#I'm not sure what to tag this as to get cool music people to see it wow.

[symbioticsimplicity]

That ace vibe of "I know this person is incredibly attractive, but they're also saying something interesting could you please stop screaming I want to hear what they're saying."

[neverendingford]

.

[elflutter]

— guard dog

kinktober 01 → dom/sub dynamics

sub!logan x dom mutant fem!reader

synopsis

Nobody would believe how his masculine bravado fell as he let you take control. They didn’t notice how you could dismiss him with a nod of your head, how he would immediately back down from a fight if you told him to drop it. Like a dog with a bone. That’s the thing about Logan. He is protective like a guard dog is  protective. And he is submissive like a guard dog is submissive. Oh, you so enjoy training him.

wordcount: 4k+

tags/warnings below the cut

tags/warnings: explicit (18+ mdni), dom/sub, light pain kink, light praise kink, porn with feelings, hurt/comfort, logan calls reader ma'am, reader wears a dress, pet names (incl. baby, pretty boy, kitty cat), degradation, oral sex (f. recieving), mutual mast., unprotected p i v, fingering, come eating, logan is compared to a guard dog (non-sexually), one (1) mention of collar play, no use of y/n. i'm sure i've forgotten something, please let me know if i have!

a/n: i have no excuse for this omfg. i'm a slut, ok!! and i am allergic to writing smut without including major feels what's up with that

thank you to the lovely @eupheme for looking over this before i posted!

You love seeing Logan like this. On his knees, eyes glazed over, beard drenched in your slick. Fingers tangled in his hair, hard grip pulling his head away from your cunt. You are bare beneath your dress, hiked up to your stomach, but Logan is completely naked. Looking down at him from where you sit on the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide. In complete control as he whines at the loss of his mouth on you, completely drunk on your taste. Candlelight and the Autumn twilight illuminating the planes of his face like liquid gold. Your core throbs where his tongue was just a moment ago. 

You hush him, your free hand cupping his jaw. “You miss my pussy, baby?” Your brows knit together in mock pity at the desperate sound he makes in affirmation. He grinds feebly at the side of your mattress, neglected cock aching for something, anything. Maybe it says something bad about you, that you get off on seeing him so pathetic. But you know he craves this too. 

He was embarrassed about it, at first. Being submissive. Getting hard when you called him your sweet baby, your pretty boy, voice dripping with condescension. But you could tell that he needed to unwind the second he woke up after you dragged him into the X-mansion with Jean and Scott. You could feel it, the emotions pouring from him. 

Your mutation is a difficult thing to control. To turn off. Sometimes, you feel like a creep. A trespasser. Knowing the deepest emotions of a stranger, ones they may not even recognize themselves. You think Jean and Charles are lucky, with powers rooted in thought. They can tease out feelings too, but their power is fundamentally different from yours. Thought is intention. Emotions are energy. 

“You can’t force your retinas to stop sensing photons just because the light bulb does not know you can see it. Even if you close your eyes, my dear, you will still be able to see its light, however dimmed.” Charles’ words from your first day at the mansion help to curb the guilt; when you feel like an intruder. 

You certainly felt like an intruder months ago, when Logan woke up in the lab, lit aflame like a wildfire. Fear and rage, as he shot up from the table. Confusion, as he pulled the IV from his arm. Idiot. You tried to ground yourself in something tangible, anything, to keep yourself from feeling him. So much him. The buzz of the fluorescent bulbs. The vent blowing cool air against your skin. The weight of contact where your feet met the floor.

You taught mindfulness and meditation to the students and your teammates. Helped them to guard their emotions from people like you. For you, meditation was like closing your eyes. You could still sense those around you, it was just easier to tune out. Like hearing music through cotton in your ears. When others meditated, it was like switching off the light bulb. Leading students through exercises in your class was your favorite time of the day. Sweet silence enveloping you like an embrace from an old friend. 

Later on that first day, when you introduced yourself to Logan properly, he grumbled, “Stay out of my head, bub.” His frustration butted against you like a battering ram. And you stood against it, the feeling piercing your heart just a little. Powers standing tall as a wall of stone as you told him that it wasn’t that simple. You wished they could have just crumbled. You couldn’t help but feel guilt eat away at you like it always did. You wouldn’t blame him if he hated you. 

Over his first few weeks in the mansion, you taught him basic mindfulness in one-on-one sessions. He had trouble taking it seriously; thought it was silly. A bit out, “No way this’ll work, bub,” as you led him through meditation in the training room, sat cross-legged on the mat across from him. You told him to close his eyes, to focus on the feeling of his breaths. “Now you’re just makin’ fun’a me,” as you told him not to fight his emotions. After twenty minutes, you could still feel the anxiety gnawing at him. Just as bad as at the start of the session. When he opened his eyes again, his gaze met yours— bright hazel making your breath hitch. His fear and anger and self-loathing were banked for a moment, and you felt something else. Understanding. Desire. You weren’t sure if it was his, or yours. Maybe both. He ended up in your bed that night. 

Your first few times were pretty vanilla. Him on top, pounding into you, sweat from his brow falling against your cheek. After a month of him fucking you into the mattress at least three times a week, he was still tense as he took you. On edge, knowing he was unguarded from your mutation. It wasn’t that the sex was bad. It was some of the best sex you’d ever had. But you could feel it, whether you wanted to or not. His anxiety. Curled up like a viper behind a bush, hiding just beneath his pleasure. Never fully letting go. 

He didn’t even hold it against you, anymore. Your mutation. Knew how it felt to be hated for something you couldn’t control. Maybe that’s what had drawn him to you in the first place.

But when your nails scraped down the side of his bicep, barely even hard enough to leave a mark, you felt the rumble of his moan, deep in your chest. Couldn’t feel that viper anymore, lurking just below the surface. Like it was carried away in the beak of a hawk as you marked him. He begged. 

“More.” 

You shuddered. In control, after that. Flipping your position so he was on his back, body pliant beneath yours as you rode him. Your breath was hot against his ear when you leaned down, bare tits tender where they pressed against his chest, to whisper. “Gonna let me take care of you, baby? Gonna let go?” 

Nobody would believe how his masculine bravado fell as he let you take control. From the outside, he seemed like the dominating personality in your relationship— undefined as it was. How his hand would reach in front of you protectively during missions, how he would bristle with a clenched fist if anybody talked a little too much shit during an exercise in the Danger Room. They didn’t notice how you could dismiss him with a nod of your head, how he would immediately back down from a fight if you told him to drop it. Like a dog with a bone. 

That’s the thing about Logan. He is protective like a guard dog is protective. And he is submissive like a guard dog is submissive. Oh, you so enjoy training him. 

And much as you tried to teach him to meditate over months since he arrived, empty his mind more conventionally, it never quite worked for him. But when he’s beneath you, eyes glazed over as you bounce up and down on his cock, and you can’t sense a single thing from his pretty little head? You know you’ve done your job well. Given him what he needs. 

“Such a good boy, making me feel so nice,” you croon, in the moment again. He sat on the floor between your legs, eyes desperate and wanting when you thrust your hips up in the air just a little bit. Teasing him with the movement, more than yourself. Your hand is still tangled in his hair as he tries to lean forward to bury his face in your cunt again. 

“Stay,” your voice is hard, careful that you don’t betray the fluttering in your belly at how badly he needs you. “I thought you were a good boy, but good boys follow orders.” You pout, mocking him. 

“’M sorry, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he pants, eyes 

glistening in the dim light of the waning sun. Golden leaves rustling just outside the window. “Wanna make you come.” 

You smile, maybe a little meanly, your free hand squeezing his cheeks together. The other uses its grip in his hair to pull his head back farther, exposing the sweet column of his neck to your greedy eyes. He looks so pretty like this. If he hadn’t been so naughty, you would’ve told him as much. Instead, harsher words leave your lips. 

“Already so pussy drunk you forgot your rules, kitty cat?” You let your hand loosen its grip on his hair, the other still pressing into either cheek, forcing his gaze to yours. “You will make me come when I let you, hm? Can you handle that, darling, or do we need to stop?” The pet name is saccharine sweet on your tongue, mock sympathy dripping from your voice. 

“No ma’am,” he croaks out— words muffled by your grip on his face. You finally let go, comforter plush against your skin as you lean back on your elbows. Nothing but the weight of your gaze keeps him frozen in place beneath you. You wait for him to continue, expectantly. 

“Don’t need’ta stop,” he pants. “Just need you.” 

You love how the words fall from his lips. How he lets them. Tracing his jaw tenderly, the soft touch so at odds with the mean glint in your eye. So at odds with the swell of your heart, knowing he can let go with you. 

“I know you do, baby.” Your thumb strokes his bottom lip, “Now ask nicely.” 

“Please.” The way he begs has your core throbbing, the heat of your desire spreading down each limb like a flame. You almost give in. Almost. 

But you can’t have him getting spoiled. 

He knows he’s fucked when one side of your mouth lifts in a cruel smirk. You lean down so your lips brush against his ear. “I’ll let you lick my pussy clean after you fill it. If you’re good.” 

He whines; the sound a desperate thing. 

“Touch yourself, baby,” you guide as you tease your fingers at your entrance. Soaked, from your slick and from Logan’s mouth. Your first finger slides in easily, as Logan’s hand grips at his cock. He sighs at the stimulation, the relief, though you know he’d rather his face be buried between your legs. His tip is flushed, weeping. He ruts into his fist as your finger begins to move within you. Already so slick that you make room for a second. 

Sparks light up inside your belly, already sensitive from Logan’s work, but your touch is nothing compared to his. Your fingers are smaller, not reaching nearly as deep as his would, when you curl them. But you savor the control— as you fuck yourself on the bed and Logan touches himself on the floor. Almost feral for you. 

Locks of hair pulled from their little tufts where you mussed them, falling in front of his eyes. A bead of sweat glistens on his brow, before sliding down his cheek. His lips part; the sounds of his desire falling from them. Sweeter than any melody. 

And your mutation? Couldn’t sense a damn thing. So blissed out that his mind went blank. Letting each sensation roll over his body like a wave against the sandy shore. 

That’s the toughest part about this. Seeing him like this and maintaining your resolve, composure, control. To tease him instead of fucking him like an animal. And you will— fuck him like an animal. He just has to work for it first. 

You spread your legs a little wider, pumping your fingers in and out. Using your thumb to circle your clit. Teasing Logan with what you wouldn’t let him taste. Yet. You draw out his little torture, watching you get yourself off, so close that your heady desire is all he can smell. Climbing closer and closer to the peak of your pleasure, eyes hooded as they meet Logan’s, letting the sounds of his panting fill the air until you finally come undone. Feeling terribly vulgar as your walls pulse around your fingers. Growing even slicker, then. 

“Stop now, little prince.” 

Logan stops moving like he is bound to your will. You smile. He doesn’t even talk back when you call him little. Four hundred pounds of muscle and adamantium wrapped around your finger. You bring your hand, wet with your arousal, to meet his lips. 

“Open up.”

Logan lets his jaw slacken, his tongue jutting just above his lower lip to taste what you give him. You hum, as your fingers slide into his mouth and he hollows out his cheeks to suck. Your other hand moves to play with his hair, gentler now than it was before. 

“Such a good boy for me, aren’t you?” 

You think that the noise Logan makes is in affirmation. Your fingers remain between his closed lips. 

“Gonna make you come now, baby.” 

Logan bites back a moan, glossy eyes wild with need. 

Fingers slip loose with a slick pop as you guide him up to the bed. You finally let your dress pool on the floor around your feet. Logan sits back against the headboard, flushed cock at attention. You climb atop him, hard muscles so at odds with his lolling head and hooded eyes. Feeling his length press against your belly as you admire the view. Such a pretty thing, sprawled out on your bed, waiting for you with a leaking cock. 

“So needy. Need me to fuck you good, baby?” You ghost a touch across his sweat-slick forehead. “Need me to fuck all the thoughts out of this pretty little head?” 

He nods. But no words escape his lips. You angle your head to the side, patient. 

His voice is rough with desire as he croaks, “Yes, ma’am. Please.”

You feign confusion.  “Please what, sweetheart?” 

Swallowing his pride. “Fuck me, baby. Please” 

You line up above him, palms resting on his toned chest, thick length prodding at your entrance. 

“Mmm, only because you asked so nicely.” 

You sink down on him in a quick, brutal thrust that steals your breath— his cock brushing that perfect spot your fingers couldn’t quite reach. Your mouth finds his neck, where your teeth nip and lips soothe. Inhaling his scent— cigar smoke and whiskey mingle with the musk of his sweat. Undertones of cedar from his shampoo as vanilla wafts from your candles. Your hips remain still, his tip nearly brushing your cervix, savoring the slick, sweet stretch. Logan lets out something between a growl and a whimper when you clench your walls around him, teasing. 

His desperation finally spurs you on, lighting a sweet fire in your core. Angling your hips up before sinking down again. And again. Slow, at first. You let yourself enjoy his thick length dragging along your walls, stimulating that spongy spot that makes you see stars. 

“Y’fill me up so good, baby.” 

Logan’s muscles tense beneath you, eyes squeezed shut as he fights the urge to move his hips. Aching to meet you as you slowly pump, to rut up into you hard and fast. You click your tongue in admonishment as his eyebrows knit together. 

“Eyes on me, sweet thing.” 

His lips move, searching for his words, but all that comes out is a garbled moan. His hazel gaze meets your own, brow heavy with the effort you know it takes to follow your rules. Your mutation still can’t sense anything from him. The strain purely physical, as his mind floats through the bliss of your command. Your chest grows heavy with the trust that Logan has given to you so freely. 

“So good for me, Logan. So good,” you purr. 

Finally, you pick up the pace. Raising up before gravity brings you back down, hard. Logan sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth, eyes rolling back in his head. Quickly darting them back to your face. Tender flesh gripping him to the hilt, before lifting yourself again. A few thrusts like that, as the impact of your ass on his hips fills the room. If it hurts at all, you know he’ll savor it. 

You think fucking like this might break another man’s hips. There are benefits to having a lover made of adamantium. You can play hard, and never break him. He always has his safe word, if it becomes too much. 

Changing your pace again, more for your benefit than for Logan’s. One hand tangles in his hair, pulling. Your arm rests by his head, face hovering just above his. Each of his pants ghost across your lips. Thrusting quicker now, as you rock your hips up and down. Gaze locked on his. The sound of the leaves rustling against the window is drowned out by the bed frame squeaking. 

His velvety length dragging against your sensitive walls brings you closer to the edge of your release— his tip brushes right where you need it with each thrust as he splits you open. The burning tension coils tight, tight, tight in your belly; until you can’t stand it anymore. 

“Lo, fuck, t— touch me,” the command comes out breathier than you intended. But Logan obeys just the same. His hand moves between your bodies, fingers circling your swollen clit as expertly as your own. 

Molten heat races through your body as you tumble over the edge. Waves of warm pleasure sweep you away, Logan’s palm resting against your tummy. You can feel your walls flutter around his cock, rolling your hips as you come down from your high, lips ghosting against his ear. 

“Come for me, Logan.” 

He moves up to meet your thrusts, then. The pressure verges on overstimulation as his cock plunges deep inside. But you savor it, savor giving him exactly what he needs. 

“That’s it, baby. That’s it.” 

Your grip on his hair weakens to a caress as he spills inside you. You still your hips, letting Logan fuck you through his climax. Once he stops moving, your bodies go limp, enjoying this moment of closeness. The way his skin sticks to yours, damp with sweat. The sound of his heartbeat. The rise and fall of his chest. He lets out a contented sigh, and you finally roll off of him. You enjoy the softness of the mattress against your back for a moment. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you finally spread your legs— making room for Logan to settle between them. 

“C’mere, baby. You know I’m not done with you yet.” 

Logan grins, wasting no time as he positions himself between your thighs. There is a mischievous little glint in his eye, face hovering above your cunt. 

“Finally somethin’ to eat. Had me starvin’ down there, baby.”

Bratty little shit. You can’t help the chuckle that escapes you then, rolling your eyes. 

“You talking back to me, bub?” You grab him by the chin, digging in your fingernails hard enough to leave little red crescents in his skin. But there’s a smile on your face and mirth in your voice. 

“No ma’am.” His chin angles down, looking up at you with hooded eyes. His smirk is devilish as he bats his eyelashes. Fucking bats his eyelashes. You don’t think anybody would believe that the Wolverine packs a mean doe-eye. 

Shaking your head in disbelief, the ghost of a smile on your lips, your hold keeps his greedy mouth just beyond his treasure. 

“You wanna rethink your tone, kitty cat?” Head angled, as you watch him through what you hope are stern eyes. You try to add a hard edge to your voice, but he’s so damn cute. 

It seems to work. His smirk melts away, and only hunger remains, desperate and glossy-eyed. “Yes ma’am. ‘M sorry.” 

Victory is sweet on your tongue, at his concession. The heady weight of control in your palms. Electricity snakes down your spine, each pant of his breath teasing you between your thighs. 

“That’s it, baby. I forgive you.” You pout at him, mocking. Maybe you’re a sore winner. You can’t help it when he’s so needy for a taste of himself on your pussy. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.” 

As soon as you loosen your grip on his chin, he buries himself between your legs. Stroking the flat of his tongue from your weepy slit to your swollen nub. Licking and sucking at your puffy folds, swallowing the mix of your slick and his milky spend like it’s the only meal he’s had in weeks. The squelch of him lapping at you and you moaning his name are all that fill your ears. You toy with the hair at the base of his neck, the roughness of his beard against your thighs making you shiver. 

“F-fuck— Lo, baby,” a lewd whimper escapes you, breath stuttering. “You wanna make me come?” 

He somehow buries himself even deeper between your legs, then. Nose pressing against your clit just right, as he devours you. Fucking you with his tongue, before moving up to lick quick circles around the bundle of nerves.

“That’s it, Logan— fuck!” 

Words are lost to you, for a moment. Taken by the pleasure swelling in your belly as he slides a finger inside. Pressure builds in your abdomen when it curls against that sweet spot. You grind against him, eyes closed and mouth agape. 

“Know you can do it, baby,” you pant, spurring him on. Logan adds a second digit, bending to hit the spongy flesh. “So good for me, so—” you are interrupted again, choking out a sob as your core tightens with your impending release. 

Logan brings his lips to your slit, fingers still moving inside. His mouth falls open, ready to drink down your essence when the dam within you finally bursts. The pressure behind your navel gives way to warm wetness between your legs. You fall apart on Logan’s thick fingers, throbbing while he swallows the mix of your come and his. 

His fingers slide out of you, suddenly empty, and the milky ring around them could be his spend or yours. Hopefully both. Bringing them to his mouth, before he licks them clean. He goes limp when you finally relax onto the bed, his head resting against your tummy. His legs must be hanging off the bed comically, but you can’t bring yourself to lift your head and check. You choose to ignore the wet spot beneath your ass. The remnants of your climax and Logan’s inevitable drooling as he ate you out. Something to worry about later. 

For now, your fingers find their way to Logan’s scalp once again, touch featherlight and tender. You can’t help it when he sighs like that beneath your touch. If you had it your way, your hand would never leave its place here. Holding him to you, gently claiming him as yours. 

Your mutation is quiet, still, in the afterglow. At peace. And so is Logan. Head still floating in the clouds, blissed out and dazed. Somewhere nobody can reach except the two of you. As much as he needs this, the way you give him respite even sleep never offers, you need it too. The silence, after. As you lay with him, in tenderness. 

You’re struck with a sudden truth. Not sure how you’d overlooked it, all this time. A low whisper, as the sun finally rests beneath the horizon. Flickering candlelight and the faint fluorescent glow creeping beneath the bedroom door. The aged wood all that separates your little world from the rest of the mansion. If you weren’t so focused on that strange heaviness in your chest, you would have the presence of mind to hope nobody heard the two of you. 

“I love you, Lo.” 

Breath held in your lungs, as you wait. Just a beat, before he answers. 

“Love you too.” His palm rests on your waist, rubbing tender circles. His face nuzzles a little closer into your belly. “My baby. My girl.” 

The stinging behind your eyes catches you off guard. But, so do his words. You feel the truth in them. You never thought you’d have this with someone. Never thought anybody would trust you. An interloper. An unwelcome visitor, eavesdropping on the devotion of strangers, destined to feel their love for each other. But never for you. It was never going to be for you. 

But you feel it, now. Yours. Unsure why it hadn’t cross your mind before. 

Like a wolf, when you met. Wild, feral. Lashing out to bite any hand that got too close. Tamed, with your compassion. Firm as it was. You always thought he was like a guard dog. Faithful. Trusting. Once you’d earned it. Of course he would love you like one. 

You felt heat creep up your ears, at the thought of getting him a collar, stifling a laugh in the crook of your elbow. 

His hum vibrates against your torso. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, baby. Think I just need some psychological help.” The words are muffled against your arm. 

Logan is still packing plenty of sass, even in his fucked out state.

“That’a surprise?” He looks up at you, a single eyebrow arched. You can’t help but laugh. Smiling, as you rebuke. 

“Asshole.”

a/n: aaah thank you for reading!! i'm nervous about this one, if you liked it please let me know!! 🫣

dividers by saradika-graphics

[agoodfictitle-shadowban]

Sweet Summer | Pt. 3 [Ending]

Wanda Maximoff x f!Reader

Summary: The Xavier Institude is being renovated for the summer. With nowhere else to go, your best friends Billy and Tommy offer you to stay with them and their mom. But what happens when feelings start to spark between the two of you?

[Part 1] [Part 2]

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: Violence, Panic Attack, Age Gap (20yo reader, 37yo Wanda)

Tags: mutant!Reader (shadow manipulation), different timeline, everyone is alive (except Pietro, sorry Pietro), no Sokovia Accords, no Thanos, Wanda was young when she joined the Avengers, retired Natasha, top!Reader, bottom!Wanda, but they switch a bit, Vision is a bit of an asshole, divorced!Wanda, mainly cutesy, bit of angst tho

A/n: last part for this story! I hope you liked it, it was fun to write but your comments are what brought the most joy so please do comment! See you soon :)

Your way to the airport was filled with music as you sang along to the radio with Wanda, in a more or less serious way depending on the song, laughing with each other when you decided to make silly faces. It was all in good fun, and showed how happy you were together. When you arrived, you disembarked from the car and headed to the lobby. Wanda was wearing a cap and sunglasses trying to hide who she was. It was your first time on the plane, so you were excited, looking around the place with childlike wonder. Until your eyes found someone familiar.

At first you didn't recognize them, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. It was your dad. Right there, with your mom, and… your younger sibling, you guessed. A boy. Still, he looked so much like you, it was uncanny. They looked so happy as they breezed right past you, so close you could smell them.

As you looked at them, you felt sweat form in the palm of your hands and on your eyebrows. Your heart was racing and your throat started to constrict as your mind was filled with a million thoughts at the same time. Quickly your breathing worsened, and your vision blurred. Were you crying?

"Y/n?" You heard Wanda call from far away.

The world around you started spinning. You tried to grab onto Wanda, but before you could really get any purchase your legs gave way and you were on the ground, having knocked down her sunglasses.

"Y/n!"

Wanda was immediately by your side, her hand on your back trying to support you. In trying to understand what was going on, she allowed herself a peek in your mind. The sheer pain that she felt emanating from you was almost enough to knock her out of your mind before memories and thoughts started to pour in. She put a hand in front of her mouth and a few tears streamed down her cheeks when she saw what happened to you, and finally what had triggered you.

The commotion got the attention of most people around you, including your parents. They stopped to look at what was happening and finally saw you. Your mom took a step back, while your dad stood there with his hands in fists, and your brother was watching with simple curiosity unaware of anything else. There was a clear hesitation on what to do on your father's part, his anger falling into place on his face.

"Get away from her," Wanda growled at them. Only when he saw the red in her eyes did he decide to back off and take his wife and kid with him.

"They're gone, Y/n, they're gone. You're safe," Wanda whispered to you as she took you in her arms, rocking you gently as she rubbed your arm to try and ground you.

Slowly but surely you came back to yourself, and got out of the way to sit against a wall somewhere away from the crowd. You had an icy bottle of water that you applied against the back of your neck as if to cool yourself down. Wanda was sitting next to you, her eyes alert and scanning the crowd like a guard dog.

"I'm sorry," you muttered after a while. You felt guilty about what happened, about the way you just crumbled when you saw them there. You should have been stronger, maybe, sturdier. Wanda simply shook her head at your apology, refusing it.

"Don't, if I saw my parents and brother out of nowhere like that I would freak out."

"It's not the same. I hate them. I wish they were dead," you admitted harshly.

"I don't think it's that different," a very soft Wanda said as she took your hand in hers, playing with your fingers. "They're dead in a way you can't change. In some way, you're also mouning them, mourning what they used to be for you. Your pain is just as real as mine."

You hummed as a form of concession. She put her arm around your shoulder and brought you closer to her, kissing the top of your head. You could feel her heart beat under your head. The reassurance of her presence calmed you for the rest of the trip.

*

Paris was a dream come true. You enjoyed visiting the different places the city had to offer with Wanda, holding hands as you went to the Louvre and the Eiffel Tower during the day, and to restaurants and cabarets at night. But it would be lying to say you didn't stay inside some days to enjoy each other's body and soul. If you stayed in a less well isolated place, you probably would have received a few noise complaints. You had never been this happy in your life, and as for Wanda, her smile was an experience in and of itself with how bright it was when the two of you got to experience life together. It didn't dim even when you were on the plane back to New York.

Back at home, you found a routine between the two of you. You would cook for each other, read together, enjoy the swimming pool, or simply do separate activities in the same room. It was all very domestic and it made you feel like you had found where you were meant to be in the universe. At the same time, you knew this couldn't just keep going like it was perfectly normal. No matter how right it felt to hold her hand, be it innocently or not, this would one day come to an end. You just didn't expect it to happen the way it did. You thought you had more time with Wanda.

*

Vision was in front of Wanda's house's door, having knocked and rang a few times now. He had sent a message an hour ago that he was coming by to get Tommy's guitar, but from the lack of answer to his text and to the door, he guessed that no one was there. With a heavy sigh, he phased through the door. Looked like he was right and no one was there. He went up the stairs and turned left to get to Tommy's room when Wanda appeared from her bedroom, disheveled and in a bathrobe. That made him frown.

"Vision?" She asked, visibly wondering what he was doing there. And he was about to answer when he was able to get a peek in the bedroom and saw your back. His frown deepened.

"Wanda, where is Y/n? I th–" he interrupted himself when he caught a glimpse of you in the window. His eyes widened in shock and at that moment Wanda knew that he knew.

"Don't. Vision!" She exclaimed when he started going down the stairs. She followed him. "You can't tell anyone, Vision."

This felt more like a threat than an amicable request, and the android finally looked back. They were both in the entry now, facing each other.

"I can't tell anyone? Wanda, have you gone mad? This," he pointed towards the bedroom, "is your sons' best friend that you're sleeping with."

"I fail to see how that's any of your business," she answered coldly, crossing her arms.

"For our sons' sake of course it's my business! For Y/n's too for that matter. She's only 20!" Wanda tilted her head at that point.

"A year older than me when we had the twins. She's not a child, Vision."

"Still. Tommy and Billy's best friend."

"That's why you can't tell them," she said more in a whisper than anything. A beat of silence went by before Vision finally said something again.

"Alright. I won't. But you have to do it."

"When the time is right, I promise I will."

Vision nodded at the agreement and finally left the house. Wanda took a few steps back to lean against the wall and close her eyes, taking deep breaths while panic started to settle in. What was she going to do?

You appeared by her side before she could spiral any deeper and you took her hands, looked into her eyes.

"Hey Wans, it's okay, it's gonna be okay," you said in order to reassure her, while you stroke her thumbs. "We're gonna be okay."

She nodded, some tears threatening to spill over. You kissed her cheek and hugged her, bringing her head against your shoulder. You were going to be okay, you tried to convince yourself. Everything was going to be okay.

*

Wanda had been silent most of the rest of the day, her eyes drifting away into nothingness. You left her alone most of the time, only bringing her food and giving her embraces to make her feel better. She would return them but immediately go back to where she was before. It was hard to see her like that. You wished you could take away her doubt and hurt. But you knew it wasn't that easy.

Still, you approached her as she was sitting at the edge of the pool, one leg under her and the other in the water, and sat next to her. Her head fell against your shoulder slowly, her hand found yours, and you intertwined your fingers. The moment felt peaceful despite the turmoil.

"We still have ten days," you whispered to her, swallowing hard at your own words. It was more than you ever hoped to have to begin with.

"I don't think it's enough…" her voice was wavering, and you wished you had a solution for her, something where everyone was happy, but you knew it wasn't possible.

"We could try… I don't know, see how the twins react when we tell them, and go from there." It was a pipe dream that it would go well, but you needed this hope. You needed to think that things could go well and that you'll be happy, because otherwise what was the point?

"Yes, that's all we can do, isn't it?" She nodded and tightened her grip on your hand. That really was all you could do.

With her hand still in yours, you stood up and mustered some courage to offer her a smile.

"Come on, let's get inside and have dinner. I made your favorite."

"Paprikash?" Her eyes lit up and she stood up next to you with your help. You nodded and guided her inside.

Despite everything happening, you managed to have a good time around the table.

*

You were in the living room with Wanda snuggling against you when the door of the house opened and Tommy appeared out of nowhere. You barely had enough time to stand up before you felt his fist come into contact with your face, sending you reeling back against the fireplace. He grabbed you by the collar after that and started yelling right in your face.

"You asshole! How dare you touch my mom?!"

"Tommy!" Wanda exclaimed and grabbed him by the arm, trying to move him away from you without success.

"You come into our home and you take advantage of her like that?!" He brought up his fist to hit you again when a red energy got around him and forced him to walk back away from you.

"Thomas Maximoff! That's enough! I won't tolerate violence under my roof," she ordered, while you were now ready to defend yourself just in case.

"But Mom–"

"I don't want to hear it. If you have something to say, be an adult about it."

"Like you were when you decided to sleep with her?" He pointed out, and you could see the hurt on Wanda's face. If Tommy felt guilty he didn't show any of it. She let him go, and instead of coming after you again, he adjusted his jacket and walked away. "I'm going back to dad's. I'll stay there until she leaves."

He walked by Billy who was waiting in the doorway, looking sorry.

"I'll try to reason with him," he said before he followed after his brother.

Once they both left, you palpated your nose. It was bleeding but it wasn't broken. Wanda grabbed some tissues from the table and tried to stop the bleeding.

"Are you okay Y/n?" She asked rhetorically as the bleeding was coming to a stop. There were no words left in you now, nothing to say to reassure Wanda. Your best friend just clocked you right in the face. The worst had happened, and now you knew exactly the course of action you had to take. You walked back to the sofa and sat down, your hand going through your hair. Your cheek hurt when you finally talked in a broken voice.

"It's over, Wanda," you said flatly. She looked at you from the spot you left her in. She looked away, tears in her eyes.

"I know," she admitted. A few tears fell down her cheek, and finally she joined you on the sofa, sitting close enough for you to brush away the tears. You leaned closer and stole one more kiss from her.

"I love you."

It was the first time you told her, and you knew it was also the last. She embraced you and snuggled her nose against your neck. You could feel the tears slide down against your skin and into your shirt.

"I love you too."

But sometimes love wasn't all that mattered, sometimes you had to protect those you loved. And in order to do that, you had to sacrifice yourself. You closed your eyes. You couldn't allow yourself to cry, or you would never be able to leave. So instead you broke the hug and your heart, and you left the room.

A few hours later, you were out of the house. Out of Tommy and Billy's life. Out of Wanda's life.

It was

The End.

*

It was five years later.

You were sitting at a table in the small coffee shop you always went to between classes, eyes peeled on your laptop's screen. Final week was over and now your real job started as a TA. You had to help grade the exams your students turned in, and you were happy to do so. It was a fulfilling job. You were really focused on it before you noticed someone taking a seat at your table. You frowned, ready to tell that stranger to leave you alone when you recognized him.

"Tommy? What are you doing here?" You asked the young man. He had barely changed since the last time you saw him, he just looked more adult.

"Glad to see you too, Y/n." He picked some of your croissant off your plate and plopped it in his mouth. "To tell you the truth, I just live around here. I didn't think I'd run into you though."

"Why would you, I only go to the University that's around here," you said sarcastically. He somehow laughed at that, before he stole more of your croissant. You swat at his hand so he would stop, you always hated when he did that. "What do you want anyway? Cause I doubt you're here just to steal my food."

"Why not? It sounds like a good plan."

You closed your eyes. Why was he acting like nothing ever happened between the two of you? Like you did nothing wrong? You set your jaw and look at him again. Maybe it was the occasion for you to set things right - or as right as they could be.

"Listen, Tommy… I'm really sorry about the way I betrayed you and Billy. I shouldn't have, it's just…" you took a deep breath. You thought that after five years, you were over whatever happened with the twins, over what happened with Wanda. The truth was… you never got over it. "When I fled from my parents', I was scared, and alone, and… when I met you and Billy, it was like I learned to be brave, but I was never fully a part of you guys. I still felt alone. And then with Wanda…" you remembered the way she used to look at you, like there was nothing else in the room but the both of you, how she would say your name, and hold your hand. You remembered the flecks of gold in the green of her eyes like a forest at sunset. "I didn't feel so alone anymore."

"This is a shitty apology, and a poor excuse," he shook his head. "You don't go out with someone 'cause you feel alone. It's pathetic. You go out with someone because you love them, because it makes you happy. And I know damn well you made my mom happy." That last sentence ended in a guilty whisper. "I guess what I'm asking is: did you love her?"

"I did," there was a pregnant pause, "I do," you admitted, defeated. "But it's too late now."

"Here is the thing… I don't think it's over." You looked at a grinning Tommy, unsure of what he meant by that. He sighed and made it clearer. "You still have a shot is what I mean."

"What about you and Billy?" You asked as your heart was starting to jump in your chest as things got clearer.

"I was the only one with a problem with that. Billy was his usual momma's boy self… which was the right way to react. Which… I'm sorry I hit you."

You massaged your cheeks out of reflex at his apology, then squinted at him. If you understood correctly everything he was saying, that meant… that meant that maybe, just maybe, you still had a shot at happiness five years later.

You stood up and almost toppled your chair. A blush crept up on you when every customer looked at you but you quickly forgot about it.

"I need to go," you told Tommy with determination.

He nodded at you and you left the coffee shop.

*

It was stupid, you thought as you stood outside Wanda's house. During the past five years, the only news you got from Wanda and the twins was when they appeared on the news doing their superhero jobs. Never in a million years you thought you were going to be back in front of the house where everything started - and ended. Nothing had changed. It was the same colonial style house, with the same tree, and the same balcony. You stood there for a good thirty minutes without being bothered by anyone, just observing the house. Reflecting on the past and the present. Until the door opened and Wanda appeared. If the house didn't change, she did; her hair were a fiery red and fell differently around her face now. Seeing her made your hands shake a little. She walked towards you slowly, with her arms crossed around her waist, and stopped right in front of you. Her eyes were greener than you remembered.

"I could feel you from inside," she said without her eyes leaving yours, "I waited for you to approach but you were taking too long."

You looked away, feeling warmth creep on your face as you realized you'd been staring at her. Finally, you managed to find a few words no matter how dry your mouth was.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure… I didn't know if you'd want to see me."

"I don't think I'll ever want not to see you, Y/n," she admitted in a double negative. It was a convoluted way to protect herself, but still, the meaning was there. You smiled slightly and gazed at her again. Your heart was pounding in your chest at this point. You took a piece of paper from your leather jacket pocket. You handed it to her and she took it with a frown, reading what was written on it. "Y/n, what is–"

"It was my turn, wasn't it? To pay for our holidays," you told her so fast you got slightly out of breath.

You awaited her answer.  Wanda swayed left to right, then took a step forward and bit her lip before she finally leaned closer to kiss you. It was short and sweet, and there was still some sadness in it, but it was the promise that she wanted to try and make it all better.

"Let's go on a trip," she said and this time you grabbed her by the waist to kiss her again, and again, and hopefully, a million more times before the end of your holidays.

The End.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

A Break Under The Lights

SUMMARY: You suggest taking turns for some to rest while others peel potatoes on the boat. You can choose who will pair up with you outside to enjoy the boat lights under the night sky.

CHARACTERS: Port Fest Steering Committee (Floyd, Ruggie, Rook & Jack)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kissing

WARNING: Spoilers from the Port Fest Event; Vignettes from Floyd's Port Wear and Rook's Port Wear

WORD COUNT: An average of 600 words per character.

COMMENTS: I wanted to write something for this event, but I couldn't remember anything. Until I finished the story and saw what they said about the lights on the boat. That was asking to write something romantic about it. I didn't get Jack's card, so I don't know his vignette story. 😔 But I'm pretty happy with what I wrote. 😊

My logic for the order of the characters was: R > SR > SR > SSR

I hope you enjoy 😉

CONTEXT: You were all peeling potatoes in the hold of the boat while talking about the festival. Remembering what they say about the exterior: It’s gotten real quiet since all the guests have gone home at the end of Port Fest.

Ruggie: “The neon lights on the Golden Straw sure are pretty.”

Rook: “Oui, more dazzling then even the stars twinkling in the night sky. I believe they only turn them on for Port Fest.”

Floyd: “So today’s the last day they’ll be on, then.”

Jack: “Yeah. This’ll be our last chance to check them out until next year’s festival.”

And that's why you remembered to suggest that you take turns to rest and enjoy those lights outside. You suggest pairing up and while one pair is outside the other two continue peeling potatoes. And then you take turns. Everyone wants to be paired with you, so they let you choose who you want to be paired with.

“Looks like Koebi-chan is getting slier.” Floyd tells you with that cunning smile of his on his face. You say you don't know what he's talking about, in a tone that shows you're lying. What makes him laugh.

“The break thing was a good idea, thou. I was getting tired of those stupid potatoes.” He walks to the bow of the boat and rests his elbows on the railing as he looks out over the sea below you two.

“I heard you won a music contest.” you tell him, approaching the railing as well. “Congrats”.

“He he. Thanks~ But it was too easy. They were all amateurs.”

“You mean it was a contest for amateurs? And you didn't tell anyone you were already experienced?”

“Nobody asked. Aha ha ha ha.” The disapproving look on your face just makes him laugh harder. When his laughter calms down he adds: “Winning the contest was cool and people applauding me too. But I got pretty fed up with that shoal that wouldn't let go of me.”

“A shoal? Are you talking about literal fish or people?”

“I wish it had been fish. So I could just have eaten them. But no. I'm talking about the people who seen me play the saxophone and have been asking me to keep playing for them.” then he looks at you with that creepy smile “You wouldn't be that annoying, right Koebi-chan~?”

“Awww. I was going to ask you to play something for me. I didn't hear you play in the contest.”

“You saw me play at that concert in the end of Port Fest.” He reminds you. You try to look sad and pout at him. But it doesn't seem to work and he seemingly changes the subject. “What about you? You may not have won first, but I heard that your photo won a good place in a photography contest.”

“Hum? Ah yes. Rook was the one who won first place.”

“And he was the one on your photo, wasn't he?” there was that creepy smile again “It really was a good photo. It deserved the place.”

He gets closer to you. You take a step back and your back ends up meeting the railing of the boat. He grabs the railing, each hand blocking your way out. Looking up you could see his face and the neon lights of the boat above the two of you.

“You took pictures of me too, right?” he was smiling, a little creepily, but he wasn't showing his teeth.

“Of course I took. But I didn't get as good an angle of you as I did of Rook, unfortunately.”

“You have the camera with you, don't you?” He asks. You had. You always carried it with you like a shoulder bag. Floyd lets go of the railing. “So you can take some more now.” His good mood returned in a flash. Mood swinging as always.

You seize this opportunity. A photo of him illuminated by those neon lights at night is sure to be beautiful. You take some pictures of him, until he asks if he can try taking some pictures too. You allow it and hand the camera over to him.

He starts randomly taking pictures, until he stands behind you, with the camera in front of you to take a selfie of you bouth. His chin resting affectionately on your shoulder. He takes a photo. Then kisses your cheek. Takes another photo. And if you turn your head to let him kiss your lips, he'll take one last photo.

Ruggie stretches, his arms up high. “AHHH Freedom... For a limited period of time.” he drops his arms. “Good idea. I really needed a break.”

There are no deckchairs or anything to sit or lie on, so Ruggie just lies down in the middle of the deck with his hands behind his head. “*Sigh* I'm exhausted.” he looks at you standing next to him. “There is enough deck for two if you want to rest too. Didn't you walk around taking pictures? Besides, the neon lights are really pretty seen from here.”

You decide to accept Ruggie's offer and lie down next to him. He was right. Those neon lights with the night sky behind it was really a beautiful sight.

“I heard a photo of yours won a place in that photography contest. Congrats.” he smiles at you. “Did you gain anything else from it?”

“Nah. Just that honourable mention I guess.”

“Not even a free snack? Man, what a prize... You know, if the picture had been of me, maybe I'd have considered giving you a waffle with whatever topping you wanted, for free.”

“Really? Oh, wait. The key word here is considered, isn’t it?”

“Shye hee hee. You're getting to know me too well.”

He's messing with you, so you decide to mess with him too.

“Well, maybe that's why I took that picture of Rook and not of you.”

“Oh yeah?” he sulks a little and his ears tip back. “What did he offer you in return? A bunch of praise?” he looks at you with a mocking expression.

“Better that than a possibility of waffle that in the end I might not even get to have.”

“Fine. I would definitely give you a plain waffle. Better?”

“For free?”

“Yah, for free. Too bad you didn't take a picture of me.”

“Actually, I took some pictures of you too. They just weren't the ones to win the contest.”

“Hmm? Really? Shye hee hee... I can see them?”

You always carried it with you like a shoulder bag. You take it and show the pictures to him. The best one was one you took from him while he was "playing" the broom. He smiles when he sees it. Then he has an idea.

He sits up, while you're still lying down, then turns to you and takes a picture of you. You ask what he's doing as he looks at the picture he just took.

“You have a lot of good pictures of me. It's only fair that I have at least one good picture of you in return. Send me this later will ya? Shye hee hee.”

“Do I still get the free waffle if I send you the pictures?”

“Hey, that was if the photo won something in the contest.” he reminds you. You pout for a second, but accept it. “*Sign* You really are such a goody-goody sometimes.” He leans over and kisses your cheek. “There. How's that for a prize? And for the photos.”

If you say it's not enough, he'll answer with a smirk: “Looks like I'm not the only greedy one here. But that's a higher price. You'll have to let me take more pictures of you in return.”

You agree and he lies down again beside you on deck to kiss your lips.

“Ah, it's so good to be able to enjoy these dazzling neon lights.” Rook inhales as if the scent of the sea is a breath of fresh air. “Merci, Trickster! Et merci for choosing me as your partenaire dans le crime.” he looks at you with his sly smile.

“Crime? What do you mean? Now it's a crime to want a little break to appreciate these lights?” You say, pretending badly that you feel offended. “You yourself said that they only turn them on for Port Fest. We must seize this moment.”

He laughs. “I certainly agree with you.”

You start walking towards the railing at the bow of the boat, leaving Rook behind you. You stop and look back when you hear the sound of a photo being taken. You see Rook holding his digital camera pointed at you and with a smile on his face.

“What are you doing?” you ask

“Exactly what it looks like.” he answers casually “I'm taking pictures of you.”

“Well, yes, I can see that, but what for?”

“Mainly for myself, but if you want me to send them to you it will be my pleasure.” You get flattered and he takes another picture of you. “Beauté~” he whispers to himself before turning back to speak to you. “Unfortunately, I didn't have many opportunities to take pictures of you during the festival. My attention was already quite divided between the food stand and photo ideas for the contest. Although I know that any photo with you as the subject would be beautiful.”

You never know what to say when he starts to praise you like that. He starts walking towards you.

“These lights, this place, this moment are beautiful. And ephemeral. So could I ask you for something très spécial, my dear Trickster?” While one hand holds the camera, the other takes your hand and he leans slightly in a bow to you. “Would you be so kind to model for me on this deck? I'm sure all the photos will be magnifique.”

You take your time to answer, but you end up agreeing. And when you do he kisses the back of your hand. “Merci beaucoup mon cher!”

He asks you to act casually, to lean against the railing as if enjoying the view of the sea, to sit on top of a barrel or even on the deck, to stretch your arms as if you want to reach the neon lights. And every time he comments on how beautiful the photo and you are.

Later, towards the end of the photo session, he takes the hat off his head and puts it on yours. “I had an idea.” And then you see him take off his coat, leaving him in just that tight shirt with the blue and white stripes. He puts his coat on your shoulders like a cape. And keeps taking pictures of you.

“I fear our time is running out.” he says sadly after taking several pictures of you in his hat and coat. “Merci encore, Trickster. Each photo is more beautiful than the last. You were so very kind to let me take pictures of you. I wonder...” he gets closer to you and places his index and thumb on your chin, with that smirk on his face. “what kind of thanks you would most like to get from me.”

If you let him, he will kiss your lips. You will feel the smile on his lips and the adoration he has for you. And you will hear one last sound of a photograph being taken by your side.

“Hey, um, I'm sorry I got you into this mess too.” Jack tells you, rubbing the back of his neck.

“It's okay.” you tell him “Well, I'm not a big fan of peeling potatoes, but at least  it allowed me to be here with you.” you smile at him, and he gets flattered. “This neon lights are really pretty. And you said this will be our last chance to check them out until next year’s festival, right?”

“Yeah, we should make the most of them. I'll just go get us some drinks. You must be thirsty too.” He leaves you on deck for a minute and when he comes back he hands you your favourite fresh juice.

You thank him and show him how very happy you are that he knows your favourite flavour of juice. He gets flattered again while saying it's nothing. You two go to the bow rail. You can see how the neon lights reflect in the sea water.

“I heard you won a spot in the photo contest. I'm no photography expert, but I thought the photo was pretty good. Congrats.” He smiles at you, that big smile like he's proud of you.

“Thank you. And you were amazing on the show.” you see him rub the back of his neck as he thanks you. “I also took some pictures of you, you know?”

“Y-you did?!”

You finish your drink and grab your camera to show Jack the pictures. He is so flattered he could blush. And then you show him one you took from him without his coat "playing" the dustbin. You took the photo from the top, and he was smiling so happily that you tell him it's your favourite picture. You leave him speechless of how flattered you make him. And then you look at the boat with those neon lights at night.

“Hey, can I take some more here?” you ask him. “The deck is so pretty with these lights.”

“You want more pictures of me?! Hmm... I... guess that's okay.” His tail is wagging like crazy.

After taking so many photos of the boys, you've already started to realize that the best photos, especially in the case of people like Jack, are the ones where they are more relaxed, not focusing on the camera. So you chat with him and making him more comfortable, only taking pictures here and there.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” He asks you, more comfortable around the camera. “Could we take a picture together? I would like to have something to remind me of this moment.” he says this slightly embarrassed.

You agree and even say it's a great idea. You would love to have a photo with him from that moment too. You decide to put the camera down to take a self-timer photo. But then you think that maybe it's a good idea to let the camera take several pictures, remembering that the best ones are the ones you forget about the camera. And you tell Jack that.

For the first photo you have one arm around each other. Then Jack remembers to take his hat off and put it on your head. He laughs at how cute you look in such a big hat. After that he ends up doing the same with the coat when he sees that you seem to be getting a little cold. It's also way too big on you which just makes you look even cuter in his eyes. His tail goes back to wagging wildly.

You can't take anymore how sweet he is being with you. And you make a gesture for him to bend down as if you were going to whisper something in his ear. But instead, you surprise him with a kiss on the cheek. And he feels entitled to do the same to you.

And if you keep teasing him like this, he'll pick you up so your faces are level and allow you to kiss his lips.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 45

part 1 | part 44 | ao3

Nancy, Jonathan, and some guy with the longest hair Steve's ever seen are standing in a loose circle with Eddie and his bandmates, talking and sort of dance-nodding along to The Power of Love by Huey Lewis (a fact that Steve absolutely intends to mock his boyfriend for the second he gets the chance), and Steve, like, mentally girds his loins.

He and Jon are cool with each other, and he and Eddie are obviously, uh, plenty warmed up to one another by now, but the rest of them...

One's a stranger, one's an ex who seems drunk as shit and is currently so invested in spinning around to the music that she hasn't opened her eyes to notice him, and the other three are thawing to him at a truly glacial pace. Steve hasn't so much as been invited to watch a rehearsal yet because Eddie's 'still working on them' and needs 'a bit more time, but don't worry, they'll come around.'

They don't openly scowl when he and Robin approach, though, so Steve takes that as a win.

"Harrington!" Eddie calls, bowing deeply to add, "Lady Buckley."

Steve would feel stung by the surname if not for how downright giddy Eddie sounds. God, he loves tipsy Eddie; fucking Disney cartoon boy.

"Munson," he plays along, giving him a sly grin and a shoulder bump as he sidles up next to him. "Didn't know you were allowed to leave the basement at these things."

Jeff interrupts his air-guitaring to glare at Steve, bur Eddie holds out a hand and assures him that Steve's just fucking around. Before Steve can apologize or defend himself, Long Hair Guy leans in across the circle, his eyes wide and intense and bloodshot to hell.

"Dude," he greets. "You have. Such beautiful hair."

Steve barks a laugh. Robin rolls her eyes. Jonathan also rolls his eyes, but it seems more fond and less annoyed. "Can't take you anywhere," he mutters to the guy, then asks them, "You guys met Argyle yet?"

Steve holds out a hand. Confusion washes over him as he processes what Jonathan just said. "Uh." Argyle. "Like the sweater?"

"Yeah, man," Argyle smiles, dopey and slow. Sure. The guy in head-to-toe tie-dye and a neon green fanny pack is named Argyle. Why not? "My parents wanted a sheep, but they got me, instead."

Jonathan laughs like it's the funniest joke he's ever heard. Steve's pretty sure he's too sober for this conversation.

They exchange handshakes, and Robin asks if she can touch the guy's hair, and they all slip into easy, friendly conversation, naturally splintering into smaller groups of twos and threes. Steve's just getting the rundown on all the 'sick new gear' the band got for Christmas when the song changes, and god, this night just could not get better.

"Oh, fuck off!" Eddie groans in the DJ's direction.

Steve has to practically swallow his lips to keep himself from cackling, and then he gives up and does it, anyway, because Eddie looks like he just sucked a lemon while watching a dog die as his bandmates all start sing-shouting along. "We're talking away..."

"No." Eddie wheels around and points a finger at Steve, because Steve's singing, too.

Steve just sings louder. "I don't know what, I'm to say!"

"Oh, my god." He scrubs a hand down his face, dragging the skin down until Steve can see the pale pink of his inner eyelid. "Nobody I know has any goddamn taste!"

"Maybe you don't have any taste!" Robin teases, bouncing around and swinging her arms haphazardly to the music.

Nancy backs her up with a mumbled "Yeah!" but she's still spinning around in such tight circles that Steve doubts she has a single clue what's happening in the argument right now. Which is kind of endearing, actually. He likes how willing she is to stick up for people.

The chorus kicks in; Gareth air-drums the switch to half time just before Frank does an honestly super impressive falsetto of 'in a day or twoooooo', and Eddie despairs while Steve laughs his fucking head off.

—

part 46

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

[thisapplepielife]

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.

Sleeping with Spiders

Prompt Day 12: Only One Bed | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language | Tags: College AU, Meet-Cute, Only One Bed, First Kiss

"I think you're in my bed," a voice says, and Steve looks up from the class schedule he's studying while he lounges on his new dorm room bed. 

There's a long-haired guy standing in his doorway. 

“Uh, what?” Steve asks, staring at this guy. 

Steve's room is a single, so this is definitely his bed. It's the only one in the room, and surely this guy can see that. It’s kinda hard to miss. The guy waves a paper at him, and steps inside, dropping his bags to the floor with a thud. He hands the paper to Steve, and Steve skims it, and sure enough, this is his room assignment, too.

Steve fetches the same paper with his name on it, and hands it over. Same room. 

"They've fucked up," Steve says, comparing them, seeing the guy’s name at the top, “Edward.”

"Eddie,” he corrects, then adds, “and you don't say…”

“Steve,” Steve offers.

“They've definitely fucked up, Steve.”

They probably need to tell their RA, so this can get fixed.

Keith, the RA, is spectacularly unhelpful. His only advice was to wait until Monday to take it up with the housing department. It’s Friday night. Or, there’s an open bed in room 704, he offered. They both go look into 704 and there’s a shirtless guy with a mullet, cigarette dangling from his lip, stomping around like he’s mad at the world. They both look at each other. Hard pass.

Steve thinks taking their chances with each other has to be better than whatever that situation would be, so he nods his head back towards their double-assigned room.

They both sit on the bed. They can make this work for the weekend. 

“I can crash on the floor,” Eddie says, “since you’ve already put on all your bedding.”

Steve nods, “Maybe we can get an air mattress?” 

“I’m not buying an air mattress for three nights, rich boy,” Eddie says, teasing, but Steve can tell he’s serious. "Floor's fine." 

And the first night does go fine, and they spend Saturday hanging out in this single room with two occupants. Eddie's fun, Steve likes him, even if they are nothing alike.

Eddie has a guitar, so he tries to teach Steve to play, but finally gives up once he realizes it's a losing game. But Eddie plays, and their floormates stop by the door Eddie propped open. 

Steve wouldn't have thought to do that, but they're meeting people, even if none of them look like anyone Eddie would want to be friends with. 

"I have a band, back home. They're younger than me, so I promised my Uncle I'd at least try college, while I wait for them to graduate."

Steve nods, "That's cool."

"I'm in the music program," Eddie adds. 

Steve points to himself, "Business." 

"Good, that's good. That means I can call on you to be the money man, when we get rich and famous." 

Steve laughs, "Sure, you do that."

That night, Steve offers to switch bed for floor, but Eddie refuses. Which was fine until Steve bolts upright, startled awake. 

"Spider! On my face!" Eddie screams, and someone next door bangs on the wall. Great. This asshole is going to make his neighbors hate him before he gets gone to the right room on Monday. 

"I'm coming up!" Eddie says. 

"You're not coming up!" Steve hisses back. 

"It's my bed!" 

"I think not!" 

"You can share, or you can sleep with the spiders!" 

This bed is a single, a twin XL, whatever that is. There's not room for two guys in it, no way. At least not two near strangers. Steve likes Eddie, and wouldn’t be opposed to a little company from him, not at all. And Steve doesn’t need dinner first, not really, but he also doesn’t just crawl in bed to actually sleep with random dudes. No way.

But he scoots towards the wall, trying to make room for Eddie.

 

Steve wakes up in the morning, and Eddie has a leg slung over his thighs, teetering on the edge of the bed. Steve puts a hand on Eddie's back, just to make sure he doesn’t fall and break his neck.

Eddie leans into the touch, and Steve scratches his blunt nails against the thin cotton of Eddie’s t-shirt. It’s kinda nice being close to someone, even if they’re a random stranger that’s just stuck in your room, with nowhere else to go.

Steve feels when Eddie wakes up, because he tenses. 

“Shit. Sorry,” Eddie says, but there really isn’t much room to escape.

Steve rubs his back, “It’s fine. Honest.”

Eddie takes him for his word, and slings his arm across Steve’s bare chest. Steve likes it. He’s probably digging himself a hole here. 

What else is new? 

Eddie strokes his chest, running his fingers through the hair there, before moving down to the hair leading into his shorts. That's. That's interesting. He's interested in that. Definitely. 

Steve rolls onto his side, scooting towards the wall to make more room, and Eddie follows. Steve reaches forward and tucks Eddie's wild morning hair behind his ear. He wants to see his face. 

"This okay?" Steve asks. 

Eddie nods, so Steve leans forward to kiss him. Eddie meets him, and Steve's loving this. 

Eddie kisses him like it's all he wants to do in the world, and Steve clings to him, breathing hard and heavy into his mouth. He hopes his breath isn't terrible, but if it's, neither of them seem to care. 

He keeps kissing him, touching him and thinks this room mistake was the best case scenario, now. 

Eddie rolls on top of him. 

Steve suddenly has a thought, "Was there even a spider?" 

Eddie cackles, "No." 

Later, Steve poses a question, "Maybe we just don't tell anyone we were both assigned here?"

"Only if you think we can sneak a double bed in here," Eddie says, grinning. 

Steve thinks that's totally doable. Robin will happily create a diversion for that to happen. 

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!

[dootznbootz]

I don't know about you, but I'm a bit mixed about Calypso in EPC. I mean, her songs are good, her singer's quite talented, so I don't have a problem... musically, at least.

But, story-wise, Calypso seems a bit too victim-like in my taste. "I'm not sorry for loving you" seems like it wants to make us sympathize with her and to consider her as Odysseus' friend.

While making her nuanced is interesting, the Epic fandom could be inclined to forget what she did to him in the Odyssey. And how miserable he was alongside her.

On the plus side, "Love in paradise" affirms she's the powerful one and Odysseus later confirms he doesn't love her romantically (plus Athena's 'he never cheated on his wife' line in "God games")

So it won't be detrimental for OdyPen 🥰.

What do you think ?

Oh, I'm definitely mixed about Calypso in Epic. As just like you said:

"While making her nuanced is interesting, the Epic fandom could be inclined to forget what she did to him in the Odyssey. And how miserable he was alongside her."

The Epic Fandom already DOES forget what happens in the Odyssey or think that they are the same thing. :/ I see stuff talking about Scylla in how Odysseus lights the torches and yet, it's tagged as "Odyssey". I love "light up six torches" as it's very dark but also very painful for Epic!Odysseus and that's really fun!

But I get saddened when people think that happened in the Odyssey ;~; as it's one of my favorite parts where Odysseus, knowing that Circe warned him, still goes to put on his armor to try and fight Scylla himself. He tried so fucking hard to save them. And they all grieved later on together. Eurylochus does mutiny in both but in the Odyssey, it isn't because of Scylla or anything. They were all just...Hungry ;~;

That's not even talking about how the Epic Fandom was when we only got the snippet of "There are other ways" ;~;

I still remember when there were jokes about how Odysseus is just like Hamilton and "Couldn't say No to this." Also Circe never did that to "protect her nymphs" in the Odyssey. She did it for funsies as she's a goddess and can do what she wants. That doesn't mean he was happy though.

I DO trust Jay to do well with Calypso's island. While I really am nervous about "I'm not Sorry for Loving you." like very nervous. I think HE'LL also make it clear that Odysseus isn't well or happy. As he has that cut song with the lyrics of:

"Is this some kind of trick? Pretending I can go Because if so, you're sick My heart's already broken"

So even though he cut that song because the beat and the music did NOT fit the situation, I'm very sure he'll have another like it showing Odysseus' despair and suffering.

I just... sighs I'm in a funky situation where I love Epic. I love it a lot. I think it's a genuinely good and fun retelling. I think while some spots are inaccurate, some are still really neat. I just get sad about this almost...disdain towards the actual Odyssey?

"Oh, Odysseus doesn't mention Penelope and Telemachus as much as he does in Epic-" Yes, he does. It's in so many of the metaphors and there's so many moments where he's clearly thinking about them. I love singing Penelope's name longingly too but an ancient epic poem is gonna be a lil different xD

"Oh Polites isn't really in it-" ...And?? That's okay. You enjoy Jay's character he created who really isn't in the Odyssey as much.

"Odysseus is such a manwhore in the Odyssey-" I am beating you over the head with a fucking rock.

Jay is clearly so fucking passionate and cares about this story so so much (he had a MENELAUS SONG (I grieve it's loss every day ;~; THEY CAN BOTH SIMP FOR THEIR HOT AF WIVES)) He had other characters planned!

But yeah ;~; I get so fucking sad every time someone talks about Epic being better than the Odyssey. Like even JAY wanted to clear that up that "hey, the Odyssey is really cool! I mean I wrote this because I love it so much." and yet... people don't wanna know or even TRY to understand what happens in the actual Epics.

I have hope. I just hope the FANDOM follows through.

[lilghostiequinni]

Drum Beat

Main Masterlist Lando Masterlist

Pairing: DJ!female reader x Lando Norris

Warnings: None

Summary: You were just doing your set in Maimi when it was interrupted by this amateur DJ who just won a race.

Requested: NO / yes

Working with the crowd had to be one of your favorite things about being a DJ, as well as doing the music sets.

You also found ways to work requests into your set, which can be difficult, but also why you give a sheet to take requests at big gigs that stop before the show or allow walk-up requests from people at smaller gigs such as clubs and bars.

Someone came up and requested a song you had never heard of, so you looked it up and showed the woman who asked it to make sure it was the right song, which it was, then asked if you could do a mashup of two songs instead and showed you the second song when you agreed.

It started playing the beat, and when the singing began, you added your own beat that complimented the song, then brought in the second song.

After the mashup, you continued with your set, getting in the zone. When someone comes up to you, you barely acknowledge their existence, waiting for them to request.

When they don't say anything, you turn to them and say, "What can I do for you?"

"Do you think I could try? I've DJed just about everywhere in the world," This man says.

You look to your friend, who also owns the club, and just give him a look; he looks to the man, than you, and gives a subtle nod.

"Sure, don't break anything. I could use a break and a drink," You tell him before giving him a quick rundown of what's on your board.

The man nods, "I'm Lando, by the way."

"Cool," then you walk towards the bar.

It's ten or fifteen minutes before you go back to the booth.

"You didn't tell me your name," Lando tells you when you return.

"I have the feeling that if you really wanted to know, you could find out," You tell him as you all but kick him out of the booth when you see people waving him down in the corner of your eye.

You then get back to your set for the night, Lando not once making it back up to you.

It was a few weeks later that you saw Lando again, this time not in Maimi but in Monaco, where your family lived.

"Muse, are you stalking me?" Lando says, after you literally ran into him when you went to look at your phone for one second.

"Muse?" You question, looking at him.

He just chuckles as you register the rest of what he said.

"No, my parents live up the block," You told him before trying to get around him to leave.

"Let me walk you. I live up that way," He says, offering his arm.

"I guess," You then handed him a couple of the bags you had rather than take his arm.

A/N: The song in the beginning is 33 Max Verstappen and Lando Norris mashup

Tags: @poppyflower-22 @samantha-chicago @barcelonaloverf1life @tallrock35 @ellen3101 @llando4norris @mcmuppet @issi-loves-dannyric @hellothere9597

If you want to be removed from a tag list, let me know so I don't keep tagging you. If you are striked through, I don't know if you want to be tagged, but just let me know if you want me to continue or stop

[vodika-vibes]

Hey vodika!

Congrats on your follower milestone!

Could I request f!Jedi reader x Sev

Garnet

Autumn evening

Thank you! Love you! Xx

Forever

Summary: Of all of the things that Sev hates in the universe, watching his Jedi get hurt tops the list.

Pairing: Clone Commando Sev x Reader

Word Count: 777

Warnings: Reader is seriously injured here, though I didn't detail how she was hurt. Reader is described as formerly having long hair.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: So, I tried my best with this, but it's not easy to write when you can't focus for longer than a few minutes at a time. I'm sorry if it's not quite what you wanted. If you don't like it you can send another request and I'll write something when I'm not sick.

Sev knows that he’s not the gentlest of men. He knows that he’s quick to anger and that he enjoys violence just a little too much for most people to want to put up with. Sure, his own batchmates know that sometimes he says those things simply because it gets reactions.

But most of their brothers don’t.

He doesn’t mind it. He gets along better with his batchmates over anyone else anyway. Well, his batchmates and their jedi.

His Jedi.

She was a surprise addition to Delta Squad shortly after the war began. Someone who was supposed to manage their mission loads and help them so they could take more dangerous missions. 

And she quickly integrated herself into Delta Squad. She was careful to not step on Boss’ toes, listened to Scorch’s jokes, redirected Fixer when he was being his most ornery, and was able to temper the worst of his temper.

How could Sev not fall in love with her?

And Sev has never been the type of man to tiptoe around things like feelings, so he told her as soon as he knew that he loved her. He fully expected her to turn him down, but she surprised him by releasing a musical laugh, and agreeing to go on a date with him to see where this leads.

That was nearly a year ago now, and somehow Sev is still able to claim her as his girlfriend. Somehow, because he thought for sure that she would kick him to the curb months ago.

His gaze drifts from his rifle, which he’s been cleaning, to his Jedi.

They’re holed up in a Jedi Safehouse, and his brothers are out trying to find a way off this planet, while Sev chose to remain behind to look after their barely conscious Jedi. 

It’s a shame she hasn’t been able to enjoy the planet properly. His Jedi loves this type of weather, when it’s cool and the leaves have started to change. Sweater weather, she calls it.

Though, she’s not saying much of anything at the moment.

She’s nearly gray-faced, and her layers of robes have been removed and replaced by bandages. Her hair had been shorn into a much shorter style, due to the sheer amount of matting that they hadn’t been able to fix-

And then she stirs, her fingers flexing against the thick blanket granting her some modesty.

Sev swallows hard and sets his rifle to the side, before he stands and walks over to her carefully settling himself on the floor near her cot. Her pretty eyes flutter open and focus on his face, “Sev-” She mumbles his name, and she lifts her hand, which he catches and threads her fingers with his own.

“Hey there, Pretty Girl.” He replies, “Welcome back to the land of the living.”

“-where?”

“We’re still on the same planet,” He explains as he gently squeezes her hand, “The others are out looking for a way out.”

She tries to sit up, but Sev is quick to push her back prone, “I should be helping them-”

“You need to rest.” Sev insists. 

“But, it’s not safe.” She tries.

“Hey,” He waits until her pretty eyes are locked on him, “No one here is going to hurt them. We’ve already killed anyone who might try.”

She blinks at him.

Sev smiles wryly and he brings his free hand up to rest against her bruised face, “They had you, cyar’ika. They had you and they were hurting you, there was no other option.”

She sighs softly, and she turns her head to kiss the palm of his hand, “I don’t deserve you.” she mumbles.

Sev just laughs, “I think that’s supposed to be my line.” All of the tension has drained from his body now that she’s awake and talking, “You deserve far better than me. It’s a shame that I’m not so good a person to just walk away and let another person have you.”

She lightly squeezes his fingers, “All I want is you, though.”

“You have terrible taste in men.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Slowly, Sev brushes some of her hair out of her face, “No one is ever going to hurt you again, cyar’ika. I promise.”

She smiles at him, soft and warm, and Sev leans in to press his lips lightly against hers, pulling away just as quickly as he leaned in. “Now, get some more rest. As soon as we have a ship, you’re going to take a nap in a bacta tank.”

She just sighs, “Will you stay?”

Sev brings their joined hands to his lips, and presses a light kiss to her knuckles, “Forever.”

[jo-harrington]

Closing Time (Eddie Munson x Store Manager!Reader)

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie watches the reader slay a dragon. (Reader works at Claire's in StarCourt and deals with a shitty customer before closing the store.)

Previous Part: Leave of Absence

Warnings/Themes: Semi-established relationship (friendship? Eddie isn’t sure what they are either), fluffy. Reader is not a Hawkins native, but it's kind of just implied. Eddie is a romantic boy and makes everything fantastical in that silly head of his. Also he makes a crude (ish?) joke. Typical teenage boy/young adult stuff. Nothing crazy,

Note: This is my first drabble I'm actually posting. (I haven't written actual fics in a hot minute, only headcanons). I hope it's good, but it really was an opportunity for me to get my frustrations out after work in a store for the first time in 2 years since I moved to corporate. And I kind of liked it so I might write more. (Therapy who?)

(Future Jo here...You can find my masterlist here for more featuring our resident Store Manager and all of my other writing.)

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

___

"Ma'am, I'm sorry that this is confusing, but it's store policy."

"Then I'd like to speak to the store manager."

"I am the store manager," you explained, smile dropping right off your face only to be replaced by a cool mask of indifference.

Eddie stood just outside of the store, leaning against a railing that overlooked the Food Court, and watched you. It was a Sunday, which meant the mall was closed early, and all of the stores were dark except for yours. The gate was halfway down, but he could still see the tenacity--the ferocity--in your eyes as you dealt with an unruly customer and it took everything in him to ignore the little shiver that went up his spine.

When Eddie first gotten a job at Tape World, he had briefly wondered if it was a mistake. He had mostly been given closing shifts to offset gigs at the Hideout on Tuesdays and Hellfire on Fridays. Not to mention school once it was back in session. And seeing how closing shifts meant he was missing out at the opportunity to be dealing at local parties over the summer...well he didn't need to pass algebra to know it was costing him some potentially serious cash.

But the pay at Tape World wasn't awful and it was steady. Wayne seemed to be proud of him for finally having a steady job, despite the assurance that he would always be proud of Eddie. The discount was nice, and his manager let him promote Corroded Coffin shows at the counter.

And then there was you.

At first glance, it didn't make sense to anyone. You with your pastel purple name tag, mega-watt smile, trendy clothes, and stacks of scrunchies. And Eddie with his alleged devil-worshipping, superior taste in music, non-conformity, and hair wild either from too much head banging or the single window AC unit in his trailer. Shit, even he didn't understand it in the beginning; he thought you were everything he said he hated.

But you weren't.

Just like he wasn't everything the entire town said he was either.

Instead he found someone who was just like him, only sort of not at all, with your own flock of lost little bedazzled, pastel and neon sheep that you were protective of. You were a misunderstood soul, a compassionate leader, and one of the most patient people he ever met.

Except for right this minute.

The lights in the mall itself started to dim and the music went silent. Yet, there you still stood in front of one of the local PTA moms as she complained about a return.

She had already been in the store when Eddie arrived to meet you at the end of your shift. (Sunday nights were your...well, Eddie didn't know what to call them. Not date nights; not yet at least.) And you had given him one quick, apologetic glance over her shoulder before you geared up for battle.

But Eddie had been watching as your mood devolved ever since, and you went from understanding, to annoyed, to fuming. And here you were now, looking as though you could singlehandedly manifest a pit to open up beneath Loudmouth Linda to swallow her whole if she carried on with her rant.

And it was kind of hot.

Eddie wouldn't consider himself someone who thought anger was sexy. It was scary. He had seen the way his father would get angry over the most minor things and it stayed with him his entire life. He would freeze, even at the most minor indication that anger was being directed towards him. From his father, from a teacher, from Officer Callahan--although Hopper was usually there to rescue him from that one.

It was different when it came to bullies at school or the townies that spoke in hushed tones when he passed them by. He could stand up to the jocks and the popular kids that pushed him and his friends around. He could ignore the scathing looks from the busybodies at the grocery store. And as much as it hurt to be cast away by almost everyone he met for years, he knew that it wasn't anger--actually he wasn't sure what it was, really--that caused them to do those things.

Just like it wasn't really anger that fueled your fight for the past fifteen minutes. It was purely righteous indignation as you were attacked by this absolute dragon of a woman.

Deep down, he wished he could be your savior, having dealt with the spitting venom of these townies before on numerous occasions. But you were no damsel, and this wasn't your first battle either. You took every insult with grace, every octave of a raised voice was met with an equally raised voice before going back to calm. You verbally jousted, using every trick in your book, and when they didn't work...

"Once again it is against the policy of StarCourt Mall to have customers in the building this late past close and I will have to call Mall Security to come and escort you out regardless of your choice ma'am. So we can either proceed with your return and you get the money back that you paid and not a cent more or I tell my staff and security that you are no longer welcome in this place of business. And security will have to take your picture as they escort you out."

...You simply slayed the beast. With a smile. Although Eddie believed you were actually just baring your teeth in warning.

There was that shiver up his spine again, and were those goosebumps on his arms?

He sort of hoped to be on the receiving end of those teeth sometime soon.

Regardless, your customer was left speechless as you processed her return and called security to escort her to the exit. Eddie smiled smugly as they passed him by.

It didn't take long for the lights of your store to finally shut and for you to duck under the gate before locking it.

He didn't even get a chance to congratulate you on your victory and tell you how absolutely epic you were before you were walking face first into his chest and sighing as your arms went around his waist in a hug.

“Hey,” he chuckled and put his arms around you, one hand instantly rubbing up and down your back.

“Hi.” Your reply was muffled and you squeezed him a bit harder.

"Y'ok there?"

"Yeah," you responded quietly and rubbed your cheek against his t-shirt. “You wanna get DQ?” You looked up at him for a second.

“I could use a blizzard,” he agreed.

“Cool,” you sighed and settled back against him. “People suck.”

“They do.”

The two of you stayed like that in relative silence for a few minutes and as much as Eddie wanted to go on--to tell you that the lady was out of line, that she was entitled, and that he could never handle it as smoothly as you did--he knew that wasn't what you needed right now.

He momentarily wondered that it wasn't all bad, not being your knight, when he could instead be the home you returned to after battle.

And he would happily do it, even if you never asked him to.

"You know," he finally broke the silence. "I've heard people threaten to call security many times. Mostly on the receiving end, sometimes as an innocent bystander."

"Oh yeah?" You finally looked up at him, nose wrinkling with a smile.

"But I think that was the first time it almost gave me a boner," he admitted.

"Eddie!" you pushed away from him and slapped his arms as you laughed, eyes shining with joy. Your worries were not forgotten, he knew, merely smoothed over by, hopefully, your adoration for him. "You fucking perv!"

"I said almost," he defended.

He would be there. Happily.

Next Part: Team Building

[avengedbiologist]

Thunderbirds 80s style

So turns out my 80s phase I've been having has brought me back to tbirds so here's my 80s au. Info under cut x

Firstly I ain't taking criticism, these designs feel right 2 me and so do the song choices. Sorry there isn't more diversity in the music tastes these r literally just from bands I know.

Gordon-

Kiefer Sutherland (specifically him in the movie 1969 with his longer hair) and George michael r my inspo for him, I mean the hair is the main inspo but the vibes from both of them R verryyy Gordon to me. He dresses very typical 80s he's a big big fan of denim.

His playlist:

His favourite bands are Wham and Cinderella, being a big George Michael fan in general. His favourite album is night songs by Cinderella. Not sure why Cinderella is his fave but it feels right ☝️ (everyone listen to Cinderella xxx)

Him and Alan being the lame duo they are, were Wham for Halloween.

Alan-

Alex Winter for this guy, probably because of bill and ted (definitely because of bill and ted and also nose 👃) and I can genuinely get behind Alan having curly hair. Despite this he has long hair in this cause he's a trendy fella, and if I didn't give any of them long hair I would be a fraud and a fake to the 80s cause. He switches his style a lot but he has a lot of inspo from rock bands.

His playlist:

(I am definitely not projecting) (okay maybe I am, be glad my favourite KIX song is from the 90s)

I feel he is more rebellious (very 04 Alan me thinks) so he tends to lean more to the rebellious type music (big glam rock fan) his favourite band is and will forever be KIX, he has seen them live like 50 times. And his favourite album is Midnite Dynamite by KIX. Listen to KIX and u will get it (or not idk).

Scott-

I'm blaming @knyee because of their Tom Selleck thoughts 😩. Older Scott very Tom Selleck, younger Scott very Tommy Lee, and Jason patric is just there cause he's a guy with brown hair and blue eyes, any 70/80s person with brown hair is Scott to me (could Eddie Van Halen be the next Scott Tracy 😮).

His playlist:

I feel Scott's tryna be more cool but hes not as deep with his music as say Alan or Kayo. So he's a very, whatevers popular kinda guy. Big Bon Jovi fan, his favourite album is Bon Jovi, slippery when wet. And he's a big fan of older stuff as well, big Kinks fan.

Ugly ass fashion as per w Scott, I mean it's not bad it's just,,, very Scott 🧍‍♀️.

Virgil-

Now I am about to be controversial,,, I genuinely forget Virgil exists. Like who is he,, U tell me ? So this made someone that vibes w him very hard to find. So this may be weird to people, this may not fit as well as the others, but if U ignore the hair I hope U can see my vision. Paul Stanley. Look at his eyebrows, look at his cheek bones then get back to me Kay x.

His playlist:

Virgil's cool af what can I say, he does like older songs too but alas I didn't focus on them. Tho this au of the Tracy family has no specific like version (weather it's tag tos or 04, tho with me it's never TAG do not speak to me about TAG Alan xx) I will say this, TAG Virgil is a Metallica fan, I get he does classical music but he can do that,, and like Metallica, cause guess what,, he's cool as shit. Despite this is fave album is Lick it up by kiss.

Don't ask me how to dress virgil, I just put him in green and call it a day.

My fun fact about Virgil is his gay awakening was Slash from guns n roses.

John-

Again don't know shit about John, not do I care for him but if I make him look like Billy Idol I begin to care. I'll tell U sommat not only is this inspo, Billy is like a face claim for me, Ur telling me that's not John Tracy. Is Billy wasn't cool af he would be John Tracy. And as well as looking like Billy idol he is a fan of Billy idol, his fave album being Billy idol by (U guessed it) billy idol.

His playlist:

(R we starting to see my love for lost boys, cause if not just wait till kayo xx)

Rolling stones yeah pretty sick, time in a bottle is out there compared to the others but John's an all over guy I think.

Kayo-

Oh look, Jami Gertz, lost boys reference, what a shock.

Kayos cool, like just look at her, holding hands with penny (women in love what can I say) originally her like fave album was gonna be Kill em' all by Metallica but Kayos here for the girls so her fave Album is Vixen by Vixen. Corker of an album (everyone listen to it x)

Her playlist:

I fear Joan Jett would also be on her playlist but idk man. Kayos just like quirked up but in a fun way, she does try to listen to a lot of female artists. She likes spooky music and old music. If I was doing a 90s or later au she would be a fan of the song 'Living dead girl' by Rob Zombie.

She's a lost boys fan (not projecting) and loves horror films and she takes John to see em, only cause Penny does not like horror films.

Penelope:

Janet Gardner (from Vixen) is her celeb inspo, tho I fear there's a lot of blonde 80s celebs that would work, but why go for Madonna when Janet's right there, and her hair is taller. If Penny doesn't have tall hair that ain't Penny.

Her playlist:

Big big big Stacey Q fan, her fave album is Stacey Q better than heaven. Penny is a big fan of 60s music as well, loving Erma Franklin, he favourite song being her cover of 'Hold on I'm comin''. She loves Daughters of Eve, their song 'Hey lover' is her and Kayos 'song'.

She has seen Stacey Q live many times and has (lovingly) dragged Kayo to them. Kayo is also a bit of a fan. They both like a lot of each other's music, if they find a new band or an artist they like has released a new song they always try to listen to it for the first time together.

I am realising now I didn't write Penny's fave films which are: Heathers, Labyrinth and Hairspray.

This is a long ass post oopsies, hope U enjoy my nonsense x

[paragl00m]

I think what bothers me about the "fake fans" discourse is that people on their fandom high horses see other, lesser fans' interactions with the fandom (theories, questions, favorite song/episode/"era" etc) as products to consume and critique rather than the attempt by an excited, probably young human being, who found a piece of art or media they resonate with, to connect with other human beings who are excited and passionate about the same.

It also seems to stem from the "if it's popular, it's not cool anymore and I won't feel cool for liking it" attitude where early adopters (or people who swear they were) try to gatekeep a fanbase at the expense of the artist's success. But if you truly like an artist, wouldn't you want them to be successful? Wouldn't you want them to be able to grow and move on to higher and higher accolades and have more people who appreciate their work? I'm not sure how giving an artist the reputation of having a fanbase of rude, exclusive, engagement-policing fans helps them more than it hurts.

I've seen posts about how fans of Ethel Cain/Hayden who aren't trans, or don't live in the south, or don't have religious trauma, or aren't women, don't understand her and shouldn't interact in the fanbase or share their own interpretations of the lyrics that might not line up with the Ethel narrative. Where do y'all think understanding begins? If people are listening to American Teenager bc they think it's fun and poppy, great. If that's the only song of hers they ever listen to, fine. But maybe they will connect with it and decide to explore more of her music. I am a transsexual man who lives in Louisiana and doesn't have any sort of religious trauma or background, but I resonate deeply with how Hayden writes about being transsexual in her music, I identify strongly with her Ring/Great Dark spiritual interpretations, and I like how her sound gets very gothic at times. People are drawn to art for so many different things, let's not be cops about it.

Essentially, fandom should be about shared appreciation for the artist and about having fun sharing it. I got on tumblr bc it seemed like Hayden had a fun little community going with some down-to-earth fans where they have sort of peer-to-peer conversations. And then I start looking in the #ethelcain tag and many of the posts are "fans" talking about how much they hate other Ethel Cain "fans." Lighten up, damn

[paloma-ascends-into-hellfire]

mutuals! (alphabetical order)

sorry in advance for the tags, love you all

@ace-of-pussy - monday - just a cool person i admire from afar, i feel blessed that she follows me

@akari-is-sleepy - my irl, they never post or rb anything but i love them so much

@archerestarcher - archer - we don't really interact but he's super cool and is one of my oldest moots

@auroraofthesun1 - aurora - she’s so so cool and i’m so honoured to be her mutual

@awful-amateur - everett - we don't really interact but i think they're one of my pjo mutuals?

@a-wondering-thought - julian - julian is my cool mutual and they have an impeccable vibe

@barblarvernour - an enabler of my starkid brainrot

@book-girl4eva - bea - i want to adopt her, she's so amazing and sweet and she just- UGH

@caked-rainbow - have we ever interacted, like ever? idk but i like the shitposts they reblog

@casperwazhere - casper - every time i see one of his posts i'm like, "oh yeah, so real"

@cavernfullofexistentialdread - dread - we are the same person, prove me wrong.

@closetnerd62 - very cool person

@dafantasyqueen - shree - literally one of the coolest people i follow

@despisinglight - i find their blog extremely entertaining

@dingus0401 - gen - my internet bestie fr

@duckgens - starkid/tcb

@erikasnothungry - erika

@evenbiggercat - cat - my irl, love her, i’m gonna make her watch more musicals with me :)

@finleyforevermore - finn - activism and musicals, he's supremely cool

@fulllighttrash2

@gonna-live-just-to-spite-you - caesar - pretty sure the most interesting posts i find through him

@hungergameswho - nox - I LOVE NOX THEY'RE SO COOL

@iam1withthepeggy - kate - fellow band/choir/theatre kid

@iloveeverythingwaytoomuch - emz - when emz starts posting, it's time to get out the popcorn because their brain is truly unhinged

@im-on-crack-send-help - riyana - most relatable person on the planet

@ketsisnotok - kets - SO COOL OMG I'm so honoured to bee your mutual <3

@leaskisses444/@oceanbby555 - lea - she's so nice omg

@leonard-martin - one of my hatchetfield moots

@louissatturi - louis - again, don't really interact but occasionally his stuff comes up and i'm given an update on what he's up to

@luvuanaxx

@marvelmaniac715 - katie - obsessed with david tennant and other things i don't really understand so I just kind of do an awkward thumbs up, like, "oh cool you're into this"

@mimmmyyy - mara - the sweetest person ever, she is literally the coolest

@musical-dash-trash - *points at you* GAYYY

@mylittlevsoldier - sage - sage is so aesthetic and i'm shocked that they ever followed a mere peasant such as myself

@my-mind-is-frozen - willow - definitely one of the nicest, most chill people i've ever met and i need to meet her someday

@paranormaltheatrekid - elliot - feeds my insanity

@sondheim-girly - jean - AMAZING PERSON AND IM SO GLAD WE MET, musical theatre <33

@st4r-fire - star - she is absolutely insane and i love her

@sukiram - suki - never active but when they are i love talking to them

@tharealamelialuvsfrasier - mel - feeds the rent brainrot

@thehyperfixationspeedrunner - bea - AMAZING EPIC THE MUSICAL PERSON

@therealkaidertrash21 - ema - fellow latine and lunar chronicles stan

@the-slowest-turtle - turtle - truly incredible human being

@thezachy - epic the musical stuff and shitposts

@wants-to-marry-sirius-black - ara - genuinely so cool and nice and amazing i love her sm

@wlinixy - linn

@xxxmiaxxx

[buffyfan145]

I got the first 2 episodes in of "Rings of Power" s2 and they were amazing!!! 😀 Worth waking up at 5 am to watch. LOL I still got ep 3 to watch and will this afternoon, but need to get my thoughts out here behind a cut, but so happy with s2 so far. Not tagging all the characters, as it seems to think too many is spam, so hopefully this goes in the tags and I talk about most.

First off, I loved seeing Sauron's backstory in ep 1!!! 😀 I mentioned before in my other posts that I'm a fan of Jack Lowden's and it was great getting to see him after the version Adar knew. I only expect Jack back in flashbacks if he's able, even more so seeing a new interview with Charlie this morning assuring fans that he won't be recast. The whole prologue explained so much about what happened with Adar, and then Sauron reforming eventually into Halbrand. Also confirmed he really was going to Númenor on his own, and his meeting with Galadriel really was by chance so those theories he planned it all along were wrong.

Charlie's doing amazing too both as Halbrand and now as Annatar. I loved all the shoutouts too to "The Silmarillion" and other 1st Age stories about him, including him being The Lord of the Werewolves and able to talk with that wolf. Then the Bible references as we knew about the Annatar transformation scene looking like Jesus and angel paintings, but also the "Let My People Go!" scene fit with Moses and especially the "Prince of Egypt" movie, which I love too. But also realized at times they way they're doing (and Tolkien wrote) Sauron rising from nothing to being aids to kings is so similar to the Bible story of Joseph, and the musical "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat" (which my high school did an amazing version of that music my junior year of high school LOL). So I loved all of this and everything we saw with Celebrimbor in ep 2.

Then with Galadriel!!! 😀 OMG, first I have to mention about those Haladriel scenes!!! We knew the rings were going to connect them, as well as their mental bond in general, but now she's seeing visions and knows Sauron is in Eregion and saw him there. Plus, hearing him call her name in that vision, and confirming that she can read his mind, and him hers (as he knew the rings worked). Then the big one where Galadriel confessed to Elrond about how she feels about Halbrand/Sauron (and still used his Halbrand name) and it clearly was showing us that she fell in love with him by using that flashback to the "I felt it too" scene, and that's why everything that happened and being deceived hurt her so much. And Elrond knows now, which is why he and Gil Galad are being like that to her now as they don't trust her around Sauron anymore and think she'll turn. Loving that we're getting scenes about Haladriel even if they both are actually in the same place.

Then I loved the scene with the rings and showing they are good and worked to help restore the elves. Absolutely love Círdan too and being a mentor to Elrond. Him talking about more 1st Age characters and their flaws was great too. LOL

The storyline with The Stranger, Nori, and Poppy is great too. He's got to be Gandalf. I thought this the whole time but every scene I see of him just confirms it to me.

Pretty sure Ciarán Hinds' character is one of the Blue Wizards. The show did supposedly get the rights to use the Blue Wizards stories that Tolkien wrote in "Unfinished Tales" and one of the 2 Blues went evil in the 2nd Age in Rhûn, similar to how Saruman did in the 3rd Age. So I'm pretty sure that's what we're seeing him and that he found a cult with the Mystics.

Then loved seeing more with Durin, Disa, and the dwarves. It's setting up Sauron/Annatar giving them the 7 rings, and the making of the Doors of Durin too. Also very cool seeing Narvi too and the female dwarves having facial hair similar to more male elves having long hair (this didn't bother me like it did other fans but cool to see them add it). Though also really sad about the singing not working.

So now getting ready to watch ep 3 this afternoon and I saw from the description that it involves other characters we haven't seen yet from s1, and then I'll be caught up till ep 4 next week.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Fan Fiction: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: Not only did Chuck write books about your lives, but a damn musical theater is putting a play on about your goddamn lives. You try to let them handle this one on their own but they're not letting you go, and it's time to bring insurance to make sure you never leave them.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean sits outside the motel room working on his car. The hood is up, he's elbow-deep in the engine, and Sam is nowhere to be found. You're standing off to the side with your gun trained in front of you. Your target is a tree that's fifty yards from you, something stationary. You wish you had a moving target but you don't think Dean and Sam would appreciate being put in the line of fire.

You pull the trigger three times, hitting the exact same spot on the tree, scaring some squirrels into fleeing their home.

"Would you quit it?" You look at Dean who pops his head from over the hood. He's a bit sweaty, has a grease smear on his forehead, and his arms look extra thick in his thin t-shirt. You don't have romantic feelings for him anymore, but damn he'd be a good fuck. "We're not the only people out here."

"I'm bored without a real target. Unless you'd like to be mine."

You smirk when he flips you off. The motel door opens and Sam walks out in search of you and his brother. You put your gun away and approach the brothers because Sam has his professional face on.

"Hey, how long have you two been up?"

"I never slept," you say.

"Long enough to find us a case," Dean replies right after you.

"I take it that means you're feeling back to normal?"

"Yeah, whatever normal is in our world. Right here." Dean takes a break from working on his car to hand Sam the newspaper. "A teacher in an all-girls school went missing in Flint, Michigan. She was heading to her car, disappeared, and nobody's seen her since."

"Dean, there's nothing here that even remotely suggests there is a case."

"There is nothing that even remotely suggests there isn't a case."

"Come on, man," Sam sighs.

"Sam! Being out there and hunting is the only normal I know." He closes the hood of the car and moves to the open trunk. He messes around with his weapons before shutting the trunk. "We got work to do."

"I'll tag along. It's not like I have anything better to do."

"Like you had a choice," Dean mutters to himself, but you hear.

It's a seven-hour drive from where you are, and those hours go by quickly. Sam gets the police department on the phone as soon as you enter the state of Michigan to ask about the details of the case. By the time Dean pulls into the school's parking lot, Sam is just about done with his conversation.

"I certainly appreciate it. ... You got it. Thanks, officer." He hangs up just as you three get out of the car. "So, the last place Ms. Chandler was seen by anyone was in the auditorium. Turns out she's the drama teacher."

"Theater kids. Great," Dean scoffs.

"What? I was a theater kid."

"Barely. You did Our Town, which was cool, but then you did that shitty musical."

"Oklahoma? Hugh Jackman got cast off of Oklahoma."

"You ran tech, Wolverine."

"Shut up," Sam, grumbles.

The principal already knows you're coming but she has a bunch of meetings to go to, so she allows you to find the auditorium on your own. There are young kids hanging a banner in front of the building for the musical they are about to do. You hate fucking musicals. You hope there isn't a case here ad you can go back to the Bunker and waste your life away on tanning and reading shitty magazines.

You walk into the auditorium to see students already working on their production of whatever musical they are doing. Before you have a chance to think, you hear a word you never thought you'd hear again.

"You idjits!" You snap your head to the right to see a young girl dressed exactly like your dad, beard and all. "You, idjits. You three are idjits."

"Hey, ass-butt!" You look to the left and see another young woman dressed just like Cas with angel wings on her back. "Hey! Ass-butt!"

Suddenly, someone plays a few notes on the piano on stage and a bunch of young girls begin their musical number. The song is about Sam and Dean's life. How John and Mary had two sons when a demon came into their room and killed Mary, and how the demon took a liking to Sam. The song transitions into your life with your mom starting at the age when she died. They sing about how the demon chased you through the house and killed your mom down the stairs. Sam and Dean are horrified to hear this but you're grinning from ear to ear.

"Cut!"

A young woman sitting in the audience and her friend run up the stage stairs to address the woman who is singing. You slap both brothers' shoulders with the same grin on your face.

"This is the best day ever."

"What in the h-holy..."

"If there is a case, it probably has something to do with all of this," Sam cuts his brother off.

"You think?"

The younger of the two girls grabs the arm of the director and points to you three at the back of the auditorium. Both girls immediately run off stage and over to you as if she knows who you three are.

"Hi! Oh, my gosh, are you guys from the publisher? I'm Marie, writer/director. This is Maeve, my stage manager. I was just--"

She stops talking when she sees Sam's FBI badge. He looks to the stage and sees the women playing Sam and Dean with their own FBI badges. He quickly puts his away and slaps Dean's hand which is holding his own badge. Dean can't even get his out fast enough because he is so shocked.

"I'm Special Agent Smith. These are my partners, Special Agents--"

"Smith," you answer.

"Yeah, no relation." Marie narrows her eyes in suspicion but Sam quickly changes topic. "We're here to look into the disappearance--"

"There is no singing in Supernatural!" Dean blurts out.

You snicker at his outburst to which he glares at you.

"What? Come on, this is funny!" you giggle.

"Well, this is Marie's interpretation," Maeve says.

"I mean, if there was singing, you know... and that's a big if! If there was singing, it would be classic rock. Not this Andrew Floyd Webber shit--"

"Andrew Lloyd Webber," Sam whispers to his brother.

"What?"

"You know, we do sing a cover of Carry On Wayward Son, in the second act," Marie says proudly.

"Really?" Sam asks in judgment.

"It's a classic!" Dean and Marie speak at the same time.

You roll your eyes, already bored of this.

"Right. Anyways. We're here to talk about the disappearance of Ms. Chandler. Any chance you two saw her before she vanished?"

"Yeah. She left around nine-thirty."

"Any idea where she would be headed at that time of night?"

"A bar? A liquor store? Both?" Maeve answers.

"She had a nasty divorce, last year. Most of the time, she's sipping on her 'grown-up juice', or passed out. Usually, in that order."

"Yeah, I don't blame her. I'm gonna need fifty jello shots and a hose-down to get this stink off of me," Dean scoffs.

"Maeve, right?" Sam jumps in. "You're the stage manager?"

"I understudy Jody Mills, too."

"What?" Dean asks in shock.

"That's great! Jody Mills, that's great," Sam says to his brother before turning to her. "So, how about you give me a behind-the-scenes tour, while your director shows my partners Ms. Chandler's office? Deal?" Both girls nod. "Great. Give us a moment, please."

Marie and Maeve leave you three alone, and you let out a loud cackle that causes Maeve to turn around and glare.

"I'm gonna throw up," Dean shudders.

"This is either going to go horribly wrong or horrible right, and I'm here for it," you giggle. Dean gives you a bitch-face look, and you slap his chest as you pass by him. "Lighten up, buddy."

You and Dean follow Marie backstage while Maeve goes off with Sam in the opposite direction. There is a table of props used for the musical, all labeled and in place. You grab one of the guns and inspect it, not impressed that it's all fake.

"Where did you get all this stuff?"

"Some parts are homemade and some parts are repurposed. All of it, awesome--" She looks over at you to see you touching one of the guns and grabs it from you. "Please don't touch them."

"These aren't even real. How are you going to hurt someone with these?"

"Don't mind her," Dean chuckles nervously. "She's having a bad day." Dean looks across the stage where the imposter Impala sits. Leaning against it are the two women who play Sam and Dean. They're standing a bit too close for Dean's liking. "What are they doing?"

"They're rehearsing the B.M. scene."

"The Bowel Movement scene?" you ask.

"What? No! The Boy Melodrama scene! You know, the scene where the boys get together, and they're driving, leaning against Baby, and drinking a beer, sharing their feelings. The two of them. Alone but together. Bonded. United. The power of the brotherly--"

"Why are they standing so close together?"

"Reasons," Marie shrugs.

Dean understands what Marie is hinting at, and you snicker at the thought of Sam and Dean getting together sexually.

"You know they're brothers, right?"

"Duh! It's subtext."

"You know he and Y/N are married and have kids, right?"

"What? No. I mean, I know she got pregnant but she had Cas get rid of the baby. Man, Dean was so pissed at her for doing that."

"Best decision I ever made," you grin and lock eyes with Dean. "I should have gotten rid of the other two."

Hurt flashes across his eyes but he'd rather not get into that right now. Marie looks at you two in confusion but moves on. She takes you away from the auditorium into a long white hallway where Ms. Chandler's office is. She walks ahead of you to open the door, and you look at Dean.

"She's right. You and Sam would make such a cute couple."

"I'm gonna smack you."

"Don't tease a good time," you smirk.

You three enter the office where there are empty bottles upon empty bottles of alcohol everywhere. Dean takes a sweep of the room with his eyes before settling them on a robot head near the bookshelf.

"Is that hers?"

"No, that's a prop from act two! I've been looking for that, actually."

"There's no space in Supernatural."

"Not canonically, no, but this is transformative fiction."

"You mean fanfiction?"

"Call it whatever you like, but it's inspired by Carver Edlund's books with a few embellishments. As you know, Chuck stopped writing after Swan Song--"

"Yeah, that douche," you scoff and Dean slaps your arm to get you to stop talking.

"I couldn't leave it the way that it was! I mean, with Dean leaving Y/N and living with Lisa? Her being on her own after the breakup? Sam in Hell? I wrote my own ending."

"You want to know what happened after that?" you step closer to her. "Y/N fucks Sam over and over again to get over her sad excuse of an ex."

"Okay, stop talking," Dean pulls you back.

"Try this one on for size. How about Dean and Y/N have a baby while he's still fucking Lisa?"

"Go wait outside!"

"No, she needs to know these things! What about them going to purgatory where she ends up pregnant because Dean can't keep it in his pants?" Dean is already shoving you to the door. "Bobby dies, Sam undergoes angel trials, and Dean becomes a demon!"

Dean shoves you out of the office and slams the door in your face. You roll your eyes and make your way back to the prop table where you mess the props up like a fucking child. You see Sam and Maeve in the sound booth chatting, so you make your way over to them to bother them. Sam looks up from the control board when you enter.

"Special Agent Smith kicked me out so I'm hanging out with you," you grin and sit in between them.

You reach over and touch the control board to see what different buttons do, but Maeve slaps your hand away. You stare at her and Sam waits with held breath to see what you're going to do. Luckily for her, you let it go and lean back in your chair.

"Now, have you noticed anything strange during the production? I mean, any odd noises or--"

"You mean something like this?" Maeve pushes a button on the control panel and a scream sounds. "Or perhaps, this?" She presses another button and a ghostly moan sounds. "Maybe this?"

"Okay, I get it. You know, back when I did tech in school, we had two CD decks--"

"Someone speaks to Maeve over the headset, and she cuts Sam off mid-sentence.

"She's not interested in your nerd talk," you say to Sam.

"I'm sorry, I have to go sign the delivery. Please, don't touch anything."

Maeve scurries off leaving you and Sam alone. Sam doesn't like to be alone with you because he's the butt of your very harsh jokes, so he makes a half-hearted excuse and leaves you alone in the sound booth. Dean and Meave come back from Ms. Chandler's office and meet up with Sam. Marie joins her friend's side as they both sign for the delivery. You reach up and begin playing with the controls, messing with the lights and sounds. Everyone on stage looks at you like you're the outsider in a group of best friends. Sam and Dean look like they're ready to kill you, so you press a button and speak into the mic.

"I'm bored. Can we go? I'd rather pull my own hair out than be stuck in here with a bunch of bratty kids."

Dean glares holes through the glass at you and motions with one finger to come to the stage. 

x

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