in the lobby checking in with the building security but he should be right behind her. He always did a sweep before leaving her for the evening. But it wouldn’t be the first time she had neglected to lock her own door when she left. She had so much on her mind right now. Maybe...maybe she had left it open?

She had the whole top floor of the building to herself, you needed a special key to even get up here in the elevator. It was hard to believe someone else had managed that.

Julie eased through the slightly open door and hesitated a few steps inside. Everything seemed normal maybe…

Then she heard it. Someone was in her bedroom and it sounded like they were going through her drawers. Her stomach sank. Should she run for the door? Or would that alert whoever was in there and send them after her?

Suddenly there was a presence behind her and Julie was just on the brink of letting out an involuntary yell when a familiar hand came down to grip her shoulder.

“Shhh,” Luke whispered directly into her ear. “Come on.”

He guided her backwards to one of her closets and pulled them inside quickly, somehow managing to pull the door closed behind them soundlessly. Julie’s heart thumped wildly in her chest as she tried to keep her breathing silent. Luke positioned himself between her and the closet door, keeping one hand on her shoulder and the other resting over his belt.

Did he have a knife hidden under that band tee? A gun? Why had she never asked any questions about how exactly he was prepared to protect her before?

Still. She had to admit she felt as safe with him as she would with anyone. All of the characteristic movement she associated with Luke had drained out of him, leaving him incredibly still but still thrumming with focused energy. He was listening at the door and she could see his brain cycling through calculations of what he would do next. She had a sudden fear of him leaving her, even if it was in an attempt to defend her.

She reached out without thinking and grabbed for his hand that had been resting on her shoulder and wrapped it in hers, holding on for dear life.

He glanced back at their linked hands and then up to her face offering her a soft smile that felt more like the Luke she knew. Somehow just that was enough to let her breaths come a little easier.

“You’re ok,” He whispered.

She nodded but didn’t drop his hand.

“Did you see them? Are they armed?”

He nodded once and Julie swallowed hard.

“Just stay put for a second,” Luke whispered again. “Backup is on the way and I’ve got you.”

Julie nodded. She believed him.

She focused on keeping her breathing steady and quiet. Soon she had calmed down enough to realize just how close they were to each other. It was a small closet just meant to toss a coat or two into when you walked in the door. Julie considered herself lucky that she hadn’t gotten around to putting anything in this particular closet or she would have been smothered by fabric right now. As it stood she was seated on the ground pressed directly up against Luke where he crouched against the door, their bodies touching in just about every way they could be.

This was not the time to be thinking about how big his eyes looked from this close or how those little bits of his hair that flipped up were tickling her cheek or how he smelled really, really good.

It wasn’t the time but that didn’t stop her from thinking about all of it.

Fear did strange things to people, ok?

Only it wasn’t just the fear because she had definitely noticed all of those things before. They just hadn’t been quite so in her face. Literally.

“Thanks,” He whispered, amusement clear in his hushed tone.

Julie snapped back to reality.

“For what?” She whispered back.

“You said I smell good. Really, really good,” He replied leaning in even closer so he could say it directly into her ear.

Julie froze in mortification.

“I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“No, that didn’t happen.”

He leaned back as far as he could go which wasn’t far and smiled before reaching up with his free hand to push a curl away from her face.

“Whatever you say, boss,” He said with his most annoying smirk.

Only she wasn’t annoyed. At all.

Trouble.

She had known he would be trouble.

Suddenly a floorboard creaked directly in front of the closet and Julie dropped his hand so she could slap her own over her mouth and muffle the whimper that tried to escape.

Luke was suddenly all business again, raising his finger to shush her before reaching for the door handle. Before she could react he had yanked the door open and was leaping out.

Julie thought she might have screamed but she wasn’t sure. She heard a scuffle but kept her eyes squeezed tightly shut, afraid to open them and see Luke hurt and her stalker coming straight for her.

A few long seconds later she heard the sound of the police arriving at the same time that a hand landed softly on her arm. She flinched slightly and opened her eyes to see Luke staring down at her, thoroughly out of breath but seemingly unscathed.

“You ok?” He asked.

She nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet and lead her out of the closet. Thankfully the police had already hauled away whoever had been in her apartment but there were a couple of officers taking notes and speaking into their radios.

One approached them where Luke was keeping her upright with an arm around her shoulder.

“You’re a very lucky lady, Miss Molina. He was unarmed and your boyfriend had him in a heck of a headlock when we got here.”

Julie blushed.

“He’s not my...wait. The guy was unarmed?”

She looked up at Luke with a look that clearly demanded answers.

“He had a pen,” He shrugged as though the significance should have been obvious.

It was not.

“A pen?” She repeated. “You made me think he had a gun!”

“Hey, do you know how many ways someone can kill you with a pen?” Luke insisted. “Spoiler alert, it’s a lot.”

The cop looked back and forth between them with confused amusement.

“Well, we’ll leave you to it. We’ll check in with your building security and try to figure out how he got in. In the meantime you might want to look into hiring some protection.”

Julie felt Luke bristle next to her and couldn’t help but smile smugly.

“You’re right, I might.”

Then they were alone and Luke was moving through each room, checking for himself to see that everything was as it should be.

Eventually on his third check, Julie grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop.

“Thank you, Luke. For everything. As much as it pains me to say it...you were amazing today.”

He grinned, and suddenly he was the Luke who followed her around and annoyed her with how right he was about everything again.

“Yeah, well, you’re amazing everyday, Boss. So I guess we’re even.”

Julie could feel herself blushing again.

Trouble.

She was in so much trouble.

[teddy06writes]

The Phantom Of The Opera AU

requested by this anon: “Okay so I know you’re a musical kid so you have probably listened to/heard of Phantom of the Opera. Picture this: Dream as the Phamtom x Fem!reader as Christine x Sapnap as Raul”

Dream x Fem!reader and Sapnap x fem!reader (with dream as the phantom and sapnap as Raul)

trigger warnings: death, dream being a low key creeper, maybe some swears, my general lack of knowledge of this musical

premise: Phantom AU, not neccicarily the full story, its mainly what I’ve seen/read/listened to that I think is important, and like eight of the songs. Ummm, I feel like the summary above is enough for you to get the general idea.

(y/l/n)- your last name

“blep” regular talking

“Belp” singing

When things are in counterpoint, regular text will be (y/n), (text in parenthesis is sapnap), and {bracketed text is Dream}

if you, like me are unfamilliar with the story, this is the summary that arrived in my inbox last night (thank you so much to the person who sent that by the way, it really helped)  

“So basically phantom of the opera is a love triangle between 3 people, the Phantom (P) x Christine (C) x Raul (R). C and R were childhood friends until R had to move away. C grew up in the Opera house with her dad (deceased) as a music writer. C grows up getting “private” singing lessons from P ( he is literally talking to her through a vent ((Among Us omg)) or something idk). Fast forward into the future to present day. C is a ballerina at the opera and one day, the phantom makes the set malfunction so that the lead female opera singer (she’s a jerk. Forgot her name) can’t preform and C has to preform as the lead instead. Coincidentally, the night Christine sings as the lead is the day R comes to see her show and R is like “ooWooga she be fine now ig”. R and C catch up after the show and R goes away for a minute and then P is like “aight C imma kidnap you for a sec with no purpose whatsoever to the plot except for a cool song” and then C returns to her normal life ig. P them sends stuff to the people in charge of the Opera saying “ayo C be pretty fine, let her be the lead again” the people in charge of the opera were like “nah fam, let’s have the person who was supposed to be the lead be the lead”. Upset by this, during the show, P broke the chandelier and it fell into the audience. C is like “I love you uwu” R is like”let’s get engaged” C is like “let’s keep it a secret so the crazy P guy doesn’t find out” and little did they know during that conversation P was hiding and overheard everything and is now sad boi hours. A masquerade happens and P shows up like “ayo I heard you trynna steal my boo” and R is like “nah she my boo” and they duel or whatever. Idk how it transitions to this but the Opera runs another show and they make C the lead to not upset P. However, during a love song (Past the point of no return, it literally slaps), C realizes that the person singing isn’t the original actor, it is P! And then P straight up kidnaps C after the song, takes her to his lair and is like “boo you gotta marry me or I destroy the opera house with everyone inside it” C is like “fine ig” P takes off his mask and reveals he is hiding burn marks and he kisses C and C kisses back. P is like” my mom never even kissed me” and P let’s C go, telling her to go marry R... or you can just watch this video lmao https://youtu.be/4a5nahw3zi8″

On that note, here we go:

{that only goes for the final scene where its all three, it varies otherwise}

{Things I have learned while preparing this story, 1. the actual phantoms name is Erik, like what a nerd, 2. he’s also not actually a ghost??? He’s literally just some creeper who lives in an opera house screwing with people; also yes Eret is the strict lady who yells at everyone and talks to the phantom, deal with it}

{pls send me more musical au asks I really liked doing this, even if it took me a while}

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The ravenous applause of the audience seemed to echo in your ears, even after you had left the stage. 

You’re debut as the female lead in Hannibal had been a smashing success, and as the rest of the chorus girls backstage were saying, it was all thanks to the Phantom scaring Hannah off.  

Niki practically ran up to you from the rehearsal room, “(y/n) that was incredible!” 

You grinned, “Oh I feel like I’m floating Niki! Thank you for volunteering me for the role.” 

“Don’t thank me, Thank whoever's giving you those lessons,” She bumped her hip against yours, grinning cheekily, “And if what the girls are saying is true you’ll have to thank him for getting Hannah out of here.” 

You chuckled, but before you could say anything else Madame Eret was approaching, knocking the end of their cane of the ground, “Miss Nihachu, you are a dancer are you not?” 

Niki nodded. 

“Then get back to rehearsal,” he waited until Niki hurried off to turn to you, “He is most pleased with your performance, here.”

You took the note from him, reading over it quietly, “Red scarf..... the attic.... little lotte?” 

She simply shrugged, leaving you to turn and head up your dressing room. 

As you changed out of your costume from the show you couldn’t help but hum the song that had earned the most applause, “Think of me, think of me of me fondly, when we’ve said goodbye.” 

Reaching around you found your dressing gown, pulling it on and tying up the front, “Remember me, once and a while. Please, promise you’ll try...” 

Your words faded off as your sat down at your vanity, beginning to brush out your hair. 

“Where is your red scarf Miss (y/l/n)? I hope you haven’t lost it. Not after all the trouble I went through to retrieve it for you.” 

You turned to see a tall dark hair man standing in the doorway, a grin spreading across your face as he continued, “I was only 14 and soaked to the bone...” 

“Because you ran into the sea to fetch my red scarf!” You exclaimed, jumping up and flinging your arms around him excietedly, “Sapnap! How I’ve missed you!” 

He chuckled, pulling away, and offering you a single red rose, “(y/n)... Little Lotte let her mind wander...” 

“You remember that too?” You asked with a giggle. 

Sapnap smiled and kept singing, “Little Lotte thought: am I fonder of dolls,” 

“Or of goblins or shoes?” You joined in, “Or of riddles of frocks, or chocolates.” 

“Those picnics n the attic...” He reminisced. 

You closed your eyes, remembering those long ago days, “Father playing the violin.” 

“As we read each other those dark stories of the north.” 

“No what I like best, little Lotte said, is when I’m asleep in my bed,” You sang, “And the angel of music sings songs in my head!” 

“The angel of music sings songs in my head.” He repeated softly. 

You smiled at him, an excited fond feeling forming in your stomach as you sank back into your chair,  “Father said, when I am in heaven child I will send the angel of music to you. Well now father is dead, Sapnap. And I have been visited by the angel of music.” 

“Well that is very evident,” He chuckled, taking your hands, “Your performance was wonderful. And now, we shall go to supper.” 

“Oh- sapnap I can’t, the angle of music is very strict.” 

He didn’t seem to understand the urgency in your voice as he laughed again, “Well I shant keep you up late.”

“No- Sapnap, things have changed-”

“You have to change,” He interrupted, “And I have to grab my hat. Two minutes little lotte.” 

As he went out the door you cried after him, “Sapnap! Thing have changed Sapnap!”

But he was out of earshot, and the voice that had become so familiar to you was booming, “Insolate boy! This Slave of fashion basking in your glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing my triumph!”

“Angel I hear you! Speak, I listen! Stay by my side and gude me!” You begged up to the ceiling, “Angel my soul was weak! Forgive me! Enter at last master!”

“Flattering child, you shall know me, see why in the shadow I hide, look at your face in the mirror, I am their inside!” 

The voice sounded closer now, and you couldn’t help but look around, “Angel of music! Hide no longer!” 

You turned again, finding yourself face to face with what seemed like a mask, floating in your mirror, “Come to me, strange angel!”

“I am your angel! Come to me angel of music!” 

A shadowy figure seemed to appear behind the smiling mask, a hand outstretched to you. In a daze you stood, grabbing his hand and allowing him to lead you away down a dark pathway.

“Who’s voice is that?” Sapnap asked, knocking on the now closed door, “(y/n) who’s in there?” 

“Come with me angel of music!” Dream, the Phantoms voice echoed again. 

“(y/n)!” 

~~

“In sleep he came to me, the voice which calls to me and speaks my name!” You moved quietly through the passages, following Dream, “And Do I dream again? for now I find, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my mind!” 

“Sing once again with me our strange duet! My power over you grows stronger yet! And though you turn from me to look behind, the phantom of the opera is there! Inside your mind!” He sang, turning back to make sure you were following once more.

The walls of the tunnel seemed to widen, and you could almost make out an empty candle lit space. 

You reached out, fingers almost brushing the edge of his cloak, “Those who have seen your face draw back in fear! I am the mask you wear..”

“It’s me they hear...” 

As you emerged into a cross roads of the tunnels, you sang in tandem, “Your (my) spirit and your (my) voice in one combined, the phantom of the opera is there, inside your (my) mind!” 

He helped you into the boat that waited in one tunnel, before casting off, propelling the boat down the slow moving current, “In all your fantasies, you always knew the man and mystery...” 

“Were both in you....” You sang softly as the boat came to dock in a wide chamber.

Slowly you climbed out of the boat after him, looking around the dank space, and at the organ in the corner. 

Dream pulled off his cloak, “And in this labyrinth where the night is blind..”

“The Phantom of the opera is there! Inside my mind......” 

~~

As the people downstairs argued, you tried to think over what had happened. Was it a dream? It didn’t seem like it, but still, a man appearing in her looking glass? Taking her away and singing words of praise, words of love, words that made nearly no sense now that it was day, and a haze covered your memory. 

The one thing that remained clear was the monster she had found beyond the mask.

All too soon it seemed you were being rushed into rehearsals, being told you no longer had a speaking role, as Hannah had returned, and was back to her diva ways. 

Rehearsals that would normally drag on seemed to go quicker now, and soon you and the rest of the girls were getting ready for the performance. 

“This is ridiculous,” Niki muttered as she adjusted her costume, “You should be playing the duchess, not Hannab.” 

“Hannah is the featured soprano. She’s always the lead.” You retorted. 

“But how will Sapnap know to look for you in the chorus?” Niki teased.

You elbowed her, laughing lightly, “Shut up. Besides I doubt the phantom would let him see me again.”

The show had gone well, at least until the fifth scene. 

All the music stopped abruptly as a voice boomed, “Did I not instruct that box five was to be left empty?”

“He’s here: The Phantom Of The Opera!” Niki cried from offstage. 

Your head jerked up to turn and look at the audience, “It’s Dream!” 

“Your part is silent, you toad!” Hannah snapped. 

From somewhere up in the audience Dream frowned, “A toad Madame? Perhaps it is you who is the toad...” 

Hanna opened her mouth to continue on her script, but no sound seemed to come out, save for what was close the a croak. 

The men who had bought the opera house, Wilbur and Tommy were coming rushing down from their box, “Ladies and gentlemen we apologize! The performance will continue in ten minutes time, with Miss (y/l/n) as the duchess!”

Tommy nodded as Wilbur finished, “And for now, we will give you the ballet, from act three of tonight's show!” 

The ballet didn’t last long, as when you returned to the wings dressed for the new role you had been given, someone let out a horrified scream.

“What the-” 

You were cut off as you looked up to see Shlatt, the stagehand in charged of the curtains, hanging from the rigging, a noose fully tightened around his neck. 

“Ladies and gentlemen remain calm! It was just an accident- remain calm!” Someone shouted. 

Through the darkness you could make out Dream’s menacing figure, the smiling mask watching you threateningly as you clamped your hand over your mouth to stop the scream that had ripped at your throat. 

“(y/n)? (y/n) are you alright?” Sapnap had run down onto the stage in all the chaos. 

“We- we have to get out of here,” You choked, grabbing his hand, “We aren’t safe here.” 

He didn’t seem to understand the reason behind your panic, but even so he offer you his arm, “Lets leave then.” 

~~

Twenty minutes later you ended up in an empty park, the panic that filled your chest not yet fading as Sapnap asked, “Why have you brought me here?”

“We can’t go back there!” You exclaimed. 

“But we must return.” He gripped your hands, “Darling their bound to be missing you.” 

You shook your head, “Sapnap- He’ll kill you! His eyes will find us there!” 

“(y/n), don’t say that! It’s okay (y/n), it’s okay!” 

You looked up into the darkened sky, “No it’s not- no it’s not- Those eyes that burn!” 

“Don’t even think it!” He cried desperately. 

You couldn’t tell whether you were trembling from fear, or from the cold, as you sang, “And if he has to kill a thousand men....” 

“Forget this waking nightmare!” Sapnap insisted. 

“....The phantom of the opera will kill.” You sang distractedly. 

He gripped your shoulders, “This phantom is a fable, (y/n), believe me!” 

“And kill again....” You shuddered at the idea of Dream doing anything to Sapnap. 

Both of you sang, “God who is this man, who hunts to kill? (this mask of death?)

“I can’t escape him!” You cried. 

He shook his head, “Whose voice is it you hear...”

“...I never will!” 

“With every breath?” 

His grip on your shoulders tightened, pulling you closer to him as you both sang, “And in this labyrinth where light is blind, the phantom of the opera is there, inside my (your) mind!”

“There is no Phantom of the Opera!” 

“Sapnap- I’ve been there, inside his world of never ending light! To a world where daylight dissolves into darkness, darkness! Sapnap I’ve seen him!” You cried. “Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape that face? So distorted, disformed it was hardly a face!  in the darkness, darkness. But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound in that night there was music in my mind And through music my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before!” 

“What you had was a dream and nothing more!” 

You could hardly look up at him, “yet in his eyes was all the sadness in the world! Those pleading eyes that both threaten and adore!” 

“(y/n), (y/n)!”  Sapnap exclaimed. 

“.....(y/n)......” A different voice seemed to cry into the night. 

You gasped, pressing yourself against Sapnap, “What was that?” 

He hugged you tightly, before pulling back and singing gently, “No more talk of darkness, forget these wide eyed fears. I’m here, and nothing can harm you, my words will warm and calm you.” 

You relaxed into his grip, listening to his quiet voice, “Let me be your freedom, let daylight dry your tears, I’m here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you.” 

“Say you love me, every waking moment. Turn my head and talk of summer time,” You looked up at him, biting your lip, “Say you need me now and always, promise me that all you say is true, that's all I ask of you.” 

“Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you are safe, no one will find you. Your fears are far behind you.” He assured you, smiling softly. 

 “All I want is freedom, a world with no more night. And you to always be beside me, to hold me and to hide me.” You admitted. 

Sapnap’s smile grew wider, “Then say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me here, beside you. Anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n), that's all I ask of you.” 

“Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time,” You repeated, “Say the word, and I’ll follow you.” 

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning.” You sang together as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“Say you love me?” 

He smiled, whispering, “You know I do.” 

“Love me- that's all I ask of you.” You both sang, before he leaned in to gently press a kiss to your lips, “Any where you go, let me go too. Love me- thats all I ask of you.” 

Sapnap kissed you again, before pulling away, “We could go anywhere- we could be married! You would marry me, yes?” 

“Oh, yes, Sapnap, yes I would. If you’d have me.” You nodded, eagerly. 

He grinned, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You couldn’t help but giggle, before turning back toward the direction of the opera house, “I must go back, they’ll wonder where I am. Wait for me Sapnap!” 

“(y/n), I love you!” He exclaimed. 

“Wait for me, Sapnap. Order your finest horses and being waiting by the door.” You could go back, and continue working at the opera house, there was nothing left for you to fear while Sapnap was there.

“And soon you’ll be beside me!” He chuckled.

You grinned, “To guard me and too guide me!” 

Sapnap offered you his arm again, and you headed off out of the park, toward the opera house. 

Slowly, Dream slinked from the shadows where he had watched the proposal, “I gave you my music, made your song take wing. And now your repaid me, denied and betrayed me.” 

He groaned running a hand through his hair, “He was bound to love you, when he heard you sing. (y/n)- oh (y/n)-”

He was cut off by the sounds of your voices drifting down the street, Say you’ll share with me, one love, one life time, Say the word, and I’ll follow you. Share each day with me, each night, each morning.”

Dream’s hands flew to his ears, desperate to block out the sounds- he had been so sure that you could’ve loved him, but now Sapnap was stealing you away. 

“You will curse the day you did not do, all that the phantom asked of you!” He bellowed. 

~~

The following weeks at the opera house were a blur of panic masked by busyness, Wilbur and Tommy refusing to let the disaster of the chandelier falling from keeping the company from working on their next performance. 

You kept on working, the ring on the chain Sapnap had given you around your neck helping you to feel safe, even as the chorus girls cited the Phantom for the cause of all the distress. 

Now you were back in your dressing room, getting ready for dinner with Sapnap.

“Wander child, so lost, so helpless,” A soft voice seemed to drift down from no where, “Yearning for my guidance.” 

You looked up at the ceiling, “angel or father? Friend or phantom? Who is it their staring?” 

“Have you forgotten your angel?” The voice murmured, Dream appearing once again in your mirror. 

You turned to him, almost in a trance, “angel, oh, speak, what endless longings, echo in this whisper.” 

Sapnap, having arrived to the opera house appeared in the door, watched as you moved toward the phantom. 

“Too long you’ve wandered the winter...” Dream continued to sing, hand outstretched to you. 

“Once again she is his.” Sapnap sang, as you started to cross the room toward the mirror where the phantom stood. 

“...far from my far reaching eyes.” 

“Wildly my mind beats against you....” You sang, transfixed. 

Behind the mask Dream grinned, “You resist. Yet your soul obeys.” 

“Once again she returns, to the arms of her angel. Angel or demon? Still he calls her, luring her back from the grave. Angel or dark seducer? Who are you strange angel?” Sapnap sang, again, more to himself than you or Dream. 

Dream beckoned you forward again,  “I am your angel of music, come to me angel of music!”

“Angel of darkness, cease this torment!” Sapnap exclaimed, moving into the room properly and drawing attention to himself. 

Dream unbothered, continued to sing, “I am your angle of music! Come to me angel of music!” 

“(y/n), (y/n) listen to me! Whatever you may believe- this thing, this man is not your father!”  Sapnap yelled, “(y/n)! Let her go! For gods sake let her go!” 

Jarred by his sudden yell, you turned, the trance broken, “Sapnap...” 

Dream, unimpressed, began to clap, deadpanning, “Bravo monsieur. Such spirited words.” 

“No more tricks monsieur!” Sapnap yelled, stepping forward to put himself between you and Dream. 

“Oh, but that's not any fun. Why don’t you come closer, sir? Keep coming this way.” 

Sapnap, not liking to be challenged, stepped forward, “You cannot win her love by holding her prisoner!” 

“No- Sapnap don’t!” You grabbed his hand, pulling him back. 

He nodded resolutely, gripping your hand as you both moved toward the door, “Lets go then, no more time will be spent with this monster.” 

“Don’t go!” Dream wailed as you hurried away down the hall, “Now let it be war upon you both!” 

~~

Something was going wrong, of course it was, because when was it not?

Your entrance in Don Juan Triumphant had gone according to plan, but the man who had stepped out as Don Juan was not George, as it should have been.

You steeled yourself, trying to come up with a logical reason.

George must have gotten sick, and a stand in had taken his place, yes that must be it.

“Past the point of no return, no backward glances, the games we played till now, are at an end.” The man sang, “Past all thought of ‘if’ or ‘when’, no use resisting, abandon that thought and let the dream descend.”

Your panic seemed to rise, the double meaning in his words filling you with dread.

“What raging fire shall flood the soul? What rich desire locks the door? What sweet seduction lies before is? Past the point of no return, the final thread hold. What unspoken secrets will we learn? Beyond the point of no return.”

You moved carefully to your next mark, trying to work out who it was in George’s place, “You have brought me, to the moment when words run dry, to the moment when speech disappears into silence, silence.

I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, in my mind I already imagined, our bodies entwined. Defenseless and silent, now I am here with you, no second thoughts, I’ve decided, decided.”

You just barley stopped from trembling as you realized, it was Dream, “Past the point of no return, no going back now. Our passion play has now, at last, begun. Past all thought of right and wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait, before we’re one?”

“When will the blood being to race? When will the sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last consume us?” You finished, taking an only slightly shaky breath.

The phantom grabbed your hand as you both sang, “Past the point of no return, the final threshold. The bridge is crossed so stand and watch it burn, we’ve past the point of no return!”

Everyone in the audience seemed to hold their breath, they too knew that this was not George. The cloak that had hidden Dreams mask fell, and they gasped upon seeing the plaster smiling face.

He grinned behind the mask, and punctuated, “Say you’ll share with me, one love, one lifetimes lead me, save me from my solitude.”

The words stung even before he pulled out a ring, holding it out to you, “come with me, or this whole place will come down upon us.”

Slowly you looked to the audience, Sapnap was standing in the isle, looking worried.

You couldn’t let him get hurt.

You nodded reluctantly, as he continued, “say you want me by your side anywhere you go let me go too, (y/n) that’s all I ask of-“

Slowly, you reached up, pulling the mask off his face, revealing the terribly scared face to the world.

The gasps turned into horrible screams as a curtain was raised, and Georges body tumbled onto the stage.

Almost immediately Dream flung his cloak around you, disappearing.

Sapnap ran up onto the stage, along with the crew, police officers and other patrons.

“Sapnap! Sapnap you’ve got to come with me!” Eret cried, rushing out onto the stage.

“What the hell is going on?”

“Sapnap!” They yelled again, “I know where they are!”

“But can I trust you?” He demanded.

She nodded, “yes, and remember, keep your hand up at eye level.”

“Why?”

“Punjab lasso.” Was all he offered in explication as he led Sapnap away.

~~

Soon enough Sapnap was creeping through the shadows of the phantoms layer, watching as he tried to place a wedding veil on your head, “Too bad pity comes to late, turn around and face your fate, an entirety of this before your eyes!”

You turn to face him, looking up at the mess of scares that cover his face, “this haunted face holds no horror for me now, it is in your soul that the true distortion lies.”

The phantom turned suddenly, to Sapnaps hiding place, “Wait! I think, my dear, we have a guest! Sir, this is indeed an unparalleled delight! I had rather hoped that you would come And now my wish comes true— you have truly made my night!”

“Free her!” Sapnap yelled, stepping into the light, “do what you want to me but let her go!”

“Your lover makes a passionate plea.” Dream laughed at you.

“Sapnap it’s useless!” You cried.

Sapnap shook his head, “I love her! Does that mean anything To you? I love her! Show some compassion!”

“The world showed no compassion to me!” Dream retorted.

He reached out toward you, “(y/n), (y/n), please let me see her!”

Dream grinned maliciously, “be my guest.”

Sapnap rushed forwards, as Dream contiued to taunt, “Monsuier, i bid you welcome, did you think that I would hurt her? Why should I make her pay, for the sins which are yours?” 

As he finished the last words the Punjab lasso came sailing out, and Sapnap barley had time to fling his arm back up as he was dragged back, the only thing keeping him from hanging being the fingers he’d wrangled between the rope and his neck. 

“No!” You cried, struggling to your feet. 

“Order your fine horses now!” Dream yelled, “Nothing now can save you, except maybe... (y/n).” 

You stood, shaking as he turned to you, “Start a new life with me- buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me now and send your lover to his death! This is the choice, this is the point of no return!” 

“(y/n), forgive me, please forgive me, I did it all for you, and all for nothing.” Sapnap sang, looking at you desperately.  

At the same time you turned toward Dream, “Farewell my fallen idol, and my false friend, one by one my delusions shattered.” 

“Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity!” Dream sang.

“{all hope of cries for help, no point in fighting!} (say you love and my life is over, either way you choose, he has to win!) {for ether way you choose, you cannot win! So do you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?}”

“Why make her lie to you, to save me?” Sapnap yelled. 

You looked between them desperately, “Angel of music..... {past the point of no return!} (For pity’s sake (y/n) say no! Don’t throw your life away for my sake!) Who deserves this? When will you see reason? {The Final threshold! His life is now the prize you must earn! You’ve passed the point of no return....}”

You looked at Dream, no longer trying to hide the fear that coursed through your veins, “Angel of music, you have deceived me, I gave myself blindly to you.” 

“You try my patience! Make your choice!” Dream yelled. 

Looking back at sapnap for a moment you stepped forward, whatever it would take, you would keep him safe, “Pitiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone.” 

Reaching out, you took the mask from his hand, tossing it to the side as he moved closer to you as well. 

Before you could hardly blink he was kissing you, and with little more than a second thought you kissed back. 

Sapnap watched, in partials horror, until the phantom drew back, shaking as he whispered, “No one has ever kissed me- not even my own mother.” 

You nodded, and then suddenly Dream began to move across the room, grabbing a knife from somewhere as he stalked up to Sapnap.

He paused for a beat, and you could feel the terror in the room- until he slashed at the rope, and Sapnap fell the ground. 

You rushed over to him, kneeling beside him, “Sapnap! oh Sapnap!” 

“Take her,” dream wailed, “Take her and forget me, forget all of this! Leave me alone- forget all you’ve seen....”

Sapnap struggled to his feet, holding you close to him as he backed towards the channel. 

“Take the boat, leave me here, go now, please!” 

The sounds of the mob looking for Georges murderer seemed to grow louder as they grew closer.

“Hurry! Now before its too late!” Dream yelled. 

Sapnap hurriedly started to help you into the boat, but you pulled away, moving back to the Phantom, long enough to hand him the ring. 

Then you were off, turning to Sapnap as the current carried the boat away, “I’m sorry Sapnap- I couldn’t let him hurt you- I couldn’t!” 

“Shhh. It’s alright (y/n), it’s alright. He can’t hurt you anymore.” He murmured, pulling you into his arms.

“Say you’ll share with me, one love one lifetime.” You sang shakily.

Sapnap nodded, “Say the word and I’ll follow you.”

“Share each day with me, each night, each morning...” The sounds of your voices traveled back up the tunnel for Dream to hear. 

He sighed, looking resolutly into the distance, “You alone can make my song take flight- It’s over now, the music of the night!”

[ashintheairlikesnow]

Akio

CW: References to the death of a friend, grief, suicide, murder 

Sequel to Found Out and this past flashback to Oliver Branch

The sound of thin, breaded pork cutlets frying in the big pan on the stove fills the air, and Akio breathes in the familiar smell where he lays on his back on his parents’ gigantic cream-colored sectional couch, stretched out across the whole length of it on one side. Not that he’s all that tall to take up all that much space, really, but what matters is that he would definitely have fallen asleep by now if it weren’t for holding his phone up over his face.

It fell on him, once, and he’s pretty sure no one noticed. Emi, his younger sister, hasn’t even looked up once from her own phone, except once to triumphantly announce that no one caught her and they all voted someone else off the ship. Then she looked back down and never looked back up.

Akio frowns, looking at his own screen, tapping his thumbs as he writes out an answer to the person messaging him. “Hey, Mom?”

“Yes?” His mother looks up from cooking, her eyes moving through the big open space right to him. They’d knocked down all the walls when they bought the house, open-concept-something-something. Akio didn’t care, but it was apparently deeply important to his parents. Something about family togetherness.

“You remember Tristan Higgs, right?”

Aimi pauses, tucks a bit of her short black hair behind one ear to get it out of her eyes as she flips the pork cutlets on by one, to get the other side nicely browned, too. The sizzling ratchets up in volume and then back down again. Next to her sits four bowls already filled with rice, and the table already has the vegetables ready to go. “Of course, honey. Oh, the anniversary’s coming up, isn’t it? I have an alarm set on my phone… did you want to go to the cemetery next week to see Ronnie and Paul?”

“Ew, no creepy graveyards for me, thanks,” Emi says, eyes still glued to her phone.

“We wouldn’t take you anyway,” Akio says, rolling his eyes. “You don’t even remember Tris or his parents.”

“I do, too. I was like seven. He was really nice. Mrs. Higgs was really nice, too. Mr. Higgs was weird.” 

“Wow, what a stellar eulogy that was, Emi. I can see why you want to be a writer when you grow up. The description there was just incredible.”

“Oh, go drive into a lake,” Emi says, without any particular rancor in her voice. 

“If you’re going to fight, I’m going to send you two upstairs so I at least don’t have to listen to it,” Aimi says, moving the cutlets to rest on a paper plate with paper towels lining it while she heats mirin, soy sauce, and… some other stuff in a different pan. Honestly, Akio has no idea exactly how katsudon happens, all he cares about is that it’s the perfect after-practice food and he is starving.

Except he keeps getting distracted by this guy on Insta. “Anyway, Mom, um, about Tris. So… yeah, I do want to go out and see his parents next week, yeah, but-... there’s this guy on Instagram who keeps asking about him. That’s… that’s weird, right?”

Aimi looks up, blinking. “Asking about Tristan? What is he asking?”

“Just like… he says he saw the video I put up on youtube, and he’s asking, like… what was his birthday, and did he like fried chicken, was he autistic, and… did he like musical soundtracks. This is weird stuff to ask a total stranger, right?”

“A little.” Aimi pauses while she watches the pan, and then pours a small bowl with beaten eggs into it, watching them spread and start to lighten to a puffy yellow as it cooked in the already-boiling liquid mixture. “Did you ask why he wants to know?”

“I did, but he just said he’s doing some research or something. But, like… research on what?” Akio taps on the guy’s little profile photo, bringing the profile itself up. “His username is benthebadmagician. Okay that’s-... that’s kind of cute.” 

Aimi’s voice turns sly. “Is this Ben cute?” 

“Ugh, gross, Mom. That’s not-... I mean he’s kind of-... that’s not important.”

“Ooooh, eyeballin’ the insta-hotties,” Emi singsongs. “Aki’s gettin’ desperate. Just get a freaking dating app like everyone else.”

“Already on it, Emi.”

“Then why exactly don’t you get any dates? Oh, right.” Emi sits forward and grins. “I forgot about your personality.”

Akio throws a throw pillow at her and the big orange poof misses by a mile. Emi laughs, getting to her feet and wandering over to the fridge, pulling a can of soda out and popping the top. “Aren’t you an athlete, how the hell did you miss that?”

“Language,” Aimi warns, waving a spoon at her daughter. She gently places the cutlets into the cooking eggs to finish up. “No swearing under my roof, young lady.”

“Aki swears all the time!”

“Aki is twenty-four years old,” Aimi says, almost primly. “And he doesn’t swear where I can hear him.”

“What, so it doesn’t count if you don’t hear him?”

“Of course it doesn’t, how do I know if I don’t hear him?”

Akio smiles, faintly, but he’s scrolling through the Ben guy’s instagram feed now. Just looking at the grid of squares, photos and videos. Lots of coffees and food, people laughing, photos of a girl with really pretty hair. Photos of Ben the Bad Magician himself. Nerd, Akio thinks, but cute nerd - definitely nose-in-a-book type. Nice brown hair, nice smile. 

“Oh look at that face,” Emi says, eyebrows raised. “Ben the Insta-Weirdo actually is cute huh?”

“Go eat slugs.” Akio keeps scrolling down and down, not sure what he’s looking for. Autism awareness banners - he checks those to learn the Ben guy’s got an autistic little brother, and his friend Christopher is autistic. There’s a couple slides, and he swipes his finger to what he assumes is a photo of the Ben guy with the little brother, who looks almost exactly like him, just a whole bunch younger and looking, unsmiling, off to one side while Ben grins at the camera.

Akio doesn’t bother checking the last slide - it’s probably just whoever the Chris guy is. He backs back out to the grid of thumbnails. Maybe he just picked up on the stuff Tris always did when he was excited, and got curious? Maybe his little brother liked the video? Akio’s gotten a couple comments from people saying they liked seeing an autistic kid just be fucking happy in public without getting shit on for it, and that used to be a big deal for Mrs. Higgs, too...

The question about musicals keeps snagging at him. Tris loved musicals, went through cycles with them. He and Akio had a whole routine done to a song in Hairspray, just for fun, when Tris was obsessed with that for a while. And then they were going to do the Time Warp as a routine once...

Akio keeps scrolling, only vaguely aware of his sister and mother talking, and Emi leaving the room to go call their dad in for dinner. 

Emi stops in the doorway and turns back. “Don’t forget to get his phone number, Aki. You can definitely trust strangers on the internet creepily interested in your dead best friend, right?”

Akio looks up, then, blinking at her. “Emi, that’s-...”

She seems to catch herself, and gives him a sheepish smile. “Sorry, Aki. That got bitchy.”

“Language,” Aimi reminds her. “But I appreciate you apologizing. Does anyone even hear me say to use nice language any longer?”

“No,” Akio and Emi say in unison, and then Emi disappears down the hallway, bellowing for their father in her loudest voice even though she could easily walk up the stairs and not have to yell at all. 

Akio looks at his mother and deadpans, “Your daughter is really weird.”

Aimi matches him tone for tone. “Your sister is weirder.” 

She places the cutlets on top of the rice bowls with the egg just underneath the meat, carrying them one by one to the table, setting them each down in their place, and then grabs her glass of wine, patiently waiting for her while she cooked. She pads on bare feet across the hardwood floor over to the pale white rug, soft as down underfoot, and stands next to where Akio is laying down. “Are you looking at the profile?”

“I am, yeah. I don’t know what I’m looking for, really, just… hey, wait.” Akio stops at the thumbnail preview for a video, tapping to open it up. It starts with a blue-haired boy smiling, and his smile hits Akio all odd, makes his throat tighten and his heart start to race. The boy in the video puts up a finger and backs up, glances over his shoulder at a TV screen behind him playing the tango scene from Rent. 

Akio blinks as the boy holds out a hand and a girl with really gorgeous long wavy hair takes it, the two of them moving effortlessly into a perfect mimicry of the dance on screen. The room they’re in is mostly empty, furniture shoved to the walls to turn what looks like some kind of lobby into a dancing space.

“Wow, that kid can really dance,” Akio murmurs, but the smile catches him, tugs at the back of his mind. The blue-haired boy can’t keep the grin off his face, it has to hurt to smile so big for so long, and the last person Akio thought that about was…

“You got this, Chris!” Someone calls from offscreen, and for a second Akio hears Tris and catches his breath, but no, no, they said Chris. Someone else claps for Mari - that must be the girl, maybe. 

They continue to dance, and Akio can’t tear his eyes away. “Mom? Do you see this?”

Aimi looks up from straightening some magazines on the coffee table and leans over, sipping her wine absently. “See what, honey?”

“Look,” Akio whispers. His throat is closing up, he can’t manage anything more than that. 

The two do a spin, and then burst out laughing, and the Chris boy stands back up straight, throwing his arms up like he’s just hit a perfect landing-

“Oh my god,” Aimi says next to him, her own voice strangled and choked, and Akio feels his mother’s hand suddenly clutch onto his shoulder. “Aki, is-”

“He’s dead,” Akio whispers. “He killed himself after his parents-... he’s dead, Mom.”

The Chris boy looks right at whoever was filming the video, shoots them a brilliant, shining smile, and then starts rocking, his hands moving through the air and twisting at the wrists, bouncing up and down on his toes.

Akio’s breath is shuddering in and out, and his heart pounds, trying to break out of his chest. “He’s-... Mom, he’s dead.”

“His aunt had him cremated,” Aimi says, but her lips are barely moving and the wineglass is loos in her fingers. “After they found him. She didn’t want a funeral.”

“He’s dead,” Akio repeats, thinking of the smile, the movements, the shy way he ducks his head at the end when people clap him on the back. He backs up to the wall again, keeps scrolling, looks for more pictures of the blue hair. He opens every single one he can find, searching for something, some sign that will tell him he’s not seeing what he knows he’s seeing. “His aunt took his phone away after like three months and then he was dead a month later, wasn’t he?”

There’s a pause.

“Mom? Mom, didn’t he kill himself like four months after they died? Didn’t he?” Akio’s voice sounds weak and is getting weaker. “Mom, please-... please answer me, didn’t he-”

“He left a note,” Aimi whispers. “His aunt-... she said he left a note, that he couldn’t live without them. It’s-... I never thought-... I never thought to question her, Aki, I never-... she was Ronnie’s family...”

He clicks another video.

“You’re a fucking mess, Christopher,” The girl from the dance video says, sitting in a tank tops and shorts on the edge of a bathtub. “Letting your roots grow out like that. But don’t you worry, Madam Mari is here to help!”

“Please don’t, don’t don’t-don’t call yourself Madam. Please?” A voice says, uneasily, and the blue-haired boy moves into the screen. “For, for, for me?”

“Yeah, no problem, Chris. Why’d you let it grow out so bad, anyway?”

His hair’s not blue in this one - or it is, but only about half of it. Pale and faded, but the top of his hair has grown back in for about three inches, and it’s coppery strawberry blond. He turns to the camera and gives a sheepish smile. “I, I got distracted and for, um, forgot.”

Aimi’s wineglass slips from her fingers, hits the floor, sprays wine like blood across the pristine white rug. 

Neither of them notices.

“I… I cried for him for like a year straight,” Akio chokes out, and he finds more pictures, more videos, more more more. He opens them up and then backs out of them again, unable to stop himself. Every photo shows him some shard of the mirror reflection of a dead boy all grown up - a sparkle of green eyes, happy motions in the background of a video, more of that familiar sunny smile. “I kept-... I kept all the stuff he left in my room, I saved all h-his text messages from before he d, disappeared, I-”

“This can’t be him,” Aimi says in a fierce whisper. “It can’t be, Aki, it can’t.”

Akio taps on another video.

The boy ties his long blue hair back in it, glancing sidelong at the camera, a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “And, and, and you’ll, um, you’ll buy the, the, the-the-the nachos?”

“If you can still do it? Yeah, absolutely. Seeing that’s worth a plate of nachos to me. I’ll even buy you those fucking margaritas you like.”

“Chris just likes the sugar,” Someone else says, and Chris sticks his tongue out at them.

He takes a few steps back, rolling his shoulders, shaking out his arms. 

Akio tells himself that if the Chris on the screen doesn’t nail this, it can’t be him, it can’t be him at all. 

The boy puts his hands up, then down at his sides, back bowed briefly in a motion Akio knows too, too well, knows better than he knows breathing. The boy takes off across the grass without hesitation and-

Akio and Aimi both exhale.

-he jumps forward, dips at the waist, catches himself on his hands and does a perfect set of three backflips across a big grassy lawn, stumbling the landing but his feet pop right back into final position, and he throws his arms up with his chin lifted, and someone offscreen shouts, “Perfect Ten, Stanton!”

The boy laughs, shakes his head, says, “I’d be, be, be dinged for the, um, the landing, but-... but, but good, right? I did good? Laken?”

Someone with the coolest hair Akio has seen steps into the screen and they hug, kiss briefly, and then Chris apparently can’t handle the happy emotions because he backs away to start bouncing up and down, grinning.

He looks back at the camera. “Want to see me, me, me... me do it again?”

“He’s not dead,” Aimi says, and her voice sounds like someone closed their hands around her throat. “Oh, Ronnie-”

“What the fuck happened to Tristan fucking Higgs?” Akio’s voice is barely audible over the sound of the video starting over. “He’s… he’s not dead. He’s not dead, Mom, he’s not-... he’s not dead, Mom, he’s not dead and he’s right-... that the university, right? He’s not dead, and he’s, has he-... has he been here the whole fucking time?”

His mother doesn’t chide him for language this time. Her hand tightens on Akio’s shoulder as red wine soaks the rug beneath her feet and she whispers, “Give that Ben boy your number. Tell him to call you.”

Her fingernails ache where they dig into his skin through his shirt.

“Now.”

---

Tagging: @burtlederp , @finder-of-rings , @endless-whump , @whumpfigure , @slaintetowhump , @astrobly @newandfiguringitout , @doveotions , @pretty-face-breaker , @boxboysandotherwhump , @oops-its-whump @moose-teeth , @cubeswhump , @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-tr0pes @whumpiary @orchidscript

[just-a-fangirl13]

MacGyver fanfic

So this is my attempt at a MacGyver fanfic based on the spoiler we got from the MacGyver writers about Mac and Riley getting unexpectedly linked in season 5. (No this does not have anything to do with handcuffs this is just something I would like to see play out.😂)

I know it's kinda long but I hope you like it anyways.

I WOULD RECOMMEND LISTENING TO ARMOUR BY LANDON AUSTIN in the background for added effect...(I am weird I know😂)

(P.S. please ignore any typos...)

spoilers for. season 1-4.

*this takes place a six months after Mac and Desi have broken up. Bozer and Mac are spending time with each other playing video games at Mac’s flat after a long mission. They hadnt got a call from Matty about a new one just yet. So they were making the most of it after ages.*

“So Mac when are you getting back to dating?” Bozer asked. He was happy that Mac was finally doing better emotionally but he was worried Mac was going to spend the rest of his life building carbon scrubbers and car engines out of blenders, alone. He knew Riley and Mac would be perfect together but saying anything upfront would just end with Mac closing up like a clam shell and not dealing with his feelings. He knew better than to try and get involved.

He did have a plan though. He was going to convince Mac to try out this new dating app called Link’d. It was basically like every other dating app only difference..? It narrowed matches down by people you might have crossed paths with and you also have no idea who your date is until you get to a restaurant the app picked for you. The app reduced any possibility of being stood up or judged because you had no idea what the other person looked like and so no one ever lied. Bozer had already told Riley to try it out but he wasn’t sure if she would.

Bozer had hoped that maybe Mac and Riley would see each other going on dates and the fear of losing the other might kick in and maybe, just maybe they would deal with their feelings.

“Bozer come on, I am not ready yet besides I thought we talked about this. It’s only been a few months since Desi and I broke up.” said Mac. 

“A few? Mac, its been six months and even Desi has moved on. All I’m saying is go on a date or two. You deserve to be happy too you know. Its time to get all that weight off your shoulders and live a little man.”

“Yeah I know.” Mac seemed to be considering the idea. A date sounded like fun and he could use a distraction from everything going on at Phoenix. 

“Fine, then show me your phone.” said Bozer putting his hand out. Mac raised his eyebrow. “Why do you need it? I know I’ve broken a lot of your phones, is this your version of payback?", said Mac laughing nervously, "You'll won't hold my phone hostage until I agree will you?"

Bozer laughed, Mac was really never going to change. He cautiously handed over the phone and Bozer got to setting up Mac���s profile while Mac tried to get a look at what Bozer was doing secretly worried he was going to put him in some ridiculous situation.

When Bozer was done he handed the phone back to Mac.

“There you go. I installed a dating app called Link’d that will set you up on a blind date. Just hit that button and the algorithm will find you your perfect match.” Bozer left out the part where Riley might also use the app. But then again the possibility of them getting Link’d was slim since LA itself had about a few hundred thousand other users.

“A blind date?” Mac was confused. “Boze I dont know if this is such a good idea.” Bozer could tell every worst case scenario was going through Mac’s head right now.

“I haven't hit the button yet. Think about it and press it whenever you want. No pressure Mac. Whoever you end up with will be lucky to know you.”

“Thanks Boze. Ill think about it. Now can we get back to the game so I can kick your ass again?” said Mac with a smile on his face. He really would think about it. After all a blind date meant no pressure right?

*A few days later*

Riley had decided to use the app after all. It was just a date right? It didn't have to mean anything. She wouldn't even have to call the person back if it was a disaster.

Riley’s phone had pinged with an alert last night. She had got a match and had it yes without thinking twice. She was a bit nervous about going on a date with some random guy but Bozer had a lot of faith in the app. She only knew the guy would have a white rose with him so she could identify him. nothing else

She was very tempted to hack into the apps mainframe and find out who the guy was but she remembered her promise to Bozer. No hacking. 

She had looked up the restaurant however. It was a nice romantic place in the heart of the city. Yes she could enjoy herself. No worrying about Mac or Phoenix or Codex or anything else.

She could do this. She could go on this one date, no strings attached and maybe just maybe she would be able to forget about her feelings for Mac for a night.

She decided to wear the new black knee-length dress she had bought a few weeks ago, but hadn't had the chance to wear yet. It felt good to dress up for a change. She could totally do this. After all what could even go wrong. No one at Phoenix knew about this date and she would fill Bozer and Desi in later if it went well.

********

Meanwhile, Mac was at the restaurant at a corner table. It was a nice cozy booth that meant they were away from the hustle and bustle of the 3 star restaurant. He had to admit the app was pretty cool. Not only did it pick a restaurant but it had pre booked a table too. It did help alleviate the stress of picking a place. 

Mac still fidgeted though:- with the candle in the center of the table, the tablecloth, his suit jacket and even the white rose he had to carry so his date would recognise him. He checked the time for the 10th time in the last five minutes. He was always a little late so he didn't want to take any chances and had ended up 10 minutes early instead.

********

Riley’s cab pulled up at the restaurant. She was walking past the huge front window in a hurry. She was just on time.

She walked into the restaurant and gave her name to the host. As she was being led to her table and praying she wasn’t late, her phone started ringing. It was Bozer. Filled with guilt she put her phone on silent. Stupid button wouldn't work and she fidgeted with it while walking. She promised herself she would fill Bozer in once the date was over.

“Riles?” 

Riley looked up from her phone at the sound of Mac’s voice. Was she hearing things now? But nope there he was, with a white rose, sitting at the table where the host had pulled up a chair intended for her.

“Mac? What are you doing here?”

Mac looked handsome as always. He had on a dark blue jacket, with his hair in his usual short and mess style. He had a look that bordered on confusion and amusement.

Surely there was some mistake. Maybe it was a joke. Or maybe there was an emergency mission and Mac was here to pick her up for the mission. That had to be it. Right?

“I was supposed to be here on a date with a girl I have never met before. You?” Mac smiled. Riley’s stomach flipped. Things had just got so much more complicated.

*****

Riley looked stunning. Mac knew that of course but she managed to catch him by surprise all the same.

She was just as surprised as him but now the doubt was creeping in. What if Riley was disappointed that it was him? What if she was really excited to meet someone new and him being here would ruin her night?

Riley had seemed a bit distant lately maybe this was the universes way of giving them a chance to figure things out after all.

“Well I came here thinking i was on blind date too. The Universe has a weird sense of humour." Riley broke into a smile and sat down. Mac was relieved and even more nervous at the same time. 

What was wrong with him? It was just Riles. They would have a nice meal, figure things out and then laugh about this story later right?

Riley picked up the menu and a few seconds of complete silence ticked by. Mac couldn’t handle it and broke the silence.

“So” he said. “We should probably talk right?”

*****

“Something on your mind?” asked Riley. A million thoughts ran through her head as she put down the menu. This was the part she wasn't looking forward to. She had hoped he wouldnt bring it up until later in the night but it was the elephant in the room. What was she thinking sitting down, pretending everything was fine?

“I was going to ask you the same thing.” said Mac. “You know about how you’ve been avoiding me ever since we almost died in that Codex compound from the missile. Then you moved out suddenly without much of a reason. If it was the drilling sounds I would have stopped you know.”

“It wasn't the drilling sounds or anything you did Mac. I just moved out to give you and Desi the space you deserved.” said Riley.

Her thoughts ran back to the moment he held her hand. Why did he have to do that? Why did he have to bring that up right now. The truth was Riley had been distancing herself from Mac. 

Desi was her friend and she was never going to tell Mac about her feelings. It would ruin everything. Even after he and Desi broke up, Riley knew that she and Mac would never happen. She wouldn't be selfish and risk their friendship.

“Come on Riles. You’re my best friend. Whatever is going on then, you can tell me. I know its probably my fault but I need you to talk to me so I can fix it.” 

How could she tell him? There would just be a cloak of awkwardness between them that would never go away and it wouldnt be something he could fix. She had to end this. Now.

“I have to go. I'm not feeling too great. I'm sorry Mac.”, said Riley getting up from her chair. Saying those words broke her heart but she had to put space between her and Mac, otherwise he would know. He would see right through the lies.

“Riles wait!”

Stupid heels she thought and walked out the door of the restaurant as fast as she could only to find it had begun raining. Oh great. This night could not be a bigger train wreck.

She turned around to find Mac right behind her at the door. A sad expression on his face. She prayed he would forgive her for this eventually.

“At least let me give you a ride home. You dont have to say anything if you dont want to.”

Riley considered her options. She really didnt want to. But she was not going to get a cab on a Friday night in this rain. She silently nodded and followed Mac to his truck.

******

Mac was wracking his brains to figure what he could have possibly done to upset Riley this much. They had almost been hit by the Reaper drone and then almost burnt alive in that warehouse, the guilt for putting Riley through that had been eating at him ever since.

He was thinking of all the things he had done in the past month, while Riley sat silently peering out the window not even looking at him. 

He could always fix things right? That was what he did best. What was the use of all his skills if he couldn’t even fix things with Riles.

The woman who knew him better then he knew himself. She had trusted him even when everyone thought he was an enemy of the state. Even when he thought he had lost himself. She was always there. He told her things he had never told anyone before. 

Suddenly his mind went back to the moment he held her hand in that Codex compound. He had thought about that many times. Why had he done it? He was sure he was going to die and he had just put Riley at risk too. He wanted her to know he was sorry right? What other reason could there have been?

Before he knew it he had pulled up at Riley's apartment entrance. 

Riley mumbled, “Thanks for the ride Mac. I'm sorry I ruined your night”, she barely met his eye as she open the door and stepped out. 

Suddenly it struck him.

He didn't want to lose Riley. The thought hit him so suddenly it almost sucked the air right out of him. How had he not realised sooner?

It was Riles. It had always been her.

He got out the car in the pouring rain,“Riles wait.” he pleaded, “I'm so sorry.”

Riley turned around to face him.

“You dont have anything to be sorry about Mac. This isn't your fault. I just have a lot on my mind right now.” she said. 

“I do Riles. I have so much to be sorry for.” said Mac walking around the car and towards her. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to see what was right in front of me. I’m sorry i didnt realise sooner. I thought back to that day on the truck. The moment I held your hand, I realise it now, it was the first time I wasn't afraid of dying alone. I never let myself think about it. But the truth is Riles, I dont want to lose you.”

Riley had tears streaming down her face. 

Oh no. He had made a mistake hadn't he. He had completely misread the situation. Riley had never felt that way at all. He had just made things worse and now they would never be able to go back to the way things were. 

But deep down he didn't regret telling her. He had these feelings for so long. The idea of losing her had brought everything back to the surface.

“Riles, please say something.”

All these thoughts were running through his head when suddenly, Riley kissed him. He was taken aback for a second but he kissed her back. He could have stayed there in the rain forever. Just him and Riley. She wrapped her arms around him.

“I am so sorry Mac. You were right.. The truth is I was avoiding you. I thought if I distanced myself I would be able to move on and I would never have to risk our friendship. You’re my best friend too Mac and I just...” she was crying again.

Mac took her face in his hands tenderly and wiped the tears away. “Hey, hey its okay. I think we can both agree for two very smart people we can be pretty dumb”

Riley smiled. It made Mac’s heart do sommersalts.

They just stood there in the rain holding each other.

“So are we doing this then?” asked Riley breaking their embrace.

"I mean I guess your bed is big enough" said Mac with a mischievous grin. Riley smacked him, laughing and rolling her eyes.

"Not that. I meant us, dating and all that." She was blushing now.

“if you want to give this a shot? 100% Should we tell everyone though?” asked Mac. He wasn’t sure how everyone would react. A part of him wanted to just keep this between him and Riley.

“I do want to give us a shot. Maybe we should keep this to ourselves for a bit? Phoenix and relationships never seem to mix too well.” said Riley.

Mac nodded and smiled,”Yeah I like the sound of that. And if they get suspicious I guess we’ll just..”

“Improvise.” said Riley, completing Mac’s sentence. They laughed and kissed, standing there in the rain for what felt like forever.

[girls-scenarios]

According To Plan

Idol: Hyewon (IZ*ONE)

Prompt: can i request hyewon (iz*one) and the reader both having a crush on each other but they are both very awkward and shy so the other members try to help them get together 🥺 thanks! ~

Writer: Admin Kiwi

A/N: I haven’t been able to sleep recently because of my allergies, so this probably isn’t my best work. But I hope you guys enjoy this little scenario!

You weren’t proud of how shy you were when it came to Hyewon, but really, how could you not be shy? Hyewon was gorgeous, with piercing eyes and a haughty look but with a fun and awkward personality underneath. Most people had their breath taken away when they saw her, so you weren’t the only one. Plus, you were already awkward enough to begin with. Being in the presence of a beautiful woman who also happened to be funny and smart only made it worse. That was why you still hadn’t made a move, even after months of pining.

“It’s obvious that you guys like each other,” Chaeyeon said, sounding exasperated as she placed a plate of cut fruit down on the table and sat down across from you. As your best friend, she’d heard about your crush on Hyewon so many times she could almost predict what you were going to say. “We’ve been over this! I know she won’t turn you down.”

Picking up a strawberry, you laughed sheepishly. “I know, but I just can’t bring myself to ask her out. Every time I think about it I get all awkward and lightheaded and my heart starts pounding. I just know if I tried I’d end up accidentally offending her or I wouldn’t be able to get the right words out.”

“You just keep thinking about the worst outcomes. If you’re so nervous about doing it in person then just text her.”

“That seems kind of lame though.”

“What are we talking about?” Sakura walked into the room, her glasses sliding down her nose slightly as she yawned and settled into the seat beside Chaeyeon.

“(Y/N)’s crush on Hyewon, what else?” Chaeyeon responded, handing her girlfriend a strawberry. As she accepted the fruit, Sakura nodded.

 “I figured.”

You flushed, slumping back into your seat. “Am I that predictable?”

“Kind of. You talk about Hyewon all the time.” Sakura smiled as she ate. “It’s cute though.”

“It’s not cute, it’s driving me crazy,” you mumbled, staring down at the table. “I really like her but I’m too awkward to ask her out and I don’t know if she actually likes me back because she hasn’t said anything either.”

“Listen to me, (Y/N). Hyewon is just as awkward as you are, if not more so,” Sakura said, leaning her head on Chaeyeon’s shoulder. You tried not to be jealous of their relationship as you were stuck pining. “I know her really well, we do a lot of tournaments together remember? And she’s super awkward at those. She’s not good at expressing herself so she gets flustered. But I know she likes being around you because she smiles a lot, and she usually only smiles like that around food and video games.”

“Really?” Your heart jumped in your chest for a moment before you quickly swallowed down your hope, not wanting to get your heart crushed. “I mean, I’ve seen her smile around you guys. Isn’t it the same?”

“It’s not.” Chaeyeon’s voice was matter-of-fact as she crossed her arms. “I wasn’t going to tell you this because I wanted the two of you to work it out yourselves, but Hyewon’s been talking about you nonstop to Eunbi and Yena. They said she won’t shut up about you, but when they tell her to make a move, she says she can’t because she’s too nervous. Basically, the only reason the two of you aren’t happily dating right now is because both of you are too awkward to ask each other out.”

Your heart raced as you sat still, processing this information. As much as Chaeyeon liked to play jokes, she would never lie to you about something as serious as this. So Hyewon liked you back. The realization made you a bit lightheaded and giddy, and you laughed as you pressed your hand to your chest. “Wow. I don’t know how to process that. Hyewon likes me too?”

“They’re really just noticing that?” Sakura asked, making you flush from embarrassment again.

“Hey, she’s gorgeous, of course I didn’t want to get my hopes up just to get crushed! Weren’t you guys nervous to ask each other out?”

“Not really. I just asked her out when it felt right,” Chaeyeon said, turning to glance at her girlfriend with a smile, and you sighed.

“Well, I can’t do that.”

“But you have to do something. You want to date her, right?”

“I do,” you said truthfully, feeling butterflies just from admitting your feelings again. “I really like her and I want to date her.”

“Then let us help you ask her out.” Sakura’s eyes gleamed and she grinned as she sat up to lean forward against the table, looking all too excited. “Yena is throwing a party on Friday, and obviously you’re invited. We’ll help you come up with a plan to confess then!”

Your palms felt sweaty just thinking about confessing at a party in front of all your friends, but you couldn’t keep putting this off forever. Plus, the two women in front of you didn’t look like they were going to take no for an answer. So you gave in.

“Okay. But nothing too big, okay?”

-

When Friday rolled around, you were so nervous you wanted to give up on the whole thing, but you knew you’d come too far to back out now. As you approached Yena’s apartment, you went over the plan in your head. Sakura had come up with the idea to send the two of you out for drinks, giving you time alone to ask her out. That way, it wouldn’t be in front of everyone and there wouldn’t be any pressure. Chaeyeon had advised you to just ask her out quick and to the point so that you wouldn’t get too nervous, and had told you to do it on the way back.

“Buying her something might be a plus,” she’d said, but for the life of you, you couldn’t think of a good thing to buy Hyewon from a convenience store. Food? She would like it, but that was hardly romantic.

Your worrying was cut short when Yena threw open the door and announced your arrival in a shout, throwing her arms around you for a quick hug before ushering you inside.

“(Y/N)’s here everybody! That’s the last person!”

“Why were you late? We were waiting! Hyewon wouldn’t let us start eating until you got here!” Yujin complained from near Yena’s table and you stole a glance at Hyewon, who was standing nearby. Her eyes met yours before she quickly looked away, letting her hair fall over her face to conceal a blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to make you wait” you said, the butterflies in your stomach getting worse. “You guys can go ahead and eat! But thank you for waiting for me.” This time, you smiled at Hyewon and she gave you a small smile in return, looking a bit sheepish before looking away again a moment later. As much as you wanted to talk to her, you allowed Yujin to drag you away to show you the food. You had to let your heart rest for a minute.

-

The party had been going for a little over an hour and you had ended up on the couch with Hyewon when Sakura approached you, looking as innocent as she could as she mentioned the drinks being low.

“It looks like whoever was in charge of the drinks didn’t bring enough,” she said with a pout, as if she wasn’t the one who brought less than she was told. “We’re going to run out soon.”

That was your cue. You swallowed, looking away from Hyewon so that she wouldn’t notice anything weird. “I can go get some more if you want.”

“Really? That would be great! I can spot you.”

“You’re going all by yourself?” Hyewon asked from beside you and you did your best to smooth out your expression as you turned back to her.

“Do you want to come? It would be easier to get drinks with the two of us.”

“Yeah, I can come, I need some fresh air anyway.”

Internally, you cheered. So far, so good. Now you just had to not mess things up. “Great! Sakura, can you let everyone know that we’ll be right back?”

“I sure can.” Sakura sent you a wink as the three of you stood up and you could only hope that Hyewon hadn’t seen it. “Have fun.”

You sent her a look, but nodded and headed for the door behind Hyewon, your heart pounding. This was real now. You were going to ask the woman of your dreams out.

The walk to the store was uneventful, with the two of you continuing the conversation you’d been having about her most recent video game. But once inside the store, you did your best to pay attention to her even as you picked out the different drinks you thought everyone would like. What could you get her? What could you say? How were you actually going to do this?

“Oh, I like this kind of bread!” With her arms full of drinks, she stopped in front of a display case, gazing down at the stack of packaged breads in front of her. Immediately, you realized this was your chance and slipped in closer to look.

“That kind is good! Do you want it?”

She considered it, pouting her lips ever so slightly. You could tell that she wanted it, because she pretty much always wanted food, but she seemed conflicted. “We came to buy drinks, so I don’t know.”

“I can get it for you, don’t worry about it. I know you want it.”

She flushed slightly and laughed, glancing back at you with that small smile she always saved just for you. “Was I that obvious?”

“You’re always obvious when it comes to food,” you said playfully, picking up one of the breads. “You don’t have to hold yourself back.”

“Are you sure? I can pay you back.”

“It’s just bread, don’t worry about it. I’ll treat you this time.”

“If you’re sure,” she said, “then I’ll let you treat me.”

“I’m sure,” you replied with a laugh. “Is that all we need?” Thankfully, nothing felt too awkward yet. Maybe you could do this.

“I think so. Let’s check out.”

-

Once outside the store, Hyewon held the bags on her forearm as she used her hands to open the bread, making you laugh, amused by her eagerness to eat.

“Are you excited?”

“I am. Thank you again.” She tore off a piece and offered it to you, and after a moment of hesitation, you accepted it with a smile. The bread was sweet and you enjoyed it, even if you were standing under a streetlight as you ate it. “Is it good?” She asked and you nodded quickly, giving her your approval.

“It is, I liked it.”

“It’s my favorite.” She fell quiet as she started to eat and you glanced around, realizing that it was pretty much just the two of you on the street, standing in the cool summer night air and eating bread. It was kind of funny, but the butterflies in your stomach started back up when you remembered what you were supposed to be doing.

You had to just ask her. You couldn’t let this opportunity go to waste.

“Hey, Hyewon?”

“Yes?”

Just ask. You took a deep breath and gripped the bags in your hands harder. “Do you want to go out with me?”

The night was too silent, even in the city, and time seemed to slow down as you waited for her answer, too nervous to even look at her. After a few seconds, she let out a little laugh and you dared to glance over. Her face was red and she was covering her mouth, her eyes crinkled up at the sides like they always did when she smiled or laughed really big. You swallowed as the pounding of your heart got worse, managing a lopsided smile.

“Is that a good reaction?”

“It is,” she said finally, nodding her head and pulling her hand away from her mouth to reveal a smile. “I was just surprised because.... I was planning on asking you out tonight too.”

Well, you hadn’t been expecting that. Your eyes widened as you took in what she was saying. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah, I had planned it out with Eunbi and Yena and everything.” She laughed again, leaning back against the front of the store. Finally, you laughed too, realizing that she had done the exact same thing as you.

“I planned this out with Chaeyeon and Sakura!”

“Really?” The both of you burst into giggled, a bit shy and embarrassed but also amused. “I guess great minds think alike?”

“That must be it.” As the two of you calmed down from laughing, you bit your lip and locked eyes with her. “So can I take that as a yes?”

Her smile grew and she sat away from the wall slightly, looking down at her bread, nodding her head, then looking back at you. “You can take that as a yes. But let me give you something first, because I worked really hard on it!” She shifted the bread into one hand and rummaged through her purse with the other, then pulled out a small card and handed it over to you, a blush on her cheeks. “Um, I was supposed to ask you if you wanted to come over to see that new game I was telling you about, since Yena and I live in the same building. Then they told me to give you this letter to ask you out since I was too nervous to say it out loud.”

You took the letter with gentle fingers, emotions welling up in your chest. The fact that she’d planned so much made you feel so special, and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling as you opened up the card. Inside was a short yet sweet note:

(Y/N),

This is kind of awkward, but I want to tell you how I feel. I really like you and I have for a while now. I could never get the words right before, but I don’t just want to be friends with you anymore. I want to be something more, so will you go out with me? I promise I’ll get better at words so that I can tell you exactly how much you mean to me.

- Hyewon

“You can take your time getting better with words,” you said softly as you closed the card. “I understand your feelings. And I really like you too.” You held out your hand and she took it, moving over to be just a bit closer to you.

“My plan didn’t really go like I thought it would,” she said carefully, “but you can still come over if you want to.” Her voice was hopeful and that same giddy feeling was back, mixing with all the other emotions swirling around in your chest and making you feel like you might explode, but in the best way possible.

“We just have to make a stop to drop off these drinks. Then I’m all yours.”

“Then let’s get these back as fast as possible.”

[jlf23tumble]

1D Day, Hour One

God only knows what this hellscape will look like on December 18, so if I’m gonna recap each hour of 1D Day, I might as well do it now, eh?? 1D Day is a gift that none of us really deserved, and yeah, it has a ton of shitty moments, but much like X Factor itself, the true gem is Louis Tomlinson and how much he runs this entire show (and lbr, the band itself), Jesus, god, do I love him.

Anyway, 1D Day aired 7 hours of live content on November 23, 2013 to promote Midnight Memories, and yes, yes, we’ve all seen the gifsets, but like anything else with this band, it’s tremendously better in context. I watched this whole thing a couple of years ago, when I first got into this fandom, but I didn’t know all of the dynamics then, so it’s extra fascinating to me now. We’ve all binged worse shit than this that took way longer, and I promise you won’t regret an hour a night for a week--but if you’d rather read my hot take, here you go, under the cut! Note: these are really shitty screengrabs, and for that, I am truly sorry.

A horrible announcer introduces the D by saying they weigh in at a collective 792 pounds, and all I can wonder is does this mean they have daily weigh-ins, why is it that specific? This focus on their weight is just gross to me. C’mon, writers, you’re better than this (j/k, you aren’t).

The three-foot bubble between Louis and Harry is established pretty early on, with Harry doing the prettiest sitting in all the land before bolting to his feet immediately because Louis happened to walk by his couch. A very real question: Was this bubble a requirement that Ben Winston constantly whispers into their headpieces, or did sbb decide, hey, let’s make it obvious that we have to CONSTANTLY adjust where we stand, even if it’s two feet away because that’s not enough room for Jesus?

There are some truly hilarious guest “stars” to announce, the first being the giant video head of David Beckham, which pops up and immediately starts speaking, so we're already off to the races with a) fuckups and b) Louis’s annoyance at said fuckups.

Liam takes a good hard look at his future:

Harry isn’t allowed to gaze at Becks, he’s off by the listening booth, which is a giant red call box because they’re Briddish, pip pip, cheerio. Unrelated, but I low-key feel like Harry's coked up or else really taking the piss with all his “LIVE BANDDDDDDD,” JERRY! JERRY! JERRY!,” etc., not to mention how fast he’s speaking, the way he grinds on the guitarist’s lap while Louis fonds at the sky, and all the yelling with arms aloft.

The best part of the rundown of the guest “stars” (or breast stars, if you’re Niall) is that we’re only in the first 10 minutes, so everyone’s giving it a go, but then we get to Mr. Simon Cowell, and Niall claps five times to stony silence (me as Harry constantly staring at Louis from three feet away):

Piers Morgan comes out to describe the “grilling” he’s going to give them later, all angry—genuinely angry—that they’re trending on twitter because they keep saying that he smells. And they don’t stop, even here, they keep yelling, “What’s that smell? You stink, etc.,” and he’s such a dick that I want to bottle this moment and spritz it around my house daily.

This mild trash talking continues, with Piers promising “tears from Piers,” but Slytherin Niall pulls the fingernail out of his mouth, smiles that sneaky smile, and says, “Yeah, but this isn’t Piers Morgan Day, is it, this is 1D Day,” and I want a transcript because there’s so much talking, but all of it trashes Piers, and god, I love my sons.

Anyway, they keep winding Piers up (Piers: “I’m going to find out what you’re most embarrassed about,” Liam: “The way you smell,” Piers, genuinely in a rage: “Don’t say that”), and he keeps talking about how he’s interviewed heads of state, etc., the implication being that this is below him, but Niall counters that Oprah and Barbara Walters have, too, and they would have much preferred Oprah, to the point where Piers admits they couldn’t afford Oprah (lmaooooooo). 

We move on to Harry, spinning a twitter wheel that means they’ll follow whoever it lands on, which seems like a cute idea. I’m guessing it’s the official twitter handle?? I don’t know or actually care!

Louis can’t read the teleprompter, and he mutters later that it’s because it makes no sense rather than being too hard to actually see, but me as Niall, already yawning at the 25-minute mark (the bubble is preserved, though, whew):

I’m guessing Scott Mills is the “host” of this show because he comes out with a stick (??) and an agenda (Scott’s no Dermot…he has a face for radio, as they used to say back in the day). This whole section just features a lot of Harry and his pinned sleeves staring at Louis, and honestly relatable:

The next task is toilet paper roll stacking, with two judges from the Guinness Book of World Records on hand to see if this band of hyenas can beat the current world record and stack 28 (!!!!) rolls in 30 seconds. Two reasons to love Louis: he interrupts this idiocy to ask, “How did you two get into this, is this a full-time job you do every day?” (I was wondering the exact same thing), and this is his face for this challenge:

Sadly, they fail, and Harry’s the one who has to tell the judges, “Well, sorry for wasting your time!” with a cheery wave from the ladder. Uh oh, though, the bubble, we’re at two feet:

Much better!

This is still too close for Ben Winston’s comfort, so we split up the teams in what feels like a college course with a lot of money to run fake broadcasting drills. Zouis gets to report from the field, with some tweet rapping; the weather guy, sports guy, and lead broadcaster experience some technical difficulties, prompting Harry’s infamous, “SOMETHING’S GONE WRONG,” and we’re off to Poland:

For a production company that seems hell bent on “no homo,” there are lots of things that raise my brows, like this big “handsome” (Harry’s words) he-man who’s going to pull a “boohs” full of 1D fans over a line, so the boys have to guess how long it’s going to take him…by writing all over his mostly nude body (I’m the eye contact that Harry and Louis maintain during this):

Dude pulls the boohs successfully, so yay! Next up is Wrong Direction, the world’s worst lookalikes (HONESTLY, I’m embarrassed for everyone in this segment on Hollywood Blvd: the idiots who are “fooled” by this, the guys themselves and the low-key insult of it all, myself because this went on for way too long):

I’ll spare everyone the individual matchups because yike, but the real Wrong Direction comes to the studio, with all the guys dressed up like their matches, and the real D is polite, albeit mildly “wtf are we supposed to do about this” (me, too, Zayn). Points to Harry for at least trying to strike up some conversation: “Did you have foon, acting like us?” We’re supposed to vote for the best one on Google+ (lolololololol).

Scott takes two girls who look like they’re legit about to pass out into the red call box so they can be the first people to listen to the new album. While they listen to something none of us can hear, we get some VT (that’s “videotape,” god, I hate the whole lingo lesson we got earlier) of Spain and some fans, all of which feels like lengthy filler. I feel for the people Scott mentions as being asleep during this because there is a LOT of fill. Maybe make this shit shorter, just a suggestion!

Next up is Jamie Scott from his home somewhere in the middle of the night; he wrote most of Midnight Memories along with Louis and Liam, and he gives them an 8.5 in terms of how they did on a scale of 1-10 (and that’s AFTER Louis insults his pillows with the alphabet on them, “In case you forget”). There’s a lot of Lilo hand-shaking in celebration, and some enthusiastic clapping from Harry (a little too enthusiastic…I’m gonna imagine that someone tells him to tone it down in his earpiece because he looks around quite a bit):

A few things happen that don’t really interest me: the first listen of “Through the Dark” (this is skipped in the vid), a remote report from Radio Disney (Harry: “HOLLYWOODDDDDD!”) and a fan who wins the chance to come visit them later in the day, and then we’re back to Scott, who looks exhausted, and it’s only been 40 minutes.

All is not lost, because the next VT is the totally unnecessary yet extremely vital coverage of the D’s exercise regime. I’ve seen so many gifsets of hottttt and sweaty Lirry, but you haven’t lived until you’ve heard Niall’s American accent while he stretches: “Welcome to my workout dvd! I’ll be with you for the next 45 minutes to  give you the lowdown of how I stay in shape.” PLEASE @ NIALL, DO THIS.

I really WANT to be Harry and effortlessly pump out pushups, but in reality I’m Zouis, popping some robot dance moves and drinking Red Bull. The weird shorthand throughout this is that Liam is an animal (Ziam + a whip = fire), Harry’s into flirty sexercise, Niall wants an arse like Kim K’s, Zayn’s a slender boxer, and Louis…just fucks around? Missed opp for footie Louis.

The first performance is “Story of My Life,” and we’ve all seen it before, but godDAMN, Zayn sings like an angel. Lots of technical problems in the audio, prompting quite a few Louis/Harry hand gestures, but still, in spite of it all, they sound amazing individually and together.

Even local asshole Piers Morgan is impressed, as he comes out to tell them that they were surprisingly good, along with a bunch of other neg bullshit. This is another one of those segments that it pays to watch the whole clip of, and Jesus, do I want a transcript. They head over to the couches, and Piers points at Louis and says, “You have the most reason to be nervous,” but Louis’s like, “Yeah, but I’m not,” and wow, #goals.

Everyone gets a couch, and the upshot is that Piers is a terrible egoist who thinks he’s a fantastic interviewer, but he really isn’t…all the questions are shit, and these five eat him alive. Everything he asks falls flat, and it’s so masterfully, subversively handled, from Louis’s iconic “define girlfriends” (and the underappreciated attempt by Harry to define it for Piers later: “Like in primary school, if you hold hands with a girl and you're eight, is that a girlfriend?”) to the obsession with smells (Piers asking Niall, “Why do you always smell,” claiming it’s a fan’s question, and Niall answering that it’s because he had colic as a child, so can only fart; Piers asking Zayn, “Who stinks the worst,” and Zayn saying that they all smell quite good, actually) to Piers demanding to see Zayn’s tattoo and relentlessly attacking him for it being a gun (Louis keeps interjecting that it’s a watergun, but go off I guess, paraphrasing).

But the best is always Louis. “What’s the weirdest thing a girl has done to impress you?” “Tweeted Piers Morgan.” Later, he says pointblank to Piers, “You do stink.” But then…but THEN, it’s the Four interview 1.0, only instead of Ben trying to get Louis to deny gay rumors, it’s Piers, who does it twice: “What’s the one rumor you wouldn’t want to hear about yourself?” Louis’s answer: “That I’m not good at football.” “Are you good?” “No….I just wouldn’t want it confirmed.” Piers tries AGAIN: “What’s the worst thing you’ve had to read about yourself?” but Louis turns it around and says he hates reading about one of the other boys being dead (!).

Because he’s the worst, Piers takes it to the ladies and asks how many girlfriends they’ve had and how many times they’ve kissed a girl. Harry says he’s kissed 8 ladies (which prompts a good scoff out of Zayn), and everyone else says 5 or 6, 3 or 4, etc., with Louis declaring he’s only had one proper relationship (no genders mentioned), so maybe 2 (lmaooooo). Piers gets all excited that he’s kissed more girls than this hot boyband has, and I wanna say, you’re almost there, “friend”…keep working it through.

There’s more antics w/r/t Piers, like his poor 2YO daughter crying, and him trying to blame it on Harry Styles not answering her dad’s sex questions or stupid questions about embarrassing things they’ve caught the others doing, and yeah, I don’t think they’ll get into the big ot5 gang bang on live TV, but ask anyway, I guess?

The last person to suffer sitting next to Piers is Liam, and I love him always, but especially for saying, “How’s it going there, stinky?” when Piers takes a seat to ask him why he’s so sexy. Piers tries to “joke” that the sexy question is for him, but nobody says anything, and then he asks Liam AGAIN before admitting that it’s a shitty question, so then he asks about them all wearing tight jeans, and godddddd, why does anyone let him interview anyone?? 

The good news is that Piers can tell he lost, so as he tells them that he thinks they’re pretty okay, actually, but, “You’ve gotta stop calling me stinky,” and you know they never will.

Scott says it might feel like much longer, but it’s only been an hour, and Zayn’s lookalike won, so we can all rest easy. This hour closes with a review of the highlights, and it’s ham-fisted and awful. Shocking!!!!

I can’t do one of these every single day, but I’ll do hour two sometime soon! Hope you enjoyed this, @justlarried, lol!

[sawyer-saucee]

Selfish

Summary: Roman tries to convince himself that giving up the callback in the name of being there for his friends is worth it, but he’s never been great at lying.

Word Count: 918

Pairings: None

Warnings: Crying, shouting, arguments, caps lock, spoilers for Selflessness vs. Selfishness

AN: So, a bit of a hot take- I don’t like how the newest Sanders Sides video ended. I think that Thomas should have gone for the callback, and taken that once-in-a-lifetime opportunity over the event that he didn’t even want to go to. I think he could have explained it and his friends would have understood. So, I did what any unsatisfied fanfiction writer would do- I wrote out the angsts aftermath. Enjoy!

Roman say quietly in his room, his head resting lifelessly on his palm. The normally vibrant red-and-gold hues of his decor had been strangely dull recently, and after that fiasco of a filming session, almost all of the color had drained to a drab, soulless gray.

Somehow, it seemed, the other sides had been led to believe that Roman did not care about Thomas’s friends, which was decidedly untrue. He was the embodiment of passion, after all, and in a person like Thomas there was no greater passion than caring for one’s friends. So, though he loved them all dearly and knew that their wants were ultimately more important than his own, he couldn’t help but be crushed at the prospect of missing that callback. It had been a dream come true! He had run around the commons for hours screaming about how absolutely elated he was when they’d all first gotten the news, but now... that dream was gone. Just another one down the drain.

Curling into himself further, Roman let out a heavy, wet sigh. He felt utterly pathetic as tears began to drip down his cheeks.

Crying over this was useless! The opportunity was gone, moment passed, he should just have been able to over it and move on! It was just... he’d been fantasizing about an opportunity like this for so long, and the others wouldn’t even consider skipping one event to make the callback. One event, that’s all it was! One that no one even wanted to go to!

He clamped his hand over his mouth to stifle the sobs that were slowly growing in intensity, as he didn’t want anybody else to hear. They would just call him names again. “Oh, Roman, so self-obsessed, can’t you see that Mary Lee and Lee are so much more important to us than some silly callback?”

A soft knock on Roman’s door forced him to lift his eyes from where they were buried in his arms. Calling out to whoever was there would be stupid, they would hear how hoarse his voice was and know that he’d been crying. He opted to just sit in silence and hope they’d go away.

“Hello?” A voice called from the other side of the door. Patton’s, Roman realized.

“He’s probably ignoring you, Pat, just give it up.” Virgil’s voice chimed in as he passed in the hallway. At least he’d caught onto the ‘Please-leave-me-alone” energy.

“I just want to check on him,” Patton whispered. “He seemed bummed earlier. Ro? Kiddo?” As Patton raised his voice, the doorknob began to turn. Roman scrambled up out of his seat, glancing in the mirror at his scruffy red sweatpants and tear stained face. He could not be seen like this.

“Ro? Oh, gosh-“

Well, too late.

Patton stood in the doorway, head cocked in innocent concern. “Are you doing okay, kiddo?”

A watery laugh erupted from Roman’s chest, and he let himself collapse backwards onto the bed. “Yeah, padre. I’m doing fantastic.”

“Lying is Deceit’s job, you know.” A gentle hand carded through Roman’s hair, and the prince felt the mattress shift as Patton sat next to him.

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Roman growled, pushing Patton’s hand away as his temper boiled over. “In truth, I’m absolutely devastated about how all of this played out, but my saying that doesn’t change the fact that we threw away a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for a stupid wedding!”

“Roman-“ Patton tried to reach for Roman’s hand, but fell short as Roman stood abruptly and marched across the room. Patton flinched as he began to pace rather furiously in a circle on the hardwood floor.

“No, Patton! You don’t understand! We just blatantly discarded something incredible that we may never get A chance at ever again!”

“But- Mary Lee and Lee will only get married once too, and-“

“We showed at their housewarming party! The baby shower! That dumb party they threw for their cat, the second housewarming party, the engagement party, even that stupid barbecue they threw to celebrate their son’s first word! We’ve constantly been there for them, Patton!”

The bed creaked as Patton shot up, face borderline frantic as he argued, “W-well, we can’t just give up our support for them whenever it’s not convenient for us!”

Roman let out a loud groan, fresh tears of frustration spilling from his eyes. “Why can’t we ever have what we want, Patton? I am so sick of burning out, constantly tabling my wants, losing sleep and motivation all in the name of putting others before ourselves! We’re not a fucking robot companion, Patton! We have a life! Wishes! Dreams! I just want to bail on this one dull, emotionally taxing, completely unfulfilling event to take an opportunity that will never come again! I DON’T CARE IF THAT MAKES ME SELFISH!” Romans’ chest heaved as he finished, his lungs trying to catch up with all he’d said in one breath. Across from him, Patton stood silently. His face was frighteningly unreadable, the normally expressive features looking strangely calculating as the pair locked eyes.

“Kiddo, listen...”

“Just get out.” Roman snarled, turning his back to Patton.”

“Roman, if you’d just-“

“I SAID GET OUT!” Roman’s scream shook the room, the gray walls flashing red as his rage built.

Soft footsteps gave way to the sound of a latch clicking shut, and Roman knew he was once again alone.

He collapsed where he stood, his entire body shaking with the force of his sobs.

[tera-91]

Bruises … and a Movie?

Whew! I finished this just in time for Virgil’s name reveal day! So this started out as something loosely based on Fall Out Boy’s A little less Sixteen Candles music video buuut I couldn't get the vampire thing quite right so it morphed into this. Also this is my first Sander Sides fic soo yeah, if I tagged you its because I have read something of yours and loved it and think you’re an awesome writer and would love your feedback <3. I would love feedback regardless if I tagged you though.

Pairing: LAMP/CALM could be platonic but can also be seen as romantic

Warnings: bruises, slight mention of fighting/attack, pain, comfort, care, FLUFFY, Deceit mention, Remy mention

Notes: I love Virgil I swear! Also I have nothing against individuals named Sam, just had to give Deceit a name.

Word Count: 2777

They all met their sophomore year in college. Roman was a Theater major but minored in English and met Virgil in a British Literature class. Virgil was an English major and while he minored in Art he met Patton during an outing for digital photography. Patton had also been minoring in Art as he majored in Psychology where he met Logan in Social Psychology. Logan on the other hand was a double major in both Psychology and Astronomy. Despite having varied interest academically, they all loved music in some form or fashion. Growing up they all learned how to play a guitar, bass, or drums. Now that they met each other and eventually moved in together they could all play each instrument to varying abilities.

Patton stared at Virgil’s door for what seemed like the hundredth time. They were all worried about him. He had gone out a few nights ago and none of them had seen him since, they had heard him in his room so they knew he made it back, but he wouldn’t open the door or come out. He had never been hidden away from them that long since he had moved into the home.

“Virge?” Patton called as he lightly knocked on the door. “Wanna come out?” He asked just loud enough that he knew Virgil would be able to hear him as he leaned his head against the door.

It was a few heart beats to long for Patton when he heard Virgil’s reply. It nearly broke Patton’s heart, in more ways than one. A strangled sounding “No” could just barely be heard through the solid wooden door.

Patton deflated slightly as he leaned more of his weight on the door. “Please Virge? We’re worried about you. We haven’t seen you in days.” Patton was taken by surprise at the tell-tale sound of the door knob turning and didn’t have any time to react as the door opened. He mentally prepared himself for the impact with the floor, but it never came. He hit something solid, covered in soft fabric and heard a pained grunt. He slowly opened his eyes to realize Virgil had caught him and he was being held against his chest. Any embarrassment he would have felt quickly got overshadowed by concern. The dark circles under his eyes looked darker than usual, despite having his hood up what hair could be seen was greasy as if he hadn’t taken a shower in days, and what speared Patton in the heart was the look of fear in Virgil’s eyes as he stared down at Patton.

“Hey Pat!” the pair heard Roman call out. Virgil went to retreat back into his room, but Patton reacted quickly and held on to Virgil like his life depended on it. Virgil stood stock still and looked like a deer in headlights when Roman rounded the corner and saw him and Patton. “V-virgil?” Roman kicked himself for choking slightly. He wanted to run and hug Virgil but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, knowing the other wasn’t the biggest fan of sudden physical contact.

When Patton felt Virgil relax slightly and was sure the other wouldn’t try to bolt back into his room Patton slowly loosened his grip and leaned back but still kept a grip on his arms. “C’mon Virge?” Patton asked gently as he pulled Virgil’s arms slightly. He sounded so quiet and sad that Virgil melted and followed as he was led to the living room by Patton with Roman following after them.

As the three made their way into the living room Logan, who was sitting on the couch reading a book looked up, was taken aback at the sight of Virgil. He slowly marked his place and put the book down without looking away from the group. He looked like he was torn between staying quite and saying something. Patton urged Virgil to sit on the couch next to Logan who had an arm reached out. Slowly Virgil relented and sat down next to Logan who then put his arm around Virgil’s shoulders.

Roman slowly made his way and stood in front of Virgil, he didn’t want the other to feel cornered and risk him running away. Slowly he placed his hand on Virgil’s knee and sank down so he was kneeling in front of Virgil. Virgil looked down at Roman, a look of fear and uncertainty in his eyes. Roman hated seeing Virgil with that expression on his face, the worst part about it was that he didn’t know what caused it or how to fix it.

“Virge? …” Roman began wanting so desperately to find out why the resident emo had been avoiding them the last few days but his uncertainty caused any other words to stick in his throat. The three sat in awkward silence as they waited for Patton. They could hear various cabinet doors being opened and shut as well as clinks from mugs. Soon Patton made his way into the room. He walked around the couch but tripped on the edge of the area rug that Roman’s drum set sat on for quick mobility to pull it out of the way when he wasn't practicing, which he had left out when he had gone to get Patton to listen to his latest composition. 

Virgil was the first to react “Pat-ugh” Virgil called out as he jumped up from his seat and went to catch Patton but faltered in pain before Logan pulled him back onto the couch. Roman reacted a split second later and was able to reach and pull Patton in such a way that the taller man could catch the smaller in his lap as he took the brunt of the impact with his own body.

Neither payed attention to the now spilled hot cocoa on the carpet nor did they pay attention to any pain of their own that bloomed from their fall. Both men looked up at Virgil from their position on the floor to see him hunched over on the couch half in Logan’s lap with his head on the others shoulder and an arm curled around his midsection and his face twisted in pain.

“Virgil!” Patton all but screamed as he jumped out of Roman’s lap. When he reached Virgil he gently placed his hands on either side of the others face. “Virge, where does it hurt hun?” Patton asked softly as he ran his left hand up along Virgil’s face and up threw his unwashed hair before pushing off the hood. Patton couldn’t stop the gasp from making its way out. The right side of Virgil’s jaw bruised, the color almost matching the purple of his jacket perfectly. Virgil’s eyes shut tighter as he pushed his face into Logan’s neck with a groan. He didn’t want Patton to see the bruises. The sudden movement momentarily stole his breath and had caused every bruise, every cut to scream at him. He couldn’t even react when he heard the zipper to his jacket being undone.

The three shared a concerned look and nodded in silent agreement. As gently as they could Logan helped Roman move Virgil onto the floor, so they could look him over more easily. Gingerly, Roman traded places with Logan and sat with Virgil’s back against his chest as Logan and Patton took off Virgil’s jacket and subsequently his shirt. Once they were done, they were all speechless.

Virgil had finally opened his eyes, his breathing evening out as they pain faded to a dull ache. He glanced over to his right, it nearly broke his heart, where Patton sat with both of his hands covering his mouth and tears threatening to spill. Logan was to his left, expression schooled but he could see the anger in his eyes. He relaxed just enough to turn his head to be able to see Roman. Since he was the tallest and with Roman leaning over his shoulder the way he was, presumably to be able to see the bruises, it wasn’t that difficult. Roman was beyond anger, Virgil could practically see steam coming out of his ears.

“Who did this to you? I’ll-“ Roman began.

“No.” Logan cut him off.

“But he’s -“ Roman started to protest but stopped when he saw the look in Logan’s eyes. If it was possible the look alone would kill whoever did this to Virgil as quickly as if the aggressors name was written in the Death Note.

“No, Roman. He will be fine. I’m sure it hurts like hell and while this looks bad, he is only bruised.” Logan stated as he ran his hands along Virgil’s torso pushing down in various places. Despite Virgil’s occasional groans and hisses Roman relaxed, Logan was a trained paramedic after all. He settled on simply reaching for and holding the man in his arms hand.

Virgil moved to sit up, with the aid of Roman, he moved so that his back was up against the couch. He reached towards Patton who had yet to move, tears now free flowing, a mixture of relief and worry settled onto his face. Patton quickly slid to Virgil’s side, on his knees he was just taller than Virgil, and pulled Virgil’s head so that it was cradled against his chest. With a grunt from Virgil he instantly loosened his grip around the others’ head with a low “sorry”. Virgil quieted the others worry by wrapping his free arm around Patton’s waist and gave it a quick squeeze in a half hug but kept his arm there.

“However,” Logan started which caused Virgil to pull his head away from Patton’s embrace. “I would like to know who caused these injuries.” Logan finished as he sat on his knees in front of Virgil, arms crossed. Virgil made a move to protest, but Logan simply quirked an eyebrow and gestured to his tie, to show he was serious. Virgil sighed and laid his head against Patton’s chest, who had wrapped his arm around Virgil’s shoulder and began to run his free hand through Virgil’s mahogany brown hair.

“It was Sam.” Virgil said before he buried his face in Patton’s shirt, enjoying the feeling of having his hair played with.

“That SNAKE!” Roman exclaimed before he made a move to stand which was quickly halted by Virgil who pulled Roman back, hands still intertwined. Roman’s anger quickly dissipated as he watched Patton sooth Virgil. Roman huffed, “Why would he do that? How many times has he stayed here? Had dinner with us?” Roman asked.

Virgil turned his head, not yet willing to have Patton stop his ministrations. “Before I moved in with you guys, I didn’t have anywhere to stay. In college I had the dorms but once graduation happened I had no fall back. For the few complexes I could afford the monthly rent, I didn’t have enough saved up for the two-month down payment plus the application fee and all that.” Virgil began, he felt Patton’s grip around him tighten, he had never told them.

“Virgil! That was almost six months!” Patton exclaimed. “N-not that I kept track.” He mumbled as a blush appeared on his face.

Virgil leaned back, already missing Patton’s fingers through his hair. “I had met Sam halfway through Junior year, I let him stay over now and again, I didn’t know he was homeless until summer break. He really helped me when I couldn’t stay in the dorms. I thought he was my friend until a few nights ago.” He finished quietly as he made a reach for his shirt.

“That, that-“ Roman stumbled, unsure of what to say as he handed Virgil his clothes back.

“Deceit” Logan said. At the quizzical look Roman gave him Logan continued “Deceit, or to deceive. To cause someone to believe in a falsehood, in this case his continued friendship with Virgil, to gain a personal advantage, to acquire temporary shelter and food in his dorm and then our home.” Logan finished as he stood. “Now, lets get Virgil back on the couch, it will be far more comfortable than the floor.” He said as he exited the room.

With some help Virgil stood up. He and Roman made their way to the chaise end of the couch so they would have room to stretch out. Roman sat down first and got comfortable before he reached for Virgil, who settled in between Romans legs with his back against Roman’s chest like they had been on the floor. Roman put his arms under Virgil’s and held him in a loose hug, hands resting on Virgil’s stomach and chin resting on Virgil’s head. Patton waited until they were comfortable before he swiftly picked up the almost-forgotten mug and took it back to the kitchen.

Logan returned with a glass of water and held a closed hand out to Virgil. “A low dose pain medication.” He stated as Virgil reached out and took the medication and glass. Virgil took it without complaint as Logan slowly crawled onto the couch to Virgil and Roman’s left, in between them and the arm of the couch. He watched as Virgil downed most of the glass before he took it away and sat it on the table beside the couch.

Patton returned briefly to expertly clean the carpet before he disappeared back into the kitchen. When Patton reappeared seconds later, this time he expertly carried four mugs instead of just the one and made sure he didn’t trip.

“Hey Pattoncake? Would you please put the Nightmare Before Christmas in the DVD player for the skeleton here?” Roman asked, a slight playful edge to his voice and a smirk on his face.

“Sure Ro!” Patton said excitedly as he placed two mugs on the table beside Logan and two on the table in front of the couch.

“I have told you multiple times Virgil is within an acceptable weight range for his height.” Logan said as he reached for the Doctor Who mug and Nightmare Before Christmas mug, handing Virgil’s mug to him.

Virgil snorted as he took the mug from Logan “He is just playing Lo, he means skeleton in the same way he means when he calls you specks.”

Logan seemed to understand, “Ah, it appears your humor still baffles me occasionally.”

“It’s okay Princey! We still love you.” Patton said with a smile as he picked up the mug with the Disney castle and 101 dalmatian mug before he settled onto the couch to Roman and Virgil’s right. Roman disconnected his hands and pulled his arms out from around Virgil, who let out an almost inaudible sound of displeasure. Roman grabbed the castle mug and set it in his left hand, he took a sip and laid his arm against Virgil’s before he threw his right arm around Patton’s shoulders.

As the previews began to play Logan spoke up. “Why did Sam attack you? How did you get home? More importantly why didn’t you tell us? I would’ve provided medical care sooner.” He asked while he looked at Virgil.

“He just got really mad out of nowhere and started swinging at me. I got a few punches in but afterwards Remy helped me back.” Virgil said as he reached up with his left hand and grabbed a fist full of his hair as he avoided any of their eyes. “I didn’t want to worry you”. He said, he didn’t want them to see that he was weak, that he didn’t deserve to live with them. He slowly unclenched his hair and looked up as Patton gently cupped his unbruised cheek and put just enough pressure, so his face would turn towards Patton.

“Oh Virge, no matter what he said you’re not weak and you do deserve to live with us.” He paused “We love you, and if you keep talking about yourself like that I will physically fight you.” Patton said with a chuckle as he let go of Virgil and pushed his glasses up to wipe what remained of the tears from his eyes. Virgil stared in shock he hadn’t realized he said all of it out loud. “When you’re not hurting.” Patton quickly added as he sat back and leaned against Roman while taking Logan’s free hand across Virgil’s lap and effectively looping Virgil into a four-way hug.

The opening dialog and opening of This is Halloween captured their attention. A small smile made its way to Virgil’s face as they all snuggled together on the couch, with their hot cocoa and each other, watching a movie that they all loved, whether they all admitted that fact or not.

@not-so-innocent-bi-sander @princeanxious @j-d-lightful @sandersfander1820 @myjamofchoiceis-crofters @could-always-be-gayer-2 @teacupfulofstarshine 

[frejahertziswritingthistime]

Idiot

A/N: This is written for the amazingly talented @fanaticwritings and her writing challenge! I was bestowed with the great prompt of: Stop filming this, idiot! And I think it turned out super cool!

I hope you guys like it – remember, feedback feeds the writer!

MASTERLIST

Pairings: Dean x reader

Warnings: language, FLUFF, mentions of drinking 

 You were woken up by a loud thump and groaning – you shot straight up, sleep forgotten, and stared into the dark room, you called your own in the bunker. The door was open, and a little light from the hallway shone in, illuminating the large body of whoever had tumbled into your room. You groaned, and turned on the light, which made the body on the floor make a loud hissing sound.

“noooooooo…” You could barely hear the grumble, because the dude’s face was mushed into the floor. You got up, wrapped your sheet around your naked body, and walked to the body on the floor, crouching down. The air around the man on the floor smelled like the inside of a hobo’s mouth, mixed with the lovely stale stench of a dingy bar – complete with smoke and old beer. He turned his face a little, a small squeak sounding, as his sweaty cheek scraped the floor.

“Dean?” A smirk fell on the edge of his lips, like he was holding on to a secret. He could give the Mona Lisa a run for its money.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He slurred. You groaned and sat down, crosslegged next to him. “Why are you drunk? Or, more pressing, why are you this drunk” you gestured to his fallen frame on the floor, “and in my room, on the floor?” He groaned and rolled around, so he was on his back, the light from the hallway lighting up his face.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Alright, drunky, let’s go.” He groaned as you took hold of his arm, but refused to move – he did, in fact, seem to make his body heavier than before, which made it harder than ever to get him off the floor.

“Dude, come ooon, help me out a little! You gotta go to bed!” He grumbled and looked at you with big eyes and a pout. “I wanna go in your bed.” You let his arm go, and it fell to the floor with a loud smack. “Dean, stop that. You’re acting like a baby.” He whined and you rolled your eyes at him. Of fucking course, now he wanted to be in your bed. When he was drunk and had mucked up at a bar. Not when you wanted him in your bed – which had been every night for the last two years of your life – and when you wanted him to want to be there.

Love was a bitch.

Dean rolled over and tried to get up on his elbows and knees, but fell flat to his face with a soft ouch. You couldn’t help but laugh, and pulled your phone out, turning on the camera and the flash to film Dean’s very shitty endeavors. He glared up at you after the fourth fall and a few amazingly timed curses.

“Why are you filming this, you idiot?” he hissed, reaching out to grab you and your phone. You giggled and jumped out of reach. “Because you’re damn adorable. And Sam would kill me, if he found out I didn’t film this.” He groaned and finally managed to get to his knees, leaning back on the balls of his feet, and pointed at you.

“You’re goddamn lucky I love you, or I would have snapped your phone in half.” You took a step back, eyes wide and let your phone fall down to the floor next to you; unbeknownst to you, still filming.

“What did you just say…?” Dean looked confused and groaned as he got to his feet, swaying slightly in his place. “I said, I’d snap your phone in half.” You shook your head and stepped a little closer to him. “No, no, no. Before that part. The reason why you didn’t do that?” He frowned and rubbed his forehead before sending you a smile, that could have lit up the darkest corners of hell.

“I said I love you.” He stepped a little closer to you.

“But…” You couldn’t find the words. It was like your tongue was trying to bind knots on itself, making you incapable of speaking.

“But what?” He stepped another step closer to you. “But you… Bang other people… You act like an annoyed big brother to me all the time. I just don’t understand…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, before stepping another step towards you – you were now so close, your chest almost touched his.

“Yeah, I’ve been a little shit, haven’t I? Listen, Y/N…. Okay, here goes.” He sounded embarrassingly sober now, and his demeanor had changed from drunk of his ass to shy, teenage boy asking his crush to prom. “I’ve been trying to forget you a little bit. Not like.. You as a whole, perfect person, but the you I had in my head. Because that you… Holy shit, that you is something. I’ve built you up, and I can’t get you out of my damn head, which made it really fucking hard to get laid. The reason I came here tonight was because I accidentally said your name… The girl I was making out with was not happy.” You chuckled. “Anyway, I thought I’d come in here and be this cool dude, who could with no problem tell you my feelings, but… Well, you see how well that went.” He gestured to himself. “So that’s that. I love you, I’m drunk, but I really, really love you, and I have for some time now. I love you more than my car.”

After this spiel, you stood, staring up at him in the dim room, raking your brain to come up with an answer to him. You didn’t really want to do this with him drunk, or you sober. He cleared his throat. “By the way, your phone is still recording.” You glanced down at the screen on the floor, and saw the seconds tick in with a smile on your face, before bending down and ending the video.

“How about you sleep in here tonight, you complete and giant dork?” You asked with a smile. He grinned back, flinging himself onto the bed and patting the space next to him. He toed his boots off and got comfortable, as you rolled your eyes at him, getting in the bed next to him.

“I’ll take that as I didn’t fuck everything all the way up?” he whispered in the darkness, as your arm found his waist.

“Nah. You only fucked up in a minor way, and not with me.” He entangled his fingers with yours.

“Thank god, or I might actually have to snap your phone in half.” You smiled into the darkness, that now felt comfortable. Like home.

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[banshee-cheekbones]

"why haven't you kissed me yet" for shyan!

thanks to the lovely people over at the bfu writers’ discord, this spiraled into a 5.7k monster, and the title just about sums it up. 

relevant notes: contains lots of drinking, background Standrew, lots of fluff, and making out in a closet. 

on ao3 here.

BuzzFeed Presents: We Got Drunk and Played Three Typical American Party Games.

Ryan has worked at BuzzFeed long enough to learn that, across the board, when someone is about to ask you to participate in a video that could be potentially embarrassing or particularly ludicrous, they get a certain glint in their eye, some mixture of guilt and amusement.

He doesn’t know what it says about their workplace culture that he can recognize such a glint from across the room, but ten minutes after he sits down at his desk on a Monday morning, when he looks up to see Zack strolling towards him, he immediately knows that something is up.

“Ryan!” he says, perching on the very edge of Ryan’s desk. “How’s it going?”

“Just tell me what you want,” Ryan answers, leaning back in his chair. He hasn’t even finished his first coffee yet; it’s entirely too damn early for this. To his credit, Zack takes it in stride, simply shrugs and continues.

“How would you like to spend a few hours drinking on the company’s dime?”

Ryan has to admit, that does sound intriguing, but that being said, there has to be some kind of weird twist, some angle at work, so he doesn’t allow himself to get sucked in quite yet.

“What’s the catch?”

“No catch. Not really, at least. It’s not going to cost any more than a few hours of your time, and maybe a little bit of your dignity.” He trails off a little on the last words and at least has the decency to look somewhat embarrassed, a trait that Ryan thought had already been successfully bred out of most of the people he works with.

Before he can answer, Shane pipes up beside him.

“What dignity? Ryan lost all of his two seasons ago.”

“Shut up, Shane,” Ryan retorts, smacking Shane on the forearm. To Zack, he says, “Because of that comment, I’ll only do it if Shane comes with me.”

“Fine by me,” Zack says with another shrug. “Shane, you in?” Ryan twists in his chair to face Shane, who is frozen in the middle of sipping his coffee, eyes comically wide behind his clear-framed glasses. After a moment, he finishes his sip and nods, wipes coffee film from his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Sure. Why not.”

“Awesome!” Zack says as he pushes himself off the edge of Ryan’s desk. “I’ve got six more people to recruit, so I’ll come grab you guys around noon, alright?” Without waiting for an answer, he ambles off, and it’s only as he turns down a hallway and disappears from sight that Ryan realizes he doesn’t know what the actual concept for the video is.

“Damn it,” he groans, turning back to his computer and downing the rest of his own coffee. “What the fuck did I just agree to do?”

“What did we just agree to?” Shane retorts, jabbing him in the side with one finger. “You’ve dragged me down to your level, Ryan. Again.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Ryan asks, narrowing his eyes and spinning in his chair until his feet bump into Shane’s shin. Shane just stares at him, face expressionless, and eventually, realization clicks in Ryan’s head. “Wait, was that a goddamn short joke?”

Shane’s face lights up as he laughs, and damn him, Ryan hates that he finds that adorable, even when it’s at his own damn expense.

“Bit slow on the uptake there, buddy,” Shane comments, using his foot to spin Ryan back towards his desk. “Maybe you should grab more coffee.”

“It’s not my fault your ‘jokes’ have hit a new level of cryptic.” Ryan pushes away from his desk, gets to his feet and grabs his empty mug. “But I amgoing to grab more coffee. And I’m not bringing any back for you.”

“Ryan, that’s just cruel.”

“No one to blame but yourself,” Ryan calls back over his shoulder as he leaves, fully intending on bringing a cup back for Shane regardless of what he said. There are a number of kitchenettes, snack rooms and canteens scattered around the building, but the kitchenette nearest the Tasty studio always has the best coffee, so even though it’s the farthest away from his desk, he heads there. When he walks in, there’s a fresh, untouched pot sitting on the burner, and he makes a beeline for it. Andrew and Steven are sitting at the small table in the corner of the room, shoulder to shoulder, watching something on Steven’s laptop, and before Ryan can say hey, Andrew pauses the video and glances up.

“Did Zack pull you into his video too?”

“Yeah,” Ryan answers as he leans up to grab a mug for Shane from the cabinet. He has to admit that he’s begrudgingly proud of Zack; the guy seems to work fast. “Me and Shane both. Do you know what we’re doing? He just told us alcohol was involved.”

“He said the concept was drunk people playing American party games,” Steven says. “Spin the bottle, truth or dare, seven minutes in heaven. That kind of stuff.”

Ryan fumbles with his mug and nearly drops it on the floor.

Here’s the thing: he has a crush on Shane. He hasn’t tried denying that to himself for the last few months. It’s just there, always in the back of his mind but, for the most part, he’s been able to keep it in the back of his mind, keep it quietly locked away, only to be set free when he’s alone at home in his bed.

But if he has to kiss Shane on camera for some stupid video?

He’s pretty sure there’s no way he’s going to be able to come back from that.

“Are you alright?” Steven asks. “You look like you just saw a ghost.” He snickers quietly at his own joke, and Andrew rolls his eyes expansively, even as a tiny smile ticks up at the corners of his mouth.

“Just tired,” Ryan answers. “Doesn’t really seem like Zack’s kind of shtick, does it?”

“He said it was Eric’s idea, but Christian dragged him off into the woods or something. I wasn’t really listening,” Andrew answers. Ryan blinks a few times before he simply shrugs it off; dragging someone off into the woods certainly wouldn’t be the weirdest thing one BuzzFeed employee has done to another on short notice.

“Well, I’ll see you guys there,” he says, carefully grabbing both mugs of coffee. As he makes the long walk back to his desk, he tries his best to reassure himself that it’s going to be fine. If there’s going to be six other people involved, maybe fate will smile kindly upon him. Maybe he won’t end up having to kiss Shane at all.

It’ll be fine. Really.

He’s still a few feet away from his desk when Shane glances up, spies the dual mugs of coffee, and grins.

“Aw, Ry, I knew you weren’t going to hold out on me.”

And even though he says it in a goofy tone, over the top and saccharine, Ryan’s chest still aches with fondness, and he settles for muttering, “Yeah, don’t get used to it,” as he sets Shane’s coffee down in front of him.

Maybe it’s not going to be fine after all.

True to his word, just before noon, Zack shows up at their desk and leads them over to one of the larger filming rooms. There’s been no attempt to really decorate it, but there are a number of beanbag chairs and throw cushions arranged in a loose circle in the middle of the room, and there’s a table pushed against one wall that’s sagging from the weight of all the alcohol piled on top of it. They’re the last ones to arrive; the others are scattered around, already drinking, and Annie is working on setting up some static cameras in the corners. Zack claps Ryan on the shoulder and tells them both to get comfortable before he bounds over to help Annie, and Ryan swallows heavily as he heads over to the table to grab a drink.

“This is going to be a disaster,” he mutters under his breath as he grabs a beer to start.

“Would you rather do this or the fear box video all over again?” Shane asks as he stares down at the table, spindly fingers dancing back and forth in thin air before he finally grabs some kind of cider in a purple can. Ryan shudders with revulsion at that particular thought.

“Yeah, fuck that.” After popping the cap off his beer, he drops down onto a beanbag next to Sara. Within minutes, they’re so embroiled in a conversation about Star Wars, Shane groaning at appropriate intervals, knee knocking against Ryan’s, that Ryan almost forgets what the actual purpose of them all being gathered together is.

But then Zack drops an empty wine bottle into the middle of their loose circle.

“Alright, we’re gonna do the intro and then start with spin the bottle,” he announces. “If any of you are uncomfortable at any point, just tell me to fuck off. Or give me the finger. Whatever you want. Just let me know.”

While he and Annie finish fiddling with their equipment, Ryan takes a deep breath. He’s glad that there’s some lifeline he can grab onto if things get to be too much, but all he can do is hope that he won’t need to grab hold of it, that he’ll be able to make it through the day without his inconveniently large crush making itself known.

“Why are you both so tense?” Sara abruptly asks, lightly kicking Ryan’s ankle.

“What?” Immediately, Ryan glances over at Shane, who actually does look about as tense as Ryan feels. Both of his hands are wrapped tightly around the can of cider, and one of his feet is tapping rhythmically against the ground, although it stops a few seconds after Ryan looks at him.

“I’m not tense,” Shane says, taking a huge swig from his drink. “I was just trying to think of the best way to get you two to stop talking about Star Wars for five minutes.”

“Well,” Ryan answers as Zack flashes them all a thumbs up and starts counting back from three, “I think you’re about to get your wish.”

Round 1: Spin The Bottle

Since, according to the majority of them, spin the bottle is the most boring of the three games (Kate and Niki disagree, which leads into a ten minute debate, and Ryan does not envy whoever is in charge of editing this mess), they decide that each person will have three turns at the bottle and then they’ll move onto truth or dare. Even then, the process takes a long time, and Ryan’s finished his first beer and is onto his second by the time he gets his first turn.

As he leans forward and rests his fingers on the bottle, the knowledge of how close he is to Shane sinks in. While they’re in separate beanbags, the chairs are pushed so close together that their knees are mere inches apart, and Shane’s arm is actually resting on the edge of Ryan’s chair, subtly invading his space.

(But does it really count as an invasion if he doesn’t mind?)

He shakes his head, all too aware of the presence of the cameras, and gives the bottle a firm spin. When it comes to a stop, it’s pointing at Sara, and she beams at him as she starts rummaging through her pockets.

“Wait, I have something for this.” Eventually, she pulls out a tube of lip balm, slathers some on, and replaces the cap with a pop. “Alright. Lay one on me.”

Even though Ryan is comfortable enough in their friendship to know this isn’t going to make things weird, he still feels awkward leaning over and quickly pressing his lips against Sara’s. That awkwardness evaporates a moment later, when he leans back and realizes what the taste on her lips is.

“Is that coffee? They make coffee flavored lip balm?” Sara nods and grins, and Ryan licks his lips again, because it truly is bizarre just how much the lip balm tastes like real coffee.

“How come you didn’t do that when I kissed you?” Jen asks from across the circle. This time, Sara winks and pulls a different colored tube out of another pocket.

“If you land on me again, we can try this one instead.”

Shane is the last in the circle to go, and as he cranes forward, Ryan tries to keep himself composed, tries to sink back into his beanbag and drink like this is no big deal, like he’s not internally losing his goddamn mind because there’s a chance his first (and maybe only) kiss with Shane is going to be on camera.

Instead, the bottle ends up pointing at Kate, and Ryan’s so relieved (or maybe it’s disappointment that he’s feeling) that he pounds back a third of his second beer in one swig.

The second round is uneventful, with the exception that Ryan discovers that Steven has ridiculously soft lips. When Shane spins the bottle, it lands on Jen, and he kisses her cheek so sloppily that she wrinkles her nose and says, “Is that actually how you kiss people?”

It’s a question that Ryan didn’t know he needed an answer to until she asked, but infuriatingly (and also unsurprisingly), Shane just winks before he settles back in his beanbag and polishes off his cider.

During the third round, Ryan runs out of luck.

Maybe it’s because the beer is starting to sit heavily in his head and stomach, but it takes a few moments after the bottle comes to a stop for him to realize that it’s pointing at Shane. When he glances over, his head feels like it’s full of furiously buzzing bees, so loud that he can’t focus on anything that isn’t Shane. Their arms are pressed together, and their pinkies are so close to brushing that the thought makes Ryan’s throat dry.

Before he can figure out how to proceed, Shane’s other hand performs some quick series of movements that ends with his can upturned and the remnants of his cider soaking into the front of his pants.

“Damn it!” he says, jumping to his feet. “I actually liked these pants.”

“And I think that’s the end of spin the bottle,” Zack comments as Shane brushes past him and exits the room. “Let’s take a break before truth and dare. Have another drink. I’m gonna go find another beanbag.”

For a moment, Ryan thinks about going after Shane to make sure that he’s okay, but in the end, he decides against it. After all, there’s no telling what part of the building Shane’s going to, if he’s going to steal some pants from the wardrobe room or one of their coworkers, and it was just a spilled drink; lord knows that they’ve both done more embarrassing things on camera.

He takes a quick break to hit up the bathroom and grab a snack from the nearest canteen, and when he comes back, he plucks another beer from the still overloaded table. He sinks back down beside Sara, who simply stares at him, eyes twinkling over the rim of her glass of wine. After a moment of trying to interpret the look in her eyes and failing miserably, he simply sighs.

“What?”

“Nothing,” she answers, eyes still twinkling. “Shane’s normally not that clumsy, is he?”

“Maybe he’s tired,” Ryan says, and even though he’s not defending himself, it still sounds like a weak excuse even to his own ears.

“Maybe,” Sara says demurely, moving her drink closer to her mouth. Ryan can still see her smiling through the glass, but before he can comment on it, Shane comes back in, wearing a maroon pair of pants that, Ryan is displeased to note, hit him in all the right spots and make his already endless legs look even longer.

“Damn it,” he mutters into his beer as Shane grabs another can, this one light pink, from the table. Sara giggles and pats his arm consolingly, and even if Shane wasn’t about to sink down beside him, Ryan wouldn’t bother to try and convince her that there’s nothing worth consoling him over. He knows that she knows.

He just hopes that nobody else knows.

“Did I miss anything?” Shane asks, plopping down into the new, clean beanbag and popping open his can of spiked cream soda.

Ryan shakes his head, does his utmost best not to stare at how the pants are clinging to Shane’s thighs, and takes another sip.

“Nah. Didn’t miss a thing.”

Round 2: Truth or Dare

Because so much of the afternoon has already dragged by, Zack unilaterally decides that they’ll each only take two turns for truth or dare before they move on to the pièce de résistance of the afternoon.

Before they can actually launch into the game, Kate chimes in with, “When we played this in high school, we had a rule that if you really didn’t feel comfortable answering a truth or doing a dare, you could finish your drink instead.”

Ryan thinks that sounds like a potentially dangerous idea that could also lead to some great material, so when Zack asks them all if they’re okay with it, he nods, after which the game begins with Zack asking Jen what she picks.

They make it to the second round before someone bows out; when Steven picks truth and Jen asks him to tell the story of how he kissed Andrew for the first time, Steven shakes his head and downs the rest of his drink, cheeks pink.

“None of you would ever let me hear the end of it,” he says, licking his lips and laughing before he turns to Andrew, who also picks truth.

When it’s Ryan’s turn, he picks dare, and Sara makes him record a video of him saying, with an utterly straight face, ghosts aren’t real, after which he has to post it to both Snapchat and Instagram. Once that’s done, he pockets his phone and turns to Shane, whose eyes are looking a little bit glassy.

Which Ryan can’t blame him for, because he’s pretty sure if he stood up, the room would have a distinct sway to it.

“Alright, big guy,” he says. “Your turn.” Shane hems and haws for a few moments before he shrugs.

“Gimme a dare. The best one you can think of. Let’s end this with a bang.”

Just like that, it seems like every original idea Ryan’s ever had vanishes from his mind. Technically, he supposes that he could pay it forward from Sara, could make Shane post something about how ghosts are totally real and he’s just been pretending to be a skeptic this entire time, but that seems cheap.

After a moment, an idea does come to mind. It’s incredibly stupid, and just thinking it makes him feel like he’s fourteen again, but it’s the only thing he can think of.

Besides, a part of him, a part that he probably wouldn’t listen to if it wasn’t for the alcohol floating through his system, is curious.

“Alright,” he says, hoping with everything he has that the nervous energy flooding his veins isn’t obvious on camera. “Here’s an oldie but a goodie. Kiss the person in the room you find most attractive.”

There’s almost zero hesitation on Shane’s part before he picks up his latest drink, some kind of fruity vodka concoction, and slams it back, throat bobbing as he swallows. When he’s eventually done, he drops the can to the floor, a trickle of liquid leaking from the corner of his mouth.

“Look, I can’t pick,” he says to a chorus of well-natured boos. “It’s not my fault you’re all so beautiful.”

Ryan joins the chorus of boos, but his stomach has dropped somewhere below the floor, and the buzzing bees have returned to his head. His curiosity, rather than being sated, has only gotten worse, and they still aren’t done filming.

The next time Zack asks him to participate in a video, Ryan’s going to straight up throw something at him.

“Convenient timing,” Zack says, pulling his headphones off and yanking his phone out of his pocket. “Pizza’s here! We’ll be right back.” After setting all their equipment down, him and Annie head out, and Ryan immediately gets to his feet with excuse about needing some fresh air. It’s not actually a lie; his head is swimming, and his legs are definitely not as sure underneath him as they should be, so he heads down the hallway to the nearest exit. It opens out into an alleyway that leads to the loading dock, and he props the door open with a rock before he slumps back against the stuccoed wall and takes a deep breath.

This is ridiculous. He’s been crushing on Shane for years, he suspects, on some level or another, and he’s been wholly aware of his crush for months now. He’s spent nearly every single day of those months in close proximity with Shane, and even at the worst of times, it never felt thisoverwhelming to be near him. He’s never felt like his head was going to actually implode.

Maybe it’s just because Shane is acting so bizarre. He’s always been honest, has never shied away from doing or saying things that Ryan wouldn’t, but he’s acting cagey now, like he’s dancing around something.

He takes a few more minutes to try and ground himself before he heads back inside. The pizza is stacked in the middle of the circle, and Ryan grabs yet another drink and a slice before he settles back. Shane is in the middle of trying to woo Jen into being a guest on a new episode of Ruining History, but once she gets distracted by an incoming text, he turns back to Ryan and claps one huge hand on Ryan’s knee.

Ryan feels like he’s been branded.

“You alright, buddy?” His hand lingers on Ryan’s knee a beat too long, and Ryan is caught between pressing up into the touch or yanking away.

(He knows which of the two options would be better, considering his goal of not having his stupidly massive crush revealed by day’s end, but that doesn’t mean it’s the option he wants.)

“Fine,” he answers, biting into his pizza. “Just been a long day, y’know.”

“Yeah.” Shane’s hand finally slides away from his knee and drops back into his own lap. “Almost done though.”

The end may be in sight, but so far as Ryan is concerned, it still can’t come soon enough.

Round 3: Seven Minutes In Heaven

By the time the pizza is cleared away, it’s clear that, even with the introduction of food, the energy in the room is flagging. The circle has dissolved into something more resembling a loose blob, and people are absently sipping at their drinks, like it’s more a habit than an actual thing they want to do.

“So, Andrew,” Zack starts once they’re officially filming again, “do you guys wanna go first?”

At some point while Ryan was outside grabbing some air, Andrew relocated himself to the corner of the room. Steven is stretched out on the floor beside him, head pillowed in Andrew’s lap, fast asleep. Andrew is absently running his fingers through Steven’s hair, and without pausing his movements, he looks from Zack to Steven and back again, and answers, utterly stone-faced, “No.”

It’s not a tone that leaves much room for debate and, wisely, Zack doesn’t try. He simply nods before he turn to face the rest of them and asks, “Any volunteers?”

Ryan knows that they’re going to have to do it eventually and, frankly, the sooner they can get this over with, the better. Besides, while he knows that whatever closet they’re going to be stuck in is wired for sound and camera, part of him wants to see if Shane will remain so damn cagey when they’re stuck in a tiny space, when he can’t come up with some way to get out of it.

(He just hopes that his own imagination doesn’t run away with him when he gets in there.)

“Alright, c’mon big guy,” he says, wrapping his fingers in the sleeve of Shane’s shirt and hauling him up. Ryan wobbles on his own feet for a few moments and has to give his head a firm shake in order to catch his bearings. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

The closet is right across the hallway and, thankfully, isn’t horribly small; it’s packed full of cleaning supplies and lined with shelves, but there’s still enough room that they don’t have to be standing toe to toe. Once they’re both inside, leaning back against opposite shelves, Zack flashes them a thumbs up and reaches up for the light cord hanging from the ceiling.

“See you in seven minutes!”

With that, the room plunges into darkness and Zack pulls the door shut. Moments later, there’s a faint but audible click as the door is locked from the outside, followed by footsteps that rapidly fade away.

While the closet is more sizable than Ryan expected, it still doesn’t feel like there’s enough oxygen in the room. His head is pounding, and his fingers itch with the urge to do something, to reach out and touch Shane in some way.

He suddenly has a very bad feeling that the impulsive part of his brain is about to betray the logical part, and like a car crash, there’s nothing he can do about it but watch.

“So this is kinda cozy-”

“Why didn’t you kiss me today?”

Sure enough, there’s the betrayal.

He can’t see Shane, but he can feel the room’s atmosphere change, can tell that Shane has gone completely and utterly still. If it weren’t for the lock on the door, Ryan would simply say fuck it, bolt out of the building, use up some vacation days and try to forget that this ever happened.

Eventually, just when he’s thinking about maybe changing the topic, playing oblivious to the fact he said anything at all, Shane clears his throat.

“What are you talking about?” There’s a creak, and the darkness in front of Ryan changes as Shane steps away from the shelves, moves closer to Ryan.

Ryan swallows.

“Uh,” he begins, trying to find the words. The air feels even thicker now, like he might suffocate on it if he isn’t careful. “When we were playing spin the bottle. You spilled your drink instead of kissing me. And I don’t think it was an accident. And then-”

“It wasn’t,” Shane interrupts quietly, and the rest of Ryan’s spiel, about what happened during truth or dare, dies so quickly in his throat that he nearly chokes on it.

“It wasn’t?” he repeats, wishing like hell that he could see Shane’s face, that he could get some indication that could help him determine whether the slow warmth spreading through his stomach is wholly premature.

“No.” One of Shane’s hands brushes along the outside of Ryan’s arm before it settles on the shelf beside him, close enough that Ryan can feel the fabric of Shane’s shirt grazing his bare arm. “I…” He pauses just long enough to sigh before he continues. “Look, if I’m gonna kiss you, I don’t want it to be because of some stupid video. I want it to be because you want it too.”

The warmth spreading through Ryan’s stomach abruptly surges up into his head.

“Oh.” A sudden bolt of bravery hits him, and he tentatively reaches out until his fingers skim along the slight curve of Shane’s waist. He settles his hand firmly there before he continues, “I want it. I really, really do.” On an abstract level, he’s aware of the exact circumstances that pushed them into the room, aware that their every movement and word is being recorded, but that’s not important. What’s important is that Shane is stepping even closer to him, that one of his hands is running up Ryan’s bicep before it comes to rest on the side of his neck.

“You’re sure?” Shane leans in, and their noses awkwardly bash together before his forehead drops against Ryan’s. “This isn’t just-”

While Ryan isn’t a psychic, can’t say definitively that Shane’s next words are going to be something about the video, he can’t bear the thought of Shane thinking he’s a liar so, while it’s rude to interrupt, he cranes up on his toes and follows Shane’s warm breath until their mouths brush together. The rest of Shane’s words stutter to a stop, and he breathes a quiet sigh against Ryan’s lips, a tiny bitten-off oh that Ryan wants to memorialize in every possible way.

While Ryan has imagined their first kiss an embarrassing amount of times, he never pictured anything quite like this: in a darkened supply closet at work, their friends only a few feet away, a shelf digging hard into the base of his back and a little too much alcohol soaking into his brain.

But hey, he’ll take it.

Eventually, Shane pulls back a little and takes a deep breath. His hands have somehow both landed on Ryan’s chest, are fisted in the fabric of his shirt tight enough that it’s ridden up, and he bumps his nose against Ryan’s.

“Wanna do that again?” he asks, and while Ryan can’t see it, he can sure hear the grin in Shane’s voice.

“Fuck yeah,” Ryan answers, a little surprised at how out of breath he feels. “C’mere.”

The next kiss is firmer, lasts longer. The one after that is the first with tongue. The one after that is the first where Ryan gently sinks his teeth into Shane’s bottom lip and tugs.

And whether that’s the true catalyst, after that, he loses track of individual kisses.

It feels like a levee has broken, like everything he’s forced himself to hold back over the last few months is pouring out in one fell swoop. He wants to touch Shane everywhere he can, wants to know every last inch of him. His hands flit up the swoop of Shane’s neck, along the line of his shoulders, down over his chest. Occasionally, they tangle together with Shane’s, and Ryan almost wants to pause for a few moments, just to fit their fingers properly together, to see how it feels.

But he suspects that he would have to stop kissing Shane in order to truly appreciate that, and he’s damn well not ready to pull away yet.

Eventually, the shelf digging into his lower back becomes too painful to ignore. He doesn’t want Shane to have to experience the same thing so, as he steps forward, he uses his grip on Shane’s waist to turn him so that Shane’s back ends up pressed against the door of the closet. Shane hooks his fingers into Ryan’s belt loops and pulls him back in before Ryan can so much as take a step towards him.

The next time he has to pull away to breathe, he busies himself by pressing a series of quick kisses along the jut of Shane’s jaw, relishes in the groans that Shane gives him in response. He’s just moved down to Shane’s neck when he hears footsteps on the other side of the door.

By the time the significance of those footsteps sinks into his brain, it’s too late.

The door clicks open, and Shane goes stumbling backwards out into the entirely too bright hallway. He doesn’t let go of Ryan’s belt loops, and Ryan goes crashing into his chest, which leads to the two of them falling to the floor. The breath rushes from Shane’s chest with an oomph as Ryan lands on top of him. His teeth sink into his own tongue, and he curses as he turns his head and looks up at where Zack is staring down at them with a grin so obnoxiously bright that Ryan thinks it could illuminate a room.

“So,” he says. “How was your seven minutes?”

“If you put literally any of that footage,” Ryan starts, jerking his head back towards the closet, “in the video, I’m going to kill you.”

“Fine.” Zack shrugs so casually that Ryan knows there’s something he’s missing, but he’s a little too drunk (both from alcohol and from kissing Shane) to figure it out. “You guys can head out, if you want.” With that, he walks back across the hallway, and Ryan catches him saying, “Sara and Jen, you’re up!”

“Jesus, you’re heavy,” Shane mutters from underneath him, which spurs Ryan to his feet.

“Whatever, shut up,” he says, reaching out a hand to haul Shane to his feet.

“Hey, it’s not that I’m opposed to you being on top of me,” Shane continues, raising his hands defensively. The collar of his shirt is crooked, and his hair is an absolute mess, tugged into unruly spikes. “Just might be better if it’s on a bed. That’s all.”

The warmth that abruptly left him when they spilled out of the closet starts building in Ryan’s stomach again.

“Yeah? Your bed or mine?”

Shane grins at him.

“Surprise me.”

When the video premieres two weeks later, Ryan discovers that, by pure technicality, Zack did keep his promise; none of the footage of them making out inside the closet has made it into the final product.

The part of them falling out of the closet, on the other hand, has.

Normally, he’d leap up from his chair and hunt Zack down, but Shane’s foot is pressed against his calf underneath the desk, and that single point of contact is enough to keep him in his chair, keeps him from doing nothing more but muttering about how he’s going to get revenge.

“Don’t worry,” Shane responds, casually dragging his foot down to Ryan’s ankle and back up. “I already have some ideas.”

(And if Ryan wasn’t totally gone on the guy before?

Well, after that comment, there’s absolutely no turning back.)

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Sentimental Reasons

I had originally started writing this to celebrate reaching 400 followers, but now I'm almost at 500, so thank you. To be honest, I wasn't really sure where I was going with this except to write a fluff fic, keeping the song For Sentimental Reasons in mind for the mood.

I'd love to thank @porkchop-ao3 @hoodoo12 @xerxezra and to my new fan @ravenousscorpian for the wonderful support, as well as others who have supported me till now. For my Fluffy Adventures series, I'd say this is going to be # 54. I never thought I'd write that many for a series, but I have and I'm so glad, cause along the way I've become a better writer, and have found my voice. So, I hope you'll all enjoy it. This is the first part out of two.

In this fic, the reader and Doofus Rick go over a few important things.

____________________

Chapter 1: That Thing You Do

Through the window, came the sweet, tangy scent of the rain. The rain plays a little song on the roof; the steady fall of droplets, the sounds of cooking, and the classical tempo of the Czech orchestra playing on the public radio station put you in a state of ease. Sometimes, you did enjoy staring out of the window too, as though you were in a sad music video, but today it wasn't as much fun as you thought it would be. However, listening to the Zeta-7s story about killer fruit was.

Apparently, he had heard of a planet where everything was made of fruit, but during his exploration, he had come across a den of the wild honeybells; resulting in a chase, and ending in a river of juice. It pained him that it came to that, though he hadn't been the one to do it, eye patch Morty and his Rick did; whoever those two happened to be. Sometimes, when it came to his stories, you just nodded, and listened instead of bombarding him with questions like who or what; it left more room for him to talk, without messing with the flow of the story.

Because of the scattered rain showers this afternoon, you two decided to have a night in. Of course, you helped him with dinner, although he insisted you didn't have to. “Gosh, it's okay, I-I-I got it. Why don't y-you check out to see if - if there's going to be a-a movie on?”

“Not a chance. If I go, then not only can I not appreciate the view,” In which you proceed to look him up and down, and giggle. “but I'll miss that little thing you do when you're thinking?”

With raised brow, he turned to face you. “What do - do you mean?”

“Oh, you know,” And when you found that he didn't seem to understand, scratching the back of his neck, and chewing away at his bottom lip, you softened. “that cute little lip bite thing you do. Like right now, you're doing it, probably overthinking, wondering how I can find something so little completely delightful. Well, I'll tell you, even if it happened you weren't wondering. You, my dear honey man, are adorable, from the top of your head to the bottom of your toes. Understand?”

“I ugh,” he blushed, finding his shoes suddenly interesting. “if y-you think so.”

“Come on, don't be like that. I mean it, I really do.”

“It's - it's not th-that. I-I guess, what I-I-I thought was…well, is that okay?”

“Rick, that's better then okay. It's fantastic. You are what I want, as you are, just like this. If you don't believe it now, then I guess I'll have to keep reminding you.”

And giving his butt a playful tap, you returned to your activity of setting the table, watching as he nearly burns dinner, and mumbles to himself.

_______________

After dinner, you'd say there was a shift in the mood, which started with a lovely custard fruit tart that the two of you shared; him watching your reactions to the dessert, and stating his thoughts on those reactions in his matter of fact way. “It - are y-y-you happy with it? I hope you are, you seem t-to like it.”

“It's beautiful, and the flavor….am I detecting a hint of saffron?”

“Y-yes,” He brightened. “I-I thought I'd try something different. Saffron really adds a-a decisive flavour and a vibrant yellow colour t-to this vegan eggless custard. Oh, I'm so glad you like it.”

“Like it? I love it! Rick, have I ever told you that I think guys who can cook are sexy?”

Scratching the back of his neck, he chuckled. “Y-you have, though you were sick at - at the time. So, I-I assumed you were just joking.”

“Oh, I was serious. And what do you think that means for your Mr. Sánchez?”

Dropping his fork, Zeta-7 didn't answer, nor did he hurry to pick it up. He studied you, probably wondering if you were serious or kidding, but you smiled back, and held on to his hand as you went back to eating. Seeing that you really did enjoy the dessert, his smiling eyes said what he needed to say, before he continued on. “I-I also used a blend of - of rice milk and coconut milk to give it a-a-a light richness, while the vanilla bean and orange blossom water add flavour, freshness and more wonderful aroma.”

“That's fascinating.” You sighed, caressing the back of his hand, feeling the tension melt away as he went on with his detailed explanation. Whatever thoughts which made him doubt, whatever feelings that caused him to fear, you hoped it would soon pass away. You wanted him to be confident, to feel assured that his feelings weren't in vain, that his efforts were appreciated. And he was so adept at what he did, and you were appreciative, hopefully he could see that too.

Poetic in his choice of words, he painted a picture of the process involved, generous in his descriptions of the fruits and spices, how it all came together, and the chemical changes which took place; in itself, it felt more like was a type of culinary science. So you asked. “Is food science a thing? Cause, if it is, I think you'd be great at it.”

“Well, yes it - it is. Food science is the study of the physical, biological, a-and chemical makeup of food, and the concepts underlying food processing. In fact, my ovenless brownies w-would be categorized under that field of study. You - you really a-are catching on, and I'm impressed.”

“You...you are?”

“Y-yeah, I am. I-I always knew you were a-a smart girl, but a woman with a beautiful mind is lovely. Mi corazón,” He softened. “you - you really are just full of w-wonderful surprises.”

A smile couldn't help but find its way on your face, and with a joyful heart, you gladly listened to the rest of his explanation. You were glad he substituted the ingredients that you didn't care for, and were more than pleasantly surprised when he handed you the recipe card; confident that you could do it, because you were capable and he believed in you. Sometimes, you didn't understand why he was so different, why Zeta-7 listened to you, and cared about your thoughts and opinions. He didn't think you were silly or odd. He made you feel special and beautiful. And you had a visceral response to him; you always had, and he provoked you, encouraging you to better yourself.

Why? Because…. maybe you wanted to be able to reach him. You were many things, sweet, cheeky, clumsy, and sometimes brave, but were these things enough? You could only wonder, as you took your time, savoring every bite. And you weren't sure what had gotten into him, but in his eagerness to please you, he attempted to flirt a little, going as far as using a pick up line; one he probably got from a self help book, though it ended in disaster, with him apologizing for his attempt. Honestly, just seeing him try made you smile, and when he returned to using the usual, sincere compliments, he got the desired results, leaving you a little flustered, and him a little proud; must be the Rick in him.

Later, it segued into tea and light-hearted conversation. Tonight, there was no mention of unpleasant experiences or of people who brought you two down, but grown folk talk; of life, love, and the future. Now, in itself the future was uncertain, you with your family history of illness and him with his close calls with death, and the consequences of him being a Rick, but for the most part, a lot of what he talked about was hypothetical. Still, a hypothesis remained a mere assumption until proven true or false. Oh, you hoped the lovely parts would prove true.

Zeta-7 was such a wonderful man, and he'd been so good to you, and if you were honest with yourself, you could see yourself growing old with him and no one else, but again that was the thing; the future is uncertain, and how much of it could you have with a man over twice your age? Forever the optimist, Rick focused on the good, and mentioned randomly that he'd love to have kids someday, which made you blush even deeper, amongst other things like you possibly living with him. Was he trying to tell you something? You tried not to take any of it out of context, after all he could do so much better than you; and well, you didn't want to get your hopes up.

After all, you were just a girl from a town of no consequence, and he was a little of everything.

TBC

[dyketectivecomics]

So...what ARE you feelings on bruce being a Pisces? Let alone that Cass is an Aquarius, Dick is an Aries, Jason's a Leo and Tim's a cancer?

I slowly shut my laptop and set it aside on my bed, staring ahead at nothing in particular as I reminisce on a favorite Pisces in my life. My best friend since childhood, a girl who i’ve known for well over a decade, more than half of my life really, who happens to share the exact same birthday as Fictional Character Bruce Wayne. A Pisces-cusp.

I think on the similarities I see between them, the qualities of her character that only I and a few others would know, and try to think on how others have perceived her before joining our friend group over the years. I admire her empathy, her passion for music and video games, her willingness to put all of her friends above herself. 

And then i remember how she drunk-texted our group chat last night just to tell us she loved us & that she couldn’t wait to hit up a gay bar with us when we’re all back in town.

And I cackle. Because if no one else does, I do see these qualities in Bruce Wayne’s character. Just a hair below all the so-called brooding and angst. Bruce is a water sign who’s a little emotionally stunted in that he tries to hide his feelings, but he feels oh-so-very much. He’s a Pisces trying to emulate a Scorpio and falling just short (bc lets be real, he’s got too many kids that he definitely dotes on) but yknow… it’s something that when he’s done correctly by writers, they somehow manage to fit those qualities in without even realizing, I think. Sure, he’s not a kid that I grew up with and there’s plenty of differences because my friend is, yknow, an actual person who’s more than a couple of personality traits. But damn if I don’t see similarities….

Now, as for the rest of the kids & others that I relate them to… (under the cut, tagging as “long post” for mobile users just incase tumblr wants to be a butt again) Also a warning bc some of this will sound like I’m ripping from astrology sites but honestly just narrowed things down from my own personal experience with these signs. Take all of this observation & comparison with a grain of salt, if you wish.

Cass is an aquarius, like myself. And I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t see more than a few similarities in what few scattered stories I’ve been able to read so far (or even that I might be prone to reading a bit too much into some of it bc hey, I have a fav now & I want to see myself in her, sue me). One of these days I’m probably going to sit down and really dive in, but for now, I gather what I can, listen to the meta that others have, and ofc, try to form my own opinion. 

That being said, an eccentric-ass Aquarius is really the only choice to take over the mantle from a sensitive-ass Pisces, and everyone can fite me on this. Aquarians & Pisces, my friend and I, Bruce and Cass- all on a similar wavelength, esp when they’re encouraging each other and learning to grow from one another.

Cass is an air sign that most people only see as being grounded because of the discipline David Cain instilled in her from childhood. She’s funny, wise beyond her years, and intensely dedicated to the mission at hand bc of what it means to help others as a whole. And this is fault that I see in myself and in her: she’s got plenty of empathy for those she might already be close to, and absolutely cares about humanity in a greater sense, but caring for individuals without getting to know them can be uncomfortable. She’s driven, but can be blindsided by that dedication and burn herself out easily if others don’t intervene. Also, an introverted extrovert, one who’s absolutely ready to meet with others and collaborate/team-up, but can get a little lost in her own head from time-to-time.

…

Now, Dick the Aries. My other best friend since childhood also shares this sign with my First Favorite Robin. And I do see more than a number of parallels between the two of them. My aries friend has a penchant for taking over projects and setting themselves in charge of the operation. But they also have the charm and ingenuity to make themselves to seem the perfect and best fit for that leadership position. They’re rebellious, a little brash in decision-making, but they’ve also mellowed out over the years in many small ways. Still on fire about what they’re most passionate about in life, and more than willing to achieve it by any means necessary, damn anyone who thinks that they won’t.

There’s a popular consensus in fanon to make dick a kind of hufflepuff who’s just there for his friends & loves hugs and is lovey all around- but Dick is driven. He cares for his friends fiercely and will help them absolutely, but he’s ready to avenge them too. He’ll punch you in the face, pirouette with the utmost amount of sass, and then make you feel bad for making him do it in the first place. He’s got that bit of deviousness that will make you second guess his intentions. But if you’re already part of his inner circle, you have nothing to fear from him. And that’s where his lovey side then has room to come out.

…

Moving on to Jason the leo, and I know you didn’t ask, but Im adding Stephanie to this discussion as well since she’s a leo too. A few leos that I’ve gotten to know over the years can be summed up very lovingly as this: attention whores. (again. very lovingly. i love each and every one of those bitches so damn much, this is something they’ve each used to describe themselves lmao)

Leo is the King of the Zodiac, commanding attention in the room whenever they walk in. They’ve got plenty to say, of course, and they’re excellent diplomats/socialites in many ways. Often best suited for a leadership position. They know how to read the conversation and the room and turn it best into their favor. They will dazzle you with their wit and charm, but also in their knowledge of the subject at hand. If they have an Opinion, they’ll absolutely let you know what it is, and they’re not afraid to hold back on what they perceive to be a truth. Some will have a bit more tact than others, but they’re a fire sign, after all. 

Did this just describe Jason & Steph? well maybe not to some, but I definitely see their drive to complete their own missions & joining up Bruce’s crusade as Leo qualities. Steph and Jay are willing to do what it takes and butt heads with whoever they must if it means doing what they see is right. They’re absolutely social people too (maybe Steph a bit more than Jay will be), and you can’t deny they’ve both got a certain kind of charm over the rest of the family.

…

Tim the cancer sign… this is… difficult actually. One of the few signs that I don’t recall having significant interaction with. (& honestly the character & Robin that I have the least personal interest in. I do want to like him but I just…??? Havent rlly found the time to put into reading up on him more)

But just going off the water sign aspect, and knowing water signs in my life… Emotions & emotional intelligence are obviously going to be at the forefront. From what I’ve gathered on Tim, he’s very well-rounded in all areas of his life, and driven to succeed at whatever he’s set his mind to. I can absolutely respect the strength his character has commanded over the years, and his popularity is absolutely earned, I think. Writers have worked hard to make sure he’s distinct from Dick & Jason before him in many ways, and I’ll have to look deeper into his character & listen to more meta on him before I’ll be comfortable to speak further on that.

…

To round out this discussion, I want to bring Barbara into the mix, because she’s had a fixed birthday for awhile now. And tbh she’s just as much part of the family as the rest I think (yes, I know some people get Babs fatigue bc she’s the first batgirl & gets the other girls lost in the shuffle but hey! I’ve loved her for awhile now!) She is *drum roll* a Libra!

Now, this ones a bit tricky, bc the most important Libra in my life is my mom. Buuuut, she and Babs are both cusps… on opposite ends of this zodiac sign. I admire my mother for her resolve, inventiveness, work ethic, and stability. I also loathe her tendency to micromanage projects, become overly involved in the work of others (to the point where she WILL find out whats going wrong) and how she tends to overwork herself (just this past spring has been really really difficult. I’m surprised she hasn’t worked herself into the grave with the amount of stress she puts on herself)

Now some of these qualities, I absolutely see in Babs. But I also see a bit more awareness in her character, esp when she’s grown up into her Oracle persona. She seems able to recognize what she’s doing and how she’s affecting others, and will sometimes use that to her advantage. She’s a character who’s grown into the adversity she faces & doesnt let it change her resolve for completing the mission, even if it needs to be from a new (& probably better) angle. She adapts well to change, or forces the change to adapt to her. She is a force to be reckoned with and admired.

…

All of this to say… at the end of the day, the stars are still just balls of gas and light that sit some billion light-years away from us. Do they really control our personalities? I mean, probably not. But there’s enough similarities in those traits to make you wonder… and it’s honestly just a Good Fun Time regardless. 

[dsudis]

writing meme

I was tagged by @silentwalrus1 approximately one internet lifetime ago.

+Where do you publish your work?

AO3 and also my own website (dira.ficlaundering.com) though I am beginning to think that... you know. Personal fic author archive-websites are a thing of the past and it’s not like I don’t keep local copies of everything in case the AO3 should up and disappear somehow, and also it looks... reasonably likely that the AO3 will not up and disappear anytime soon, so... maybe I will let the website go? idk. 

+What medium/application/etc. you use? 

Good old Microsoft Word, since I was dragged kicking and screaming to it from WordPerfect ten years ago. I trust The Cloud even less than I trust the AO3 to go on existing and also I do not actually want to share my actual working files in real time with absolutely anyone ever.

+Do you collaborate with others?

Nnnno. I am not good at relinquishing control over the story to anyone else--I mean, I will take someone else’s story and write fanfiction of it all day long, obviously, but sharing the actual story-making with someone else, no.

OTOH I love betas, and I more or less have to workshop an idea in chat--telling out the whole arc and sometimes individual scenes--before I can write it. Like, if you want to know what I’m going to write next the trick is to be in a chat room with me and ask a leading question and then make encouraging noises occasionally because BOY HOWDY DO I WANT TO TELL YOU AND HEAR WHETHER YOU THINK THAT WORKS.

+How much editing do you do before you publish?

It varies, depending on the story, how long it is, how many fucks I give about it by the time I’m done with it, etc. But I definitely like to have it betaed and go over the final story for proofreading type stuff. There have been stories I wrote that in the beta process wound up getting fairly massive rewrites--the middle story in the “Just Stay Alive” trilogy, “Seek Out the Hidden Places” is the one that springs to mind right now; I wrote that story, sent it to beta, and then realized that I had basically left out a huge amount of what the story should really be about, and rewrote a lot to make that work.

+Do you listen to music while you write?

I listen to music almost constantly--silence is slightly unnerving and makes every little other sound much more distracting, plus I have a bit of tinnitus so once I start noticing that I have to drown it out. (Thanks, ADHD, on probably both counts.) So, yes, I listen to music while I write, but it’s very very rare that I have any special playlist or anything relevant to the story itself--sometimes I’ll have some kind of RAR GET THE WORK DONE playlist for generally motivating myself to stay awake and on task, but that’s about it.

+How do you decide what to write about?

See above, re: workshopping ideas. I am a pretty much perpetual-motion idea generator, but I also have been doing this long enough to have some sense of how much of a hassle a story is going to be to write (in terms of how long it will be, how much thinking and planning and research it might require, how much shame I will feel about posting it, etc.) and how much I will love creating and posting it (how much of a target audience it has, how personally enchanting I find the idea) and kind of keep those things in proportion. One of the ways I gauge that is by, as I said above, basically workshopping the idea with friends and in chat--there are lots of ideas that I’ve talked out to the point where I can recognize that if I write it I’m committing to 200k, and back-burnered it until I forgot about it completely. 

(I rarely actually utterly fail to sell an idea to anyone, but there are definitely times when other people’s reactions make me reconsider how a story would need to work to survive outside my head. So that is also a factor.)

...Also once it gets past the idea stage and into the stable of WIPs, random number generators help a lot.

+When do you write?

Well, not damn much for the last week or so, and before that writing was my dayjob so I scheduled periods of fic-writing in between periods of original-romance-writing to break things up and avoid feeling too all-work-and-no-play about writing. Before that, I tended to sneak in writing at work and also write in the evenings, especially while chatting with my alpha/beta readers. So... could be pretty much anytime I’m in front of a computer, which is... most of my waking hours, most of the time.

+How often do you write?

Once again: not damn much lately because things have been a bit. wild. But prior to The Upheaval, pretty much five or six days a week (I would do five-ish days a week Going To Work to write, plus a semi-regular evening meetup one night on the weekend to sit in a coffeeshop and write with other writers). 

I always always wanted to be a professional writer, so I was reading writing-advice books of the variety written by working SF/Fantasy writers when I was 10 or 11 and internalized all their advice, which certainly included the “if you want to write, write every day” chestnut, and so I knew that and could have repeated it with great assurance of its validity anytime since I was in middle school, but it was only maybe five or six years ago that I actually seriously connected that to my own writing practice, particularly in the sense of--whether you feel inspired or not, whether you want to or not, get some words out as regularly as you can.

+Do you take requests?

Only after we reach friendship level 7. Or if I have specifically opened myself up for requests for some very specific reason like a charity auction or something, and even then I will reserve the right to be really wary of your requests.

+Is there a genre or type of story you want to write but are hesitant to?

I avoid writing historically-set stuff because I know Just Enough to know how much research I would want to do to Get Things Right and that is a rabbit hole I don’t need to send myself down when I have so many modern-set ideas where I can just roll with it and put down any goofs to “well it’s like that in the Marvel universe” or “well it’s like that in the universe where werewolves became widely known about fifteen years ago in a lengthy revelation that was traumatic in various ways for basically all werewolves alive at the time, especially the children and teens who had to deal with this happening but had no control over how it affected them.”

For instance.

+Any inspirational quotes, videos, tricks, articles, etc that help you stay motivated?

...Prescription amphetamines mostly? I have the ADHD, so “staying motivated” to do literally anything is a deeply questionable proposition. What works a lot better is to have a pretty reliable schedule where there is a time, or multiple times, in the day when it is Time To Work On The Thing. And if I’m particularly stuck, such that I arrive at Time To Work On The Thing and just go blank, that is usually time to show the most recent bit of the story to someone and talk with them about what I’m doing next, because actually talking about it with another person tends to jump-start my brain into focusing on the thing and working out what’s next and sometimes does in fact stir up enough enthusiasm to get me going without it having to be Time To Make The Donuts.

+Go to page 7 of your WIP, skip to the 7th line, and share 7 sentences:

I have lots of things in progress but only one that is more than 7 pages long where the seventh page isn’t in a chapter already posted, which I have also worked on this month, SO. From the Ace!Bitty epic, slightly more than seven very long and winding sentences:

“I thought he was asking because it was how he felt, and I was trying to be a... good teammate, a friend--I was older, I was trying to look out for him. So I kept saying, oh, that doesn't seem so weird, and I think everyone feels like that sometimes..." 

Bitty laughed, and Jack grinned and pressed on, watching Bitty's face to see if he was properly lightening the mood.  

"He wound up taking me to the ace spectrum group on campus--oh, hey, Bits, there's a group for this, when you get back to campus, I know I still see their flyers around all the time, because it reminds me of that time. They're really friendly, they didn't even get mad at me and Shitty for showing up and being idiots at each other and everyone else."  

Jack paused, considering what would be an added selling point for anyone else, and added cautiously, "I think the cake at the meetings is from the grocery store, though." 

"From the--!" Bitty looked horrified. "But--what if there are little frogs just figuring this out, and they--"  

Jack did not point out that, in this department, Bitty himself was the frog just figuring this out.

Annnnd lazytagging whoever wants to do the meme! Say I tagged you, it’s cool, you’re allowed! :D

[sleepywinchester]

Behind The Story S2 | Pt. 8

Summary: They say things never go as planned and oh were they right. When you are giving a second chance in life, you’re only just begun to live. A baby girl came to the world but it doesn’t mean their road is over yet. The story about their relationship and family while shooting Supernatural and attending Conventions continues…

Author: sleepywinchester [prev. deanwinchester-af]

Characters: Jensen, Reader, Jared and Cast Cameos.

Pairings: Single!Jensen x Actress!Reader (Nina Dobrev)

Words: 2.1k

Beta: @waywardlullabies

Warnings: Fluff. { slightly angst }

Disclaimer: NO HATE TOWARDS DANNEEL!

Title: To The Freakin’ Moon.

Note: Hope you guys like this one!!! Feedback is always appreciated it. (x)

Jensen: “Good trip so far?”  

You: “She only dropped juice all over herself once and cried to the top of her lungs twice. It’s going great and everyone in this plane loves us.”

Jensen: “Ha! I’ll be in the lookout for viral videos of you sending someone to hell if they cross the line. Show em your mean right.”

You: “Funny. I wouldn’t be surprised if someone is a jerk to us.”

Jensen: “I wouldn’t be surprise if you kick their asses.”

You: “You know me so well. She’s sleeping right now.”

Jensen: “Give her a kiss for me. Gotta go.”

After locking your phone, you looked down to the sleeping beauty in your arms. Knowing she rested peacefully in your arms melted your heart. She didn’t have a care in the world. You knew she was feeling cold when her tiny body curled towards you. The corner of your lip curved up watching her seek for warmth in you. Slowly and trying not to wake her up, you grabbed the pink blanket from your bag and covered her up.  

The flight went on for two more hours until you finally landed in Vancouver. Jensen was waiting for you as you walked out of the airport. His smile got wider watching you walk towards him with the stroller.  The sudden flashing lights interrupted the moment.

Jensen’s picked up his pace and reached you and JJ. He gave you a kick kiss on the lips before escorting you towards the car. You re-adjusted your bag and followed him closely towards the car.

“Are you okay after the accident, Y/N?”, “When’s the wedding?”, “Is there a wedding at all?!”, “You gotta put a ring on it, Jensen! She’s too hot!”.

“Hey!” Jensen glared at the men surround you, “Back off!” He snapped at the paparazzi who was reaching and going too far.

You and Jensen glared at the paparazzi was a forty something dude, he laughed and kept taking photos of the three of you. The both of you walked straight to his SUV. Neither of you spoke but it was obvious, neither of you were comfortable.

“I hate this,” you breathed out.

“That last one was an asshole,” Jensen put his seat belt on and glancing at JJ in her car seat.  “At least they didn’t wake her up.”

You turned to glance at JJ, who is sleeping carelessly. The sight of your daughter made the uncomfortable feeling the paparazzi gave you drift away. Sometimes it blew your mind away how such a small human being had so much power over you.

“Yeah,” you smiled turned back to Jensen. “I missed you.”

Jensen flashed a grin and leaned forward, kissing your lips properly and without any rush this time. You haven’t seen him since Sunday morning when he left for work. 

You stayed in Austin till Monday because Gen talked you about some amazing bridal stores. It was a bummer when after spending an entire day looking for a dress, you didn’t had any luck.

“How was your day?” You asked Jensen as he drove down the highway.

He played with your fingers as he drove, his eyes focused on the road.

“It was alright,” he shrugged, “the usual, lots of horsing around and acting.”

You chuckled softly. “Sounds awesome. My last two days were full of changing diapers and looking for my wedding dress and not having any luck.”

“When you put it like that, sounds horrible,” Jensen half smiled.

“Nah,” you cocked your head, glancing at the trees, “I love changing diapers.”

Jensen laughed, making a turn, “Sorry you didn’t have any luck with the dress.” 

You shrugged, looking at him. “Maybe my dress is in LA or NY.”

“When are you going?” Jensen asked.

“I’m thinking when you leave for Rome with Jared,” you said undecided, “instead of going to Austin, I’ll meet with my mom in New York.”

Jensen nodded, “Sounds like a plan. Sucks that you’re not coming to Jus In Bello.”

You let a disappointed groan out, “It does! I love that freaking con but, mother duty calls.”

“Maybe we can take her next year,” Jensen said.

“Maybe,” you smiled. “I’m hungry.”

Jensen glanced at you, “Take out?”

“Yes, please,” you let out.

- - - -

Everyone on set greeted you with smiles, saying how beautiful JJ was and how fast she was growing. Whoever said babies grow up like plants was completely right.  After hair and makeup, Ley,la one of the set assistants, let you know they needed you.  You left JJ with the nanny in your trailer and headed to set.

The scene you were about to shoot was with Jensen and Jared in the bunker. There’s a new demon messing with the boys and, more specifically, messing with Dean’s. You shook your head when you remembered the scene Jensen had to do yesterday. Instead of going the usual way, today you decided to walk around the set and get in from the back, specifically Dean’s room.  When you walked into set, your heart skipped a beat.

“What the hell?” You said out loud without thinking.

Jensen’s eyes were instantly on yours, “Babe!”

In that moment you realized they were still rolling and that you completely messed and barged into the scene.  Jensen and a woman were in bed making out. Jensen was shirtless and the woman was shirtless as well.

Your eyes widened feeling stupid for reacting to a scene like this. “I’m sorry!” You let out. “I completely forgot you guys were filming this first. My bad.” You glanced around.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” the director walked in, “we just needed to re-shoot the kiss because yesterday’s was…” He cleared his throat, “too real?”

You arched an eyebrow, “What do you mean by too real?”

“Shit,” Jared appeared.

Jensen stood up from the bed, he wore shorts and put on a black shirt and the pants he’s supposed to wear now.  The new actress stood up from the bed, wrapping the sheets around her body and walking away.

“Why is she doing the walk of shame in a set?” You blurred out and turned to Jared and the director.

“She’s naked,” the director said, “she said it would look more realistic. She didn’t had a problem with it and neither did we.”

Your jaw dropped after hearing what the director just said. “Excuse me?”

“Hey babe,” Jensen reached your side, this time being completely clothed.

Ignoring Jensen your eyes glanced everywhere, “Can someone explain me why the kiss was too real and why the hell is she naked?”

“She stuck her tongue out,” Jensen said, “it was nothing-”

It wasn’t nothing, it was everything but nothing. You didn’t want to make a scene and act extremely jealous but the thought of that woman being completely naked in a bed with Jensen made your blood boil. You didn’t understand why she stuck her tongue out while kissing Jensen.

Has she acted before? You can’t do that, not even you did it with Jensen and you were engaged. It was a television show, not a freaking porno. Even though you wanted to react and say your mind, you took a deep breath in and shake the thought away.

“We were messing their scene,” Jared spoke.

“I bet,” you faked a smile. “Are we gonna work or what?”

In that moment everyone went back to work and to prepare for your scene with Jared and Jensen. No one said a word but the air was clearly tense, even though everyone tried to ignore it and be like anything was happening.

“Action!” The director shouted.

“Hey, listen,” Jensen spoke to you with his Dean tone, “I don’t know how it got into my head!”

“Well,” you shot your arms to the air, “it clearly seemed like you enjoyed it!”

You swallowed  trying to ease the lump building up in your throat. For the first time in your career, you didn’t had to fake being upset. Jensen knew you weren’t faking it, he saw the cloud of tears building up in your eyes.

“Kat,” Jensen spoke softly, “you’re the only woman I dream about. Her getting into my head was just messing around for this to happen.”

He didn’t say what was written in the script; He improvised his words. A single tear slips down your face. You shouldn’t be showing this much emotion. The script ask you to be extremely mad at Dean. It tells you to storm out of the room without listening to reason but you couldn’t make yourself do it.

Instead of walking out of the library, you stood there, in front of Jensen, barely keeping it together. Jensen reached you and wrapped you in his arms.  

“I love you,” Jensen whispered on your ear.

“Cut!” The director said and walked to the scene.

You wiped away the tears and turned to the director.

“I don’t know what the hell was that about but,” the director sighed, “it was beautiful. We’re keeping that.” He told you and Jensen, “Next scene!”

Jensen turned to you as everyone walked away to prep for the next scene.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen told you. “Everyone was messing around and-,”

“- it’s okay,” you spoke with a weak smile, “I know you love me and I know you’ll never hurt me. It just took me by surprise seeing her naked on top of you…”

“You know it doesn’t mean anything,” Jensen said.

“I know,” you nodded, “and I hate watching you with another woman that close to you. I hate that the writers are adding this slut demon. But,” you sighed glancing away for a moment before locking your eyes with Jensen. “Is the job and I have to suck it up. ”

“How did I end up with such a cool chic?” Jensen placed his arm over your shoulder.

The corners of your lips curved up recognizing the line. “I don’t know,” you shrugged following his lead as the both of you walked. “Guess I have low standards.”

Jensen’s adorable eyes crinkles appeared as he smiled. Suddenly his fingers went down to your waist and started to tickle you. Instantly, you bursted in laughter and began to try escape his hands but it was worthless.

“Stop!” You giggled still trying to get away.

“Tell me how much you love me,” Jensen said through his laugh. When Jensen saw you shake your head and acted hard to get, he kept tickling you. “I won’t stop until you give in!” He shouted, ignoring the people around.

You giggled dropping your head backwards, “I-,” you shut your eyes, “Okay! I give in! You win!”

“How much you love me?” Jensen hold you close by your waist.

You sighed placing a hand on his chest and the other around his neck, “To the freakin’ moon.”

“That’s my girl,” Jensen flashed a grin and kissed you.

- - - -

You were walking out of the trailer with JJ on hands. Jensen was waiting in the parking lot to go home after a long day. Your daughter giggled at the funny face you gave her.

“You guys are so cute,” a woman’s voice suddenly spoke.

Looking up your eyes met with Claudia, the new guest actress. She stared at you and JJ, her small body blocking the way to the parking lot. You took a deep breath, adjusted JJ on your hip before speaking.

“Thanks,” you said, trying your best to stay polite.

“I’m Claudia,” she spoke.

“I know,” you replied, “Y/N.” You added a fake polite smile, “Nice to meet you.”

Claudia smiled back, “My pleasure! I’ve been wanting to meet you for so long and after what happened this morning… I thought it was just right for me to formally introduce myself.”

“Oh,” you shifted the weight of JJ, “is alright, the scene just caught me off guard.”

“Still. I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”

You didn’t believe in her apology. The tone of it didn’t sound genuine, it sounded like she was acting. “If I’m being honest the only thing that made me feel uncomfortable was when Jensen told me you stuck your tongue out while kissing him.” Your tone wasn’t polite anymore.

“Oh,” Claudia’s eyes widen, “I’m sorry about that.”

“Are you really?” You cocked an eyebrow. “Look, I get it, Jensen is super hot. Maybe you found an opportunity and you took it. I know you’re staying and there’s going to be a lot of drama in the show with our characters. Let’s just keep it there, okay? I have a daughter with the man,” You spoke, tilting your head towards JJ, “and we’re getting married. We don’t need drama in our lives.”  After letting her know how you felt, you walked away.

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[morganbelarus]

NXIVM Sex Cult Update: Hear Allison Mack Help Invent Nude Branding Ritual In Audio Recording!! – Perez Hilton

The more we hear about this sex slave cult, the creepier it becomes.

Allison Mack used to be best known as plucky teen reporter Chloe Sullivan on Smallville — now she’ll forever be known for her role in the NXIVM cult.

As a ringleader and “master” she allegedly recruited women to join and be branded as the sex slaves of founder Keith Raniere.

The former TV star

Raniere responds:

“Pain is how much we know how much we love.”

Ew. Ew ew ewwwww!

Most of the conversation is Raniere and Mack pitching ideas for the pomp and circumstance of the branding, how to make it seem like an important ritual.

This is the NXIVM brand, which contains both Keith Raniere’s and Allison Mack’s initials. (c) U.S. Attorney’s Office For The Eastern District

But Raniere’s references to videotaping the session, and positioning the nude women in such a way that the camera angle gets “collateral” on the inductee (for later extortion ammunition) reveals the banality of his evil.

There is no sacred belief here, he’s making it up as he goes along. It sounds like the writer’s room on a bad TV show.

Read more chilling excerpts from the transcript (below):

KR: Uh, I think doing the actual brand in an orderly fashion?

AM: Mm-hm.

KR: Each of the seven strokes having a certain… ritualization. Maybe each of the strokes, um… has something that’s said with them.

AM: Mm-hm.

KR: And maybe repeated after the stroke is done.

AM: So, like… somebody says the thing while the stroke is being done, and then the person that’s getting it done repeats it afterwards?

KR: Oh, I dunno, yeah. You guys come up with something [inaudible].

AM: Okay.

KR: So what would’ve been most meaningful, deep, surrendering, focusing for you?

AM: I think it… probably having it whispered in my ear and then me repeating it out loud?

KR: Uh-huh.

AM: And then having it whispered in my ear and then me repeating it out loud.

KR: Well, ask the others, it’s not all you.

AM: Uh-huh.

KR: [laughs]

AM: Well, I thought you were asking me!

KR: No, I said all of you guys who have gone through.

AM: Yeah. Okay. [laughs]

We can’t help but wonder what the women involved, who bought into this “self help group” would think of their leaders coming up with this stuff on the fly.

KR: The other thing is, you guys did it and you weren’t completely nude because you had an outsider and a guy doing it to whoever. And do you think the person who’s being branded should be completely nude and then sort of held to the table like a… sort of almost like a sacrifice? I dunno if that – that’s a feeling of submission. You know?

AM: Mm-hm.

KR: So… [inaudible]

KR: Uh. You could also, of course, video it. Videoing it from, different angles, or whatever, gives collateral. So it probably should be a more vulnerable position type of a thing. Back, legs spread straight, feet being held to the side of the table, hands probably above the head being held. Almost like tied down, like a sacrificial… whatever. And the person should ask to be branded.

AM: Okay.

KR: They should say, “please, brand me, it would be an honor,” or something like that. “An honor I’d wanna wear for the rest of my life,” I dunno.

AM: Okay.

KR: And they should probably say that before they’re held down so it doesn’t seem like they’re being coerced.

AM: Okay.

KR: I dunno, those are just thoughts.

AM: Okay.

Just making it up. Brainstorming a “sacred ritual.”

This is almost scarier than if there was real conviction there.

You can listen to the audio recording for yourself HERE.

As the court cases continue, it’s unclear just how many “masters” will be prosecuted.

Multiple wealthy women in the U.S. and Mexico, famously including Ana Cristina Fox, daughter of Former Mexican President Vicente Fox, have been implicated by prosecutors in recent months.

At which point does someone involved in a group like this go from being a victim to another perpetrator? It’s not an easy question.

But based on this audio, it’s harder than ever to argue Allison isn’t culpable…

What do YOU think, Perezcious readers??

[Image via CBS News/WENN.]

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Original Article : HERE ; This post was curated & posted using : RealSpecific

NXIVM Sex Cult Update: Hear Allison Mack Help Invent Nude Branding Ritual In Audio Recording!! – Perez Hilton was originally posted by MetNews