#The only young man she's bangin is me! ME!!!!!!!!

[zomboyfren]

As much as I dislike A.nahardt, some ships are so much worse in my eyes

[rom-e-o]

Oof, our little conversation between the boys has got me considering things. Imagine Adonis and Connie double-dating with Bess before she and Wolf finally come together. I doubt it's every date, maybe mostly only on the ones where Bess is meeting with guys from dating apps (I doubt she had a very long stint trying those) or guys she's been set up with. If they don't meet the guy on the first date and he and Bess make it to the third and Bess is liking him, that's a double date, as she wants potential suitors to meet her friends fairly early. They are an important part of her life after, Connie especially. And usually the guy cuts things off quick after that for various reasons.

Just imagine Adonis watching all of these young guys flit in and out of Bess' sphere, most of whom she doesn't click with, the handful she does leaving her in the dust as fast as they came in. It reminds him a bit of Charlie when they grew up, actually. Then turning around and seeing Charlie and Bess together and him just trying his hardest not to wring his brother's neck for refusing to see what he so obviously sees. "These plonkers suck the life out of her and you give it back! And you still don't believe you're RIGHT for her?! You TIT!"

Okay, so ... I kind of ran with this idea. For 15 pages. I've been mulling this over for a long time. I ended up turning it into a little fic, with some additional help from the chatted conversations we talked about the Twins having, haha.

Adonis can see Bess serves better, and decides to take matters into his own hands. sometimes, you need the power of an outside perspective!

All's Well That Ends Well

“Yeah, um, this isn’t going to work, love.” Markus, age 31, at the jazz club.

“Have you thought about a push-up bra? You’d look bangin’ if you showed more skin!” Cesar, age 29, at the boat races.

“What chit doesn’t sleep with a guy on the first date nowadays? Prude.” Brandon, age 26, at the nightclub.

“Look, you’re nice, but … I just don’t think we’re clicking. I’m sorry. I-I don’t want to waste your time. Maybe I can … call you instead?” Ahmed, age 32, at the ice-skating rink.

Bess sighed. He’d never even asked for her phone number, but she let him go without argument. Truth be told, they didn’t have much in common anyway. He was a graphic designer with his eyes on his career. Plus, he had seemed more interested in casual banter than a seriously romantic relationship. A taciturn half-date was all it took to determine that.

“Sure,” she called back with a weak wave. “Be safe getting home.”

“You as well, Elizabeth.”

At least he was kind about it, she thought. That was way more than she could say for a lot of the others. I hope he finds someone he clicks with.

As Bess watched the tall, handsome man slowly skate toward the entrance of the outdoor ice rink, she reclined against the iron railing. Her body sank forward, heavy with disappointment in someone she didn’t even know. It made her feel … silly? No. Defeated? Yes, it felt much more accurate.

Hot tears burned her eyes, and she cursed herself for it. The last thing she wanted after another bad date was to cry in public about it.

“Bess?”

At the sound of her best friend’s inquiring voice, Bess lifted her head, the furred earmuffs jostling slightly atop her obsidian curls. She was met with the sight of Constance skating toward her, arms stuck out ahead of her and her fingers splayed. With her knees knocked inward and her ankles shaking more severely than windchimes in a thunderstorm, she looked completely helpless in a way that even her fashionable brown coat and pink cashmere dress couldn’t distract from.

“H-Help,” Constance squawked awkwardly, sailing forward at a snail’s pace.

The sight caused Bess to forget her tears and literally puff a cloud of laughter into the winter air.

“You’re looking a little lost out there.” She quickly yanked up the lapel of her powder blue coat and blotted a tear away. “Wasn’t it your idea to go skating?”

Constance laughed as she clamped onto Bess and held on. “I-It wasn’t my brightest, I’ll admit.”

The redhead then paused before glancing around, noticing the absence of company. Bess dreaded the inevitable question she knew her soul-sister wanted to ask, but it never came. Instead, she saw Connie looking out over the ice in mute understanding. That, for some reason, stung worse.

“He wasn’t into it,” Bess explained, answering the unspoken question, “And, to tell you the truth, I wasn’t either. We couldn’t find a single thing to talk about, Con.”

“I’m so sorry, Bess.”

“…Con, be honest, is something wrong with me?”

“No!” Her grip tightened as the word surged from her lips.

“You would tell me if there was, right?” Bess asked, the tears threatening to return. Her own legs began to tremble in her skates. “B-Because all these guys keep—”

“You’re putting yourself out there to a whole ocean of fish,” Constance reminded her softly, reaching up to help dab a warm tear away from her friend’s cheek.

“And I’m only attractive to the losers, I guess.”

“Oh, Bess—”

"Ladies?”

The deeper, London-accented voice interjected itself politely into the conversation. The inquiring voice belonged to Ebenezer Samuel Scrooge (nicknamed “Adonis” by the lovestruck Connie), who had just successfully escaped from a young entrepreneur trying to use their chance meeting at the ice rink as a chance to pitch his extremely niche business idea.

Earlier in the evening, he’d been the one to serve as Constance’s lifeline on the ice so Bess and her date could have some time on the double-date to be alone and chat more. However, upon being dragged unwillingly into the earlier conversation, he’d turned around to find his girlfriend missing.

Seeing that she was clinging to Bess’ arm for stability, he initially felt relief, then was hit with a wave of uncertainty. He quickly noted that the young man that Bess had brough on their outing was nowhere to be seen. Not only that, but the ladies both wore twin masks of melancholy. That most certainly wasn’t promising.

“I say, is everything alright?” he asked again, more softly the second time.

Bess tried to nod with her usual spunkiness, but her misty eyes deceived nobody. His face fell at the obvious sadness in her eyes.

“Oh, my dear girl,” he started, but Bess shook her head quickly.

“No, no, no,” she said quickly, blinking her eyes rapidly in a desperate attempt to hide tears. “Please, don’t. It’s fine. I’m fine. I promise you. I-I was just telling Con. We weren’t really clicking, anyway.”

“Uh-huh,” he said slowly, studying her expression. She didn’t seem fully well, he noted. Not as well, and definitely not as casual, as he was pretending to be. “I see.”

“Plus, he was nice about it. Way nicer than a lot of the other guys.”

She sniffled again, despite herself, and Connie’s reassuring grip tightened. “Oh, Bess … what can we do for you, dear?”

“Shall we hang up the skates and go for a stroll instead?” Ebenezer posed quickly. His skill of thinking on his feet in business negotiations occasionally came in handy in other areas of life. “You know, I have an idea! We passed Hyde Park’s Winter Wonderland when the sun was still setting – I’m sure festivities are in full swing by now. I can hail us a cab, and we’ll be there in no time.”

“Ah, that sounds wonderful! Come, why don’t we—”

“No, please, you two are still on a date,” she reminded them, inhaling with a hiss. A date I’m probably ruining for you, she moped internally, knowing that vocalizing that statement would only make her feel even more sour. This wasn’t even the first time this had happened.

“Please, enjoy yourselves. Go, skate.”

Even if she was having a miserable time, the last thing she wanted to do was ruin her best friend’s date with a man she genuinely seemed to like. Even better, he seemed to return those affections proudly and promptly.

She could never forgive herself if her own emotions even played a slight role in sabotaging anything.

“What about you?” Adonis asked in genuine concern. The prospect of leaving someone in a vulnerable state alone amidst a sea of people was unappealing, especially since she was becoming quite a close friend of his as well. He felt compassion and empathy for her.

After all … both he, and his twin brother, had been in similar situations.

She laughed, trying to make merry despite her resignation. “Dates are usually for two people, right?”

“Nonetheless—"

“I just … think I’d like a moment alone,” Bess finally admitted. “Just to think. Breathe.”

Constance tenderly laid a hand on her friend’s shoulder. The look on her face must have been exceptionally dire because Bess snorted fondly at the sight. A spark of playful sass returned as she said, “Con, it’s okay. Thank you for worrying, really … but it’s just a bad date. There are worse things. I’m not gonna go rogue or jet off into the night, okay? I promise.”

The words were delivered with such poise that both were genuinely surprised when she gently unwound her arm from Constance’s embrace and quickly stepped onto the ice. With an artful strut, she set off across the silvery surface like a swan slipping onto a frozen lake, her curls spiraling behind her like inky ribbons. Flecks of ice danced off her heels, sending small puffs of glitter into the night air with each swish of her legs.

“Bess, please wait!” Constance wobbled toward the ice to give chase but was quickly rendered off-balance without anything to lean on. She flailed her arms briefly before Ebenezer swept in and caught her. One arm circled her waist while the other grabbed the railing for added stability.

“Are you alright, dear?” he asked, but she wasn’t listening.

She only stared ahead at the silvery trails that her friend had left behind.

Ebenezer followed her gaze, his mind pondering what to do. After a moment of searching the crowds, he set his jaw firmly, his intention hardened. He urged Constance upright and, still holding onto her, walked her over to a nearby bench located just at the edge of the rink.

“I’m going after Bess,” he said, his hand lofting from her waist to cup her cheek. “I’ll make sure she’s okay. If she really wants to be left alone, I’ll respect her wishes and won’t pressure her, but…”

But he couldn’t just let her go off alone and in such a state, especially if there was something he could do to help.

“I’m sorry to leave you,” he said.

“No, please do,” Constance said, leaning into his touch. “Please check on her. I think it might be helpful for you to talk to her. From your perspective as a gentleman, I mean.”

It was an inappropriate time to color from praise, but he allowed himself the brief indulgence. He nodded, and after one last plea for her to please not try to move, he stepped onto the ice and drifted to the other side of the rink.

All things considered, the outdoor rink was larger in size than one might expect.

Despite being in London’s financial district, which was notorious for hair-wide alleyways and tangled footpaths, a decent chunk of the normally busy roadway had been temporarily blocked off for the short-term installation. The outdoor space couldn’t hold a candle in size to large skate-ways or rinks like the ones at Canary Wharf or Kensington Palace, but it was a lovely novelty for the many wealthy individuals who worked or resided close to the district.

As other couples held hands and skated beneath the archways of twinkling holiday lights, Bess found herself skating to an alcove off to the side. The area was somewhat desolate, its ethereal tranquility only slightly marred by the encroaching shadows of the nearby skyscrapers.

In fact, other than the unavoidable urban sprawl around them, the city had done a good job at making the installation feel festive. Lit sculptures of angels and icy archways lined the perimeter, and the feathery layer of snow perfectly dusted the overhang of wreaths and giant jingle bells suspended above the ice. It was a scene all too befitting of a holiday greeting card.

The spectacle of it all reminded Bess of when she’d watched holidays special of skaters in mink coats and pristine white skates dancing on ice at Rockefeller Center in New York. The setting had looked so … unreal. Like it was a movie set, not a place where real people would skate.

However, she’d never skated at Rockefeller. No, her memories involved her father taking her to a frozen lake back in Ohio, where she remembered him lacing her tiny ice skates and her laughing until her lungs were sore from all their antics. George would keep her little hands warm by caging them in his, and they would spend the entire midday practicing twirls and swoops.

She’d taken to ice-skating somewhat naturally back then, and even on a rink of crowded people, she’d been able to bob and weave through them without issue. The movements brought her no joy, however. Skating wasn’t something she liked to do alone. It wasn’t any fun without a partner.

“Get a grip on yourself,” Bess mumbled under her breath, clutching her gloved hands into fists.

As if the scenario of crying in public wasn’t humiliating enough, she didn’t want to be seen crying in front of her best friend’s boyfriend.

Yet, it seemed fate had other things in store.

“E-Elizabeth!”

The call made her breath stall in her frosted lungs. She turned quickly, operating only on instinct. “W-Wo…?”

No, it wasn’t him. The voice belonged to Ebenezer, who was skating her way, his cheeks (and nose) red from the cold.

That was right, she thought. If it would have been Ebenezar Charles Scrooge (nicknamed “Wolf”), Ebenezer’s twin brother, he would have called her ‘Bess’ without a second thought. The two had met and fostered a strong friendship since Bess’ time in London. They were close, and good friends.

Very, very good friends.

…She’d been so excited at the prospect of it being him that she had thrown logic out the window.

“W-What are you doing?” she asked him. “W-Where is Connie?”

“Sitting down on a bench,” he said with a light laugh. He bent slightly at the waist to catch his breath. “Don’t worry, I did not leave her stranded on the ice.”

“Well, thank goodness for that!” she replied, arching an obsidian brow. “…Did you come to check on me?”

“Yes.”

She sighed, sinking against the railing. “Please. I told you already. I’ve already made a royal mess of way too many double-dates—”

“I don’t recall you making a royal mess of anything.”

“—And now I’ve pulled you away from your actual date to come and coddle me.”

“I’m not here to coddle you,” he said, drifting beside her and assuming a post at the railing beside her. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Bess glanced up at him, her gaze forlorn … but slightly curious, perhaps? Perhaps cautious was a better word. “Eliza—erm, Bess. Apologies. I … I don’t know you as well as my brother does, but I feel like you need to know something.”

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze slightly. “I, erm, don’t know much about courtship or dating, I suppose is what it’s called now. I only dated one woman in my twenties, and it didn’t end as I would have liked it to. Now, with Connie … I find myself remembering what it felt like to be in the company of an admired lady. The way I want to hold and conduct myself has changed greatly, and I want to make sure that she feels respected and happy.”

He swung his head toward her. “When I see a woman like you struggling to find a man that treats you how you deserve to be treated, it is beyond frustrating.”

“Frustrating?”

“Yes. You are the type of woman any half-decent man would love to have as a partner. To see all these immature louts with no positive qualities brush you off as if you’re a leftover cut from the butcher? It’s a disgrace.”

She blinked her eyes slowly. “Y-You don’t think I’m the problem? Really?”

“I know you’re not the problem,” he said, his tone adamant as granite. “My brother would agree heartily with that, just so you know.”

“Wolf would?” Bess asked, perking up a bit. Now she was curious, Adonis noted with amusement. Not that he was surprised. He could obviously see that she fancied him. Constance could as well. As could everyone else in their growing social network. The only thing more obvious than her adoration of him was the fact that he knew his twin brother absolutely pined over her in return, and had for many months.

Perhaps he could get two birds with one stone, he thought.

“You recall me mentioning that I didn’t have much experience at dating, yes?” he started. “Well, Charlie does have more experience. He’s had a few girlfriends, some more serious than the others.”

He treaded carefully, unsure how much Bess knew. There was only so much of his brother’s dirty laundry he felt comfortable airing. When she remained silent, he continued on.

“Well, there’s a reason for that. You see, he always puts his whole heart into each relationship. He wants true partnership, not a fling. Oh, he’ll blush and deny it all day long, but after decades of loneliness, he wants to find someone to settle down with. To love, and to marry.”

Bess’ heart leapt in her chest as the words resonated with her.

“With these other ladies, it was obvious to see their priorities laid elsewhere,” Adonis said. “Certainly not in romance. He would plan lovely dates tailored around the lady’s interests, he would buy gifts … he would lay his heart bare for each one of them … and I watched each one stomp all over it. They always cracked and admitted that it was for the money and would leave. A shameless lot.”

“Multiple women rejected him?” she asked, unable to make her disbelief. How was that possible? She knew he’d dated before – they were friends, after all, so she knew that much – but not that his struggles had been so relatable.

“Yes,” he replied, the word more or a sigh than spoken sentiment. “Every time he introduced me to a new date of his, I knew how it would end. On some level, I think he did too.”

“Then … why did he keep …?”

Adonis’ brow slacked, the wrinkles smoothing and his gaze dipping to the ground. In that moment, he looked almost forlorn. “Who wants to be alone forever?”

He watched as the woman across from him fell silent, angling her face just slightly away. Perhaps it was his imagination, but he thought he saw her nod.

Just as words threatened to fail him, an idea sparked in his mind. Quickly, he turned in the dark to seek out a specific building tucked amongst the other financial high-rises and modern storefronts of London’s financial district.

As his eyes fell upon the set of tall windows belonging to S&C Financials, he saw that the lights in the office were all.

Specifically, the light in the room he knew to be his brother’s office was on. It glowed like a lighthouse beacon in a sea of otherwise black windows.

There was a certain someone that could lift her spirits more than he or Connie ever could.

“I’m sorry, but I have to step away for a moment,” he told her. His hand went to his coat pocket, as if he was fumbling for his phone. “A call, I’m afraid. I’ll be right back! Please stay on the rink, yes?”

Bess let him go with a wave, not paying his excuse much mind. After all, he’d given her many other fascinating points to mull over.

<><><> 

Wolf tapped away at his desktop keyboard with one hand while the other cradled his forehead, his fingers tapping an aggravated rhythm against his temple.

On the monitor was a long list of financial transactions that another London nonprofit had submitted for their review. They were having their expenses audited and had reached out to S&C Financials, who they saw as peers in a sea of red tape and building paperwork piles, for advice as budgeting for the next financial quarter quickly approached. It was a favor, through and through, and Wolf was now paying the price for kindness.

They posed the mystery that their donation withdrawal figures from their online accounts were vastly out of sync, but the accountant swore up and down the numbers from the reports were true. ‘I pulled right from a CSV report,’ they’d added, as if that would help.

For cash donations, yes, he’d been correct. The transfer rate was 100%.

However, for digital contributions, he hadn’t factored in service fees. Now, he was staring at a list of donations with 5% deductions, creating a different between the gross and net totals. The non-profit had submitted their figures based on the gross donation provided, before the deduction was ultimately process out of the overall donation cost.

Most charities enabled an automatic processing fee, similar to a tax, to be applied additionally at check-out as a loophole. This non-profit had not.

“How in the bloody hell did they make such an error?” he asked himself with a sigh. He reread the email and groaned, sitting upright. “Of all the—”

Beep, beep.

The sound of the office’s entry pad recognizing a valid I.D. snapped him out of his frustration. He blinked, checking the clock on his desktop to see if it could have been security making hourly rounds. No such luck – there were still thirty-six minutes left in the hour.

With that possibility null, he slowly craned his neck to peer out through his open office door. “Hello? Who is there?”

Footsteps approached his office, and for a second, he thought that perhaps one of the custodial staff members had entered the space. Yet, the footfalls sounded too awkward and fast. Was someone breaking in?

Just when he thought to maybe reach for a paperweight or letter-opener, a familiar silhouette appeared in the doorway. It was his face, his figure, his appearance entirely, except for shorter hair.

Wolf heaved a heavy sigh of relief, sinking back into his editor’s chair. His blunt fingertips steepled in front of his face. “You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“You must have heard me key in,” Adonis said.

“You never come in on Saturdays anymore,” he argued. “Not since you and Constance started courting.”

“Aw, this that an admission that you miss me?”

“Hardly,” Wolf replied sarcastically, his attention drifting back to the screen. His fingers began to type away at the keyboard again, the keys polished and dented from ample use over the years. “The last thing I need on top of our list of plentiful inquiries is you and our secretary canoodling outside my door.”

He chose to disregard that comment. “Ah, so you’re working.”

“I was, dear brother. Is there a reason you popped in?” Wolf paused his typing, then cocked his lead like a confused pup. “Gods, your nose is as red as a tomato. And … are those ice skates?”

“Yes, actually. From tonight’s double-date.”

“Ah, that’s right, Bess mentioned that,” he said, his demeanor shifting slightly as he spoke her name. “She said she was going one with someone. Never mentioned a name.” Or maybe she had, and he was too disappointed to remember.

“Yes.”

“But now you’re here.”

“Obviously,” Adonis replied, getting impatient. They didn't have infinite time.

“…Constance already dumped you, then?”

“No! She did not – ugh, no, but we did lose someone. Bess’ date. I don’t know the idiot’s name. Who even cares?”

“Wait, Bess’ date … left her?”

Without invitation, Adonis stepped inside and dropped the skates on the floor by the chair in front of the large desk. Small clumps of shaved ice flaked off on the rug, then melted instantly on contact. He sank into the chair, his heavy coat scrubbing against the leather backing, and sighed.

“Stop working and come to the ice rink.”

One of Wolf’s bushy brows lofted. “W-Whatever for?”

He knew what for, Adonis noted, patience waning. “For Bess.”

Realization sparked in his eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Charlie, the woman dashed away from Connie and I to be alone, and I found her trying to not cry on the other side of the rink, all alone,” he said. “She’s bloody devastated.”

The note of silence was also deafening. “She must have really liked him, I suppose.”

“Oh, you are a bloody MORON!”

“What do you want me to do?” Wolf asked, splaying his arms out. “I’m sorry Bess’ date left her.  The man is a moron! But my presence would not help her feel better, I’m sure. I’d muddy things up and make things even more miserable, I’m sure.”

“You obviously don’t know how much she cares for you.”

“There is nothing but friendship between us,” Wolf said, his eyes glinting like the twin edges of a sharpened knife. “Stop pressing it.”

“No, Charlie, and do you know why?” he asked. “Because I stopped pressing the issue with you, and look what happened. You went on date after date with these obvious harpies of women for years, and then took advantage of you and left you in the dust every time. I held my tongue for decades, and I’m sick of it. Especially since Bess is facing those same challenges, and she doesn’t deserve it either.”

“Of course she doesn’t,” he conceded. He couldn’t argue with that.

“Then go down there and be with her, Charlie!” he said. “You want to go, don’t you?”

Wolf looked away guiltily. His affection for Bess had been something he had pushed down for too many months to count. There were challenges, he’d always say, specifically regarding their age gap. She was a young and radiant woman, full of life and energy.

She deserved some young, handsome, lucky young man that could sweep her off her feet and give her all the romantic dreams she desired. She deserved to be courted with flowers and outings by a man who knew she loved roses and browsing local markets. A man who would indulge her love of thrifting and antiques. A man who would make her lunches on busy days at the hospital. A man who would have the courage to propose to her with the perfect engagement ring.

She deserved a man who would want a big family, and to move to the countryside with her for a quiet life with all the animals and pets she desired.

He knew all her romantic dreams and realized with a pang in his chest that he also might be the only man in the world that she had trusted them to.

“You know, it’s a wild concept, but if a girl makes you sight wistfully every time you think of her … you’re supposed to ask her out,” Adonis interjected. “Woo her, yes? You’re familiar with the concept?”

Returning to reality, Wolf flashed his brother another icy glare. “Sammy, if I were 20, 15, even 10 years younger, I would. But, you know as well as I do, youth is no longer on my side while Bess is brimming with it. She doesn't want an old duffer like me. She deserves someone closer to her age. An old, washed-up man like me is not the future a woman like her deserves.”

“Charlie, all these men Bess has been dating and given up on? They were all close to her age.” Adonis reminded him. “The man who walked away from her today looked to be in his thirties, and all the dates prior? Also, in their twenties and thirties. Age doesn’t seem to be a key factor here, Charlie.

“All the young men I've seen give her attention, she doesn't look at ANY of them the same way she looks at you!”

That sentiment gave Wolf pause, his eyes widening in genuine surprise for the first time during that discussion.

“These men,” Wolf started slowly, “She … really doesn’t seem interested? At all?”

“It’s like night and day,” Ebenezer huffed, leaning bag in the chair and crossing one long leg over the other. “These men, they act like boys. Ruffians, even! They’re crude and handsy, or completely ice her out when she tells them that she’s not interested in going straight to bed with them!”

The idea of some brutish stag trying to coax Bess into sleeping with him filled Ebenezar with a potent sense of disgust.  

All the while, his brother continued, “She kicks them to the curb, as she should, but  … she looks so bloody defeated each time. Like she feels like it her fault.”

“Feels like it’s her fault? H-How could…?”

“Bess is an amazing woman. You know that. She’s witty, charming, strong and incredibly beautiful. But she’s also sensitive. Caring. She constantly puts the needs of other people above her own, and she’s humble to a fault.”

Wolf smiled sadly, yet fondly. That was all true, he knew.

“She’s a whole, complex person, not an amusing, shiny trinket. None of these boys can appreciate her. None of them pull out her chair, make her laugh, roll their eyes at her puns, or even hold her hand. None except you.”

Wolf closed his eyes against the final statement, as if he anticipated the blow it would deal to his heart. None of the pain was cushioned.

In a flash, he bolted up from his chair and went to the office window. He peered out and looked down onto the street below, spotting the rink instantly even amidst the darkness and snowfall.

He spotted her instantly, standing alone amidst the other skaters. Her raven hair, her creamy skin, her effortless grace as she stood there on her skates in a sea of pearly white frost.

“…Stop getting my hopes up, alright?” he repeated, his breath fogging the glass from how close he was to the pane. “If she happens to have a … small flight of fancy for me, I’m sure it will pass when she finds a suitor more like her. Bess still has her whole life ahead of her, and I won’t ruin it by interjecting myself into her story.”

“Age isn’t the issue here, Charlie, it’s your stubbornness and self-sabotaging streak. You fancy her too. That’s why you seek her out. Do you really want your stubbornness to rob you of a chance at happiness?"

His fingers gripped the sill until his knuckles turned white.

"Charlie, Bess is different. The way she acts with you … it’s different from the others. She could be the one. You could be each other’s—”

“Even if she’s the one for me, I can’t be the one for her. I care more for Bess’ happiness than I ever could my own.”

“But do you care more for her happiness than your stubborn pride and need to be right?” Adonis asked. “Because the fact is, Charlie, in theory she could have any eligible man in the world, and that includes YOU. And what if YOU'RE the one who can make her happy? What if you're the key factor of her happiness?"

“…It can’t be me.”

“Why not?”

Because it's too good to be true. “It just can’t.”

“Okay, well, I used to think the same thing, and I was wrong. Bloody wrong, and Charlie, it felt amazing to be wrong about being unlovable.”

His brother’s targeted word pinned his body, and mind, to stillness. “... You actually think Bess could... love me?”

“Think it? I believe with every fiber of my being that she could love you. In fact, I believe she does. Deeply. A woman doesn't just learn how to make a man's favorite lunch the exact way he likes and bring it to him at his office if she's just a friend, Charlie. No matter how good of a friend she is. She doesn’t stay day and night with you when you're sick as a dog with the bronchitis taking care of you, risking her own health all the while, if she's just a friend.”

He remembered that. His memories were hazy from the fever, but he’d remember her gentle touch anywhere.

“Charlie, that girl is in love with you. Madly. And she’s right down there, waiting for someone. It should be you.”

Ebenezar continued to stare down at her, unable to look away. Was it really possible, in some wonderful twist of fate that his happiness and the happiness of someone he cared for so much could actually be intertwined?

He didn’t spare the time to think. Without even turning his computer off, he strutted out of his office and to the coat rack near the front door. He practically sent the pole to the floor as he ripped the coat off and threw it on, walking forward all the while.

He only stopped briefly at the stairwell to check that he had his wallet. Once he felt its outline, he pressed on.

After all, he’d need it for the skate rental.

Standing so still was starting to make her cold. Even her thick socks and tights couldn’t keep the chill out for much longer.

Bess glanced around again, checking to see if Adonis was on his way back to her. She couldn’t quite remember why he’d made such a swift exit. Admittedly, she’d been distracted at the time, but she wondered what could have pulled him away from not just her, but also Connie.

“Maybe I should go back to her,” she muttered to herself. “Keep her company, at least until Adonis comes back.”

Then, she could make her own graceful exit from the whole night. She could leave the happy couple to the remainder of date, sparing them any further awkwardness, while she called a cab and went back to the cottage. She could uncork a bottle of wine and soak in a bath. That sounded nice.

After checking the traffic around her, she pushed off the railing and skated into an opening between the other skaters. She sailed down with her head down, keeping pace with the others, her eyes upon the ice as cold air tossed her curls pleasantly.

Her posture did not allow her to see a familiar silhouette follow her onto the ice, then quickly catch up to her because of his long legs. It was only when she saw an unfamiliar shadow approaching that she looked up. Thinking she had accidentally drifted off course and into another skater, she was ready to apologize. Yet the words froze upon her lips like the snowflakes themselves when she felt the stranger slip their hand into hers.

Even in its leather glove, she knew that hand anywhere.

Wolf smiled as their eyes met, and he pulled her from the path of the other skaters and into the center of the rink. There, he led her into a playful spin, twin fingers twined as he lifted his arm and watched her pirouette slowly.

When she resumed her normal stance, she was breathless. And delighted.

“Wolf!” she cried, her smile wide and eyes alit with surprise. “H-How did …”

“I was working upstairs and saw you on the ice,” he said, almost sounding sheepish despite his easy smile. “I … don’t know if you’re still interested in skating. I know it’s getting quite late and chilly out, but—”

“I’d love to,” Bess interjected. She almost cursed her own eagerness, but his own matching grin wiped any doubt from her mind. “I didn’t know you could ice skate.”

“I’m only average,” he said, “Not nearly as skilled as you. It was quite tricky to reach you, you know.”

He chuckled and winked at her as they moved. Hands still clasped, he led the way, skating backwards while she did another playful spin. With their bodies coming together like two dancers in a ballroom, they waltzed upon the ice, their legs moving in perfect tandem. All the while, they talked easily.

“See? You are quite magnificent,” he said, pleased.

“Says the man who can skate backwards,” she noted, arching a brow at him suspiciously. “’Only average’ my butt, good sir.”

“Haha, I can be humble, I suppose.”

“Too humble for your own good, more like it.” She punctuated the sentence with a smirk, and she swore his cheeks turned a shade pinker. Perhaps it was just the cold.

As they danced, Bess chanced a glance over to the bench where she thought Connie might be seated. Her desire to check on her friend was still present, after all. Sure enough, she was there, but Adonis was now by her side. She couldn’t make out the words being exchanged, but Constance looked delighted.

She saw her jump up and pull Adonis into a tight embrace. The poor man had to grab the back of the bench in order to not fall over, but judging from the resonant laughter he let out, he didn’t mind the snafu.

By the time she pulled him into a deep kiss, she reckoned he’d forgotten all about it.

Glancing up at Wolf, she saw he was watching the couple as well. When they kissed, he rolled his eyes and refocused on her, shaking his head slightly.

“Ohhh, don’t be like that, they’re quite the pair,” Bess said. “Your brother is very sweet, by the way.”

“He has his moments,” Wolf admitted with a light laugh. “Do not tell him so. His head is already too full. He’ll start giving you brotherly advice.”

“Aw, come now. Would that be so bad?”

He hummed in thought and leaned in to push a loose curse away from her lovely eyes.

“…Well, I suppose not,” he relented easily.

She stared up at him inquisitively, curious about his sudden tone change. Her gaze held him captive, and hand lingered on her cheek a bit longer than needed. For that moment, the world stilled, and she felt happiness.

Immense happiness. With him.

“No matter,” he said, smiling down at her as he led her into another spirited twirl. “All’s well that ends well, as they say.”

As she stared up at his inspiring blue eyes, for the first time in a long time … she felt like perhaps that phrase could be true.

I had way, WAY too much fun writing this! thank you so much for the suggestion @quill-pen. Adonis is already accumulating hours at the "good brother-in-law" factory, haha. <3

[misireads]

The Breakdown by B.A. Paris

[ audiobook, listened in english ]

on a stormy night, a young teacher is driving home from a party with friends and decides to take a shortcut through a winding forest path, where she sees a lone car parked on the side of the road. she gives the driver a chance to ask for her help but when they don't, she decides to keep driving and goes home. the next day, a story about a woman having been murdered in her car on the forest road is all over the news. weighted by the guilt of not having helped the woman in the car, the main character gradually spirals out of control with increased paranoia as she believes the murderer saw her that night and is now after her as well. at the same time, lapses in her memory make her worry she's on path to having early onset dementia like her late mother, and all of this combined is also making her previously happy marriage fall apart.

➕ yes i'm back giving ms paris another chance, because she was recommended to me. so did i like this better than behind closed doors? absolutely i did, here we have a genuine mystery thriller with all the cosy tropes and a plot with actual tension! i knew this was a superior book from scene one, it immediately set such a strong scene, i was just YEEHAAAW time to buckle in, finally. it's not the most masterful or unique story or anything and has a bit of a lacklustre deus ex machina resolution, but it's the good old thing. with an ending i didn't see coming, too! obviously behind closed doors immediately put me in the mindset of finding the husband suspicious but [spoiler] humouring that the best friend might be the bad guy was just a wild theory of mine, and i certainly didn't suspect two people. i thought it would just be choosing between the husband and the john guy, where either could be the culprit

➕ a spoiler-free plus point, more vaguely: there weren't a whole lot of suspects in here, but i think the story did a good job juggling with those it had and making you wonder which one it is, steering you this and that way as it went. i don't mind simpler mysteries like this because i'm not very smart so it makes me feel like i can actually participate in the guessing game GNDJGNDJ

➕ the main character is almost reminiscent of victorian era stuff, what a Woe Is Me dramatic bitch with larger than life emotions and melancholy. horrible but great

➖ these bitches be speaking all their stupid ass thoughts out loud in these books tho. sometimes you just wanna reach out a hand and put it in front of their mouths like shush…time to shut up. why are you saying these things in this situation. don't you have even a crumb of self-awareness. AND the fact that she immediately jumps into thinking the murderer is also after her (based on… umm… nothing???) because clearly she's such an important person, some real self-important buffoon behaviour. plus never once thinking the culprit could be a woman, not a man. heteronormative self-important buffoon behaviour?

➖ this isn't a massive complaint since i overall enjoyed the story but the pacing was a bit off. the beginning is a bangin' but then when we get to the silent calls and cass's dementia scares, well about half of those could have been halved or cut out tbh. and the SMS part in the end, it was not only some hyper turbo mode exposition stuff which seems to be a common problem in paris's writing judging by these two books, but also dear god, fucking insufferable to listen to in audiobook form LMAO

➖ speaking of phones. how are the characters in her books so dumb about phones? like, we are talking about mobile phones here, right? i had so many questions about the silent call sequences. why didn't she ever call the number back? track down where the calls came from? why didn't she just leave the line open to a forever stalemate/wasting the caller's time until they have to give up? how did she know the caller was a man? why didn't she just leave the phone be and only let the answering machine work when any important person needed to get to her? why do both the house phone and matthew's phone work but magically hers never does so she can't use it????? this all was some real tedious buffalo shit ass garbage plot-convenient turdmageddon stuff right here

➖ probably there was something else but i forgot because the phone stuff got me so worked up. oh now i remember! maybe the dumbest scene i've ever come across in any book (in recent memory anyway). the main character looking at a room, ""sensing"" that something is amiss (but not actually seeing a single thing, not going in to investigate, nuthin'), and proceeding to verbally freak out about it to the point of calling the police that someone has broken in, like, yes okay sure go ahead and have some fucking sixth sense, but did it not cross her mind for even a second that she could, oh i don't know, have like… evidence? to back her words up? and how it looks and sounds like that she doesn't??? i'm just, i can't. that scene was so fucking stupid, it made me second guess whether i like this book after all. like sure she's messed up from paranoia and drugs and whatever but that scene was very much set up as her being like, 100% confidently saying this shit and underlining how sharp she is feeling about it. well if you're so fucking sharp then put yourself in another person's position for five fucking seconds and think how what you're saying sounds like to them i beg you, jesus christ on wheels.

⭐ score: 3½ -- still, i liked it. maybe because i read it after behind closed doors, which i didn't like. so i was just so happy to have a genuine, atmospheric murder mystery to listen to that also managed to surprise me a little.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

HOHOHOHOHOHOHHOHOHO

H O H O H O H O

ITS A YA BOY CHAI. COMIN TO YOU LIVE. W ANOTHER REQUEST. LESSGO.

Hey remember that silly goofy little request from the other night?! What if we got like a part two mayhaps or something of the sorts of Elliot + reader at a party, she’s wearin somethin scandalous, besties bangin for the first time, with prompt numbers 4 and 8 I think?? The “I’ve never wanted to fuck someone this bad before” and “why are you such a tease?” Ones?? Or just one of them!! Maybe a lil exhibitionism?? Up to you!! Thanks bae 😩💞

BESTIEEEE THIS IS HOOOOOOOT. This is so slow burn holy shit; no fucking in this but I encourage you to send in a part 3 request lol. Man you always come up with the best stuff ever. I could never fail you on this one. This man, the things I feel for this character is all coming back dude.

TELL ME WHY THIS IS A WHOLE ONESHOT DUDE THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB LMAOOOOOOO!!!! This is possibly one of the best things I've ever written.

READ PART ONE HERE

"So you're telling me I could be at home right now, eating a tub of ice cream, but instead you had to drag me out to a party?" I ask, flashing Elliot a tired look as he holds the door open for me, allowing me to slip under his arm as his hand rests on my back, helping me as I step into the booming party.

"Wanted to see this dress in action." He flirts but his jaw is clenched as his eyes scan the room, already so protective of me as we step into a new setting. He navigates us into the kitchen, quickly pouring himself a glass of the nearest alcohol he finds. Getting on my tip toes, I press a lingering kiss to his cheek as my hand snakes down his waist.

"Calm down, pretty boy. The night's young." I whisper before pushing away from him, sending him a wink over my shoulder as I make my way out into the living room, looking over the large crowd of dancing teens.

"Why are you such a tease?" Elliot's hot on my trail, reaching out to grip onto my waist, the drink in his cup sloshing around as I spin in his grasp. His eyes are darker, darker than I've ever seen them, as his gaze travels down the front of my dress.

"Because you like the chase." I jest with a grin, taking the cup from his hand and taking a sip as he watches my lips wrap around the edge of the cup. His tongue sweeps out to wet his lips as he pulls me tightly to him, forcing my gaze to flicker around us. "Everyone's looking at me." I smirk wolfishly and I make eye contact with a few of the men swaying in the crowd, their girlfriends only inches away from them.

"I know, it's pissing me off." Elliot mumbles, pressing a messy kiss to my temple and he downs the drink in his cup in seconds. "You showed up with me, can't they get the hint?" He scoffs, the twinge in his jaw telling me that he's not messing around, that the looks that the other men are giving me are truly bothering him.

"What hint? I'm not yours." Elliot gives me a testing look, silently arguing with me but I stand my ground. "They'll never believe I'm not taken- not unless you prove it to them." I offer vaguely, watching a glimmer of mischief pass through his gaze as his eyes move back and forth between my eyes and my lips.

"And how do you suggest I do that?" He whispers lowly, his gravely voice rumbling from his chest, the boyish, teasing nature that he typically holds now completely gone.

"Mark your territory." His brows twitch subtly at the arousal lacing my voice as I step towards him, testing his limits and patience in front of everyone.

"I will make you cum so hard right now, right here, if you don't stop talking like that." His threat shocks me to my literal core, thighs clenching around nothing as a shocked laugh leaves me. My whole body is twenty degrees warmer than it was five minutes ago, my eyes now flickering everywhere but his as I shrink bashfully in on myself, not expecting him to say something that vulgar. Not that I'm complaining. "You got a mouth on you."

"Then put it to use." The words leave me faster than I can control them, my lips parting in quiet shock as I look up at him, realizing there's nothing to blame this on. We've only had sips of alcohol, we haven't consumed any sort of aphrodisiac other than each other's presences- if we go further, there's no going back, nothing to blame other than ourselves.

"Are you offering?" He asks, caught of guard too as he clears his throat, brows furrowed as we both realize that this isn't some sort of playful flirting match that we mutually take part in, no, this is much more than that.

"Are you accepting my offer?" There's butterflies in my stomach as he gives me a stuttered nod and I can see the faintest of blushing rising up his neck and past his collared shirt.

"You really want me to fuck you?" He asks, dipping down to brush my nose with his, our lips practically brushing as I suck in a breath. His hand is now on my hip, sliding down my back and to the curve of my ass, holding me tightly to his chest.

"I've never wanted to fuck someone this bad before." My voice is shaky as my head shakes in shock at my own realization, watching his eyes widen and I look up at him through my lashes.

"So you want to fuck me? Not the other way around-"

"Elliot, for the love of god." I take the cup from his hand and place it on the nearest table and I quickly pull him in the direction of the dimly lit, almost empty hallway, an eager Elliot following closely behind me with his hand in mine.

-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy

@steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e@popehaywardssecretgf @honee-chai-tea @lokiandbuckywife @smoke-and-fire @officiallyunofficialperson@heyaitsklaudia@rosepetalsparks @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx @double-shot-of-tequila @1dluver13xx @colbysbrocks @iamasimpingh0e @loveshineslikethesky @id-3-kbro @diorsitgirl @errorfound101-allideasburnedout @neverwillknowme18 @ellyskey @taylors-folk @loversjoy @myaloveee @thyris-is @lagataprrr @aaaaslaaaan @minjix @luvrosee @storytellingwitht @savageneversaw @admiringlove @witxhy-lexx @starlightandfairies

[fluffbeast7]

My perspective on my routine recently, but putting emphasis on my perspective on getting home. Because iii... want to! (All of this are real experiences, it gets more detailed as it progresses, i just really wanted to write this, for some reason)

-Wake up early

-Prepare for school

-oh god oh no backpack heavy uugh hungry aaarg

- bye bye kappa (my turtle)

-family car time go go go

-iz in school, this sucks. But its my last year so we push through. Adhd got me jingling my pencil with a bell on it, jingle jingle jingle!!

-school ends, now goin home

- first bus stop, hard to get to because i live in a city with so many hills- ouch my back. But we ignore that because songs be bangin

- plus, great time to look at every corner and up to the skies while i walk my way to the bus stop, maybe we see cool bug, there is a spider i always spy on to see how they are doing- rats, and birbs. But sometimes cars almost run over me, because i am distracted, oops.

- now wait for the bus, doesn't take that long, so i watch the pigeons and, i watch every person that walks by, everyone that i see is different, with different features, different moods, sometimes i see people laughing, sometimes i see people cry. not a single one is the same. Sometimes i see the same people, mostly because they work there or take that bus frequently

- i watch as the old man who seems to be blind walk around with cultural clothes from where i live, playing songs very loud. I watch as a kid passes by me with clothing with what it looks like to be japonese writing. I hear people speak in different languages, sometimes i cant recognize what language. different kinds of hairstyles.. some are playing games on their phone, some looking at me and-

-oop! Bus arrived, i prepare and take my card and bring my backpack with my hand, because it just feels better this way

- i see many people entering, i have 2 spots i always take, avoiding sitting down, too many people, kids, older ones, i never know who might need a chair better than me, i am happy to stand, because if i find my spot, everything will be fine

- i choose a song without lyrics and now i am reading a fanfic, the one i have been reading recently is "i see you, sundrop!" And i smile in the bus every time the scene delights me, and i frown when something suprises me, but only a little.

- i still see the activity on the bus, people who work at the mall, young adults talking about their first job, teenagers talking about their grades, couples flirting,, a person asking for money, a guy who happily hops and sings out loud a love song, and everyone looks at him. Teenagers in front of me look at each other and giggle, saying "i wish i was as happy as that guy!"

- now i arrived at the bus station, where i wait for my other bus to arrive. The bus station is where i try to avoid sleeping the most, i go there everyday but you never know the people you encounter (i will never forget the drunk person screaming at everyone, he even got hit by another guy)

- i walk to my spot and i see the same people selling the same things, this guy comes up to me, and tries to sell me a snack, i tell him no, i don't have money.

- i open up the fic on my phone, i am very aware a woman is looking at what i am reading, and i continue reading, even if she might read English. Because i wonder what she will think if she picks up that im reading about robots

- i see a person with multiple LGBTQ pins on their purse, good for them! I see someone reading a book, i see people asking what's the best bus to pick.

- i am invested on my reading, gosh darn this chapter is good-

- bus arrived, i take it, this time not many people take it, so i can sit down without a worry

-the bus has trash on the ground, i ignore it. I continue reading

- i look at the window, hey look! What animal is that? Looks like a reptile, that big, In the city? Wow, unfortunately, i didn't take a picture of that

- i wait till i can press the button, me and a lady come out, i almost fall in a hole, but i continue walking. i can't read while walking, so i change my music to something upbeat, i will be walking for a little bit so i jam to maybe 2 songs.

-i am already very tired, so i don't observe things just as easily- i finally reach my appartment, walking those long stairs and- shit its there that i realize how much my back is hurting

- i get home, change my uniform and pass out in my bed. Oof.

-the rest of the day is always different, but i eat, i giv kappa food, and thats it :)

[uglierdaikon]

Books!

Friends, Romans, countrymen, please, beg no more! For all two of you who have asked, here is my list of my favorite books from my Goodreads of the past year or so (rated, because I have some free time and love having opinions)

·        The Passion of Dolssa by Julia Berry

Rated: 8.5/10

This books has everything!

Peasants

Unreliable narrators

Prostitutes

Ugly people as main characters and romantic leads

A girl who bangs our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ in her dreams

o   Actual summary: This book is split between multiple perspectives (mainly the titular Dolssa and a young woman named Botille), as well as (fictional) written accounts or interrogations conducted by clergymen into the issue of Dolssa, a young mystic being pursued for heresy during the time of the Inquisition. The story follows Dolssa’s journey of faith and attempts to avoid capture, a clergyman’s attempts to find her and execute her, and the experiences of a young woman who finds and protects Dolssa from her pursuers. It’s cool as hell, and it talks about one of my favorite aspects of religious history, female mystics (women who had dreams of speaking to Jesus, or even being in relationships with him. Some people saw them as prophets and holy women, others saw them as blasphemers. It’s a really interesting and complicated topic and this book covers it in such a cool way!)

YA, so she doesn’t bang Jesus on screen. Sorry to disappoint

·        The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring by J R R Tolkien (Jirt)

Rated: 9/10

One of the most bangin’ books of all time. You know it. You love it. If you haven’t seen the movies, go watch them. Or read the books (which I myself am only just beginning). Although personally I’d recommend seeing the movies first because the writing is a little complicated at times and it helps to have a point of reference to fully understand what’s going on, if I’m being completely honest. Once you get used to the writing style though, it's so immersive and the world it creates is simultaneously beautiful, homey/familiar, otherworldly, and frightening. God tier shit

·        The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner

Rated: 7.5/10

Not my FAVORITE thing I’ve read all year, but overall a super interesting mix of historical fiction and contemporary fiction. This book has two timelines: one of an apothecary in the late 1700s who dispenses poisons to women who wish to kill the men in their lives, and one of an amateur historian trying to solve the mystery of these snippets of information she keeps finding about a possibly murderous apothecary who lived centuries before. It’s very cool, and the only reason I put it lower on the list is because I thought the ending dragged on too long. Big fan!

·        The Song of the Jade Lily by Kirsty Manning

Rated: 10/10

Okay so I’m realizing as I write this list that this was just the year of me reading historical fiction like a maniac. Anyways, this is also a split timeline, historical fiction and contemporary fiction novel. The first timeline covers the experiences of a young Jewish refugee whose family fled to Shanghai following Kristellnacht, but are unable to avoid the war entirely as tension and violence builds in China. The other timeline covers the granddaughter of this refugee, who returns to China to try to learn more about her deceased mother’s birth family (as the mother was adopted by her grandparents, the Jewish refugees). It’s less complicated than it sounds, I swear. I’ve been telling everyone I know to read this one, and now I’m telling you guys to read it. It made me cry, which is a big recommendation imo.

·        Circe by Madeline Miller

Rated: 500/10

THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE BEST BOOK I HAVE READ IN THE PAST YEAR

I don’t know if I’ve expressed this enough on here but I am a MASSIVE mythology nerd, and Madeline Miller my beloved is a classical historian and writer. This book delves into the life of the witch Circe (of Odyssey, and turning men into pigs, fame), reimagining her from a black and white villain into someone more sympathetic, someone you actually root for. I will say this book has themes of violence against women and sexual assault, so skip it if that’s not something you want to read about. I absolutely adored this book though.

·        The Song of Achilles, also by Madeline Miller

Rated: 8/10

This is less good than Circe but it’s still good! It’s also YA rather than adult fiction so it’s tamer

This is a love story about the Greek hero Achilles and his friend Patroclus, taking place from the time that they’re children to when they go off to fight in the Trojan War. If you’re familiar with the Iliad, you know these guys. If you’re not… well, I won’t spoil it. But I read this book in one sitting. The writing is amazing, I loved the characters, it’s well-paced. You’ll love it. Give it a shot.

·        Dolores Claiborne by Stephen King

Rated: 9.5/10

This whole book is written as a monologue, which is so damn cool. The whole thing is told as a woman in her 60s confessing to two murders: one that she was actually arrested for, and the other from about thirty years earlier. C’mon, guys, it’s Stephen King. I don’t need to tell you that it’s damn good. You KNOW it’s damn good. I listened to this as an audiobook in my car and I used to think of places to go just for an excuse to drive somewhere and listen to it.

·        Honorable mentions

(aka, I can’t tell you if these books are ACTUALLY good, or if I’m just obsessed with them. I love them though, and that’s enough for them to make the list) (These are both by the same author, and friends who have listened to me clown about these books are probably already laughing at me)

o   Mo Dao Zu Shi, or “The Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation” by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Rated: you would ask me to rate my blorbos?? On this, a blorbo blog?

Oh god. How the fuck do I explain this book. Okay so it’s about magical ghost/demon-fighting warriors in Ancient China. That’s important to know right off the bat. The main character, Wei Wuxian, was one of the most powerful members of his generation, but he was killed for his crimes after essentially becoming a necromancer to get revenge on his enemies and win a war. However, years after his death, he wakes up in the body of somebody who sold his soul in exchange for Wei Wuxian to come back and take revenge on his behalf. So now Wei Wuxian is back, and getting dragged into mysteries and intrigue and the like, all while trying to hide who he actually is. Also he falls in love and it’s great, so happy for him.

This book is rated 17+ and has smut in the back half, so skip this if that’s not your thing

If that’s NOT your thing, I still recommend the animated series or the live action adaptation (The Untamed), both of which have no smut. However, they also leave out the romance in general because of Chinese censorship laws, so you win some you lose some in that regard. They’re both great adaptations otherwise

o   The Scum Villain’s Self-Saving System, also by Mo Xiang Tong Xiu

Rated: the main character is not a blorbo, but truly just feels like a personal friend of mine who happens to be a messy bitch. Still morally obligated not to rate it. Shen Yuan, you stupid whore, I love you

Okay, so there’s this guy named Shen Yuan who is a hater, an anti, an internet troll. He just goes online and leave mean reviews on this popular web novel called Proud Immortal Demon Way. He hates this book so much that it’s like, all he has energy for. All he does is read this book and get mad about it. Terrible. Anyways he hates it so much that he chokes and dies while reading the last chapter, and he wakes up as the “scum villain” of the novel. There is a System that communicates with him (kind of like the instructions of a video game, but sentient). This System basically tells him that he can either make the story better himself since he hates it so much, or he can sit down and shut up. So he has to change the novel from the inside as a character, and if he fails to he’ll die in the same brutal, torturous way that the original character does.

Somebody please read this it’s taken over my life

This is actually my favorite book that I’ve read in the last year, and the hardest one to actually recommend to people because like… read at your own risk.

Warnings for violence, toxic relationship dynamics, internalized homophobia, and uh. Dubious consent in the back half. You’ll know when it’s coming, just skip it if you need to

[wangxianficrecs]

Follower Recs

Stories I haven’t read yet, but clearly need to put on my ever-expanding List.

~*~

Welcome back queen [Thank you, it’s so lovely to be back!] if ur still doing follower recs I gotta recommend I would wait for a thousand years by bleuett it’s soooooooo good

[This one was actually recced to me by two different people, the other of whom said, “ Maybe I'm crying a little so I feel like a should recommend ‘I would wait for a thousand years’ by bleuett on ao3.”]... it’s def. on my List!

I would wait for a thousand years

by bleuett (T, 10k, wangxian)

Summary:  During the worst of winter, a traveler comes to stay at Lan Wangji's inn. He wears a red ribbon in his hair.

“Do you see the rabbit?” Wei Ying asks and points at the moon. “That’s the moon rabbit, he helps make Chang’e more immortality elixir. He keeps Chang’e company.”

“I do not wish the rabbit for company,” Lan Wangji says tightly. “You are the one I want by my side.”

“And I’m here, Lan Zhan. If you go to the moon, I’ll follow you, I’ll always be here now.”

~*~

I just read a great fic by aisthuu "every love story is a ghost story", didn't see it in your recs so wanted to recommend it! LWJ is a guqin composer and teacher, buys a cheap guqin off eBay which ends up being attached to WWX's spirit from canon era. It's bittersweet, LWJ deals with Lan's homophobia (implicit in a Lan way) and his feelings towards the ghost. This is author's only ao3 fic and honestly I don't remember how I stumbled upon it, but I'm happy I did and hope you will enjoy it too!  [I’ve recently read this one, and loved it!]

every love story is a ghost story

by aisthuu (M, 59k, wangxian, my bookmark)

Summary:  The man is in Lan Zhan’s bed. Did they—he begins to wonder, eyes trailing to where the man’s body lies under the blanket. Had Lan Zhan—?

Then the sleep-fog clears and Lan Zhan realizes that the young man isn’t quite opaque around the edges.

“You’re a spirit.”

The spirit narrows its eyes. “I’m so much more than that.”

(Lan Zhan buys a guqin off eBay for a suspiciously low price, only to find that it’s haunted. And now there’s a ghost in his bed.)

~*~

Ok so I absolutely have to rec "see you yesterday" by glyphic. It's a wip, but it's currently at 101k so there's a whole lot there, and it's terrible and wonderful and beautiful all at once. The way the backstory of canon events is adapted to the modern-with-cultivation setting is brilliant, and then there's the amnesia, and then there's the time loop. This fic lives permanently rent-free in my brain.

see you yesterday

by glyphic (M, 101k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  

Wei Ying 21:09 hey lan zhan what’s the weirdest way youve died

Lan Zhan 21:11 Falling encyclopedias.

Wei Ying 21:12 omg no way that’s so rude turning books against you???

Lan Zhan 21:13 A betrayal I will never forget.

On Halloween night, an exiled demonic cultivator and a Lan disciple get stuck in a time-loop, find each other, and try to figure it all out.

~*~

If you are looking for recs for yourself I absolutely love (the complete!) story Just as the Snow Melts by draechali on AO3. It's a canon divergence where everyone lives, even WWX! ~ @airmidcelt

Just as the Snow Melts

by draechaeli (T, 67k, wangxian)

Summary:  Like a snowy mountain top in spring the residents of the Burial Mounds trickled down the mountain and joined the flow of society.

“I went to the Burial Mounds,” Lan WangJi said.

“Ah, yeah… I’m sorry Lan Zhan,” replied Wei WuXian, “I hadn’t thought anyone would come to visit. I am still not sure how it happened; I brought A-Yuan to Yiling to play by the river and then ended up somehow teaching a bunch of children swimming and writing along with him.”

~*~

Hello! It's come to my attention that you have not as yet read Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation! Please do! It's the only thing that gave me joy during 2020 😆 like proper belly laughs and disney villain style cackling. It is a wip, and it is long but so so worth it!! The author has reworked the entire canon through these message crystals and still conveys complex characters despite the tricky format. It's just so good!! Highly highly recommend it! ❤ ~ @theladypeartree  [Oh!  I’ve been subscribed to this one, and know that @swaglexander-the-great is a reliable provider of Hilarity, so I’m excited for it to be finished!]

Grandmaster of Meme-onic Cultivation 

by Hades_the_Blingking (T, 49k, wangxian, WIP)

Summary:  The Untamed universe is exactly the same, except everybody has magical crystals that have a suspiciously familiar messaging system. The story is pretty much the same as the show, except everyone lives!! (so minor changes).

or in which Wei WuXian tries his darndest to date Lan Zhan, Jiang Cheng possibly has a aneurysm, Jin ZiXuan is still the most awkward human alive, and Xue Yang makes me write some VERY cursed things. Written in chatfic format! :3

~*~

Chomrafy on AO3 deserves love and encouragement; she’s written a body of compact, poetic, and eloquent shortfics each of which can stand alone, but that comprise an intricately cross-referential and mostly internally-consistent universe. They’re grouped as chapters in works according to theme; for example, “in cupped hands” focuses upon Jin Ling and his second-generation baggage; “Departure in Autumn” portrays the last years of WWX’s first life. Follow the tag “Chomrafy’s MDZS shortfics.” [I don’t see this tag?]

in cupped hands

by chomrafy (G, 2k, wangxian)

Summary:  Of secrets, of futures, of love. A Jin Ling-centric collection of 200-word fics.

Ch.1: Jin Ling repays a debt (JL, JC, & WWX). Ch.2: Jin Ling and a ghost in the mirror. (JL & JYL) Ch.3: A matter of friends (JL & the other kids) Ch.4: In this house we don't keep dogs (JC & WWX) Ch.5: In the end, he remains silent (JL & uncles) Ch.6: A first night hunt, of sorts (JL & the other kids) Ch.7: Jin Ling, forgiving, forgetting (JL & LXC & JGY) Ch.8: Jiang Cheng and Jin Ling argue (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.9: Jin Ling and his father (JL & JC) Ch.10: Jin Ling speaks up (JL, JC, & WWX) Ch.11: Jin Ling and a piece of home (JL, JC, & WWX)

Departure in Autumn

by chomrafy (not rated, 6k)

Summary:  Four perspectives. A steady march to the end.

Ch.1: Because if anything happens to them, Wen Qing would never be able to heal with these hands again. Ch.2: As long as this is still home, Jiang Yanli will wait as long as she needs to. Ch.3: Five times Jiang Cheng reaches for Wei Wuxian, one time he turns away. Ch.4: Whether the road is broad or narrow, bright or dark, they would have to keep walking. Wei Wuxian digs Wen Qing's grave.

~*~

Hello, hope all is going well. I don't have an ask, by I do have a recommendation. I read this fic a while ago and found it again. I just wanted to recommend this for everyone. Let me know what you think please. Thank you. [Oh!  This one’s in my To Read list, but  I’d forgotten about it.  Mmmm, fox!wwx and dragon!lwj.]

Ten miles of Lotus Flowers

by Yukirin_Snow

M, 274k, wangxian

Summary:  He was a mischievous fox spirit, wreaking havoc where he went, about to depart on a journey that would span centuries.

He was a heavenly prince, a proud dragon destined to ascend the throne to become emperor.

Neither expected their paths to collide over the span of three lives.

~*~

I forgot if it was your blog 😥 that recommended “Bestseller” (when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit) (https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528316/chapters/51318766)

But OMG IT WAS HILARIOUS!!! I LOVED IT!! And if it wasn’t your blog, I’m so sorry for how weird this sounds 😭😭😭😭 I just loved this fic so much that I have to tell it to someone 😢 [It’s on my List, but I haven’t read it yet!]

Bestseller

by pupeez4eva

M, 8k, wangxian

Summary:  He had written the book to prove a point. It was never supposed to be a big thing, and he certainly never intended for everyone — Jiang Cheng, Zewu-Jun, the Juniors, literally everyone— to be reading about his sex life.

Oh God, he definitely needed to make sure Lan Zhan didn’t find out about this.

(Or, when Wei Wuxian writes the Xianxia cut-sleeve equivalent of Fifty Shades of Grey, based entirely on his experiences with Lan Wangji, he doesn’t expect it to become the next big hit).

~*~

I’d like to rec On Your Marks, Get Set, Bake! by @blackwiresgrowonherhead

It’s one of my absolute favorites and I laughed out loud so many times when reading it

on your marks, get set, bake!

by BlackWiresOnHerHead

G, 41k, wei wuxian & juniors

Summary:  Jin Ling resumes thumping on the door to room 721, and the small collection of freshmen starts chanting “Senior Wei! Senior Wei! Senior Wei!” with increasing volume until finally Wei Wuxian opens the door.

“Yes?” he says with his widest, most innocent eyes.

“Senior Wei!” demands Lan Jingyi, shoving himself to the front of the group. “Why didn’t you tell us you’re a contestant on this year’s season of The Great Gusu Bake Off?!?”

--

Several months ago, college student Wei Wuxian secretly competed in the most popular reality show in the country. The show starts airing in the fall. The freshmen in his dorm collectively lose their minds.

~*~

If you're in the mood for v. short ridiculous fun fic, may I suggest My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio by x_los It's 2k modern cultivators AU, featuring WWX calling LWJ's sword Bitchin' [omg I’m laughing so hard] and I think it's more fun going in blind?

My chain hits my chest/When I'm bangin' on the radio

by x_los

T, 2k, wangxian

Summary:  Lan Wangji finds he doesn't even need to call for help for Wei Wuxian to come running.

[vermillionflames]

part 2

nozel x oc

word count: >2k

warnings: language

I loved the beach. And the sun. I grew up in a dark castle and the sky was always grey, cloudy, and it was always fucking cold. I would sit in front of the fireplace dreaming about beaches and summer and anything else books would describe that was the opposite of winter. I also had a bangin’ body, and since my darling husband wasn’t vacationing with me, I ditched the conservative swimwear he purchased for me and threw on the smallest bikini I could find. 

 Noelle had joined me on the castle’s private beach. She had brought a book with her, though I could tell she was too busy feeling anxious to be reading. If this girl’s hair wasn’t already white as snow… 

“Noelle,” I sat up in my recliner, “Why don’t we work on your control?”

Her head snapped towards me.

“Why?”

“Because Nozel tells me you suck. And honestly, I like how you’re doing your own thing besides what your family says, but I cannot take anymore of his ranting. He’s annoying the hell out of me and since I can’t tell him to shut up I’m going to fix the problem at its root.”

She was absolutely dumbfounded.

“But nothing works. I’ve tried everything.”

“Ah, but you haven’t tried method a la House Grinberryall yet.”

“Grinberry… what’s that?”

“Nothing!” Oopsies. I move to her recliner, crossing my legs and facing her.

“Just sit like this, yes good. Keep your back straight, no one’s around here. Okay now, close your eyes. Put your hands on your knees or something to relax.”

“This seems foolish…” But she did what I said anyway.

“But it works. No concentrate on your mana and how it feels. Keep your breath steady. Good, do you feel it?”

“Feel what?”

Both our heads snapped towards the direction of the voice. A chill went down my spine. The aura was literally sucking out my energy and I was terrified for a split second before I realized I had to prepare to defend myself.

“What are you girls doing out here anyway? Planned a trip without me? I know neither of you could make it to my neck of the woods but surely you could have sent an owl.”

God dammit. Making her way over to us was Mereoleona. The one person we were hiding from. 

“Oh, well you see, this is a family trip…” I stood up in hopes to stop her from getting closer. It did not work.

“But you are the only two here?”

“No one else wanted to go?”

“Well, I’m here aren’t I,” she promptly took my spot next to Noelle and put her arm around her neck. “So, what were you feeling?”

“My mana…” Noelle looked to me for help. 

“Meditating isn’t going to work for someone like you; you need tough love training. Here, come with me,” She stood up dragging the poor girl by her arm, “I’ll throw you into a volcano and then you get out.”

“Actually,” I got in the middle of them, “Noelle is in my care right now and Nozel would be really, really mad if I let her out of my sight.”

“So you come with us. Easy.”

Why is she yelling?

“Um… I can’t do that. Volcanoes? Not a good idea for me right now.”

Mereoleona cocked her brow at me, Noelle’s jaw dropped. I can never escape it can I?

“Not like that! Ew!”

“Having babies is ew???”

“Noelle, sweetie, why don’t you go over there and practice what I taught you while I talk with Lady Mereoleona.”

“But I want to know about the baby!”

“There is no baby!”

“Noelle you should listen to your big sister… Having babies is ew. And, there is no way your brother would have given her one.”

“Nozel has to give you the baby?”

“Oh? Seraphina hasn’t taught you about this yet? I wanted to train you but this will also be worthy of my time.”

“Don’t you dare tell her anything.”

“Well, somebody has to~”

We spent the next few hours bickering. Eventually we all settled into our own thing. Mereoleona complained the water wasn’t hot enough. Noelle complained about the sand. I complained about the lioness finding us… and the lack of wine.

When the moon rose we moved into the castle's private bath house. Noelle left shortly to go to bed (but we all know she went to go practice what I taught her).

“So, did you bring her here to hide from me or is it because she got her grimoire?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mereoleona. We just both needed some sun.”

“Okay, say what you like… I won’t tell anyone your little secret.”

“I appreciate that,” I rolled my eyes.

“I’m going to head to bed. I have a long day of dealing with my family tomorrow.”

Well, I hope Kirsch is especially flamboyant and Leo is extra loud then.

“Goodnight!”

I glared at the other side of the pool. At least it was her, I guess. Nozel would have my neck for kidnapping his precious baby sister, training her, and letting Mereoleona tell her about “babies being ew.”

I made my way to my room too. Mereoleona was knocked out, I could feel, and Noelle had gone to sleep annoyed that meditating hadn’t made her strong. Well, maybe if you practice more… 

I got into bed and turned towards the window to watch the moon. I hope I don’t have any dreams tonight.

----

“Lady Seraphina,” I woke up to my name being called, “Ma’am breakfast will be ready soon. Do you need me to get your gown ready?”

I swatted my hand at the air.

“Leave me be. I’m fine.”

I could hear the door shut so I nuzzled into the covers more. Get my gown ready for me, what was I? A child? I will get dressed when I want to, by myself. For now I’m gonna lay in my bed, naked, and sleep. Wait- Why was there a servant here?! I specifically told Noelle… Maybe Mereoleona brought them. Okay back to sleep. Wait, she would not do that. Oh shi-

Before I have time to open my eyes and fully process my panic, a swoosh rips my blankets off my body. I curl into my body due to the cold air hitting my skin. Nozel throws the blanket onto the floor and crosses his arms, glaring at me. I gulp.

“Hi.” 

“Good morning, Seraphina.”

Maybe he’s not mad…

“So, what are the chances of getting that breakfast in bed?”

“Get up.”

Wishful thinking.

“Nozel-”

“I don’t want to hear it,” he turns away from me, “Put some clothes on.”

“Don’t punish Noelle for something I did.”

He turned around again.

“Mereoleona said it was her doing.”

Oh no. Oh god, what do I do now?

The door bursts open and in walks Mereoleona… with her brother behind her! I’m naked and very, very afraid. Thankfully Nozel is quick and makes a mercury wall around me. 

“Do you mind?”

“I’m just letting you know she’s innocent. And preventing her from saying anything dumb. She does that a lot, did she hit her head really hard?”

“Sister, we shouldn’t intrude on them and-”

“Aren’t you a little spurious about Nozel’s prize, Fueggy? He has the hot wife and you’re… boring. You might beat him at everything else, but your rival won with the marriage contest.”

“Because it was arranged.”

I rolled my eyes so far back I saw my brain. I felt Nozel get ready to argue.

“Oh my god, can you all just leave,” not that they could see me, but I was giving them the death glare. A bunch of adults acting like children arguing over a rivalry, I think rivalries are stupid. You would think grown men would let go of jealous feelings they had for each other when they were children, but noooo.

Once it was Nozel and I alone again he dropped the wall.

“That is why we wear pajamas. Honestly, how many nightgowns and robes do I have to buy you before you start wearing them?”

“I don’t see the problem with it, Noelle and Mereoleona saw me naked last night in the bath, the servants help me get dressed all the time, and it’s not my fault the Vermillions knocked down my door.”

“Get dressed.”

“No.”

“What did you say?”

“I’m staying here. I need to be away from you,” I hop back into bed, “Thanks for the concern though.”

“You’re coming back with me even if I have to drag you.”

Pfft, uh no.

“That would be too much work for you, husband.”

“Noelle isn’t being as ridiculous as you.”

“Probably because she’s better than me. You just have your head too far up your ass to see it.”

“I beg your pardon-”

“Honestly, what would Acier say if she saw you right now? Do you think she would be very proud of whatever it is you’re doing? I don’t think-”

He put his hands on my shoulders, his face inches from mine, I held my breath.

“Do not,” I probably went a step too far, “ever bring up my mother again.”

I am very aware of how naked I am, how little this man has been this close to me while I’m naked, and I am filled with guilt of bringing Acier into the argument.

“Nozel, I didn’t mean,” I gulp, “I just think you don't have to be so mean to Noelle.”

“And I think you should stick to what you’re good at, which is being Vice Captain and staying out of my family affairs,” He let me go and turned around, “Take your time, but you’ll be expected at the squad meeting at noon. I’ll make sure Noelle gets home.”

And with that he left, but the tension lingered. So Acier struck a nerve. Note to self, bring up something else during an argument. 

----

I hate meetings. I’m always expected to say something brilliant or encouraging. I always bull shit my way through them, but this time Nozel was sending me heavy energy. I had better do my best or he’ll be even more upset and god knows what he’ll do. Give me a shitty mission or make me go have tea with the Silva women, probably. God, did I conversing over tea.

Luckily it went by quickly and I seemed to have done a good enough job because I wasn’t bothered the rest of the day. I was supposed to be looking over mission requests and reports, but instead I was reading one of my old diaries. I did this as punishment to myself, because not only was I embarrassing, I was also stupid in love with Nozel and let this book know all about it. 

The first entries were about Lady Acier and my infatuation with her. I hung onto every word she said in those days. Then Nozel slowly became the center of my attention. Before he was cold, we would sit and talk about how we’d grow old together. I had a list of our children’s names we picked out together. There were sketches I made of the wedding dress I wanted, which I got, dried petals from flowers he had given me… What I would give to be the young again. Actually, I aged pretty nicely. I just want him to be warm again. And happy. 

A paper on my desk caught my eye. It was a list of potential new members of royal or high nobility. I scanned over it. Noelle’s name wasn’t listed. So he was serious about that too?

“Nozel, what will it take for you to stop keeping your emotions locked up?”

[whimperwoods]

Still thinking about that names post from earlier so here’s some Name Lore for Anna and for Gozukk’s tribe:

Anna informed me of her name. I realized around chapter 6 that there could be vague parallels to The King And I/Anna and the King of Siam, which I’m not best pleased by, but it was too late by then and also it IS her name. Kind of. It’s actually a shortening of her full name, which is elvish, but she stopped using the whole/real thing to seem more human. Her unshortened name will be revealed eventually, and I know exactly how but don’t yet know when because oh man I keep getting surprised. Unclear if she’ll start using her full name or take a new nickname, but right now it feels unlikely? Azzor will be calling her Gmeling for the rest of her natural-born life, but it is not yet clear if this nickname will be used by anyone else.

The orc tribe has a particular naming convention whereby syllables are added as a person ages. Orcs age a little faster than humans, but not so fast that when they get their second syllable some time between 10 and 12, they count as full adults. Rather, the second syllable is an indication that the child has proven themself to be responsible and mature. Young people with 2 syllables have already been working (in a chores/pitching in/all hands needed way, not a 9-to-5/child labor way) but once they are accepted as mature, they start learning about specific roles they might take and the specific training those roles might require. They are trusted to make their own decisions about where their skills are most useful, what they can do on their own and what they need help with, and how to collaborate and prioritize activities with other people.

Obviously, these are tricky skills to learn, but 2-syllable kids get to start taking more responsibility for themselves and having more autonomy as they grow toward adulthood. They are also included in whole-tribe discussions and decisions, which aren’t terribly common but are generally quite important. A 12-year-old’s opinion won’t carry as much weight as a 30-year-old experienced tracker’s (etc) but they’re considered mature enough to be present and included. The second syllable name itself is chosen by the child, but in collaboration with parents, siblings, close friends, and mentors. It’s not uncommon for kids on the cusp of coming of age to be trying out new names in half-whispers and/or in intimate spaces with just the people they’re closest to.

3rd syllables are reserved only for elders, and they generally take their third syllable in their 60th year. Between the challenges of their environment and the ever-present danger that they might be attacked by neighboring groups who fear them or travelers who hate them, most orcs hope but don’t assume that they’ll live to see their third syllable (it’s a thing they think about as happening someday, but not a thing they plan for like people plan ahead for retirement). The claiming of a third syllable is accompanied by an extensive celebration of the person’s life, accomplishments, and character, but also by a reaffirmation of the tribe’s responsibilities toward each other. The new elder promises to provide wise council and to help teach the young and pass on their knowledge. The rest of the community promises to care for them and support them for the rest of their lives, in honor of what they have done and will do, and in honor of the love that binds them. (They would take care of them anyway but sometimes you just have to say these things aloud.)

The three-syllable name is generally chosen only by the elder themself, but it’s also sometimes a collaborative process with particularly close friends. If Azzor and Gozzuk and/or the twins make it to age 60 together, they’re likely to collaborate in their choices, which is always a sign of a particularly bangin’ party to come when their birth season rolls around.

Final major subpoint, Djaana’s name came to me whole cloth, which was quite irritating because it 1) is not dissimilar from Anna, and 2) starts with a sound that we kind of do and kind of do not use in English, the only language I speak with any fluency. Thanks, Djaana? It’s one of those sounds that some other languages make distinctions about, but I don’t know which languages and English just slaps a j or g on and moves on. One of them middle-of-the-mouth affricates or maybe fricatives that I know some folks have more of in their language than me but other folks have fewer of and I have no idea who for either category.

As far as the kids’ generation goes, Jak’s bestie Emve is two years older and got his second syllable quite early. Jak’s looking likely to be a late name-bloomer. The “twins” got their second syllables a little over a year apart from each other, and there’s just… a lot there. Enz was not thrilled to be behind her cousin, but she had a lot of other things going on, too, and it was just… a lot. Unclear how much of that time will come up in conversation and how much won’t, but maybe I’ll write something at some point. Mel is just a babe and nobody knows yet, nor will for a while.

(Ok fine one more note/point:)

(Generally feminine names end in a vowel and masculine names in a consonant, but that only applies with two or more syllables, and there are a handful of sounds that are like… IS it a consonant or a vowel?? Could be both?? Like sure it’s a consonant but it’s not THAT consonanty and anyway nobody’s keeping score, they can pick what they want to pick. It’s a convention/general habit and not a rule)

(They have symbols for almost-but-not-quite-an-n and almost-but-not-quite-an-r that are popular not-fully-traditional choices for name endings)

(Also don’t think too hard about how Djaana’s name worked when she was younger, I don’t know and I won’t work it out probably? The syllable thing started emerging/developing after a few characters already had names so it’s not perfect. But it’s also flexible enough as a system to accommodate. Jak could put the Jak part at the start or end and if Mel wanted to add to the front but she both felt strongly girl and wanted to be traditional, her name could just end “-me”)

[technicolor--dreams]

The object of her affection - chapter 4

chapter 1 here

chapter 2 here

chapter 3 here

After two exhausting miles under the scorching july sun, Susan finally made it to the bus station. She dropped her luggage on the ground with a thump, and sat on a bench. Oscar woofed from inside the leather bag and stuck his little tongue out, his beady dark eyes begging for some refreshment. Susan pulled out a bottle of water and a bowl from one of the luggages. She took  Oscar out, and after she filled the bowl, he drank excitedly, wiggling his little tail left and right.

According to the schedule on the far wall the next bus from New Haven to New Bedford, where the ferry would sail to, would be in another hour, at around twelve-thirty. She sat Oscar back inside his bag, pondering what to do in the meantime. She looked over at the cafe next to the tickets office, but she decided she was too nervous to eat. Besides, she had her own ration of food and drinks already. Noticing a newspaper on the other side of the bench, she picked it up, and began flipping through it without much interest. After having quickly exhausted her favorites - the Arts and Leisure, comics, and Lifestlye sections, she moved to the World news and Economics pages. Somewhere between the Irish General election, and Hindenburg accident consipracies, though, she began losing focus, and between the summer heat and her own exhaustion, she started dozing off. She would have fallen asleep like a log, If she hadn't been roused quite suddenly by the sound of tinkling brass bells, followed by a high-pitched squeal.

Susan shook herself out of her reverie just in time to see a tan colored shadow running away in the distance, skirting between a befuddled elder lady's legs to follow a tall man carrying a travel bag.

"Oscar!" She shrieked, dropping the newspaper on her lap to chase after her beloved pet. "Somebody stop that dog!"

She zig-zagged through the crowd, yelling to no avail. Oscar wouldn't listen, and the crowd even less so, everybody too busy getting to their destination to pick up the stray dog.

"Hey, you, Sir! Tall man with the bag! Stop!"

Susan continued her chase for what felt like a lifetime, but was probably a little more than a minute, until the man reached the platforms area, stopping in front of a shiny, green bus.

"You!" Susan mustered all the breath she had left, resting one hand on her left hip, and pointing her finger his direction.

He turned around, knitting a pair of sandy blonde brows that matched his wavy hair.

Susan drew out a breath, getting closer. "You know how long I've been following you?"

"Well, I can't say that I'm not flattered -" the man began speaking, before realizing that Susan wasn't talking to him, but to somebody else. A Somebody that at the momently was most definitely chewing on his bag.

"Hey, get off my bag!" he pulled the dog by his sides, trying to get his grip off the leather, only to get bitten in the process.

"Ow!" he yelped, retreating in defeat.

"I'll take care of it." Susan said matter-of-factly, before crouching down. "Oscar, be a good boy now. Get off the gentleman's bag and I will give you a big, fat, cookie, uh?" she said in a soft-spoken manner.

Oscar didn't budge.

"Fine, two. Last offer."

Oscar growled, slowly letting go of his grip. Susan picked him up and cradled him in his arms.

"Cheeky! How many times have I told you not to run away!" she admonished him.

"You oughta put him on a leash. It's not safe." the man spoke up, rubbing his hand.

"I could never do that to him," Susan said, petting Oscar tenderly, "he's meant to be free. I would be no less animal than him if I restricted him like that."

"He's an animal alright. Look what he did to my hand!" he raised the offended appendage. "Not to mention the bag."

The bag in question now sat on the concrete pavement, slighlty slumped on the side, a couple of bite marks evident in a corner dripping with dog drool.

Susan raised her eyes from the bag, taking a better look at the man. He couldn't have been more than twenty-five, and at least six foot two, if her estimation was right. With sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, he had the homely appearance of your typical corn-fed, all-american male you would see on advertisements. He could pass for handsome, she supposed, If you squinted your eyes, though he had nothing on Joseph. His jaw was too squared, his nose not aristocratic enough, his figure too broad. He lacked any kind of sophistication, in short.

"I don't know what's gotten into him." she explained, "He never behaved like this before. It must have been that bell on your bag that set him off. He's very sensitive to noises."

"I suppose the biting is just a fun bonus." the man deadpanned.

Susan was about to retort, when something stopped her in her tracks.

"Mr. Murphy!" a male voice called from the bus.

Susan and the man turned around at the same time. An elderly gentleman sporting a bowler hat and monocle was peeking out of one of the bus' windows, a scowl on his face.

"Yes, sir?" Murphy replied.

"What's taking you so long? I don't have the whole day, young man! This bus is leaving in ten minutes."

"I'll be righ there, Mr. Sullivan." Murphy said, showing his pearly whites.

Mr. Sullivan retreated back into his seat, muttering to himself.

"So, that's not your bag." Susan winced.

Murphy shook his head. "No."

"Oh."

"You better hope Mr, Sullivan doesn't see that."

Susan tilted her head "It's not that visible."

"It's not not invisible, either."

Their conversation was interrupted once again by Mr. Sullivan, this time bangin out of the window with a cane.

"Hey! I'm not paying you to pick up dames! Let's go!"

"Yes, Mr. Sullivan." Murphy said, finally picking up the bag and stepping onto the bus.

Susan watched the window as the two men talked a bit inside the vehicle, before Murphy put the bag on the suitcase compartment.

"Did he notice?" she asked, once he was back.

"No, thank God, but he will soon. Let's go before he does." he took her by the arm and led her back inside the station. "By the way, where are your bags?"

Susan stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in horror. "My bags! Oh, my God, I completely forgot about them! You don't suppose they got stolen while I was away?"

"I don't suppose. I know."

Susan sprinted away just as she did before, this time with Oscar safely tucked into her arms and Murphy following them in tow.

Just as she suspected, the bench where she had sat up until a few minutes before was now empty, save for the newspaper she had been reading and Oscar's tin bowl.

Susan dropped Oscar and sank on the bench, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her face with both hands. "This has to be the worst week of my life."

"Oh, cheer up." Murphy sat beside her ."Your life ain't half over yet. There might be worse weeks coming."

Susan turned around to face him, "You have a very twisted sense of humor, you know that?"

"But it keeps me going."

"You know, this is all your fault."

"Mine!?!"

"Yes," Susan poked him in the chest. "Yours. If you had just stopped the first time I called you -"

"Wait a minute! I though we already went over this! You left your dog without a leash. It's on you."

"But you held me up."

"Ever thought about getting a parakeet, or a nice goldfish?"

Susan arched an eyebrow in his direction."You like giving an awful lot of advice, for someone I don't even know."

"That's easily fixed." Murphy conceded, holding out his hand. "I'm Connor."

"Susan." she replied, but she didn't shake his hand. Instead she turned her head, looking around conspicously. "You think he's still here?"

"Who?"

"The gentleman who stole my bags."

"I'd hardly call him a gentleman. But, no. "

"That's just perfect. I got no money, no clothes. No dignity." Susan pouted.

"Say, where are you going?" Connor asked.

"Martha's Vineyard."

"I could give you a ride if you wanted."

Susan furrowed her brows. "Why?"

"I'm a taxi cab driver. I have to get the old clunker back in New Bedford – I can drop you at the port on my way."

"I could still go by bus, you know. I've got ..." she took out a few pennies out of her skirt pocket and began counting. "fifty cents."

"I hate to burst your bubble, but that will only cover you for the bus ride."

"Not if I can manage to pass myself off for a twelve years old."

Connor shook his head. "Would you really rather spend six hours on a smelly bus packed with sweaty European tourists, than spend three hours with me?"

"Three hours?"

"Hmm hmm. I can have you on that Ferry by four."

Susan pondered what do. The stakes were too high to hesitate. Oh, What the hell, If she had to hitch a ride to get to her destination as soon as possible, so be it. What was the worse that could have happened?

"We have a deal."

[clumsyclifford]

hello bella! i hope you're having a wonderful day! i would love to know what your ultimate 5sos and All Time Low live show setlists would be??

omg HELLO kara, i’m sorry it’s taken me so long to answer this!!! it sparked a lot of Thinking. i actually had an existing dream atl set list that already existed from prior to the basement noise shows cos i wanted to see how well it would line up with the boys’ selections for the setlist shows but since you sent this it occurred to me that my tastes have changed so i went and edited AND i created a dream 5sos set list as well. and they are both linked respectively below

according to mandie, a typical set list is 18-20 songs, so i’m going based off of that information. also it’s my dream set list and i do what i want

final note these are subject to constant change since i change my mind like a girl changes clothes blah blah etc

all time low;

weightless  (god just IMAGINE.....the ONE chord.........then the lights come up......oh man)

last young renegade

getaway green (it’s track three so it gets to be third in the set list)

just the way i’m not

damned if i do ya (damned if i don’t) (ISNP version) (all NP songs are ISNP versions on here)

a daydream away

bottle and a beat

don’t you go

pretty venom (interlude)

too much

good times - orchestral arrangement (it’s my set list and i say we get orchestral good times!!)

poppin’ champagne

everything is fine

holly (would you turn me on?)

glitter & crimson

chemistry (this is the only non-spotify song on here but i just COULDN’T exclude it. it is one of their best songs honestly)

coffee shop soundtrack

let it roll

afterglow

vegas

5sos;

babylon (i know it’s kinda cheating since they already started myt live w this but god. what the fuck else could you start with)

english love affair

vapor

story of another us

disconnected

who do you love (no i will NOT accept hate, this song absolutely fucks and they sound amazing)

valentine (yeah.)

empty wallets

if you don’t know (i don’t have this song on spotify but once again, it is literally one of their best songs and i can’t just Not include it)

why won’t you love me

lie to me

beside you

san francisco

the girl who cried wolf

want you back

thin white lies

the space between a rock and a hard place (the RIGHTS for sgfg b-sides......)

what i like about you (i was and still am between this and the american idiot cover they are equally bangin in my mind so. you know)

she’s kinda hot

long way home

[thebrownssociety]

Looney Tunes - Flash Bang Wallop/Half A Sixpence

I know this is totally random, but whenever I listen to music I can’t help choreographing characters to it and so I want to leave you with this...

The Song ‘Flash Bang Wallop’ from the musical Half A Sixpence, but with the Looney Tune Characters. 

Now unfortunately, despite research I can’t figure out which character from the musical is singing which bit, so have just copied and pasted the lyrics. I do not own these lyrics, I think David Henekar does.

I also do not own the LT’s, nor have any association with Warner Bros. [Aside from a deep admiration.] I have got the lyrics by a mix of the internet and listening to the song on my ‘Musicals’ CD. 

Cast: 

Elmer - Photographer.

Bugs and Daffy - the two main guys. [Not sure of names]

Everyone else - just there to cause as much mischief as possible. 

[The Looney Tunes Characters are all standing in a group. They are all dressed in formal attire.] 

Elmer [Spoken]: If you’d like to get in line!

Bugs [spoken]: Let’s do as he says, I want a proper photograph as a momento!

Elmer: Ladies and Gentlemen - please!

Bugs: All lined up in a wedding group 'Ere we are for a photograph

Daffy: We're all dressed up in a morning suit

Both: And we’re trying not to laugh

Elmer: Since the early caveman in his fur Took a trip to Gretna Green There's always been a photographer To record the 'appy scene

[Spoken] Hold it!

Bugs: 'Old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a picture What a picture, what a photograph Poor old soul, blimey, what a joke Hat blown off in a cloud of smoke Clap 'ands, stamp yer feet Bangin' on the big bass drum What a picture, 

All: what a picture Um-tiddly-um-pum-um-pum-pum

Bugs: Stick it in your fam'ly album!

Elmer [spoken]: Hold it! [going to the old-fashioned standing camera] I need one more picture please! Hold it! Now everyone say ‘cheese!’

All: Cheese!

Daffy: The same thing 'appened long ago When man was in his prime And what went on we only know From the snaps he took at the time When Adam and Eve in their birthday suit  Decided to get wed As Adam was about to taste the fruit The man with the cam'ra said...

Elmer: [Spoken] Hold it!

All: 'Old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a picture What a picture, what a photograph

Daffy: Poor old Eve, there with nothing on Face all red and 'er fig leaf gone

All: Clap 'ands, stamp yer feet Bangin' on the big bass drum What a picture, what a picture Um-tiddly-um-pum-um-pum-pum Stick it in your fam'ly album

Elmer: [Spoken] Hold it! And lose the silly grin. Hold it - [to Gossomer] I can’t quite get you in. [Gossomer glares]

Sylvester: You've read it in a folio Or seen it in a Shakespeare play How Juliet fell for Romeo In the merry month of May And as 'e climbed the orchard wall To reach 'is lady fair As he tumbled, she began to bawl As he floated through the air

Elmer: Hold it!

LT’s: [Hold the note]

Elmer: [As stage vibrates and he judders off the side] Not that kind of hold it!

All: Old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a picture

What a picture, what a photograph

Sylvester: Poor young chap, what a night 'e spent Tights all torn and 'is rapier bent

All: Clap 'ands, stamp yer feet Bangin' on the big bass drum What a picture, what apicture Um-tiddly-um-pum-um-pum-pum Stick it in your fam'ly album

[Cheering and dancing]

Elmer: [Running back in with a birds nest on his head] Hold it! Let’s give it one more bash! [Goes back to camera] Hold it! Now watch me as I flash!

[Everyone covers there eyes. Elmer - realising what he’s said - glares at them over the top of his camera.]

Mellissa Duck: [Stepping forward]: King 'Enry the Eighth had several wives Including Anne Boley.  He kept an album of their lives With all their photos in.

 Penelope: As Anne Boleyn was on her knees-

Mellissa: [Glaring at the giggling LT’s] - Dressed in her very best frock! 

Penelope: King 'Enry shouted, "Smile, Dear, please" As 'er 'ead rolled off the block..... ' [Does a dramatic drop tot he floor]

Elmer: [Glaring] Hold it!

All: Ooooohhhhhh - ‘old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a picture, Click! What a picture, what a photograph.

Mellissa: Comes the print in a little while, Lost 'er 'ead -

Daffy: But she kept 'er smile!

All: Clap 'ands, stamp yer feet, Bangin' on the big bass drum. What a picture, what a picture Um-tiddly-um-pum-um-pum-pum Stick it in your fam'ly album

 Elmer: Thank you very much. One more picture, hold it!

Sylvester: When Napoleon married Josephine. There was just the same to-do He galloped home from the battle scene. All the way from Waterloo.

Penelope: And as he came from orf 'is 'orse. To the boudoir where she sat. She said to 'im, 

Pepe: in French of course.

Sylvester: As he took of his big cocked-

All: 'at '-

Elmer: [Makes strangled noise.]

All: Old it, flash, bang, wallop, what a picture What a picture, what a photograph 

Bugs: There she was, with a big Hussar. All caught up in 'er oh-la-la- [While he’s singing this line Petunia steps forward and lifts her dress so it shows her ankles]

Elmer: Oh-la-la!

All: Oh-la-llllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaa -  'Old it, flash, bang, wallop, quick, what a picture, quick, What a picture, what a photograph.

Mellissa + Penelope: What a noise! Though it can’t compete. With the bang in the bridal suite. 

All: Boom, boom, clap hands! Stamp your feet, clap hands, stamp your feet, clap hands stamp your feet. Bang it on the big base drum!

[Dropping volume, the cast start of quiet, but get louder through the next few bars]  what a picture. What a picture. What a picture What a picture. What a picture, rum-tiddly-um-um! What a picture, rum-tiddly-um-um [Getting louder], What a picture What a picture What a picture, What a picture, [Shouted] Rum-tiddly-um-pum-pum-pum-pum!

Stick it in the family! [On this line Bugs and Daffy looked at each other and head over to Elmer, who’s still behind the camera.]

Stick it in the family! [Bugs and Daffy pick Elmer up and carry him over to the rest of the cast]

Stick it in the family! [Bugs and Daffy start applying make-up to Elmer] Albuuuuummmm! Albuuuuummmmm! Albbbbuuuummmm! [Bugs and Daffy step back to show Elme ris now dressed as a clown.] Stick it on the family - album!”

[Cue black and white photograph of the entire cast.]

[mwolf0epsilon]

Susie chests on Sammy and Norman finding out. What does he do?

Susie isn't the cheating kind, so I've got something worse in mind.

Summary: After a rather messy breakup that Sammy had hardly any time to process just yet, Joey Drew makes matters worse by exploiting two emotionally compromised people. Norman finds himself unable to keep his promises.

---

Times like these were getting rarer and rarer, as Norman barely found himself without any overtime anymore. Not with Joey Drew descending further into madness thanks to his poor life choices and zero management skills. So really, he should be enjoying listening to his brother reciting the usual instructions of what to do or who to call in an emergency, or what the kids were or not allowed to eat.

But really, he was tired and wanted to sit in that comfy recliner where he usually spent a good part of an hour reading a book, while his niece and nephew behaved like the little angels they were. It wasn't like he already didn't know what to do anyway, he was a father himself, plus the two were 16 and 15 respectively. They could be left alone, instead of being mothered by their father.

"Alfred, it'll be just fine. Now you run along and gets some work done." He practically shooed his younger brother away, smirking at the rather comical expression on his face. "They is well behaved, no need ta baby 'em."

"They've got their friend over, so don't go thinkin' I don't gotta worry! That brother o' hers is freaky scary for a scrawny cockerel of a man." He made a show of clearing his ears. "Nearly dang blew ma hearin' out b'fore ta curse did!"

"Sammy gots that effect on everyone. Just don't go callin' him a cock ta his face. Then I'll be ta one ta finally lose my hearin'!" Not that his hearing range hadn't begun taking a hit. A mixture of the hereditary defect and being subjected to hours of loud music, shrill instrument tuning sessions, and the constant droning of the projectors. He was lucky to not be completely deaf by now.

"Yeah yeah, I'm off now. Nelson, Lydia! You two behave now for ya uncle Norman! And be good hosts to Abigail, no runnin' about gettin' messy up there!"

"Yes sir!" The two called in unison from upstairs.

As soon as Alfred was out the door, Norman found himself in the living room falling back into the welcoming embrace of the recliner. He swore he might take it up to his apartment one of these days, just not when he was too tired to clamber up to the last floor dragging a massive piece of furniture with him.

Two sets of quiet footsteps on old creaky wood immediately informed he wasn't alone anymore.

"And what are yous up to now?" He glanced over the backrest and smiled at the three teens that had been plotting to catch him by surprise. "Couldn't hear ya this time Nelson. Remembered the creaky ones?"

"I practiced." Nelson smiled, sticking his tongue out at his sister, who huffed in annoyance.

"I don't like being sneaky anyway..." She grumbles. Beside her Abby chuckles but it doesn't reach her eyes which is... Odd. She's a pretty happy kid in general so its definitely strange for her.

But, sure enough, watching her fiddle with that doll of hers that's not quite Bendy, not quite Boris, she seems concerned about something. Fidgety with unrest.

"Somethin' on your mind Abigail?" He prompts. Both his niece and nephew seem to know what's up as they give her a pleading look when she goes to deny it.

The girl frowns then nods slowly.

"My brother's been very upset. I think it's because his lady friend isn't with him anymore..." She hugged her doll close. Still so very attached to it that she was only comforted by having it with her at all times "He didn't say this, but I know it's gotta be that, because he never complains when he's tired or aching, but now he just looks...Sad."

"That so?" It was Norman's turn to frown. Yes, Sammy had been considerably worse since his and Susie's rather confusing and messy breakup. The two had gone from happy excited couple, to a pair of hostile angry messes. But the worst wasn't even the lashing out, it was the obvious sadness the two felt at the unresolved issues they practically avoided.

Jack had related to him his worries that the stress and personal blow would tip Sammy over at any moment.

Wally had in turn said that Susie was acting weirder and weirder and it was honestly scaring him.

Because of course those two lovebirds were so repressed they couldn't even deal with their own emotional baggage. It could only get worse if they ignored it, and it clearly had an impact on others.

Specifically, and right before his eyes, on Sammy's sweet little sister who was fretting over her brother. That wouldn't do.

"It don't surprise me none. Their argument got real ugly... I don't think they wanted ta break it off, but they is both very...Err..." How to say it without sounding crude to a young lady? His ma would murder him if he resorted to cursing in front of a teenager.

"Dumbasses?"

"Lydia!" Nelson elbowed his sister on the ribs, getting a punch to the arm in return. "Don't gotta be rude about it!"

"But I'm right!"

"You ain't wrong, but ya shouldn't be rude 'bout it Lydy." Norman sighed. He looked back at Abigail. "No offense, but your brother kinda is a dumbass 'bout what he feels."

"Sad but true." Abby nodded with an amused look. "I think he doesn't want people to know he's actually very sensitive. My old nanny, Mrs. Harrison, said it was because our daddy taught him all sorts of backwards things about how he had to act. It's a little strange to me."

"Bless ya for knowin' better than ta not be honest 'bout what ya feel then. Can't do no good pretendin' bad things don't bother ya."

Nelson made a face and glanced at Abigail but said nothing.

"Either way... If it's botherin' ya, I could always talk ta Sammy. Might do him good ta vent about it ta someone who's in no position' ta judge."

"You'd do that Mr. Polk?" Abby smiled up at him. This girl was melting his heart like butter out in the sun, bless the heavens for at least giving Sammy one little ray of sunshine in his life.

"Sure would. Now let's go prepare somethin' ta bite. Yous got classes in the mornin' and I got work."

-

He'd missed something big the previous night, that Norman could tell from the moment he stepped foot into the studio. For one, Sammy was nowhere to be seen, and the band was a disarray of gossip. Then there was also the lack of Miss Campbell's presence, with some murmuring she may have finally gotten fired after pushing the wrong set of buttons. And then there were the worried looks on Jack and Wally's faces that greeted him in his booth.

"What in ta name a' heaven happened this time?" He sounded exasperated.

"Joey took Susie out for dinner." Wally replied.

"Sammy found out and confronted him." Jack added. "Drew... Said something along the lines of... Norman it was bad."

"How bad?" Norman's skin was crawling with anticipation. What happened and how bad?

"Sammy drank a whole bottle of whiskey and went apeshit, is how bad." Wally replied. "It was like looking a rabid wolf in ta eye Norman! If that weren't no psychotic break I don't know what is, but fuck!"

"He broke stuff, screamed, he strangled Whitaker the cellist... Johnny wants to file a restraining order... Norman I don't trust one word out of Drew's mouth. What he said couldn't be true..."

"What did Joey say?!" His blood was boiling at the thought of that devil purposefully setting off the music director for leverage. It was honestly something he'd do.

"That he's been banging miss Campbell since day one? Bangin' her harder than the drummers can drum a tune... Behind Sammy's back no less. All talk, miss Campbell ain't like that sort!"

"And Joey isn't into women. That lying bastard is antagonizing his own workers like we were... Like puppets on a string." Jack shuddered. "And last night he cut Sammy's strings off just to let him fall and flail. I don't know what to do..."

"... Have ya tried askin' Susie ta dispell what he said?"

"That's just the problem... Sammy never left work, just ran off to hide wherever it is he goes. But Susie left and never came back." Jack explained.

"I even went and called her landline, but she ain't answerin'. Like she got outta the country or somethin'..."

Norman bit his lip, closing his eyes and mulling over what to do as he felt his bad eye swivel around beneath his eyelid. The only part of him allowed to run around in circles from this madness.

He had a feeling his promise to Abby about talking to Sammy to sort his feelings wasn't going to be so easy to keep. Not when Drew was back to pulling his tricks.

But at least it couldn't get any worse, right?

Wishful thinking on his part...

[slash-em-up]

With Apologies to Necroscia Sparaxes pt. 2: Collector X Reader Smut

Here’s part 2!! The smut starts now. 😈

Read part 1 here:

https://slash-em-up.tumblr.com/post/189337211228/with-apologies-to-necroscia-sparaxes-pt-1

Once again, the biggest of OOFs to @dashinslashin for their bangin Asa sketch which inspired this mess...

———————————————

The sound of the clicking lock of his office door was like music to Asa’s ears.

He took a moment, staring at the wooden frame in contemplation, wondering just how hard it would be to murder the new intern without getting caught.

Not even collect her.

She had been here less than a week and he was already exhausted by her constant questions and invasion of his personal space.

He’d tried so many times to foist her off on one of the other doctors; but somehow she had managed to attach herself to him like a leech.

That blonde annoyance had not only caused him to miss lunch, but now dinner as well.

Asa was a man of his word, and missing dinner with you while also spending the few minutes you’d spent visiting trying to field questions from a nosy intern was impossibly vexing.

He shrugged out of his lab coat and carefully hung it on the rack next to his door. The tie and button down he wore feeling incredibly restrictive after such a long tense day.

The utility foam and fabric that composed his desk chair were more relaxing than he thought they’d ever been before; and even the tall stack of papers waiting for his review didn’t look quite as daunting as they had before the door had locked.

A knock sounded at the door and Asa had to hold himself back from slamming his fist on the desk in annoyance.

“What?” Asa barked out brusquely.

“Dr. Emory, I’m about to head out for the night…”

God damn Sarah.

“…was there anything else I could do for you? Anything at all?”

Asa sighed – something he found himself doing more and more frequently since the intern had started – and stood to open the door.

The blonde student stood, hip cocked and eyes lidded in the entrance to his office. Looking at him with something he couldn’t quite identify; but suspected wasn’t an emotion he should - or would- return in kind.

He stared down at the girl, imagining ripping her intestines from her body and watching her writhe on the floor.

Or perhaps he’d filet her – soft skin parting smoothly to the sharp blade of his knife until she was nothing but blood and muscle…

He came back to himself as a pair of sticky gloss-covered lips pressed against his own.

Reacting without thinking, Asa shoved the girl away from him, internally smirking at the loud thump that sounded throughout his office as the young woman’s back hit the doorframe hard.

“What the fuck?!”

Asa didn’t respond, moving quickly to throw the door open and usher the student back out into the hall.

His only indication of surprise at finding you waiting directly outside was a slight pause before turning on his heel and pointing out towards the exit with a look he usually reserved for naughty dogs. Canine or not.

You stood to the side, casually crossing your arms and trying to keep the smile from your lips as Sarah slunk past the both of you; looking deeply embarrassed.

Once the office door was closed behind you, you let the smile seep onto your lips, giving a small chuckle at Asa’s frazzled expression.

“So… no extra credit, huh?”

Asa ran a hand through his hair, mussing the sandy mop out if it’s normal side-part.

“… don’t be surprised if she goes missing very soon.”

You laughed again, setting your purse to the side and removing your own coat.

Moving to lean over the back of the desk chair you began to loosen Asa’s tie and unbutton his collar.

“I can’t really blame her, even if it did make me jealous… I’d have a crush on you too if you were my professor.”

Asa twitched as your hand ran under his shirt and down his chest.

“I’m not a professor.”

“Well she’d probably have been just as happy to play ‘doctor’.”

Black eyes narrowed and turned towards you over his broad shoulder.

Your free hand rose and ran across Asa’s plush lower lip, taking the leftover lipgloss with it.

You frowned.

“Not really your color, baby.”

Before you could say another word you felt your feet leave the ground as Asa sprang like a panther, lifting you up and holding you between the wall and his body.

You wrapped your legs around his hips and attacked his lips in an aggressive kiss. Pouring every ounce of possessive anger and jealousy into your movements.

If Asa was surprised by your ferocity he didn’t let it show, meeting your tongue and teeth with bites and groans of pleasure.

You lowered your legs and used your momentum and Asa’s distraction to push against his chest with as much force as you could muster.

Asa stumbled back a few steps, coming to rest against his desk – looking ready to launch himself back at you.

Raising one leg, you pressed a foot to his midsection, shocking him enough to stay in place as you caught your breath.

“Not so fast. You owe me an apology.”

Pearl eyes narrowed.

“For?”

You smirked – now you had him.

“You blew me off at lunch, you didn’t come home for dinner, and now I find you covered in some hussy’s lip gloss?”

Asa growled.

“You did say you’d make it up to me…”

Obsidian eyes flashed at you in the low lamplight of the office.

“How should I apologize?”

You walked slowly over to your purse, keeping an eye on Asa just in case he decided not to play along with your little game.

You reached in and withdrew the small leather case you both knew held your strap-on harness.

Asa snarled, baring his teeth as you drew close once more.

Though you’d begun to incorporate pegging into your sexual repertoire with more regularity, it was still a battle (both internal and external) to get Asa to submit.

You maintained eye contact as you slowly reached out to unbuckle his belt and unzip his fly.

“Turn around and put your hands on the desk.”

He didn’t move.

Now it was your turn to snarl.

Leaning in, you hissed into Asa’s ear.

“Do it, or I’ll make sure you’re really sorry.”

Asa stepped closer to you, his towering frame dwarfing yours as he pulled your hips to grind against his own.

He leaned in.

“Don’t you dare go easy on me.”

You bit his earlobe harshly and whispered “You know I won’t.”

Nodding, Asa turned and spread his fingers across his wood desk, tilting his head to watch you out of the corner of his eye.

Pulling his slacks down to his thighs, you gave him a rough slap, grinning at the deep grunt pulled from his mouth at the sudden impact.

Quickly tearing open a condom from your purse, you slid it over your fingers and squirted a bit of lube over the latex.

At the first press of your fingers against his opening Asa inhaled sharply, hips jolting away from the pressure.

You made quick work of stretching his ass and stripped out of your own clothes to slide the strap-on up your thighs.

Broad shoulders rose and fell harshly as Asa tried to collect himself after your rapid fingering, but fell still as you pressed yourself against him.

Barely daring to breath, you slid your slicked length between his muscular ass, periodically catching at his pucker, making the man in front of you twitch as if he didn’t know whether he wanted to press back or jerk away.

“You want me to fuck you, Asa?”

“Mmmm…”

“I can’t hear you.”

You wrapped a hand around and slid a hand down his own hard cock, making him toss his head back and gasp.

“Ask me to fuck you.”

“… Fuck… fuck… please.”

“Please what?”

“… please fuck me hard.”

Your smile was predatory as you grasped him by his hipbones and pressed forward.

“With pleasure, baby.”

Asa exhaled like he’d been punched as you bottomed out against his ass - thick length filling him to capacity and hitting every sensitive inch of his insides.

You gave no quarter and no time to recover as your hips began a quick and hard thrusting rhythm.

It was easy to tell when you hit Asa’s prostate.

He had yet to master keeping his solemn demeanor intact when you were fucking into his ass, and the sensitive gland in particular drove him to moan and cry out in pleasure with each thrust.

You began scratching your nails across his outer thighs and this additional stimulation ran like electricity through Asa’s body – his spine straightened and you took the opportunity to wrap your hand through his loosened tie and use it like a leash to arch his spine further towards your body.

Satisfied with his stance you reached around and grasped at his chest, using the leverage to drive even harder into his hole.

You could tell Asa was getting close to his finish as his cries grew louder and louder, hands scrabbling at his desk and spreading paperwork across the surface and onto the floor.

“You gonna cum for me baby?”

Asa turned his head to look at you – eyes glazed in pleasure as he nodded rapidly.

Humming your approval, your hand slid down to once again grasp at his twitching cock, hand twisting up and down in tempo with your continued thrusts.

A gasp and rough shiver was all the warning you were given before you felt Asa’s warm seed spurt into your palm.

His body collapsed forward onto his desk, forehead resting against the cool wood as your motions against him slowed.

You leaned down and pressed a kiss to his sweat-covered shirt.

Asa exhaled as you slowly withdrew from his body, turning to face you fully. His shirt was a wrinkled, ruined mess, and his tie was still twisted around to lay over his shoulder.

His slacks rested open on his shaking thighs, cock bright red and slick as his body recovered from your intimate attacks.

You stepped into his space and threaded your arms around his body, smiling softly as not a moment later you were surrounded by Asa’s strong embrace, feeling his nose bury itself into your hair.

He was getting more and more comfortable accepting affection, and to have him barely hesitate to return it gave you a warm feeling in your chest.

His hands began to run over your exposed skin, making you aware of your own dripping sex – fully and painfully turned on after having observed his pleasure.

Asa pulled you back to sit across his lap as he sunk down into his desk chair.

Kissing his lips softly, you moaned into his mouth as his fingers slid down in between your thighs, feeling your slick cunt against his skin.

All thoughts of jealousy or anger fleeing your mind entirely as Asa spread your thighs across his own, sliding two thick fingers into you and bringing his other hand up to massage your breast.

In-between soft, passionate kisses Asa gave you his signature close-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

You were breathless as a low rolling orgasm ran through your body - brought to your finish by talented fingers and soft eyes.

Your head fell to rest against his shoulder. Kissing his exposed neck, you giggled softly, happier in that moment than you could recall being in a very long time.

“Anytime.”

[praphit]

Let’s Party! - with Candyman

We are about to celebrate our independence in 2020. But, for me to fully celebrate, I think we're going to have to eliminate some of this tension.

I was in a small coffee shop the other day. This shop makes me feel good. They've got a cute lil flamingo outside of the place. There's a tiny statue of a cute old man inviting people in for coffee. It's a cute, cozy, family atmosphere... normally. The day I was there, there was a lot of tension; mainly due to the Tv.

A news story would come on of white people saying stupid things, and all of the POC would stare at the white people. Then, a story of people not wearing masks, and we would all stare at people outside the shop, who weren't wearing mask or weren't wearing them correctly. Then, a story about defunding the police, as there's one lone officer right in the middle of the coffee shop. We all stared at him. It was so uncomfortable. I even became angry when they got my order wrong. The barista had the nerve to tell me "It's ok, I'll just make you another one." I'm thinking "Another one? You didn't get me the FIRST one! And how YOU (whitey) gonna tell me that's ok?"

TENSE!

We need a story that we can all rally behind; a common enemy to root against. My first thought was to look at horror movies for this story. I know that seems silly, but that's where you'd get that common enemy for sure. You'd think that racism would be enough of a common enemy, but there are too many pretending like it doesn't exist. You'd think that COVID-19 would be enough, but... I think that the problem there is that it's invisible.

If we had a bunch of vampires terrorizing our country, I feel like we might be more united to eradicate the enemy. We can't get rid of our prejudices, so let's refocus them. Of course, I could also see monster experts preaching to us to keep garlic around our necks to repel the vampires, and us refusing to in order to uphold our rights.

So, I spun the wheel of horror and came up with "Candyman".

We were supposed to get a new "Candyman" from Jordan Peele, but due to COVID, idk when that's going to happen. This early 90's original will have to do.

I hadn't watched this movie since I was a kid; I didn't remember much from it. I remembered the black man (vengeful spirit) with a hook, appearing throughout the inner city, killing people. I remembered bees. 

I remembered the white woman who favors Scully from "The X-Files",

I kept thinking how things could have turned out differently had Mulder & Scully been on the case, but... look, I'm not saying those two were racist, but... this truth that was out there, that they were desperately pursuing never seemed to be in the hood. I also remembered that there was no candy in this film. Why the hell is he called "Candyman"?! I remember thinking "Did white people steal all of his candy? Is that why he's pissed, and is killing folks?"

Well, no, but I wasn't too far off.

Candyman, was a very intelligent artist who had promise, and who's only "crime" was falling in love with a white woman. He not only fell in love with one, but impregnated her as well. White people couldn't handle that, so... horrible things ended up happening to Candyman as a result, and now when one calls his name five times in a mirror, he appears in the room, and the killing begins! It's an odd transaction. Why would people keep calling out his name, when there are so many stories of other people doing so, and they end up brutally murdered? Though we kinda do that with Ronald McDonald, don't we? We keep calling and he keeps killing. So, I suppose it's realistic.

So, knock-off Scully (Helen) donned her white savior mantle, and went out into the projects to write a story about the fear of Candyman, and the harm that this fear causes. She's actually sincere, and doing some much needed work through this venture. I started to feel bad for her, because her husband is a cheating asshole. When the audience is introduced to him (a college professor), he's in the process of working his voodoo on one of his students. I'm also thinking that this isn't the first time he has cheated on her, nor the first student. There's never just one:

Weinstein, R. Kelly... Amy Cooper. 

You know dag on well that Amy Cooper had done that plenty of times before. I can see her back in high school, coercing black people to give her the answers on tests. And if they don't, she’d claim that they were cheating off of her, and we all know whom the teacher is going to believe when she calls him/her over... not to mention she's probably bangin that teacher. It just seems like Amy Cooper is the type who was bangin the teacher.

And the young lady, in the movie, who was sleeping with knock-off Scully's husband was so hoeish. To be clear, it’s way more the professor’s fault than the studen, but they didn't have to do her like that. not just in the way that she dressed (if she wants everybody to see her stuff that's her prerogative), but the fact that she had no shame in the act of sleeping with him (a married man). No shame in class. No shame in front of Helen. No shame in Helen's place. There's a scene where something awful happens to Helen, and within an hour, hoeish lady and asshole are doing the nasty. I repeat, they didn't have to do her like that. I wonder if that actress went on to do quality films? I'm just picturing her going up to producers for work -

"Oh, you were the super hoe in "Candyman" right? You were great! I've got a hoe role that you'll be perfect for." *heavy sigh* and another Sharon Stone is born.

(Look her up, kids. And be inspired.)

Eventually, Helen meets up with Candyman, and... well... he keeps on killing. She doesn't really have the effect that a white savior is supposed to have. There's no actual saving going on. In fact, one could argue that he starts killing more people because of her. Way to go, whitey :)

I've got to judge this by early 90's standards. The dialogue is pretty bad in spots-

Ex. (scene starts)

person A - "Hey, do you like coffee?"

person B - "I love coffee"

person A - "I'm going to make you some coffee."

person B - "Yum."

... that's it. END SCENE. Nothing else happened. Nothing else was said. Awkward. No real point to the scene. Idk... maybe that's just kinda how we conversed in the early 90's. There were also a lot of interactions that wouldn't make much sense today.

The music too. I liked it, but very 90's and very maddening (so I guess it works).

The rules of Candyman are still a mystery to me:

You must say his name five times, but why? And how long before it resets? - Like, if I say it three times, and then wait 3 days, say it again, and then wait a year before saying it again, would he still appear? And why in a mirror?

And what happens if his name is said by multiple people at the same time? Does his power to appear only work in that neighborhood? What if I'm right on the line? And what if I don't enunciate? - and I say something like a quick "Canman"?

So many questions.

The ending was also a bit of a mess. It was like they realized that they were running out of time, and then just kinda... ended it.

Grade: BUT, by early 90's standards, it's a solid B... I guess. The social statements it's making also pump it up.

So, there you have it. It's time to celebrate!

You could play this movie in the beginning of your celebration to get all of the race talk out of the way.

OR if you won't want people to hide from the race talk, you could be sneaky, and put this on in the middle of your celebration. Regardless (before, during, or after our drunken celebrating) it'll bring people together in some good and needed convo.

It should also convince us to be nicer to one another. We don't want anymore vengeful spirits out and about. As well as to scale down the tension. Cuz I swear, if I go back to that coffee shop, and get some white barista telling me that it's ok that they got my order wrong... imma tear down that cute flamingo and old man, and burn that shop to the ground.

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.18

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst. Violence. Dry humping. Almost smut, plenty of cock blocking.

Bamby

You had to sit out the talk with the owner of a local auto repair shop. The place used to be owned by the current owner and John, which was why Sam and Dean were talking to him without you. Considering they were pretending to be cops, it was easier to have you stay out of it.

It wasn’t that Omega’s couldn’t be cops, it was more the fact that it was very rare.

Sitting in Baby, away from the view of the auto shop just in case anyone recognised the car, you were staring at your phone. You wanted to call John.

There was no point, though, and you knew it. The guy hadn’t answered his phone for months, why would he now?

“Hey,” Dean tapped the roof of the car, making you jump. Normally he’d laugh that off, but the case had him feeling all kinds of things, which had him instantly looking at you with guilt. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” You assured him, climbing out of the car. “So… what’d he say?”

“Dad use to see a psychic.”

“John? Psychic?” You couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I know.” Dean nodded. “I’m as surprised as you, but it’s a lead.”

“So where’s Sam?”

Turning, Dean gestured to a nearby phone booth. “Come on.” Grabbing your hand, he started towards his brother.

Once you were close enough, Sam started to read from the phonebook he was flicking through. “All right, so there are a few psychics and palm readers in town. There’s someone named El Divino. There’s, uh,” he chuckled lightly, “there’s the Mysterious Mister Fortinsky. Uh, Missouri Moseley-”

Dean cut him off suddenly. “Wait, wait. Missouri Moseley?”

Turning away from the book, Sam frowned at his brother, confused. “What?”

“That’s a psychic?” Dean asked.

“Uh, yeah.” Sam shrugged. “Yeah, I guess so.”

Letting go of your hand, Dean turned and jogged back to the car. You and Sam shared an equally confused look before you started towards his brother. Before you got to him, however, Dean was already coming back for you.

In his hands he held John’s journal..

“Here, look at this.” He opened the journal up to the first page and handed it to Sam. “First page, first sentence, read that.”

“‘I went to Missouri and I learned the truth.’”

“I always thought he meant the state.”

You were on edge. Sitting between the brothers in the waiting room of Missouri’s office… you were on edge. There was just something about the place. A smell that made you feel all tingly…

Your leg was jumping up and down. It hadn’t stopped since you took your seat.

“Okay.” Dean suddenly grabbed your knee to stop your leg from jiggling. “What is your problem?”

Words wouldn’t form. All you could do was stare at his hand on your leg. There was a heat under his palm that was radiating throughout your body. The tingling intensified, centring around your core.

“Dean,” you whimpered, looking up to meet his gaze.

His eyes went wide as if realising what was wrong.

“Are you… are you going into heat?” Sam asked behind you. His voice was low so as not to disturb Missouri and her client in the next room. But the lowness of his voice served a second purpose… it also increased your arousal.

“Sammy.” You leaned back against him.

Out of instinct, he leaned in ever so slightly and breathed against your shoulder. “Fuck.”

Dean’s grip on your knee tightened as he moved in closer...

“All right, there!”

Missouri’s voice snapped the three of you out of whatever was happening, making you all spring apart just in time as her and her client walked around the corner.

“Don’t you worry ‘bout a thing. Your wife is crazy about you,” she assured the man. He gave her a thankful smile before walking out. As soon as he was gone and the door was closed, she sighed and shook her head. “Poor bastard. His woman is cold-bangin’ the gardener.”

“Why didn’t you tell him?” Dean asked, voice a little shaky from discomfort.

“People don’t come here for the truth. They come for good news,” she noted, starting towards her office. When none of you moved, she gestured for you to follow. “Well? Sam, Dean and Y/N, come on already, I ain’t got all day.”

While the brothers hesitated, you stood on shaking legs and followed the Beta into her office. When you walked in, however, you came to a stop and nearly toppled over.

“Whoa!” Sam was right there, catching you before you could fall.

As he pulled you to his chest, you leaned into him, seeking out his warmth, comfort, security and touch. You felt dizzy, and hot. Flushed. Tingly. You felt…

“Fuck… what’s happening?”

Dean came up to stand in front of you, waiting until you opened your eyes enough to meet his gaze. Reaching out, he pressed a hand to your forehead and left it there for a second before pulling it away. Then, he took a deep breath to prepare himself, and then he leaned in and sniffed at your neck.

“Dean?” Sam asked expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

“She’s not in heat,” Dean noted, pulling back.

“I’m not?” Even you were surprised.

“Here, drink this.” Missouri stepped up to the three of you then, offering you a steaming cup of tea.

The sweet smell of peppermint hit your senses almost immediately. Taking the cup from her hands, you gingerly brought it to your lips and took a sip. It didn’t do much, but it distracted you enough.

“Well, lemme look at ya.” Missouri stepped up to Dean and Sam, laughing lightly. “Oh, you boys grew up handsome.” She pointed a finger at Dean. “And you were one goofy-lookin’ kid, too.”

Despite whatever was going on in you, you couldn’t help but smile at Dean. You hadn’t known him when he was a kid, but he was good looking when you first met him and he’d only gotten better with age.

Missouri’s words had Sam grinning at his glaring brother.

Turning her attention to Sam, her smile faltered as she grabbed his hand. “Oh, honey… I’m sorry about your girlfriend.”

Your gaze dropped as Dean stepped a little closer to you, placing his hand on your back.

“And your father,” Missouri went on. “He’s missin’?”

“How’d you know all that?” Sam asked.

“Well, you were just thinkin’ it just now,” she explained.

Dean’s hand slipped from your back as he stepped closer to her. “Well, where is he? Is he okay?”

“I don’t know.”

“Don’t know? Well, you’re supposed to be a psychic, right?”

Uh-oh...

Her face turned scolding. “Boy, you see me sawin’ some bony tramp in half? You think I’m a magician? I may be able to read thoughts and sense energies in a room, but I can’t just pull facts out of thin air.” Shaking her head at him, she turned to you. “Come on, dear, let’s sit you down.” Taking your arm, she gently guided you over to one of the to lounges in the room.

Following, the brothers waited until you were sitting before they took the spots on either side of you. They stayed close, but also tried to keep some distance between you. It was clear something was happening, and the last thing you needed was this thing triggering your heat.

As Dean sat, Missouri snapped at him. “Boy, you put your foot on my coffee table, I’m ‘a whack you with a spoon!”

“I didn’t do anything!”

“But you were thinkin’ about it,” she countered.

“Okay. So, our dad, when did you first meet him?” Sam asked, getting back on track.

“He came for a reading. A few days after the fire. I just told him what was really out there in the dark. I guess you could say… I drew back the curtains for him.”

“What about the fire? Do you know about what killed our mum?” Dean asked.

“A little. Your daddy took me to your house. He was hopin’ I could sense the echoes, the fingerprints of this thing.”

“And could you?” Sam presed.

Missouri simply shook her head.

“What was it?”

“I don’t know. Oh, but it was evil.” She looked to both of the boys with sympathetic eyes. “So…you think somethin’ is back in that house?”

Sam gave a firm nod. “Definitely.”

“I don’t understand.”

“What?”

“I haven’t been back inside, but I’ve been keepin’ an eye on the place, and it’s been quiet,” she explained, answering Sam’s question. “No sudden deaths, no freak accidents. Why is it actin’ up now?”

“I don’t know. But Dad going missing and Jessica dying and now this house all happening at once... it just feels like something’s starting,” Sam noted.

“That’s a comforting thought,” Dean mumbled sarcastically.

You had to agree with Dean… all of this was making you feel very uneasy.

“Having you there… it might help. She’s an Omega, you’re an Omega… you might be able to help her trust the boys,” Missouri noted as the four of you stood on her porch.

Looking to the brothers, you hesitated before turning back to her and shaking your head. “I can’t. I… I don’t feel well. And I don’t want to distract anyone. Having me there might make things worse, too.”

There was a moment of hesitation. You could feel the brothers, you knew they wanted to argue, but they knew you were right. Something was going on with you, and whatever it was, it could easily distract both Winchesters.

“Okay then.” Missouri gave a short nod. “You can stay here. The spare bedroom is upstairs, the first door on the left. Rest up, dear. We’ll be back before you know it.”

As she started towards Baby, Sam turned to you. “Call us if you need anything. We’ll come running,” he assured you.

“I know.” Stepping closer to him, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.

The two of you tensed, pausing. His scent and yours lingered, tempting you into doing more than giving a simple peck.

Before either of you could do something you might regret later, you pulled away and turned to Dean. “You gonna be okay?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

Chuckling, you shrugged. “I’ll be fine.”

“You better be.” Unlike with his brother, Dean gave in to the temptation of your scent and pressed his lips to yours.

Gripping the back of your head, he held you close, deepening the kiss until your knees were buckling.

Tearing his lips away from yours, Dean looked down at you. “Stay safe.”

“You too.”

With that, he stepped back and gave Sam’s arm a tap. With one last smile from the younger brother, you then watched as they walked away, heading over to join Missouri by Baby. You stood there and watched as they got in the car, not moving until they drove off and disappeared.

Once alone, you headed back inside and made sure to lock every door and window. As soon as you were certain you were alone, you dragged yourself upstairs and into the spare room before collapsing onto the bed.

Whatever was going on with you, was only getting worse.

You were dreaming… at least you felt like you were dreaming. Everything was hazy. There was a scent surrounding you that felt so familiar, it made your mouth water.

But you couldn’t figure out what the scent was. There were too many scented candles in the room. Too many overpowering smells. Try as you might, you couldn’t name the delicious taste in your mouth.

“Hey sweetheart.” The rough voice made your skin tingle in all the right ways.

Humming, you rolled onto your back. Your body moved on its own, spreading your legs for the voice.

The haziness of your dream made it hard to discern details. Everything felt like it was on the cusp of reality. You felt flushed, dizzy, confused… it was difficult to focus.

You felt the bed dip before gentle lips ghosted along your neck. “Miss you, sweetheart.”

Moaning, your wrapped your arms around the man in your dreams, pulling him closer. “Touch me. Please.”

“Wish I could, baby,” they groaned against you. “But you’re not thinking straight… and the boys… leaving them, coming back for you, taking you… I wish I could, but they’d never forgive me.”

Frowning in your sleep, you shook your head. “No one has to know. Just touch me.”

The bed shifted again as the man of your dreams pulled back. “I want to, sweetheart… but I can’t. I just… I can’t.”

You listened as they walked away. When you heard the sound of a door clicking shut, you suddenly sat upright in bed, eyes on the closed door.

Was… was that…? That was a dream… right?

Most of you was certain it was. It hadn’t felt real enough to not be a dream. Everything had been too hazy, and there was no lingering scent of whoever it might’ve been.

But there was a tiny bit of you that had doubts. Some part that questioned the tingling feeling deep in your stomach… that felt a little too real for a dream...

A hand gently rocked you, pulling you from your sleep once more. Eyes fluttering open, you found Dean sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hey.” He smiled down at you. “How you feeling?”

Swallowing thickly, you rested your hand on his. His eyes followed your movement, understanding you right away despite the fact you hadn’t actually said anything.

“How’s the case going?”

“We’ve got a plan,” he explained. “Sam and Missouri are downstairs, working on some stuff that’s supposed to get rid of the poltergeist and ghost.”

“Poltergeist and ghost?”

Nodding, he shifted on the spot. “Yeah… but… I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Dean?”

“Can you smell that?” he asked suddenly, looking around the room.

“Smell what?”

Frowning, his eyes darted around as if he was trying to find the source of whatever he could smell. “It… it smells a little like Alpha in here.”

Giving the air a sniff, you shook your head. “I don’t smell anything other than you and the candles.”

Still, he didn’t stop looking around. Whatever he could sense was getting on his nerves. It clearly didn’t sit right with him. Probably had to do with the fact it was an Alpha scent around the Omega he was kind of seeing.

“Dean.” Reaching up, you cupped his cheek and turned his head until he was looking down at you.

As soon as your eyes met, he moved. Leaning down, he captured your lips with his. You melted into the touch.

Shifting once more, he moved until he was kneeling on the bed, leaning over you. Your hand slid around to his hair, your fingers gliding through to tug on the strands as you pulled him closer. He lowered himself down until he was between your thighs and his body was pressed against yours. You could feel the heat of his skin against you as he surrounded you completely.

You could feel more than just that… you could feel him growing hard as he began grinding against you.

Pulling your lips from his, you moaned. “Dean…”

He turned to suck on your neck as he continued to rock against you. “Want you.”

“Mmm.” Dragging your legs up against him, you wrapped them around his hips. “Yes. Please. Dean.”

Groaning into the crook of your neck, Dean slid his hand between your bodies and began working on undoing your jeans.

“You two better stop that right now!” Missouri yelled from the other side of the door. “There is a family that needs our help. And I do not need the smell of you two staining my sheets! Let the poor girl go, Dean.”

Grunting out of frustration, Dean pulled away harshly and dropped to the bed beside you. “Goddamn cock block,” he muttered.

“I heard that, boy!”

The Winchesters and Missouri had gone back to Jenny’s house to deal with the spirits. You’d stayed back, again, although this time you regretted it. It seemed the longer you stayed at Missouri’s the more you felt… weird.

Something in her house was making your skin go all tingly, and the fact you couldn’t figure out what it was, was frustrating the hell out of you.

It didn’t take too long before Dean sent you a message to let you know they were done, though. They were gone for maybe an hour, a little bit more. You weren’t sure, but you didn’t care. You were just relieved the case was over… that meant you could move on.

Driving Missouri’s car down the road, nearing Jenny’s place, you found Sam waiting for you out the front. Parking by the pathway, you slid out of the car as he headed towards you.

“How’d it go?”

He shrugged. “It was touch a go for a moment, but we managed.”

When he finally stopped in front of you, you spotted the darkening mark on his neck. “Sam!” Stepping closer, you reached up on your toes to get a better look. “What the hell happened?”

As your hands went out to check him over, he caught your wrists. “I’m okay,” he assured you, smiling as he led you back down from your toes. “Dean saved the day.”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure.” He nodded, giving your wrists a squeeze. “What about you? You feeling better?”

“A little, yeah,” you admitted. “I think I just needed some fresh air or something.”

“Good.” He gave a tight smile.

It suddenly occurred to you that you had no idea how Sam would react if you actually got your heat. You had no idea how he was going to cope during your next one. During the last one you had, you two hadn’t been on great terms. Now, however, things were complicated.

He’d been flirting more. He’d been getting closer. He’d been touching you more. Part of you wanted to believe he was falling back into old habits. The rest of you couldn’t believe he’d get over Jess so quickly.

“Come on.” He turned his hand and intertwined his fingers with yours. “Let’s go help Dean clean up, and then let’s get out of here.”

You did not get out of there.

Later that night you found yourself huddled against one of the back doors of the Impala, while Sam and Dean watched the house across the street. Apparently Sam did not feel like the case was actually over.

“All right, so, tell me again, what are we still doin’ here?” Dean asked, not for the first time.

“I don’t know. I just…I still have a bad feeling,” Sam explained.

“Why? Missouri did her whole Zelda Rubenstein thing, the house should be clean, it should be over,” Dean countered.

Normally you’d agree with him, but this case had changed things. Now you knew about Sam, you knew what he could do and what he’d been going through. It might’ve tested Dean’s trust and belief in his brother, but for you? Seeing that everything Sam had predicted was true, you trusted him more than ever.

Sam shrugged. “Yeah, well, probably. But I just wanna make sure, that’s all.”

“Yeah, well, problem is I could be sleeping in a bed with my girl right now,” Dean grunted, sliding down to get more comfortable in his seat. Leaning his head, back against the seat, he closed his eyes.

“Dean.” Sam hit his brother in the chest. “Look, Dean!”

Turning to the house, you felt your stomach drop as you spotted Jenny in window, banging her fists against the glass as she screamed.

“You grab the kids, I’ll get Jenny,” Dean ordered as the brothers jumped out of the car.

You didn’t hesitate. Within seconds you were throwing yourself out of the car and running across the street, praying you’d get to the family in time.

Dean was going after Jenny, Sam was headed for Ritchie, and you were rushing for Sari’s room. As you threw the little girl’s door open, you came to a stop.

Sari was sitting up in bed, cry and screaming as she started at the thing standing in the middle of the room. The thing on fire.

Running into the room, you reached out for Sari. “Come on, sweetheart! I got you!”

With tears streaming down her face, Sari threw herself at you. Clutching her to your chest, holding her head in the crook of your neck, you moved as quickly as possible, dodging the thing on fire as it slowly moved closer to you.

Once in the hallway, you squealed as you almost bumped into Sam.

“Let’s go!” Grabbing your hand with his free one, he dragged you through the house and towards the front door.

As you neared the exit, Sam put Ritchie down so the little boy could run into his mum’s arms. Dean and Jenny were outside, frantically waiting for the rest of you. With Sam a step behind, Sari still in your arms, and Ritchie running ahead, you burst out of the house… only to have the door slam shut behind you.

Turning on your heels, your eyes went wide as you realised Sam hadn’t made it out.

“Sam!” you screamed.

Wriggling out of your grasp, Sari ran to her mum and brother while you started pounding your fist on the door.

“Sammy!”

“Y/N, move!” Dean ordered as he came charging up the porch steps.

You managed to jump out of the way just in time before Dean swung an axe into the door.

Heart pounding hard and fast in your chest, you found it hard to breathe as you watched Dean break down the door. It splintered and chipped under the weight of each hit until finally one of the panels broke away from the rest.

“Sam!” Dean called into the house as he continued to swing the axe.

It didn’t take too much longer before there was a big enough hole in the door for you to slip through.

As Dean pulled the axe away, you moved as quickly as you could and ducked into the house.

“Y/N!”

Ignoring Dean, you ran. Feet slamming against the floorboards, you moved faster than you’d ever moved before. Even with your lungs burning, you didn’t stop until you threw yourself into the kitchen.

Sam was pressed against the wall, struggling as whatever held him squeezed him at the same time.

“Sam!”

His eyes darted to you, and instantly filled with fear. “Y/N! Run!”

Before you could get closer, or run away, you were suddenly thrown against the wall as well. Your head collided with the heavy wooden kitchen cupboards. The crack that followed the collision echoed in your heart as a sharp pain throbbed from the point of impact, and throughout your head.

“Y/N!”

Slowly your vision began to blur, and then everything went black.

Groaning, you winced as you lifted your head from whatever you’d been resting on.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Sam’s voice was gentle as he tried to ease you back down.

“Sam?” you croaked, cracking your eyes open to look up at him.

The two of you were in the back of the Impala. Dean was driving in the front, while you were laying across the backseat, your head in Sam’s lap.

His fingers stilled from where they’d been stroking your hair soothingly. “Hey.” He cracked a smile. “How you feeling?”

“Like I got knocked out by a poltergeist,” you groaned, pushing yourself to sit up.

Not wanting you to hurt yourself, Sam guided you up and helped you turn so you could lean against the back of the seat. Once he was sure you would be okay, he let you go.

“What happened?”

Neither of them answered right away. You watched them both as they shot each other quick glances. It didn’t take a genius to know whatever went down had been big.

“The thing that was in Sari’s room...” Sam started. “It was our mum.”

Your eyes went wide. “M-Mary?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, looking down at his lap. “She sacrificed herself to kill the poltergeist.”

“So… she saved you?”

“She saved all of us,” Dean countered. “That poltergeist had you, too. And mum… mum didn’t want it to just let go of us… she…”

“She mentioned you,” Sam explained, finishing the sentence Dean couldn’t. “She called you our Omega, Y/N… she called you family.”

Bamby