#Thus why he says ‘maybe’ to the robber

[southerndragontamer]

Egotober Day 16: Cards

Tarot reading might not have been the most flashy kind of magic he knew, but it was still powerful. Plus the cards came in handy for other reasons, though ordinary people wouldn’t know that. It was also simultaneously one of the sweetest and most terrifying forms of magic.

He could easily help bring couples, families together. He could help someone figure out their path in life that would bring them happiness. But he could also see who was dangerous, or in danger and didn’t know it or want to believe it. But the magician couldn’t force people to believe him, so their fate was ultimately their choice. The cards they were dealt could be ignored, for good or ill.

Marvin went around his shop to do a quick restock while things were slow. He’d had a group of tabletop gamers come in and they’d spent almost two hours gathering things for cosplay or the next game. It had been a bit hectic, but in the end everyone had been happy with their purchases.

His shop was only part of his business, he performed magic shows at least three times a week. Let the everyday population enjoy acts of impossibility and wonder under the illusion it was fake. It was a beautiful thing that the human mind was so quick to dismiss the obvious.

Marvin looked up from a shelf as the bell on the door rang. He finished stocking the dice and turned, cape swirling around his ankles. He gave the customer a smile. He got out his deck and began to shuffle it.

“Welcome to my shop, Mystical Magics, what can I do for you?”

What he didn’t expect was the tingle of warning from his magic and the sound of a gun being cocked. His cat like smile didn’t waver as he chuckled. He twirled a card between his fingers as he purred.

“Oh you really don’t want to do that~”

The second he saw the hint of gunmetal he threw the card. The magically sharpened edge sliced clean through as if the weapon was paper. There was a pained, surprised yelp as the attacker dropped it and then was shoved to the floor as Marvin quickly kicked him in the chest.

He set a boot on his chest and leant down, another sharpened card against the robbers throat. The magician’s eyes glowed threateningly as he loomed over the man, fangs bared in a wild snarl like a jungle cat. His power hummed under his skin that blazed with runic tattoos. It danced in the air in swirls of color and licks of ethereal flame around him and almost formed wings like a phoenix had.

“You picked the wrong shop to try to rob. You wanted fortune didn’t you? To try to take what you wanted from someone you thought weaker. Don’t lie to me, I know those like you. Well…let’s see what the cards hold for you, maybe you’ll get out of this alive.”

[sitronsangbody]

Warning: this gets grim

I'm up at night thinking about an episode of Supernatural and how it demonstrates some really heinous public attitudes toward fat people.

Mild spoilers for Supernatural season 6 I guess:

Dean Winchester has to take on the job of Death for a day, meaning he has to go to those who are supposedly destined to die, witness their final moments, and give them the touch of death, thus claiming their lives and sending them to the afterlife. He soon struggles to live up to his responsibilities as he's required to end the lives of a sick child and a young nurse. His first two victims, however, don't bother his conscience at all. The first is an armed robber who threatens to shoot a little boy and gets killed by the boy's father. The second is a fat man who has a heart attack.

When I say fat, what I really mean is fat-coded; the man is simply not stick thin in the way that nearly every character on the show is, so he counts as fat and his storyline (minor though it is) is tied to his size. He is in his 50s, maybe early 60s. We first see him wolfing down a cheeseburger, and Dean says "this looks like a heart attack situation", before the man indeed clutches his chest and dies. When he asks why he had to die, Dean's reply is: "you think maybe it was the extra cheese?"

His death is not portrayed as tragic in any way. He himself is only mildly distressed. We don't get to see anyone grieving for him. His death is there to be one of the Easy ones, an unsurprising, almost comical and even deserved(?) death to make Dean think it's not that bad of a gig, ending people's lives. And we, the viewers, are supposed to agree. We're not invited to feel sad for this man in the slightest, even in retrospect. Everyone who created this scene and decided to keep it in the show, believed this to be a normal way to think of a fat person suddenly dying. This came out in 2010.

It just encapsulates so much stuff - really fucking dark stuff, I might add - about how fat lives have been viewed through the years. That scene (and scenes like it) says:

- when fat people die, it's because they brought it on themselves. They are ticking timebombs and their death is expected.

- when fat people die young, no they don't, because being fat means living on borrowed time anyway, so a fat person dying way earlier than the average life expectancy is not tragic the way it is if a thin person does.

- when fat people die, it's definitely because they are fat (and they are fat because they make bad choices).

- when fat people eat what's considered unhealthy food, it's depressing and stupid and they're out of control. Dean Winchester is canonically a big fan of fast food and eats burgers all the time on the show. Because he is thin and fit, this is portrayed as fun, relatable and manly.

- when fat people die, it's not sad.

And like, I wish this was exclusive to fiction, but there are real people who act like this when real fat people die. Like they know why, even if they have no clue, like it shouldn't be shocking, like it's self-inflicted and therefore deserved, and like it probably wasn't much of a life anyway so it's just not that tragic, really.

This stuff is, just for me personally, one of the roughest sides of anti-fatness. When people deny us dignity in death. Partly because it's so ghoulish, and partly because it's so ubiquitous it appears in media like this, without controversy. I'd like to believe there would be stronger reactions had this plotline come out today in 2025, but I am not confident.

[bumpkinspice0]

Parallels: Chapter 3

Miguel O'Hara x Spider!FemReader

No use of y/n

Rating: Explicit (Minors DNI!!!)

Word Count: 1400

Summary:Miguel was consuming your every thought and it's becoming an issue. You wonder if he's having the same problem.

Warnings: Smut- Male (Shower) masturbation, Sexual frustration, Pinning, tension, Angsy as hell, learn a little more about reader's life, J. Jonah Jameson is in every universe Notes: I just realized I never said that the 'shared spider-sense' theme of this fic is entirely inspired by the relationship between Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, or more commonly known as Silk. They were both bitten by the same spider and share a spider sense, making them drawn to each other and ALSO able to track the other through the multi-verse. Silk is a an awesome spider character. 10/10 recommend checking out her comics (But I say that about every comic) I'm not sure Miguel and readers connection will be exaaaactly the same since they literally couldn't have been bitten by the same spider, but yeah. This is a totally cannon thing spider people can do 😅

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Series Masterlist

AO3

-

Chapter 3

On My Mind

The restaurant was busier than you’d like, but really everywhere in this city was. Busier just meant louder, and louder meant earplugs for you. After having advanced hearing for nearly a decade you’d gotten used to it by now. You didn’t want to spend all night asking people to repeat themselves because you could over-hear everything that was happening in the restaurant. Right now you just wanted to be with your friends— unfortunately, your mind kept drifting elsewhere. 

Since you returned to your dimension 3 days ago, Miguel has consumed your every waking thought. Your daily hero life was suffering for it. You lost 2 robbers last night and missed a car chase this morning because you were too stuck in your own head. You were never one to get distracted on the job— and by a guy no less. 

 I should have stayed in the training room. I should have stayed longer and maybe we could have…

You’re not entirely sure what would have happened, honestly. This was uncharted territory. Some undefined connection only between the two of you? An innate sensation that drove you to horny madness. It sounded like a bad comic book plot. You’d probably had weirder things happen in your nearly 10-year-long spider career but this was by far the most frustrating.

Just the thought of him invaded your every sense. The deep rumble of his voice. His distinctive, rich smell— Like red wine. The taste he left in your mouth. 

You wanted him. You wanted him so badly, and you hated how much you wanted him. You didn’t even know anything about him.

Fuck Miguel O’Hara and whatever the fuck he was doing to you. 

But Miguel was a Spider-Woman problem.

Tonight you didn’t want to be Spider-Woman. You wanted to forget your interdimensional side gig and the broody, gigantic man that was driving you insane. Tonight you just wanted to be a good friend— and you were failing miserably at that too. 

Your best friend Jack wrangled his boyfriend, Ash, and your college friend Sue to come out for drinks and your mind couldn’t be further away.

“Hey, space cadet!” Jack snaps his fingers directly in front of your face. You’d been staring at the same potted plant across the room for probably 5 minutes now. You crash back to maddening reality. 

“Sorry, what?” you reenter whatever the conversation was now with a pitiful smile.

“Ash asked what’s new at the paper,” Jack repeats the question you never heard. He gives you a worried look. Jack knew about your double life. He’d known you for so long now, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He'd catch it whenever something was slightly amiss before you could even articulate a single word— thus why he lined up this friend's night in the first place. You’d been reclusive since you’d joined the multiverse. 

“Oh, at the Bugle?” You take a generous swig of your cocktail, “Jameson’s still behind on the times, I think. Keeps trying to push papers instead of giving our digital department more funding. I’m still only making stuff for print. Like, do you even remember the last time you even read from a newspaper?”

“Honestly, I don’t think I ever have.” Ash snorts.

“Maybe in high school,” Sue taps her chin, “And even then it was for like an assignment.” 

“People still need paper-mache supplies!” Jack interjects.

“Hey!” you playfully shove him, “That’s my entire industry you’re shitting on, sir!”

“Oh, so you’re defending the infamous J. Jonah Jameson now?”

“I’m but a lowly graphic designer,” you clarify, “The only thing he wants me to do with his precious paper is not look too much like The Times .”

You’d landed your job at The Daily Bugle in college. An internship turned full-time staff position. You’d gotten Jack some freelance work there on the side. He was seemingly the only photographer that could get a halfway decent picture of the mysterious Spider-Woman. He always gave you a small cut of whatever Jamason was willing to shell out. You didn’t know how to work a camera for crap, but you knew how to pose for a picture.

The evening rolls on with a pleasant demeanor. It was nice to be talking to non-spider people. To listen to the casual ramblings of your friend's completely ordinary lives. That new bitch at work or their mother calling one too many times a day. You envied them, honestly. It’s been so long since you could just simply live . This night out was a small taste of what you’d been missing. Connection. 

And, of course, it gets ruined. 

The nearby wail of sirens penetrates through your foam earplugs. They were maybe 3 blocks away. Once you hear it, you can’t unhear it. All conversations fall dead in your ears, your focus now entirely on the possible imminent danger to your city. The sirens are getting further away now.

A vibration from your phone in your pocket catches your attention. You check it under the table. A text from Jack. 

‘Sidejob thing?’

He always texted you in code about Spider-Woman business. He must have seen your face go placid, even though he can’t hear the distant sirens. You give him a faint nod across the table and he glances to the door— His silent message loud and clear. 

What are you waiting for? Go.

You know Jack did his best to understand, even if he never truly could. You had a duty. It wasn’t just a job, but who you were. You could never just stand idly by.

You quickly make an excuse about forgetting a deadline and shimmy out of the booth, leaving a few bucks for your meal. So much for no Spider-Woman tonight. 

____

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

Fuck you. Get out of my head.

It had become his mantra for the last few days— of course, it didn’t help anything, but cursing you gave him some minor vindication. 

He found himself in the shower 20 minutes longer than usual, attempting to give himself some kind of relief. The thought of you waiting on your knees for him clawed at his mind. He stroked his painfully hard cock to the image, now forever burned into his retinas. 

He never got distracted. It wasn’t in his nature. He prided himself on being the best leader he possibly could be. Attentive, knowledgeable, a team player— and for the most part, he was. Now you had come and thrown a wrench into all of that.

He should have known from the first time he saw you this would be a problem. It caught him completely off guard, but how could he have been prepared for… whatever this was? He was in the midst of building an empire, and there you were, as casual as ever— and so clearly just as confused as he was. A spider-sense suddenly manifesting? Ridiculous.

As soon as you locked eyes, he knew this was all because of you.

God, you were beautiful.

There had been few times he let his instincts take hold of him. He’d made himself into an apex predator in search of his spider abilities— he had to hold himself to a different standard than the rest of you. He was dangerous, and whatever this connection is, was dangerous in turn. 

He couldn’t control it, not yet anyway. And seemingly, you couldn’t either. You were both prey to your most primal desires and irresistibly drawn to the other to satisfy them.

He couldn’t escape your assault on all of his senses. He was fixated on you in every way imaginable. Your smell, your voice, your looks— your taste. 

He cums to the memory of your soft thighs squeezing his head. He heaves shaky breath after shaky breath, trying to gather his composure. It was hollow, fleeting relief. He can’t help but think you could have made it better— He knows you’d have made it better. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in the foggy glass and is immediately disgusted with himself. 

He’d never been this way before. You were part of his team, a fellow hero that decided to join his league. He was your boss, for lack of a better term. This couldn’t go on. At least not the way it was currently.

He needed answers.

He was a scientist. It was time to do some research.

[frankencanon]

One Piece AU: Not only is Buggy's nose fake but it's actually his really pathetic attempt at a disguise.

Buggy has been a part of the Revolutionary Army since he was very small — much like Sabo and Koala — and the first time he had to come up with his own disguise, well...

Let's just say Kid Buggy thought the clown nose was a brilliant idea.

Except, whoopsie! This job unexpectedly ended up being a pretty long term thing when he got picked up (kidnapped) by Gol D. Roger himself.

There wasn't much a kid like Buggy could do against a determined Roger, and he was on the ship and out to sea before he could blink.

And so began Buggy's unintentional journey disguised as a clown-nosed pirate on-board the ship of the Future Pirate King!

—

Unexpectedly, Buggy ends up getting pretty attached to the Roger Pirates, especially Roger himself and fellow apprentice Shanks.

He gets so attached in fact, that in the wake of Roger's execution he elects to not return to Baltigo.

Instead, he humbly requests that Dragon allow him to continue playing his role as Buggy the Clown.

Dragon accepts, but requests that if he's going to camp out in one of the Blues, to do so in the East not too far off Dawn Island.

Buggy accepts, unexpectedly and unknowingly causing Dragon's son to become a pirate (the only reason Shanks was in the East Blue so often was because he was visiting Buggy).

—

But back to the subject of Buggy's "nose"!

There's a reason why he chose something so obvious and distracting...

You might've heard this before, but it's said that if you don't want witnesses to remember what you look like, wear something eye-catching.

It sounds counterintuitive, but if you rob a bank whilst wearing a wedding dress... All that the witness are going to remember when being interviewed is "the robber was wearing a wedding dress".

They're not going to remember what you specifically look like, they're just going to remember the most glaring aspect of your appearance.

Thus, Kid Buggy found the clown nose to be a perfect disguise — who would recognize him without it?

And to really hammer it in, Buggy ended up unintentionally developing a bit of a complex over it.

The first time someone pointed out his clown nose, correctly assuming it to be fake, Buggy panicked and got really defensive about it.

Truthfully, Buggy freaked out because he was worried about being discovered — but from the other pirate's point of view? It just seemed like Buggy had a huge complex over his nose.

And so, Buggy's stupid clown disguise ended up being a really good one...?

Because just taking off the clown nose and make-up makes Buggy literally unrecognizable — he would know, he's tried it!

People who know of Buggy the Clown — people who have seen his face — would recognize him from the back, but when he'd turn around and there'd be no clown nose or make-up they would startle and apologize, saying:

"Sorry, I mistook you for someone else!"

Somehow, unexpectedly, Buggy has wound up with the most iron-clad alibi in the entire Revolutionary Army.

There's not a single person in the world who would guess that Buggy was a part of the RA.

—

BONUS:

With Buggy near constantly stationed by Dawn, Dragon would have no real reason to check-in himself — so what happens to Sabo?

Buggy happens. Buggy finds the kid instead and decides to take him in, training him to be both a Pirate and a Revolutionary with the intention of letting the kid decide for himself which path to follow when he grows up.

And so Sabo ends up with a similar role to Buggy himself, and all his other "crewmembers" — Revolutionaries undercover as Pirates.

(...you can imagine Luffy's shock when he first meets Buggy and his scarred blonde sidekick First Mate over in Orange Town...)

("S-Sabo...?!")

(Or would he not recognize him? What if Sabo mimicked Buggy's disguise? Maybe not the nose, but mixing some clown make-up with his noble shtick... What if Luffy invited him onto his crew having no idea that he was Sabo? Maybe Sabo remembers his name, maybe he doesn't, but either way he might've given Luffy an alias — as he was technically a revolutionary afterall.)

Edit: ...what if his hair was dyed, too? Like, I absolutely adore Buggy's pretty blue hair, but for the sake of the AU... What if that was part of the disguise? Blue hair is definitely far more eye-catching than blonde.

And I'm mentioning blonde specifically because of that one look Buggy had in Stampede:

[androxys]

Favorite Batman Story Tournament - Round 3

Pitting two classics against one another in this matchup! Y'all know the drill by now: fan propaganda below, but feel free to add on more!

Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying

This is a Batman story, a Nightwing story, a Robin origin story, and the foundation of the Batfam storytelling that defines the 90's. It's about grief and legacy and the desire to help and save people, the most important themes of Batman. It's the story that saved the soul of Batman after the death of Jason Todd threatened to send him into a grimdark misery spiral, and reaffirmed the need for hope and teamwork in Batman stories.

Batman (1940) #1

You might be thinking that I put this solely because it's Batman #1- which is partially true, but it also manages to be completely fucking iconic. Batman 1 is simply one of the funniest and most insane Batman stories I've ever read. It's split up into 4 stories of about 13 pages each, and each one hits it out of the park. Number 1 is the Joker's first appearance, and he kills a bunch of people in bizarre and over-the-top clever ways while the police are like "we're sure we'll get him this time". Golden Age Joker was the first incarnation of Joker I actually liked, I love that guy. Number 2 is Hugo Strange making a bunch of people into mutant monsters to commit crimes for him, and Batman shows that he is definitely living in 1940 before the editors decided to pump the brakes because he gives approximately no fucks about anything. He guns multiple people down from the Batplane. He shoots a guy off a building. He hangs a guy from a rope dangling from the Batplane. I think he kills 5 people in this one story. Number 3 is the first appearance of Catwoman, featuring Bruce and Dick trying to stop a succession of robberies on a boat, and there's a 2 page side diversion where Bruce takes all of the robbers' guns and lets Dick fight them solo and then looks directly into the camera to be like, "Wow, looks like criminals are cowards without their guns!! That's why being a criminal is bad and you definitely shouldn't do it, right kids?!" One of the first things Batman ever says to Catwoman is "quiet or papa spank", information I inflicted on all of my friends at the earliest opportunity. Then in number 4 Joker breaks out of prison and comes back and pioneers even more insane murder methods, before completely randomly accidentally stabbing himself in the chest and dying while fighting with Batman (who's just like "lol get rekt"). Joker was actually supposed to die and stay dead, but editor Whitney Ellsworth overruled it at the last minute and threw in 1 panel of a doctor being like "wait this guy's actually alive!!", thus setting up the next 80 years of Joker-filled plotlines. Do I think Batman 1 is objectively good, per se? Maybe not. However I think it's both entertaining and hilarious and the groundwork for so much that comes after, and we should remember our roots.

[decks-writing-blog]

Here to Stay Drabbles: Skeletons

Summary: Will they ever figure out if the skeleton Gordon saw was a hallucination, or something else?

~

Without power the facility was dark and quiet. The further in they went, the more the air seemed to be that of a long forgotten tomb’s. They were grave robbing! … Sort of. It wasn’t a tomb, just felt like one. Which probably had something to do with how many people had died here. They were here to do a little bit of robbing though. Only stuff that should’ve belonged to them but still technically not theirs. Thus they were only sort of grave robbers. Maybe one day they would be real ones. It seemed a fun adventure.

Sans Gordon they were making much better time than even their first trip through. But speaking of that first trip through with Gordon, they were in the part of the facility he’d supposedly seen the skeleton in that no one else could see. Why that mattered enough to slow Harold to stop so he could look around, casting his flashlight along the metal walkways, was a mystery. It was just one of those things that was suddenly important because it was. The time to answer some of the questions surrounding that skeleton had come.

Bubby continued for a bit before slowing and turning to look back at him. “What is it?”

“Do you think that that skeleton Gordon saw the first time we were here is still around?”

Folding his arms over his chest, Bubby glanced around. Before coming back here again for his files, he’d gotten himself one of those fancy miner’s helms, allowing him to cast his light around in the same motion as looking around. Harold would have to suggest they go proper grave robbing later to put it to further use. “I don’t know. Wasn’t that just an hallucination?”

“No.” How Harold knew with such certainty he couldn’t say if asked, it was another one of those things. “It was real. We just didn’t see it.” Gordon had killed it at one point but like with several of their group, death wasn’t final. It had come back and was maybe still around.

Harold could use a Play Cointm for a hint on where to look for more information on the skeleton. … Huh? Normally he couldn’t use the Play Coinstm himself, only Gordon and sometimes Benrey could. Weird. He wasn’t going to dig into the ‘why’ though; ‘why’s sometimes had answers one was better off not knowing. It was just another one of life’s many mysteries.

He looked back up at Bubby. “While we’re here, let’s find out more, shall we?” He used a Play Cointm and the knowledge came into his head. A lab a bit further in, not quite all the way to the lab Bubby had been made in – their destination – but close, a short detour before entering it, would be a good place to look for more information. Normally he’d have said so aloud but he was the one who’d authorized this transaction so… he just resumed walking instead.

Bubby fell in step with him once more. “Did you use a Play Cointm?” Sometimes he had things like Harold did. Seemingly not as often or as strong but it was nice to not be alone. Comforting here for sure because well, it was weird, huh?

“Correct.”

“I thought you couldn’t use them yourself.”

“Normally I can’t. This time something’s different though.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” Other than that, Bubby didn’t respond. He was dropping it. Good. There wasn’t anything to gain from prying at such questions.

~

Once in the proper lab, Harold could use another Play Cointm to know exactly where to look. No need though, it was a fairly small place. Using the port in one of his mechanical arms, he and Bubby plugged and powered on the computers one by one until they found the answers they were looking for.

Black Mesa had summoned a Skeleton King in an attempt to to experiment on it and its minions. The results of which were varied but the basic gist of which was a number of magical skeletons were released into the facility when everything went to shit during the Resonance Cascade. Now wasn’t the time to sort through the whole index to find one that might’ve been the one Gordon saw. But the presence of magic skeletons was all they really needed to know to draw the conclusion that one of them had most likely haunted Gordon for a while.

“Damn,” Bubby said as he looked up from the monitor. “I guess Gordon isn’t crazy after all.”

“No. I do believe he is crazy, just not hallucinating skeletons kind of crazy.” They were all ‘crazy’ after all, weren’t they? Whatever that word even meant. It was certainly used a lot to describe Harold so he at least must be. “We should bring this back for him.”

Bubby sighed. “Yeah, probably we should. Why were they summoning skeletons anyway? I thought this place was all about science. Isn’t magic the opposite of science?”

“I don’t think they necessarily have to be opposed to each other. Sometimes they seem to intertwine, in fact. Gordon’s gun hand for example isn’t scientifically possible and yet exists and functions like a proper gun anyway. And it was made based off scientific research Darnold had done on regeneration.”

“Fair point. Let’s pack up and get going already. I don’t wanna be here any longer than we have to.”

~

[A/N] In case anyone is unaware the 'Skeleton King' thing is referring to the ones on some of the TF2 Halloween maps. Just putting this here in case anyone doesn't know.

[madame-ellunas-moonlit-readings]

May 5 - The Dead Travel Fast

Re Dracula/Dracula Daily

Wow. This one was a longer one. I didn't mind it. It was, again, a very good story. But after chapters just 4-7 minutes, 38 minutes was a touch blindsiding. 😂 Apparently it's because Jonathon wrote an entry long enough to be split into 2 chapters. At first I mistook it for 2 separate entries on the same day. But no, that wasn't the case. Woops. I'll be reacting/writing accordingly, thus the chapters.

I wound up reading the Dracula Daily email while listening to the podcast to better follow it. Until now i had been skimming it, but this was a real read along. I'm glad for the decision because I noticed some interesting differences.

I'll get to that in a bit, moving onto the story.

Chapter 1

Poor Jonathon is not off to a good start. The poor thing can't sleep at all and the scenery is looking jagged and indistinct. Again, very ominous. The days experience was so strange and awful he felt the need to note what his dinner had been so readers wouldn't think him a drunk. It sounded delicious, I was actually kind of jealous. He ate robber steak which is bits of bacon, onion and beef seasoned with red pepper and served as a kebab, paired with a wine called 'Golden Mediasch'. The story calls the kebab style 'cat's meat', which made for an interesting research dip. I'll leave some links down the bottom.

When the coach came it drew quite a crowd. They gawked and stared, making crosses and warding off the evil eye, yelling in various languages words like 'hell', 'witch' and something that was either 'were-wolf' or 'vampire'. My bet's on vampire but who knows, maybe it's both. Wouldn't recommend asking the Count after them though. I love Jon's polyglot dictionary. Seems very useful.

Jonathon's poet tongue made a comeback on the journey. His descriptions of the area are breathtaking (though I suppose I should be extending that praise to Stoker). It starts off with brighter scenery, orchards of apple, plum, pear and cherry (it didn't say they were orchards but I think they were), rolling green hills, grasses, woods and forests. Before gradually turning to darker tones, becoming, rugged, jagged, snowy, shadowy , grey and steep, with large groups of praying peasants. You can feel Jonathon's spirits rise and fall. I enjoyed it rather a bit, got completely absorbed in it.

The scenery and explanations given for the conditions on the roads really show the movement from Winter into Spring. I mean, I know I should've gotten that from the date alone, but I'm from the Southern Hemisphere, be nice. Jonathon continues to make for good source of information. I had no idea the roads in the Carpathians were kept poorly to avoid dangerous misunderstandings and conflict with the Turks. How interesting.

Props to the coachman. He tried to break the tensions with a joke that fell a bit flat. A poor attempt is still an attempt. Though his neck-breaking rush seems to be spooking Jonathon too much for anything from him to work, The other passengers getting worked up isn't helping either. The podcast did this well. Their urging voices really amped up the tension. It did take me by surprise that the rush was an attempt to keep Jonathon from heading to the Count. Again. Props to the man. But unfortunately he was busted.

See, here was where I noticed the difference between Dracula Daily (email) and Re Dracula (podcast). The dialogue for when the driver of the Count's calèche confronted the coachmen are different.

Re Dracula

That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina.

Dracula Daily

"That is why, I suppose, you wished him to go on to Bukovina. You cannot deceive me, my friend; I know too much, and my horses are swift."

The podcast skipped a bit. I can't tell if it was an accident or not. It didn't harm the story, I doubt I'd have noticed at all if I wasn't reading along, but it was different.

Speaking of the calèche, it's mentioned quite a bit so here's what that looks like.

They're sure upping the creep factor of the driver, going on about his gleaming smile, very bright reddish eyes, sharp teeth and the like. Jonathon is definitely regretting his life choices and I agree. Should've listened to your instincts.

The travel just gets creepier and creepier. First they go round and round in a loop along their road while just going forwards. Barrier magic, anyone? Wards perhaps? Then blue fires that seem like wisps and howling spooked dogs that eventually gets taken over by wolves (definitely werewolves). Good luck escaping, Jonathon. I think your paths are closed. But hey, fright of your aside, at least you've made it to the castle, worn and ruined as it looks.

Chapter 2

Poor Jonathon's hindbrain seems to be kicking into action, noticing an odd strength in his driver, an iffy and nightmarish feeling about the place, flames that don't follow known logic and the Count, odd in both appearance and behaviour. But I finally know why he's there in the first place! He's a solicitor! There for business on the purchasing of an estate in London. Not a good sign in regards to Dracula's motives, but still!

Aww, so sweet. Mina seems to be a supportive woman if she's been lecturing him on his view of himself.

It's funny how his concerns were forgotten entirely once food was on the mind. I feel you. It's a bit worrisome, but I feel you. They came back pretty quick when the Count touched him. No Jon. You're not sick and the Count's breath isn't that bad. You're nauseous because your instincts are telling to pack your bags and be on your way. Best listen to them, if you can.

He's not in for a good day tomorrow. Not if he's spent the night letting his mind spin in fear for his life and soul. Good luck.

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

It was an interesting chapter, a very good one. They're certainly headed deep into building the setting. I'm looking forward to seeing how Jonathon Harker's (and how did I only just pick up his surname just now?) first day of work goes.

The promised links on Cat Meat Sellers

[hymneminium]

Vincent is doing some sort of clandestine broadcast "using his own hand-built devices". I don't think you could do that in our 1950s but it's a long way off from a formalized YouTube and Patreon.

To find the passage I ctrl+F'd "debunk". That word is only used there (to refer to people trying to debunk Vincent) and in Vincent's own "Debunking Marshall McLuhan" video title. Nice

Generation P has an essay by Che Guevara's ghost about television. It had some overlap with the things Vincent says about television's "hot"ness. The Generation P essay surprised me because of how specific it was, how it relied on particular facts about televisions instead of a lazy "new things bad". Though that meant it didn't fit well with the rise of the internet. And overall it was still weird Freudo-Buddho-socialist woo

If I had showered recently, I reasoned, then the marks I drew on myself might have gotten washed away. And then I would have had to write them on myself all over again.

This is where I realized that ohhh, Miriam really is weird in a Herschely way too. And then later Ruth. Notable is that Miriam and Ruth had to be pulled into someone else's orbit while Herschel did it to himself (presumably with the help of books).

Herschel Schoen:

As I walked the streets of Brooklyn, New York, my papers were with me, under my shirt and coat, girding my chest and back.  At lunchtime, I strode the halls of Midwood High School with a lordly air, knowing that I was well protected. It was apposite, as well, to place papers upon my face, and my neck, and my scalp, and on all the other parts of my body not covered by clothes.  Each morning, with a king’s smile on my lips, I retrieved the tape dispenser from its drawer at my bedside, and adorned myself in kingly splendor, setting papers fitted for the coming day in their proper places. Upon my head, as was appropriate, I wore a crown. I constructed it with great care.  I gathered up a suitable collection of pages from my papers, and I folded them and taped them together with the utmost subtlety, making a structure out of them which could sit easily on the top of the head, with its proud steeple rising up from the apex of the scalp. I have my Sister, Miriam Schoen, to thank for this.  Long ago, many years before I emerged from the holy shell, she took me aside, and taught me the rudiments of tape-and-folded-paper craftsmanship.  Indeed, the architecture of my crown follows very closely one of the designs which she taught to me, then.

Charles Kinbote (Pale Fire):

I cannot recall without a shudder the lugubrious week that I spent in New Wye before leaving it, I hope, forever. I lived in constant fear that robbers would deprive me of my tender treasure. Some of my readers may laugh when they learn that I fussily removed it from my black valise to an empty steel box in my landlord's study, and a few hours later took the manuscript out again, and for several days wore it, as it were, having distributed the ninety-two index cards about my person, twenty in the right-hand pocket of my coat, as many in the left-hand one, a batch of forty against my right nipple and the twelve precious ones with variants in my innermost left-breast pocket. I blessed my royal stars for having taught myself wife work, for I now sewed up all four pockets. Thus with cautious steps, among deceived enemies, I circulated, plated with poetry, armored with rhymes, stout with another man's song, stiff with cardboard, bullet-proof at long last.

Herschel struggles (early on) to reconcile the idea that his will is absolutely sovereign and perfectly coincides with necessity with the fact that his eschaton hasn't immanentized. Which is presumably why he keeps talking about how he respects his Adversary, and why he latches onto the specific date of Christmas.

But he doesn't seem to struggle to be friends with Frederick while also thinking Frederick is profoundly evil. Maybe that's just an extension of that. If you have to doublethink your way through every day you become good at compartmentalization.

...modern psychiatric terminology? Maybe the present isn't bleeding through for time travel reasons but only to make a better story.

As He breathed, aesthetics set itself against morality for the first time, and wrestled fiercely with its newfound rival, as it so often would over the millennia to follow.  And as He breathed, aesthetics pinned morality firmly to the ground, and held it in place, proving itself the stronger of the pair.  How could it be otherwise?  We are a canvas, first, before we are anything else.

I'm getting reminded of Terry Davis, who believed that people existed before all else to entertain God, like a soap opera. Who angrily asserted that his way of talking to God did not use a Markov chain, that it had to be pure unpatterned randomness. He'd probably have hated LLMs.

A handful of anachronisms so far. The big one is that they apparently invented backward-propagated neural networks during WW2 (including language models??). There's also "giving" as slang. And Vincent records video essays in his bedroom, but the first video essay actually talks about how exclusive the ability to broadcast television is, so I dunno what's going on there.

My first thought is that there's a time traveler, probably Damien Eggert, which meshes in some way with the Santa Claus emendation.

OK now there's a guy on the subway talking into his airpods about dataviz and KPIs. I don't think he's supposed to be here. This isn't just a single time traveler. Reminiscent of the perspective shift in Floornight where people suddenly start talking about XKCDs

[dyhayc]

Little White Lies

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Softcore Pornstar!Fem!Reader (Light Angst Fluff, Smut)

Summary: You lie to everyone about your job in Indianapolis. What happens when Eddie recognizes you from his favourite porn magazines?

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: MDNI 18+ Only, Slight Choking Kink, Praise Kink, Very Light Bondage (He Uses His Hands), Marking, Vaginal Fingering, Protected Sex, PiV Penetration

(I’m not sure what this kink/whatever this counts as, but it’s mentioned a few times that Eddie’s “using” the reader)

A/N: I really don't know what to say. I think this one speaks for itself.

@pixiehollands's For Your Viewing Pleasure inspired this fic! They're a little different, but I've reblogged it, so please read their work as well !! :]

Masterlist

Your friendship with Eddie has lasted for years. You two have always had a strong connection, made stronger by your commitment to truth. As Eddie had so brazenly put it, standing in front of Hawkins High on a humid summer day in 1980: “We’re high schoolers now. All the crazy shit happens here. From now until forever, you have to promise to tell me everything. And I mean everything.”

At the time, you were skeptical. He’s a boy. Obviously, he’s hiding things from you. Why should you tell him everything that you go through? So, maybe a tad too accusatorily, you’d responded: “Sure, but only if you agree to tell me everything, too. I’ve been in your room alone, y’know.”

His face flushed, but he pretended it hadn’t happened. Instead, he spit in his palm and stuck out his hand. You’d been reluctant but had ultimately completed the spit shake. Dutifully, you’d both honoured your bond.

Well… he had dutifully honoured your bond. For example, Eddie had told you, in completely unnecessary detail, about his first time– and how bad it sucked. He’d also told you about his drug dealings, his father, the four times he’d almost gotten robbed in dingy alleyways behind the Hideout, and, of course, the one time the robber succeeded.

You had been a little more lenient, holding out on the more humiliating stories. You’d still told Eddie about a lot of things, though. Like bra shopping with your mother, family drama you’d learned during the holidays, your first time– which had also sucked, and your first period. Granted, the last one was out of necessity. He was the person you’d sent to get pads from the nurse’s office after freaking out in the girl’s bathroom.

Eddie’s also the first to know about many important events in your life. Generally, you tell him news before you let anyone else know, especially about things you’ll share with your family. He’s like a test-run, someone who will give you a preview of your family’s reaction.

Thus, he’s the first person you told about your new job in Indianapolis. You never told him exactly what the job was, but he was pretty broken up about it. After spending years together, you’d have to be separated during the week. You’re still around on weekends, but you’d split that time between him and everyone else you know in Hawkins.

He’d asked if you even needed to work in Indianapolis, but you’d just graduated high school, and money was tight. The job offered a higher salary than anything you could find in Hawkins. Besides, you’d already accepted and signed a contract. There was no turning back.

You’re a model for pornographic photos, to put it bluntly. It’s porn, sure, but it’s softcore porn. The only costars you’ll ever have are other women, and the only consumers will be teenage boys who think a picture of a bra is scandalous.

Was it a bad decision? Probably. But, you’re eighteen, you’re an adult, you can do whatever you want besides legally drinking alcohol. Anyways, you’d negotiated to include anonymity in your contract, meaning you’d never have to show your name or face unless you wanted to.

Your first real shoot was a few days after graduation. You’d pretended that you were going to an orientation and training for your job so nobody would be suspicious. The shoot went much smoother than expected, your nerves only lasting half an hour. One of the other women you’d met said it took her four sessions to get over her camera shyness, so you felt pretty good about the experience as a whole.

Since it was your first time in front of a camera, you’d been able to choose the lingerie and general vibe you wanted to have. You’d never admit this out loud, but you’d selected a set that reminded you of Eddie. It was dark red with black lace and silver metal decorations. The photographer chose a staged room that looked like a haunted house to match your outfit. The photos were a success, turning out nicely. They’d set your first appearance in a magazine for their July edition, two months away.

After your debut, you’d become quite popular. Customers enjoyed your photosets and sent letters to ask for more. The company decided that your next shoot would be angel-themed to contrast with the dark edge of your first photos. Once the set came out, people loved the angel and devil concept, so you’d stuck to those kinds of shoots from then on.

Since your start two years ago, you’ve appeared in thirty-seven magazines. Most of your pages are actually in limited-edition releases, unique to the company you work for. They’re hard to get and released separately from the usual monthly editions. They’re also worth a lot of money, meaning most people can’t get their hands on them.

Which is why you’re so shocked to find an entire box of all the magazines you’ve starred in tucked under Eddie’s bed. First of all, you’d told him multiple times that his bed isn’t the best place to hide things if he wants to keep them a secret. Second of all, even if he’d bought the limited releases when they’d first dropped, his collection would’ve cost him a few hundred dollars, at least.

Maybe he bought them because he liked some other girl in the magazines? But, skimming through the pages, you’re the only one in common between them all. Should you say something? But he can’t know it’s you. If he knew, he would’ve said something. Right?

Not wanting to seem like a creep, you simply slide them back under the bed and pretend you haven’t seen a thing. It’s just in time, too. Eddie comes back and flops onto his bed, right above the magazines. You’ll never look at him the same now that you know they're there.

He immediately notices your odd behaviour, raising his eyebrow, “You okay?”

“Yea,” you lie, wincing at your unsure tone, “just peachy.”

He sits up and leans close to you, squinting, attempting to figure out what’s wrong with you. Nervously, you stand, averting your gaze. He hums but doesn’t say anything more, falling backward to lay on his bed again.

You don’t want to be more suspicious, so you sit on his bed, too. Not liking the uncomfortable silence, you speak before your brain can stop you, “It’s just hot, y’know? This summer is way hotter than I expected.”

His fingers tap together like an evil mastermind. You know from experience that this means he has a plan, one that you probably won’t like. His eyes have a mischievous glint when he looks up at you. “I can hose you down out back. My uncle used to do it when I was a kid and it was too hot.”

“No way in hell are you hosing me down! I’d rather jump into Lover’s Lake naked!”

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t pretend like you haven’t already. I know you’ve skinny dipped in Lover’s Lake. It’s a rite of passage for dumb Hawkins teenagers.”

Scoffing, you hiss, “Are you calling me dumb?”

“You’re my best friend,” he says, rolling onto his front and pausing for dramatic effect, “of course I’m calling you dumb.”

In retaliation, you grab one of his pillows and swing at him. You’re not fast enough, his hand stops the pillow, but it’s not like you were expecting it to land. Throughout your entire friendship, you’ve only won one pillow fight.

Wrenching it from your grip, he places the pillow under his elbows. “All this talk about Lover’s Lake gives me an idea.” You make a face, ready to tell him off for teasing you, but he stops you. “It’s not a joke idea, calm down. Why don’t we go swimming there?”

Well, you weren’t lying when you said it’s hot, and Lover’s Lake is better than boiling to death in his room. You nod, “Okay, but I’m not going naked. I have a swimsuit in my bag.” Decision made, he pushes you off the bed and out of his room so he can change. You spend about a minute rifling through your bag to find your swimsuit. It’s nothing like the ones you wore in high school. Those were one-pieces designed to hide your insecurities.

Showing off your body in front of a camera has dramatically increased your confidence. Your new swimsuit is a two-piece. The bottoms are low-cut, exposing a lot of skin. In high school, you would’ve died at the thought of wearing this swimsuit, but now you’re excited about it. The print is cute, and the style is flattering to your body type.

Like always, Eddie slams open the door, scaring the crap out of you. He laughs at your expense, going to the small closet to grab towels for you both. You enter his room to change with a huff, annoyed with his childishness. You only take a minute, tossing your clothes to the corner of his room.

Reaching over to the bed, you attempt to grab your cover-up. But, wait. Where is it? Looking around, you scoff at your stupidity. Eddie’s scare had distracted you, meaning you’d never brought the damn thing with you. Opening the door, you plan to retrieve it from your bag, but Eddie notices you first.

“I recognize you,” he blurts the second you step out of the room. Both of you are caught off guard, neither expecting his words. You’re lost, like a fish out of water, floundering around for a hint of context. Meanwhile, Eddie is mesmerized, staring holes into your bikini bottoms.

Your breath hitches, realizing your mistake too late. You’d completely forgotten about your scar! You’d gotten it as a child, but it’s in such a private place you’d never shown him in person. Obviously, he’s seen it in his magazines. He walks closer, and you walk backward. Eventually, there’s nowhere to go. You’re trapped between the wall and his body. His finger raises to trace against the scar, stopping at the edge of your swimsuit.

You’re doing everything you can to avoid his gaze, but he’s so close it’s hard to evade. He’s looking down at you so intensely that you have to turn your head. He mumbles, leaning closer to your ear, “Going to the big city to be a pornstar? What happened to the good girl you used to be?” You won’t stand for this slander. Sure, you’re timid, but you haven’t always been good.

“I never was one.”

“No?” he questions, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to your jaw. Feeling the way you tremble at the contact, he continues down your exposed neck. You completely forget your conversation, engrossed in his actions for a moment.

When his lips leave your skin, you remember how to breathe, gasping, “No.”

Testing the waters, he hooks his finger into the elastic band of your bottoms and snaps them back onto your skin. You gasp and jolt at the slight pain but do nothing to stop him. Chuckling, he runs his free hand up your torso. He uses his thumb to guide your head straight, then rests his palm against your throat.

“Really,” he coos mockingly, making eye contact, “because I think you are one. Good girls let their best friends use them however they please. Are you gonna let me use you?”

Is this… his way of asking for consent? Because that might have been the hottest thing anyone’s ever said to you. Looking up adoringly at him, your eyes must have stars shining in them. Vigorously nodding, you grip onto his shirt and gently tug him closer.

He chuckles at your enthusiasm, yet he doesn’t move. You whine, wanting him to do something, but he shushes you, “I need to hear it out loud, princess.”

“Yes, please! Please, Eddie,” you beg, squirming in his grip. You’re silenced with a kiss, teeth and tongues clashing. Typically, this kind of kiss would’ve been terrible, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. His hand applies gentle pressure to your throat, making you hum in pleasure.

He pulls back, only to return to your neck. This time he sucks marks onto you, gently scraping his teeth against your sensitive skin. Searching for friction, your hips cant forward, but he puts a stop to it with a quick squeeze of his hand.

“You take what I give you, nothing more,” he chastizes, barely pulling away from your neck. Sheepishly, you mumble apologies. But he’s smiling against your skin, so you know he’s not actually mad.

Moving his hands, he guides your arms above your head, keeping his hands on your wrists for a moment. Observing his work, he mindlessly rubs his thumbs against the insides of your wrists. Only one side of your neck is marked, he thinks, that won’t do. So, he refocuses on your hands and crosses them so he can grab both with one hand.

Your thighs clench because of how large his hands are. Seriously, how have you never noticed? His free hand lightly smacks the outside of your thigh, and you think he’s going to punish you for breaking your rule, but he doesn’t. Instead, he pulls your leg up, hooking it around his hip. The material of your swimsuits are thin, so it feels like skin-to-skin contact.

The first time he rolls his hips, your eyelids flutter closed. He’s so hard, the outline of his dick visible through his thin swim trunks, and it’s pressing right against your clit. You lose your mind when he starts sucking on the other side of your neck. With the way he’s holding you, you’re unable to move, forced to take at all. Your moans are only increasing in volume. Pretty soon, the entire trailer park will be able to hear you.

Once he’s satisfied both sides of your neck match, he helps you off the wall and lightly pushes you onto his bed. The pose you fall into feels familiar. It was probably in one of the magazines under his bed, considering how he looks at you. Timidly, you close your legs and cross your arms over your chest.

“Why are you so shy, princess? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” he points out, moving closer to the edge of the bed.

It’s a little different when you’re laid out in front of him in real life, his eyes watching your every move. A little intimidated, you raise your hands to cover your face, giggling nervously. Eddie smiles softly at you, whispering, “You’re making it hard to be mean, pretty girl.”

“Sorry, Eddie,” you whisper behind your hands, watching him through the cracks in your fingers. He lightly grabs your wrists and brings them to his face, kissing your palms gently before placing them on his cheeks.

Your fingers slide further, tangling in his hair, as he suggests, “Why don’t we take off your top, hmm?” His hands trace the wire of the cups absentmindedly until you nod and lift your chest so he can remove it. The garment is tossed randomly over his shoulder, eyes focused on your boobs.

“You’re prettier in person,” he mumbles, leaning down to trail his lips all over your chest. Slowly, his kisses turn to bites, leaving an array of hickeys as he had with your neck. He sighs, sounding almost disappointed, “I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner.”

“I know,” you murmur, running your hands through his hair and tugging when he hits a sensitive spot. His mouth travels lower and lower, finally hovering over your bottoms. He hooks his fingers into the waistband and pulls them down, watching them peel off your soaked pussy.

He stops for a moment to admire you, licking his lips. Lightly, he traces over the inside of your thigh with a single finger, trailing it closer and closer to where you want him most. You remember the rule from earlier, though, and keep your hips still. As a reward, he slips a single finger in.

You gasp at the sudden intrusion. Eddie’s fingers are much thicker than yours are. Involuntarily, your walls flutter around him as he brings his thumb up to circle your clit while his pointer finger thrusts in and out of you. When you’re ready, he adds a second and a third a few minutes later. You’re so close, on the brink of cumming, when he abruptly stops. You gape at him, kind of upset because of the fading orgasm, though you know he’ll make up for it. Or, at least, he’d better make up for it.

Pulling out his fingers, he spreads them apart to watch the lines of slick web between each knuckle. Wordlessly, he grabs a condom from his bedside table and tears open the package with his teeth. You watch, now entranced, as he slides it on and uses the wetness on his hand to lube the outside of the condom.

Satisfied, he turns his attention back to you. His hands yank you to the edge of the bed, ensuring you’re steady before releasing your hips. He drags the tip of his cock through your folds, gathering even more slick. You’ve never had sex with someone in this position, your legs forced to wrap around him if you want to stay balanced.

He pushes slowly in, and your breath catches. It’s not painful, just a lot. His dick is much bigger than his fingers, so he stretches you open.  Pausing only when he’s deep in your guts, he gives you time to adjust, leaning down and pressing soothing kisses to the darkening marks he’d left everywhere on your body.

You’re grateful for the short grace period, but after all the build-up, you need him now. Angling your hips, you attempt to move on your own, but he pushes your hips back down. “I thought I told you to take what I give you? Don’t start being bad now.”

“Sorry, I’m really sorry, please just move. Please, please,” you beg, devolving into whimpers of pleas. Taking pity on you, he complies, gently rocking in and out of you. Again, it’s not enough, but you don’t want him to be mad, so you continue to beg for more instead of moving yourself.

Even under all the lights and cameras you’d never felt so heavily scrutinized. His eyes are keen, watching every movement, gauging every reaction. It almost feels like you’re a photo in one of his magazines, and he’s using your body to jerk off. The mental image sends a thrill up your spine, to be used for pleasure in such a way– but that’s a thought to file away and psychoanalyze another day.

His resolve appears to be crumbling, his hands planting themselves on either side of your body as he ruts into you. His pace is steadily increasing, causing your orgasm to build back, the pleasure burning low in your gut. Your voice has been reduced to moans, higher and higher in pitch the faster he goes.

Gathering all your willpower, you beg him one last time to go faster. “Are you sure,” he grits out in return, “I might not be able to stop.” How is it possible for him to say the hottest things without even realizing it?

“Please! I don’t care, don’t stop, please,” you cry, nails scratching trails down his back. He finally lets loose, not holding back. It’s impossible, but you swear his dick hits deeper every time he pushes in.

Each thrust hits hard, inching you away from the edge. Splaying his hand flat on your torso, Eddie prevents you from being pushed backward on the bed. His other hand grips the junction of your left thigh and hip, ensuring you won’t go too far away from him.

Both your hands fly to his forearm, holding on tightly, hoping to ground yourself in the moment. Your walls are clenching uncontrollably, needing a little push to fall over the edge. You cry only his name, but he understands what you need, reaching his hand to rub messy circles over your clit. You’re both on the brink of release, so it’s much clumsier than when he fingered you, but it feels just as good– if not better.

You’re the first to orgasm, clenching your eyes shut as all senses besides pleasure fade from view. Eddie isn’t very far behind, however. His cum fills the condom, but you swear you can feel the warmth seep through. He pulls out and takes it off, tying the end. Lightly, you crack your eye open to make absolutely sure the condom didn’t break before shutting them in exhaustion.

Eddie crawls onto the bed and drops right on top of you, face-planting in your boobs. Giggling, you try to push him off, but your limbs feel like jelly, so you give up. A comfortable silence falls over you both, content to lay down and chill for a while.

You feel relaxed– until you don’t. Your insecurities come bubbling up, despite what you do to stop them. It shouldn’t matter, it really shouldn’t, but you have to ask, “Are you actually angry that I do what I do?”

“Angry?” he questions, pulling back to study your face. You find it harder and harder to keep his gaze, afraid of what you’ll find. He chuckles, “Sweetheart, as long as you’re not committing felonies, I won’t be angry with you– money’s money. I’m a drug dealer. I don’t have any room to judge.”

A little sheepish, you mumble, “Well, you just seemed so… intense.”

He full-on laughs this time, which you think is a little unfair. It was a genuine question, after all. “Intense?” he repeats, pressing his face between your breasts to muffle his laughter. His ringed hands press against your sides, moulding the skin there. “That wasn’t me being intense,” he corrects, raising his head to rest his chin on your sternum, “that was all jealousy.”

He pouts a little, “I’m sad I didn’t get to see your titties before millions of other men worldwide.”

Laughing, you shake your head at his ridiculousness. Was he seriously upset because he saw your boobs after other people did? “Eddie, you’re silly,” you tease, scratching his scalp. “If you asked sooner, I would’ve shown you my boobs. Even in high school.”

Astonished, he exclaims genuinely, “Wait! If I had asked earlier you would’ve shown me your boobs! Why hadn’t I thought of that!��� Both of you crack up again, but you don’t bother speaking again when the laughter dies. The silence talks louder than the words you could’ve said.

[skzsauce01]

Public Relations

Synopsis: The SweetHeart of Seoul discovers that the Bad Boy of Busan isn’t that bad after all. Or, you really hate what your job entails sometimes. Superhero AU inspired by The Boys, BNHA, and idol culture.

Warning: alcohol, fighting

Word Count: 7.9k

Pairing: fem!superhero!reader x superhero!IN

Jihyo starts briefing you about this weekend’s events before you’ve had your daily dose of caffeine, so you think you’re having auditory hallucinations when she informs you of your upcoming team-up with Flashfire.

“The Bad Boy of Busan?” you interrupt. “That Flashfire?”

“Is there another one I don’t know about?” she impatiently says. Looks like she hasn’t had any coffee either. Or maybe way too much, considering that the Prince of Shadows, face of the SeoulHero Company, landed in the hospital last night after what was supposed to be a simple confrontation with a group of bank robbers. “Yes, him. Any other questions before I move on to your scheduled lunch with him today?”

It’s the wrong answer, but you ask, “Why?”

“He’s on loan to us while Prince’s out, which means all your team-ups and appearances with Prince are now with him, including the launch party for Hero Face over the weekend. And don’t you dare try getting out of it again. Nayeon told me all about your little stunt last week.”

Apparently, Nayeon had access to all of your family’s genealogy and international death records, and thus, your distant relative’s funeral was exposed as fake. But to be fair, attending a launch party for SeoulHero’s new makeup line sounds incredibly counterproductive as a supposed superhero.

“Why couldn’t he have picked a better time to get hurt?” Jihyo continues. “The face of SeoulHero doesn’t show up for Hero Face? Now half of our faces are from Busan Defenders. This whole launch was designed around you two, and he just had to ruin it. Freaking face, heart, and soul.”

Face, heart, and soul. Prince, you, and Seoul.

Ever since SeoulHero hired you, it has always been made clear that you are Heart, the good girl, the SweetHeart of Seoul, the Nations’ Heartbeat, and whatever other ridiculous nicknames the media has created for you. You are the wholesome hero, everyone’s favorite.

Perfect, flawless Heart.

“What about Tigerlily and Dandy?” you suggest. “How about they be the main guests instead of me? It’ll be good for their ratings too.”

Jihyo looks like she’s ready to throttle you. In an eerily calm voice, she says, “This is not about them. This is about the company. Look, I know you mean well, but contracts are contracts. You are going to the party, and you are going with Flashfire. Any other questions?”

You shake your head. An intern comes into the conference room with a cardboard holder full of coffees and places two down on the table between you and Jihyo. He whispers an apology, receiving a saccharine smile from Jihyo and a terse one from you.

The drink is cold.

You take it with you to your scheduled lunch with Flashfire. You’ve seen him create blazing infernos before on TV; heating up some coffee should be nothing.

Lunch is in the cozy café inside of SeoulHero headquarters, a surprise considering that any and all sightings you share with another hero, especially if they’re a young man, garners an outrageous amount of publicity. But for some reason, Jihyo wants to keep this business meeting under wraps. She even made you change out of your costume into civilian clothes for the occasion.

The café is strangely empty, with only two customers inside. You wouldn’t put it past Jihyo to have arranged for some fancy lunch catering so the team-up can truly be a surprise. She’s not the only leaker in the company.

You’ve nestled yourself in your favorite corner booth, surrounded by birch planters and an abundance of ivy trailing from the hanging pots. The glass windows are covered with opaque white curtains, shielding you from prying eyes walking through the third floor. However, the best part has to be its close proximity to the kitchen. The world-class pastry chef lets you try their new desserts before anyone else, and they’re so much better than those little cakes you’re forced to promote.

This is your little oasis.

You idly flip through the menu while waiting for Flashfire to arrive. You only know him through news reports and the trending hashtags on social media, and you’re certain he only knows you that way as well. Jihyo makes sure you go viral every time you walk out of a fight unscathed.

Which means just about every time you apprehend a villain.

While Flashfire has his flames and Prince his shadows, you have rapid regeneration. Your wounds stitch together in the blink of an eye, leaving only artfully messy hair and splotches of dirt as evidence of your battle. It makes for great pictures.

A soft thud across from you makes you glance up from the pictures of artisan pizza. A pair of dark sunglasses stare back at you. The embroidered cartoon dinosaur on the accompanying baseball cap waves hello. If you didn’t know that you were meeting the Bad Boy of Busan of today, you would have never thought that he wore oversized argyle sweaters. Judging by his hero costume, he seems more like a tight black shirt guy. Though if you’re judging by hero costumes, you suppose you seem more like a frills and flounce skirts type of girl rather than hoodies and sweats.

“Hi,” you say after a moment, holding out your hand. You don’t bother with your real name since this is a business meeting after all. “I’m Heart. Nice to meet you.”

“Flashfire. Hello, Heart. So,” he says after he’s finished shaking your hand, “you’re the Nation’s Heartbeat. The next IU.”

“No, I’m just Heart,” you quickly say. You’re not trying to be modest either. IU, nicknamed the Nation’s Hero and the Hero’s Hero, is exactly who the company is setting you up to be, and while you adore her and admire her, you don’t want to live in her shadow forever. The comparisons started the moment you were unveiled.

“A girl with healing powers and a smile like that? You’re going to have the whole world wrapped around your finger,” said everyone at the company. “You’re our IU,” didn’t need to be explicitly stated.

“So, Seoul,” you abruptly say. “How familiar are you with the city? Have you been here before?”

“I came here a few times for a mission last year, and I did my hero internship here, so I know this place pretty well. Anything else?”

You don’t even know why Jihyo scheduled this lunch. “Can you heat this up for me?” you ask, pushing the cold coffee towards him.

“I make fire. I’m not a microwave.”

That feels more like what you expected. Nevertheless, he ignites a small flame on the palm of his hand and holds the environmentally-conscious cup above it, being careful not to set fire to the paper. You watch with fascination as he warms the drink all over. Curls of steam begin to rise from the small opening at the top.

With a satisfied look, he sets your coffee in front of you. “Can I see your healing in real time then?”

“It’s only fair.” You roll up your hoodie sleeve and present him with your bare wrist. “Go and burn me.”

When his hand clasps around your wrist, you note that they’re strangely colder than they were when he shook your hand. However, that thought fades into nothingness. The sun has crash landed onto your arm.

When Flashfire draws his hand back, your charred muscle and scalded skin immediately begin to knit itself back together. The pain is blinding, and lava pools of heat gather at where scar tissue would be. Rapid regeneration always hurts more than actually getting injured.

Flashfire’s fingers ghost over your newly smooth skin. “No scars? Wow.”

White stars flicker behind your eyes as you yank your sleeve down. “A fourth degree burn is not comparable to heating up a drink.”

“Sorry,” he says, and he does sound apologetic. “I didn’t realize how hot that was.”

“By the looks of it, the team-up mission is going to be easy,” you reply. The pain has subsided, but you can still feel the prickle of fire. “Did your company tell you about it?”

Team-ups are just another PR stunt. The companies, with their vast network of spies, receive notice of future crimes and send their heroes to the right spot at the right time. You haven’t come across any manufactured crimes yet, but with the way SeoulHero’s PR team likes to operate…

But the one this weekend is real: a bank heist in relation to the one Prince was supposed to have stopped. Evidently, the thieves got away when he was left with half of his brain on the floor.

Flashfire nods. “Yeah.”

Jihyo really wants to keep you busy from doing actual superhero things, it appears. Patrolling the block again isn’t all that exciting, but it’s something productive at least. What even is the point of this meeting? “Well, since there’s nothing left to discuss, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You throw your hood over your head and are about to get up when Flashfire holds up the cream-colored menu. “You don’t want to eat lunch? I’ll pay.”

The prospect of the café’s spicy chicken sandwich makes you hesitate, but you shake your head. “I should get going. The streets aren’t going to patrol themselves.”

“The SweetHeart of Seoul indeed,” he teases as he flips open the menu, shaking his head in mock amusement. “Don’t forget your coffee.”

You can still hear him chuckling to himself when you leave. Your face is hot, but it has nothing to do with your powers.

SweetHeart of Seoul.

Why did that have to be your nickname?

The bank heist is set to occur at 4:45 on a Saturday morning, which means you are in your hero costume by 4:30 and at the intersection by 4:40. The bank alarms have already gone off, and you’re just waiting for the robbers to come storming out. Squad cars have blocked off the streets in preparation, but two news vans are conveniently parked at the department store parking lot. Several more reporters from SeoulHero are waiting in stores, and you know Jihyo has sent an intern to record phone footage from an apartment building landing. Meanwhile, Flashfire is waiting in an alleyway somewhere.

Long ago, before you knew about the need for footage, you strolled right into a jewelry store and stopped the thieves before they were able to take all the diamond rings they desired. You handcuffed them. The police came and took them away. The company scolded you for not allowing the camera crew to capture anything and put you on probation for two weeks.

So now you obediently stand outside with perfect hair and makeup, waiting for the perfect action shots.

It’s all so contrived, but the media eats it up. Jihyo gets hashtags trending, fans make edits of you walking through a hail of bullets, and you continue working as a hero.

The heavy double doors of the bank burst open, the alarms blaring even louder. You run across the street in your silly heeled boots and impractical sweetheart-neckline bodysuit. The flared pink skirt—only added back because your approval ratings went down with women with daughters—swishes, giving you your own entrance music.

The trio of robbers shoot at you. You either dodge the bullet or absorb the damage completely, trying to keep a straight face as you heal. Your bodysuit is bulletproof, but the impact is still there. You distantly wonder if Flashfire just shoots out a blast of fire and completely melts the thing.

“Drop your weapons now!” you shout. You’re nearly there now.

As anticipated, they don’t comply and continue firing. However, Flashfire leaps out of his hiding spot and launches a fireball, scattering them into two directions. He goes after the duo, which leaves you the one with metal arms. If you had to guess, this is who Prince faced on Thursday night.

“Put your hands up where I can see them!” you tell him. Useless police protocol against someone with powers.

He gives you a wicked smile. “Let’s see how fast you heal, SweetHeart.”

He slams a fist into your stomach, knocking you back against a car, leaving a you-sized dent on the doors. Your ribs crack and then start to reform. Perhaps your skull has been cracked too. Black and white spots appear before your eyes, and you can vaguely make out Metal Arms heading your direction. Out of the corner of your eye, Flashfire duels with the other assailants, sending flames and smoke everywhere.

You stand up, steadying yourself with the car door mirror. Before he can land another hit on you, you swing your heeled boot between his legs and kick him down, making sure that his head lands hard against the streetlight. Luckily, your aim is good. He slumps down to the pavement, unconscious.

Cameras flash, reporters swarm you. Flashfire appears beside you as police officers begin hauling the criminals away. Someone thrusts a microphone between you two, and the barrage of questions begin.

“Flashfire, what are you doing in Seoul?”

“Heart, how did it feel to take down the criminal the Prince of Shadows didn’t?”

“Flashfire, is it true that you’re switching to SeoulHero?”

“Heart!” “Flashfire!” “Heart!” “Flashfire!”

Somehow, you manage to answer everything with grace. The years of media training have worked wonders for you, and you smile through the painful healing, hoping that you’re looking into a camera. It’s hard to tell if the white light is from yourself or the reporters. Next to organs, bones hurt the most. Flashfire has put an arm around you, and you’re grateful that there is something to stabilize your shaking form.

“Heart!” someone shouts, their voice sounding too familiar for a stranger. You squint and focus on the person, suppressing a choke when your vision clears a little. Beneath the strawberry blonde wig and the circular glasses, is the face of a woman you know all too well. Jihyo gives you a big, bright smile before bringing her mic to her lips. “Can you confirm the recent rumors that you and Flashfire are a couple?”

She holds up her phone, a picture of you and Flashfire sharing a table yesterday at the SeoulHero café. That’s why she had you arrive in civilian clothes.

The cameras capture your shocked face and Flashfire’s equally as stunned one. Another flurry of questions start. His hand feels hot against your arm, and you wriggle out of his hold.

“That’s all the time we have for questions today,” you say into an outstretched mic. Jihyo won’t stop smiling at you, and every part of you burns with embarrassment. “Thank you.”

You can’t fly, so you have to settle for briskly walking back to the car you arrived in. With your partially obscured vision, you twist your ankle as you stumble over a dip in the street, and a dual pain shoots up your leg. Flashfire, who shadows you even though he came in a separate car, guides you the rest of the way when he hears your frustrated growl. SeoulHero’s “security” team tries to prevent the crowd from following, but you know that SeoulHero’s news crew will be allowed to get up close.

“Can you comment on the rumors?” “Flashfire, is this true?”

Everyone keeps their distance from Flashfire but eagerly flock around you. As much as you would love to push past them, you can’t do so in fear of them retaliating. Headlines of “SweetHeart of Seoul Not So Sweet After All?” flash behind your eyes. That would be more than two weeks of probation.

After a delicate dance with the paparazzi, you duck inside the waiting car. Flashfire slides in beside you and slams the door shut. Moments later, Jihyo, now with her usual brown bob, gets into the front seat.

“Drive,” she commands the chauffeur.

“What was that?” you explode. Thank goodness the windows are tinted, so no one can see how angry you are.

“That was the Hero Face launch being saved. Oh, and such a great move, Flashfire, putting an arm around her. Really sold the idea.”

You whip towards him, the seatbelt catching you mid-turn. “You knew about this?”

“I didn’t. That’s a breach of contract,” he says to Jihyo, but she doesn’t seem to care.

“You should have read it more carefully then. You’re on loan to us, so you’re under our jurisdiction as long as it doesn’t harm your public image. I got approval from Busan Defenders just in time too. Thank goodness I had the foresight to pack that wig.”

“I’m the Bad Boy of Busan,” he says. “Any non-work connection I have to the SweetHeart of Seoul—”

“Is going to make your numbers go up. People love a good romance.”

“And what about me?” you fiercely say. Is that a headache or your skull still being repaired? “They’re going to think I’ve been ‘corrupted’ or whatever. I’ve done so many stupid things to uphold this good girl image that you imposed on me, and you just destroyed it in two seconds. Fantastic job, Jihyo.”

She shrugs, typing away on her phone. “Did I? Bad guy, good girl—that’s the kind of romance people love. Hashtag HeartFire. Cute, isn’t it?”

The only sound is of the asphalt crunching beneath the tires. You’re bubbling with rage, Flashfire is staring out the window with an unreadable expression, and Jihyo is busy fueling the flames of a nonexistent relationship. With nothing kind to say and the threat of probation looming over your head, you keep your mouth shut. Instead, you focus on the wrinkles of your white over-the-knee boots.

The house always wins.

You and Flashfire have been forbidden to leave company grounds until the party tomorrow night. Not for your own protection but because there will be more buzz if you do, and that would interfere with the launch.

Fortunately, your apartment, a housing accommodation by SeoulHero, is on company grounds, so at least you can weather the PR storm from the comfort of your couch. You flip through the channels, reaching for another handful of Flashfire Hot Chips whenever you see a report about the world’s fakest romance.

“How are you so calm about this?’ you ask, dusting the crumbs off from your hoodie.

Since Flashfire’s temporary living quarters are two floors above you, he has decided to accompany you while you fume. He brought snacks as well, which is why you let him in in the first place. “This isn’t the worst thing in the world.”

“They went behind your back and made your private life public. Sounds pretty bad to me.”

“It’s just a PR stunt. It happens all the time, and this isn’t even real. Why does it matter so much to you?”

Of course he doesn’t care; with the number of alleged one-night stands he has had and the string of broken hearts behind him, he has scandals aplenty. This is just a Flashfire regular. However, your record is so clean, it sparkles. Jihyo scrubbed all the “unpalatable” bits from history and made sure that you would be perfect, flawless Heart.

“It’s a betrayal of trust, for one,” you tell him instead as you rip open another bag. “Secondly, I don’t like being a pawn, especially for something I couldn’t care less about.”

“We’re heroes.” His bravado fades, a sigh hanging onto his lips. “That’s the price we pay if we want to save the world.”

“You’re jaded.”

“And you’re new to this. It’s your, what, third year?”

“Three years total but second professional year.”

It’s been three years since you went to the SeoulHero Company’s auditions with a backpack full of weapons. By the time you got to the homemade Molotov cocktail, they were already gathering papers for you to sign. A year of internships later, you made your grand debut as Heart.

His lazy smile is faraway, clouded with something you can’t discern. “Well, it’s going to be my seventh. You’ll get used to it.”

You remember seeing articles about Flashfire’s early debut. He was still a teenager but a prodigy with masterful control of his superpowers. Busan Defenders signed him immediately.

“It’s to drum up interest for the thing, so it’s not going to be forever,” he continues. “If it makes you feel any better, I’ll deny it at the party, say you were telling me about Seoul—”

“Which was what we were doing anyway.”

“—since I’m covering for Prince. Easy, right?”

It does sound easy. Just a “no” would destroy the narrative, and you would be free from one less restriction. But you shake your head, crumpling up an empty bag in a vain attempt to quell your disappointment. “Thanks, but I’ll be put on probation for a whole year if you do. It’s one night, right? I can handle it. Yeah, it’ll be fine.”

Flashfire doesn’t seem to believe you, but the truth is, you don’t believe it either. Jihyo’s plans are never so simple.

Hero Face’s party officially begins at six o’clock, but since you’re one of the guests of honor, you’re allowed to be late. Hence, why you are still being made presentable at seven.

Momo, your makeup artist since your inception as Heart, is dusting your cheekbones with the Brand New Specially Formulated Hero Highlighter, and Jeongyeon, Prince’s usual stylist, is hairspraying your hair into oblivion. Meanwhile, you’re doing your best not to make too many faces. According to your phone, there is currently a four-car pileup on the highway. You should be there.

“Seven thirty,” Jihyo reminds everyone in the vicinity. “If anyone is late, you will be fired. And Heart, if you try anything tonight—”

“I know. Probation.”

“No, even worse. I’m going to make you go to every single promo event we have.” Despite her icy words though, she sweetens her tone when she directly addresses you. “Just grin and bear through it, okay? I know I’ve been hard on you lately, but my own promotion is counting on this. Please don’t ruin it for me.”

You feel a twinge of guilt, but it quickly shrivels up when you remember all the things she ruined for you, namely not being able to drink your favorite brand of soju because of a sponsor conflict. “You got all the buzz you needed for the launch party. What else do you need? Me to kiss Flashfire?”

“That would be perfect, yes.” At your glowering expression, she rolls her eyes. “Mostly kidding. Just stay until the press stuff is over and don’t do anything dumb. Stick with Flashfire all night and pretend to be excited. If anyone asks, you two are dating.”

“I’m not going to lie about the relationship,” you lie, “so you better keep those mics and cameras away from me.”

She stands up straight and flips her bob back, looking down at you in the makeup chair. A smug smile curves across her face, and you know she has seen right through your words. “Heart, don’t try to threaten me. Leave that to the villains. You’re too good for that.”

After she walks away—probably to yell at some unsuspecting intern for breathing too loudly—Momo sympathetically pats your shoulder. “Don’t waste your energy on her. She’s not worth it. Let’s get you dressed now.”

The stylists put you in a creamy pink dress with puffy sleeves and a long flouncy skirt. It’s more romantic than your usual ensembles, but this is what Jihyo is trying to sell. Your only consolation is that they at least didn’t give you a sweetheart neckline.

As Sana helps you into your heels, Jeongyeon arranges the tendrils of hair around your forehead, mumbling to herself as she does so. Seven thirty is fast approaching, and you have to get down to the party in SeoulHero’s main lobby by then. Someone hands you a pearl-handled clutch, and you mindlessly drop your phone in. According to one of Sana’s long ago fashion lectures, a good look isn’t complete with a good accessory. Sana also says that no, an opaque veil does not count, and no, she can’t hide your pretty face like that.

“Done,” Jeongyeon breathes, practically pushing you to Flashfire. He’s been lounging on a couch for the past ten minutes. Unlike his typical outfits, his black suit jacket is actually buttoned up tonight, revealing only a thin triangle of skin instead of his whole chest.

“Should we get going before Jihyo yells at us?” you say in lieu of a greeting. “You look nice, by the way. Less… scary.”

Though he shrugs at the compliment, a hint of a blush appears on his cheeks. “I like it a lot better than what they usually put me in. Do they only let you wear pink?”

Your hero costume is pink and white, and that color scheme stays for all your company-selected outfits. “Gotta stay on brand.”

“Don’t I know it. You look pretty though. Pink’s your color.”

“SeoulHero certainly thinks so too,” you say, not even bothering to hide your derision. “Let’s get this over with.”

However, from the shadows, Jihyo springs upon you two right before the elevator doors close. “Flashfire, put your arm around her, and Heart, before you say anything, I was going to make Prince do this with you too. Don’t ruin this for me, and I won’t ruin it for you. Have fun and remember: face, heart, and soul.”

“Face, heart, and soul,” you hollowly repeat back. You press the ‘CLOSE DOOR’ button, and the doors mercifully close.

The ride down is quiet, with only the soft intermittent chimes of the floor numbers disrupting the silence. Flashfire hovers his arm around your waist, waiting for you to give him express permission. On the third floor, you say, “Go ahead.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. It’s just for a little bit.” You sigh and smooth the skirt of your dress. “I trust you.”

The doors open, revealing the crowd of media personnel and guests that have been invited. The bright lights leave no one in the shadows and nowhere to hide. Numerous cameras capture the opulent party and its attendees. From the second you and Flashfire step out, all eyes are on his hand on your waist.

Lia, a reporter from SeoulHero, has been waiting for this orchestrated moment. “And here with us now are two of the world’s greatest heroes. Heart, Flashfire, you two look so amazing tonight. I have to ask, are you wearing Hero Face?”

You answer her preplanned questions with ease, embellishing your love for the Clinically Proven Enhanced Formula Dewy Foundation. Flashfire, who has been briefed, gets a few softball questions about the launch and his career. He holds you gently the entire time. His hand burns in a way that is unrelated to his powers as you wait for Lia to ask your least desired inquiry.

“You two are looking pretty cozy together,” she says, even though there is a noticeable gap between you and Flashfire, “and we all want to know: is HeartFire a thing?”

“I don’t know,” Flashfire says, looking at you. “Is it?”

Lia and Flashfire are waiting with anticipation, and about half the room is as well. “I don’t know either,” you finally answer. You give Lia a big, bright smile, reminiscent of Jihyo’s. “What do you think?”

The panic is clear in her eyes. “That adorable picture of two having lunch makes me think you are.”

She needs you to confirm it. You can’t outright deny it since that will definitely land you into hot water, so you keep smiling through your distress like she does and hope that she bows out first. Fortunately, Flashfire has found the way to get out of the situation.

“Is that IU?” he says with perfect incredulity.

Even though you know IU respectfully declined the invitation, you are still fooled and look towards the entrance like everyone else. In the meantime, Flashfire practically pushes you out the clutches of the media as they start swarming the glass double doors.

“Thanks,” you say once you two are hidden behind one of the giant ice sculptures commissioned for the event.

“That’s what heroes do.”

You laugh at his overly serious tone. “We can’t do that for all of the other interviews though. What are we going to do?”

Flashfire rolls his shoulders back and glances at the dispersing herd of reporters who are certainly upset that IU isn’t actually here. “They don’t call me the Bad Boy of Busan for no reason.”

After more interviews from different news outlets where Flashfire essentially dodged the question by creating various distractions and after several thousand pictures, you and he head to the penthouse level where the real party is taking place. To your relief, there are no reporters, and the only cameras are those from the attendees. Most of the guests—investors, board members, other invited heroes and celebrities—have already arrived, drinking peach colored champagne as they airily laugh at witty jokes. The lights tint everything gold, and the bright city lights from below only emphasize how exclusive this party is.

“We’re free,” you sigh as you sink into a nearby couch. You think your face is going to be stuck in that simpering, smiling expression forever. “That was amazing.”

“Nothing I haven’t done before.” He also sighs. “You’re not going to get in trouble, are you? Your PR person sounded pretty serious.”

“I’ll be fine. She wanted publicity, we got her some. If you get into trouble, just tell her I made you do it. I’m so done with this.”

It’s almost sweet that he sounds concerned when he asks, “You’re not thinking of retiring, are you?”

“I’m just tired of the facade. I wanted to be a superhero to help people, not to sell random things. I know it’s part of the job, but I wish that it wasn’t so much of it.”

There’s another round of silence. A waiter comes by with a tray of champagne glasses, but you shake your head when he holds it out to you. Flashfire takes one, sips on it for a second before making a sour face and setting it down. Your clutch resting on your lap keeps vibrating with phone calls, no doubt from Jihyo.

“Shouldn’t you answer that?” he says.

One look at the screen confirms your suspicions—sixteen missed calls and a slew of messages you have no intention of looking at. You power off your phone, but not before you spot the news alert of a jewelry store break-in on the other side of the district.

With a renewed sense of spirit, you stand up, pushing back the unfamiliar pink skirt at your legs. “You wanna do some hero stuff?”

It’s an easy mission, one that you and Flashfire complete within a minute of arrival, since none of the thieves have powers. After the police arrive, you pluck pieces of glass shrapnel from your arm, barely wincing when you break the repaired skin. Still fascinated, Flashfire stares.

“It’s not that exciting,” you remark as you pull at the last remaining visible one. You’re going to have to dig through with tweezers and scalpels later for the smaller fragments.

“Yeah, to you. You’re practically invincible.”

You shrug. The remnants of the store’s broken window crunches with the sidewalk beneath your boots as you start walking back to the company car you borrowed. Technically, you don’t have permission to use it, but the newly hired employee at the garage doesn’t know that.

“Patrol?” you suggest. “Unless you want to go back to the party. I have to drop off the car back at the garage anyway.”

“We’re patrolling on foot?”

“I always do.”

He contemplates it for a second. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The two of you somehow manage to avoid Jihyo and her horde of interns when Flashfire returns the car and while you scrape through your skin for remaining shards. Your party outfit and phone are somewhere on your living room floor, haphazardly covered with a throw blanket in case someone, namely Jihyo, comes searching. After all those calls and messages, she must be.

But you fulfilled your end of the bargain: you stayed until the press interviews finished. You have no idea what Flashfire’s contract entails, but he didn’t seem too bothered by your suggestion. That might be because of who he is though and not necessarily because of a legal obligation.

You weave through the streets and alleys with efficiency, stopping to wave at gawking passersby. Less than discreet phone cameras take pictures of you and your PR stunt. When a teen girl asks you why you aren’t at the Hero Face party, you loudly reply that herowork is more important. Someone nearby whistles in agreement.

The girl mercifully asks Flashfire, “Did Heart make you come with her?” instead of “Are you dating Heart?”

You look at him with the same question on your face. He willingly came, but if he wants to keep up his persona, he’ll say otherwise. A similar concern must have crossed his mind since he replies, “Don’t forget that I’m a hero too,” not quite answering the question.

It’s a satisfactory response for them.

“We have to keep moving, but thanks for coming out to say hi,” you tell them. You take long strides forward, Flashfire following behind, and a path opens. Some thank you for your work, and a sense of fulfillment wells up inside you. This part of being a superhero you love—the people’s joy and their warmth.

“They really love you,” Flashfire remarks as he glances back. A few curious stragglers lurk by, but they’re too shy to approach when two heroes are walking side by side, their steps purposeful and their eyes watchful.  “I think that man almost fainted when you smiled at him.”

“They love you too.”

“Not in the same way as you. Is this your usual route?” he abruptly asks. Dressed in his tight-fitting all-black costume, he’s difficult to make out beneath the shadows of the tall buildings.

“It changes every time,” you answer, “so no one knows my patterns. Jihyo wanted me to stick to one for publicity, but screw that. How do you do it in Busan?”

At the mention of his home city, he brightens a bit. “I stick with one route in the day, mostly so I get lunch at this deli. They’ve got the best bulgogi in the world. The grandma that runs it always gives me some extra.”

“The perks of being a superhero, getting free food,” you say, thinking back to the café. The scent of grilled meat wafts out from a Korean barbeque joint, and as if on cue, your stomach growls. “You wanna get dinner at the SeoulHero café when we’re done? They’ve got the best chicken sandwich in the world.”

“Yeah. We can finally go on that date everyone thinks we were on.” He sighs. “You know, my mom called me that night and asked me if it was true. ‘If it can’t be IU, then Heart is just as good.’”

The comparison makes you wince, but you make a noise of acknowledgement.

A small scuffle in an alleyway catches your eye, but Flashfire beats you to the scene first, illuminating the dim corridor with a flickering flame in the palm of his hand. The harsh light reveals two waitstaff wrestling a giant trash bag into an already full dumpster. They nearly drop the bag in an effort to say a greeting.

“Keep up the good work, gentlemen,” Flashfire says before extinguishing his fire. When he steps back onto the main sidewalk, he furtively glances back. “Are you a little disappointed that it wasn’t a fight?”

“How very on-brand of you to say that,” you tell him even though you wished it was as well. You want to feel useful, like being a superhero nowadays isn’t all just appearances and fake dating.

“Well, it wouldn’t have been on-brand if you said it.”

You laugh, and for a few glorious seconds, you feel a little lighter. Meanwhile, Flashfire looks pleased with himself that he elicited something other than exasperation from you. The moment of unfiltered happiness, however, disappears when a black car pulls up to the curb and rolls down its tinted windows.

Sitting in the passenger seat is your current bane of existence. “Get in the car, Heart. A rep from Chiffon just called and said they’re interested in you being on next month’s cover. Their editor-in-chief is at the party, so you need to go back now.”

There are too many people around for you to spit a retort back. Flashfire looms underneath the street sign, waiting for you to take the lead.

“I’m not done with patrol yet,” is all you can get out.

“Flashfire can handle it.” When she sees that you’re standing steadfast, she adds in a whisper, “Look, once I get promoted, you won’t have to deal with me anymore, so just go back to the party and talk with her for a while. Then you can do whatever you want. Call off the relationship, drop that soju sponsorship, whatever. I’ll even let you change your hero costume to whatever you want. I know you hate it.”

In an equally low tone, you reply, “And no more threatening me with probation either. Or putting me on probation, for that matter.”

She rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

“We’re adjusting my contract to reflect that.”

“Fine. Now get in before she decides you’re not worth her time.”

You step backwards, aligning yourself with Flashfire, who looks amused at this turn of events. “I’m finishing patrol first. I’ll be at the party later.”

“You can handle it,” Flashfire cheekily says to Jihyo before starting down the block. “Let’s get a move on it, SweetHeart. The world needs some saving.”

You run after him, hiding the triumphant grin you have on.

You’re not a liar, so you returned to the party and chatted with Chiffon’s editor-in-chief, a woman dripping with jewels who did not seem too perturbed that you arrived in your costume instead of formal outfit. Now you’re splayed across your living room couch, dressed to the zeros in sweats. The TV plays reruns of a bad drama. You watch with glassy eyes as the CEO’s superpowered wife intentionally freezes his phone.

The editor-in-chief was kind. She also asked enough questions to warrant you feeling like you were being interrogated. How Flashfire answered everything with an air of nonchalance, you have no clue. All you can hope for now is that she likes you enough to have you on the cover of her magazine. Then Jihyo can leave you alone forever.

The loud chime of your doorbell snaps you back into reality. You pad across the foyer and open the door, revealing a smiling Flashfire holding a bag from the café. He offered to pick up dinner after noticing how sullen you were on the elevator ride down, and you readily accepted.

“I didn’t know you could look like death with your powers,” he teases. He shuts the door behind him and follows you to the dining area.

You’re far too interested about what he brought back to say something snarky back. You peer into the bag and retrieve your favorite item, sighing with pleasure when you realize that he got your order correct. “How’d you know about the pickles and sauce?”

“I asked the head chef to give me two orders of whatever you like. You know they have a framed photo of you in the kitchen?” He takes a bite out of his sandwich. “Mm, this is good. It’s got just enough spice.”

The aforementioned framed photo was a joke to celebrate your status as the café’s most beloved customer. You signed the back of it, calling it an investment for the chef.

“You want to go out on the balcony?” you ask. “It tastes better when you’re cold.”

When he nods, you slide open the glass and step out onto the polished wooden slats. As expected, they’re freezing, and you hold your warm sandwich even tighter. If you squint a bit, the traffic lights and lit-up windows are excellent replacements for stars.

A flash of orange catches your eye, and you look at Flashfire with confusion when he holds a large flame. It burns white for a moment and disappears. However, he seems pleased by what he has produced.

“What was that for?” you ask.

Humming to himself, he further peels back the sandwich wrapper. “Promise you won’t tell?”

“What’s to tell?” you first say and then add, “I won’t, I promise. Is it that secretive though?”

“It is when it deals with my powers. I use my own body heat to create fire, so my body temperature drops after. I have to be careful or else I’ll die, but you know, normal superhero things. And you said it tastes better when it’s cold, so I thought it would be best to make myself colder.” He pauses for a beat. “So what���s your drawback? If you even have one, that is.”

While you stay quiet, wondering if you should reveal it, Flashfire continues eating his dinner, the crunch of the chicken and lettuce intermingling with the sounds of traffic.

“Rapid regeneration hurts,” you finally say. “Even more so than getting injured. From least to most pain, it goes skin, muscle, bones, organs.”

His face is panicked as he remembers how he burned your wrist. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine, I’ve been through worse. If we’re apologizing, I’m sorry about dragging you into my mess with Jihyo and being very not-Heart. PR stuff usually doesn’t get me this upset, but… yeah.” You fill your mouth with food before you can continue rambling.

“Your entire hero persona is about PR. I’d be pissed if my hero name had to fit the company slogan,” he muses. “I mean, I picked mine when I was sixteen, and it’s kind of dumb, but it’s mine at least.”

You hesitate at first, but soon, your hand moves of its own accord toward him. You raise your pinky finger up. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

He hooks his pinky with yours and presses his thumb against yours. “I’m very trustworthy. What’s this about though?”

Jihyo’s words to you from two years ago ring in your head, her voice as clear as day when she warns you not to tell the truth. It’s going to damage your reputation, she said, so keep your mouth shut. I’ll take care of everything else.

“I was allowed to pick my name,” you slowly begin. “Jihyo had been assigned to me when I first got accepted and told me I had to choose my hero name before the end of the internship period. I worked under Miss A during my internship, and because I was the rookie, I got all the undesirable jobs. One night, she sent me to the red light district in Miari to patrol, and there was a girl getting beat by a man in an alley. She was bleeding from her head and holding up her arms in defense. I stepped in to stop him, and he turned on me to ‘teach me a lesson for being nosy.’

“I told the girl to run, and she did. He didn’t chase after her. After a few punches, he saw that I wasn’t dying, so he summoned knives from his body. Turns out he had superpowers too. He started slashing and stabbing at me, and I couldn’t fight back that much since I was in so much pain. He started panicking when he realized that it wasn’t enough, and I’ll spare you the details. He cut out my heart. Then he ran off.

“I passed out.

“Miss A found me an hour later when I didn’t come back to company headquarters in time. I was healed, but I was still on the floor, unconscious. Apparently, she saw my old heart from the street and decided to check out the alley. I told Jihyo when I woke up that I wanted my name to be Heart. You should have seen her face. I think she started working on all those nicknames that morning. She told me she would take care of the rest, and when I debuted, I found out that she made up a fake story for my name.

“SeoulHero cleaned up the mess, and I found out later that Miss A got fired for endangering a rookie and because she wasn’t supposed to send me to red light districts. Their reasoning was that I was too young, but it was probably because they couldn’t have the next IU be associated with brothels. I’m technically not even supposed to be telling you all this.” You take a large bite, unsure of what to say next. Even with the sounds of the city, it’s unsettlingly quiet.

Flashfire offers you a wry smile. “If it makes Jihyo mad, it’s worth it, right? Heart, that’s hardcore. What happened to the guy?”

“Miss A handled him. It was her last mission before she got fired.” Your sandwich is gone, so you crumple up the wrapper into a tight little ball. Flashfire incinerates his and cups the dust between his hands before the wind can send it across the sky. Environmentally conscious. SeoulHero would love him. “Thanks for going along with everything tonight and before that too. You’re a surprisingly chill person for someone who uses fire.”

He punctuates your comment by unleashing a small, thin flame. It dances on his fingertip like a will o’ wisp, and he blows it out with a puff.

It makes you laugh, and you quickly add, “And for the record, I think Flashfire’s a pretty cool name, not dumb at all.”

He leans against the railing, his public persona melting away when he smiles a wide, gummy smile at you. “You really think so? Hey, did you know that we’re the same age? You can call me Jeongin. Can I call you by your name instead of Heart?”

How brazen, and how very Flashfire-like of him to ask. “Yeah, why not?” You introduce yourself to him as your true self, and a shy blush creeps up your cheeks. It’s been so long since you’ve been anyone but Heart.

“We’ll stay in touch, right? If you ever need to go scorched earth”—he makes a flame burst and pop in his hand—“I’m your hero.”

“I think I’m good, but thanks, Jeongin.”

His powers don’t hold a candle to the way he beams. It’s only when he leaves, saying good night with your name attached, do you realize that he’s one of the few heroes that knows your real name. It’s silly, but it makes you feel a lot better about your job, like you’re less alone in the red tape of the superhero business. You don’t think any other hero has seen you lose it like he did.

You go to bed that night with a lighter conscience and are ready to face whatever nonsense SeoulHero has drummed up for you the following day. When you finally power your phone on, bracing yourself for the early morning emails and hopefully a goodbye message from Jihyo, a horrifying news alert pops onto your feed.

SEOULHERO CONFIRMS THAT SUPERHEROES HEART AND FLASHFIRE ARE DATING.

Blood thrumming in your ears, you flick away the notification only for it to be replaced by a text from Jihyo, asking if you enjoyed her parting gift. You don’t reply. Instead, you dial Nayeon’s number, pace around your room, and plot the demise of your career. SeoulHero might not want you afterwards, but maybe another company will.

“Heart?” comes Nayeon’s sleepy voice. “Everything okay?”

“I need Flashfire’s number now, and every single news reporter you can get your hands on.”

“Why?”

“I have something important to announce.”

In case any of you wanted to see all the fake tweets I made for the banner:

[thefairyletters]

NaruSaku Fanfics

I wouldn't say much – I love NaruSaku and I hate to see great works shadowed behind the piles of popular NS stories that I never have liked as much except for a few, which also I'll drop below in the list.

I'll update this list whenever I come across a story that I particularly enjoy or finds worth spreading word across. So be sure to like and reblog this post so you can revisit it to add new story in your reading pile later.

Also, genres vary and are not mentioned, but does it make any difference as long as the story is good?

Warning: super long post featuring beautiful, beautiful stories that you wouldn't regret reading. I swear. I'm positive. Contains SNS and other side pairings.

Without further ado;

How I fell in love with my best friend: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete

How the little blond boy Sakura had always known had changed, changing as well her feelings. The unfolding of their life, while Naruto worked to become the best Hokage and she faced her own emotions. Growing Love.

(I have nothing but upmost reverence for this story. This author writes one of the nest NS and I have loved all. NS is beautiful and Sakura is badass. Everything we already know is here and more.)

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Dangerous infiltration mission: Krapo || ff.net || M || complete

Naruto and Sakura are send by the Hokage for a difficult infiltration mission. They will have to face more than just the danger itself as they will have to keep their cover to be fake husband and wife credible. how it will impact the relationship between the two ninja. Growing Love. Misunderstanding.

(If you loved the aforementioned story, you'll love this one too. Mutual pining.)

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All over again: Krapo || ff.net || M || post-war || complete

Sasuke come back, Team seven is reunited. But Sakura has lost Naruto. How will she make him fall in love with her again? What other difficulties lies ahead of them?

(Naruto loses memory. SasuSaku angst but not in romantic sense and I loved it all. Misunderstanding and more mutual pining. And I'm in love with this story too.)

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Hit the floor running: Sakurablossom009 || A03 || M (but unnecessary) || Modern Hitman/Robbers AU || complete

Life was going great, Sakura thought. She was penniless, stranded in Europe without a way home, her fiancee had just dumped her for another woman AND her new companion was quite possibly a thief. How could things get any worse? Wait...was that guy pointing a gun at her?

(Now, personally, I don't prefer modern AU, but this story really had interesting characterisation and more character depth. NaruSaku is pretty spot on. It also features SasuHina and bamf!Hinata)

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The greatest pretenders: snowyseas || ff.net || M || Borutoverse || ongoing

Fifteen years is a long time to not talk to someone you consider your best friend, and is made even more difficult when they (and you) are married. The things Sakura should have confronted Naruto about never came to fruition, but as an old saying goes, "the truth will always be revealed".

(Your typical I-made-a-wrong-choice-but-now-can-be-done story but unlike many other stories in this they don't admit their love for each chapter at the first chapter itself. In fact, it feels so canon and you can almost superimpose it upon the canon. Sakura is mentally strong and knows what's right. )

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He was the sun: SavageTrickster || ff.net || T || Canonverse || ongoing

He had come a long way - from a lonely orphan ostracized by everyone to a loved hero. He deserved all these. His Hokage dream to come true. All the ramen he could eat. - Her eyes fell on a certain Hyuuga seated close enough for accidental touches. Her heart sank a little at a harsh whisper of reminder - And a deserving girl...who could give him all her love.

(So far so good. It's ongoing, and is at chapter 3. Sakura leaves Konoha much like how Naruto did, to explore the world aka seeing my headcanon in writing.)

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Wilderness: Kanji no Sakka || M || canondivergent || ongoing

As the war screeches to a temporary halt, Naruto leaves the battlefield on a unique mission only he can complete. Sakura is ordered to go with him. In the days that follow their bond is changed forever.

(Although I hate any explicit stories that involve characters below age 17, I give this a pass because of the uniqueness of plot and characterisation. It has fine lemons that comes with a good plot.)

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How It Should Have Been: OfPaintAndOil || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot

It wasn't supposed to be this way. Sasuke was supposed to be the dark one, the unredeemable one. Naruto was the bright one, the good one. It wasn't supposed to be like this, with blood on his hands and glowing red eyes and a grin. Naruto was supposed to make everything better, and maybe he did, in the end, but Sakura had never expected the end to look quite like this.

(Featuring Yandere!Naruto. It leaves you wanting for more and is a fascinating read. It's dark themed so proceed with caution as your favorite character might or might not be dead.)

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The Best Dates are the Cheap Ones: Shivakashi || ff.net || T || post!Timeskip || Oneshot

The whole point was to get the best date; that meant the richest and classiest guy, right? Sakura realizes what she has taken for granted and Ino learns a lesson in value.

(Sakura learns her lesson and snatches her boy. InoNaru is worth noting. Not the best characterisation of Sakura but bear with her jealousy for that is the reason why NS fluff exists. Story itself is very light and entertaining.)

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mangoes and strawberries: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot

Sakura Haruno was elbow deep in Naruto Uzumaki's guts when he asked her to marry him. It was so not the right time. But she still said yes.

(This story just screams NS upon every single line. Diabetes warning. Too cute for this world. One of the best NS fluff I've read thus far. It kinda sticks to you forever!)

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18 minutes, 23 seconds: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || postwar || oneshot

in which Naruto asks Sakura about that time she literally reached into his chest and grabbed his heart with her bare hand.

(Heartwarming. We all know how Sakura held Naruto's heart on her palms and how we love that moment. This is memory of that moment reminisced by our cutie pies.)

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One Big Uzumaki Family: John Smith || ff.net || T || postwar || Complete

A set of drabbles revolving around Naruto, Sakura, and their children. It turns out that, when the war ends, these two get busy. Real busy.

(IF YOU DON'T READ THIS MASTERPIECE HOW DARE YOU CALL YOURSELF NS FAN?!!! READ!!! This story should be on the top of your reading list.

UNDERRATED AF!

R e a d t h i s s t o r y and cry with me for this should have been canon. 100%)

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My Life Would Suck Without You: peanutbutter126 || ff.net || T || oneshot collection

Sometimes it's the smallest things that matter the most.

(Read this and then One big Uzumaki family. You'll feel super satisfied. I promise.)

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Colors and Carousels: Folle Sakura || ff.net || T || oneshot

She couldn't count the number of times she'd been mistaken for Naruto's girlfriend. Not that she minded. But Naruto acted like it was so… so… offensive.

(No words for this one. Just read and enjoy the confusion.)

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Let's Get Married: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete

It was supposed to be a simple solution to their immediate problems. But maybe they took more than they can chew?

(This is one of my few favorites that is also popular. Spot on characterization and beautiful relationship growth. This is one of the few stories that always stuck to me.)

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Chasing Smoke with Bare Hands: soulaire || ff.net || T || oneshot

"I could have loved her," Sasuke says flatly. "If she'd just given me the chance—" "Sakura gave you all the chances in the world," Kakashi cuts in, stern. "You underestimated her. And you underestimated her ability to walk away from you. At the core of it all, that's where things went wrong."

(This story is for those who loves both SS and NS but thinks Sakura deserves happier life than what she got in canon. Features NS and slight SS.)

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Touch: ohthelinsanity || ff.net || T || oneshot

Kakashi watches as his student grow to be more physically comfortable with one another. He finds it kinda ridiculous.

(Fluff. Feelings. Kakashi's fed up and might have diabetes from all the observation.)

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Moonlight shadows: luvtoshi || ff.net || T || oneshot

Sometimes, the moon brings out hidden feelings to the surface.

(Beautiful literature. NS feels. You can almost mistake it for canon with the way characters are written.)

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Seriously Serious: Damsel in Shining Armor || ff.net || T || modern AU || oneshot

He confessed to her when they first met. He confessed to her years after. He confessed to her almost everyday. Her response was almost always positive... So why the heck was he still single? "I love you." "Love you too. So is Sasuke-kun taken or not?"

(The only reason why I even picked this story is that it is a oneshot. I have very little interest in modern AU. But this one makes another exception. Pining. Love at first sight.)

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It was always you: luvtoshi || ff.net || M || postwar || complete

The war is long over. They have both grown. Now it's time to conclude their story. Naruto and Sakura.

(You know what, all stories from this author are just, Chef's kiss. )

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A Safe Pair of Hands: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || oneshot

Sakura heeds a stern warning to make it clear how she feels about Naruto.

(Feels. You'll love this if you like first person pov. This story told from Sakura's pov.)

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Other Dreams: tricksie || ff.net || M || oneshot

"Naruto, you shouldn't endanger yourself—" "Stop it," he snapped. Dropping his arm to hook under her seat, Naruto pulled her firmly onto his hip, locking her to him. Sakura gasped, suddenly aware of just how very close they were.

(Sexual tension. Romance. Leaves you wanting. Also, high on feels and lust on equal measure.)

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Heaven Unexpected: Folle || ff.net || M || oneshot

Because nothing can happen; it's Naruto. He always comes back. He's practically indestructible.

(Heavy on feels. There are chances that it might rain. Actually there are high chances. But oh well, it's beautiful and one of my favourites so here it goes.)

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Shade of the Leaf: Ravyn || ff.net || T || canon divergent || complete

Sasuke is back. Naruto has joined ANBU. Sakura is spending more time in the hospital than in the field. Team 7 struggles to redefine itself, because sometimes you don't know what you really want after all.

(Featuring Mature but still in-character!Naruto, Badass!Sakura, (Bit)Supportive!Sasuke along with Team 7 friendship. Mutual pining. Ending but with a lot loose ends.)

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Breaking Up Isn't that Hard to Do: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot

This is not an epic tale of action, suspense and true love. Yeah, I'm disappointed, too.

(This is pure comedy. With a dash of romance. And insanity.)

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Steamy Encounters: Narf-for-the-Garthoc || ff.net || T || oneshot

A flurry of coincidences and fateful machinations bring Naruto and Sakura together at the local baths. Can they rein in their animal passions? And do you really think that's the kind of story I write?

(Just r e a d. Please.)

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Garden of Sanctuary: Nes Mikel || ff.net || T || Canon divergent || oneshot

An alternate ending to Naruto. The Heavens describe the Garden a peaceful paradise. The Hells describe the Garden a baneful prison. In here... which is it?

(This is part of a series which you can follow from the author's profile. This is the second part, but can be read exclusively. As far as the AU goes, this story and settings is brilliant and heartbreaking. This is told from Naruto's pov. To look at things from Sakura's, read the first part. It is multi-chaptered.)

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Complications: Geno Calamari || ff.net || T || canon divergent || oneshot

While capturing the Kyuubi, Uchiha Itachi finds true adversaries in the form of Haruno Sakura and Uzumaki Naruto.

(Wanna see NaruSaku teamwork? This is it! You wouldn't find it anywhere better. Strong!Naruto, Strong!Sakura versus Itachi Uchiha)

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Life is a waving feather: jusrecht || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot

Everyone thought they were inevitable.

(There's beauty in subtlety and this is that. Also, mentions of character death.)

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Home: kirabook || AO3 || T || AU || complete

Shinachiku finds himself in a strange place with little to no explanation. Everyone he knows is there, but why are they acting so strangely? Why do they seem so different? And where is his home? 

(Cute and heartwrenching at the same time. Cameo Stalker. Read this for NS family feels pre-marriage.)

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Things we never say: thekatthatbarks || AO3 || T || oneshot

She wished she knew how to hold things lightly. There were some things she was terrified of breaking. Whether it be from an honest misstep or simply because she could.

(Reminds you why we love NS so much.)

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Open seasons: sazzafraz || AO3 || T || SNS || postwar || oneshot

The way Sasuke comes home is less myth and more devastatingly embarrassing happenstance.

(Featuring badass!Sakura, obedient!Naruto and normal!Sasuke, as well as Sakura's commentary on her life)

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Five things Sakura will never tell Naruto: sowell || AO3 || T || AU || oneshot

Kunoichi know how to keep their secrets.

(NS relationship analysis story.)

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Artistic purposes: StormyInk || AO3 || M || AU || Oneshot

Sai finds his favorite drawing subjects a bit lacking of late, and he sets a plan into motion to draw his team mates together. Simply for the sake of his art, of course.

(Aka Sai is fed up from seeing his teammates dancing around each other and decides to help them get laid–the story. You gotta admit Sai is the best wingman.)

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I collect my tears (so I can drown you in them): amako || AO3 || T || AU || complete

The hardest thing is letting go. Or Sakura sees Naruto falling in love with Shikamaru a little more every day, and she does the only thing she can think of. Then it's only a matter of learning how to stop loving Naruto.

(Sakura and Angst that has nothing to do with Sasuke. Featuring Sakura-sensei. And Shikamaru. It's a great story if you know when to let go of canon)

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Stranger than the wild: kiddattwell || AO3 || M || SNS || postwar || Ongoing

The war is over and Sasuke is home for good, but Sakura can't choose between the boys she loves. Sasuke still has his demons and Naruto still fights them and Sakura still follows them both, but this time down a path that none of them expected.

(This is canon. It is the best SNS story I've ever read. Story told in SNS POV in rotation. Slow burn, pining and relationship complication. YOU GOTTA READ THIS, I INSIST!!!! Also features SaiIno and InoShika.)

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Bringing Back Sasuke: Blue Jeans || ff.net || T || post war || oneshot

Naruto brings Sasuke back to Sakura. Many, many times over. Sasuke does not appreciate; not the blood and definitely not the angst.

(I've read this story multiple times and it gets funnier and makes your heart hurt and swell simultaneously each time. NaruSaku wouldn't be blissfully happy together without Sasuke thrown somewhere in the mix, that's exactly why I love SNS. This story perfectly represents the dynamic of team 7.)

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Yurei: Kanji no Sakka || ff.net || T || AU || oneshot

The past should stay dead and buried, but it won't if Naruto can't let go.

(Not exactly my favourite story, but I liked the concept. We all know how stubborn Naruto is once decides on something. If he wants to become Hokage, he will become Hokage. If he believes in Sasuke, he will believe in him forever. If he loves Sakura, he will marry her – uh, or should have, very OCC of him that he didn't.)

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Tag NS fan you know so they don't miss any of this!

[okaystoptellingmetomakeanaccount]

That would be nice, but from multiple interviews with comic authors, it seems that won’t be the case for our ducks ‘n mice. Many of them have addressed (I specifically remember Guerrini and Artibani saying this) that Disney does not respect the comics medium, and quite literally sees it as inferior, and thus doesn’t give it the same ‘rights’ as animation. Disney thinks that comics are a dead medium that only appeals to really young children and the rare collector. I still do not understand how they can think that. Those higher ups should just stick their heads out of their MCU and look at the sales numbers of European comics for once.

Yeah yeah, comics and magazines and everything made of paper has been on a steady decline in sales for a while now, but all Disney comics are still selling well over the 100k units every week in tons of countries. But Disney just doesn’t want to look or something.

Which would have been fine. Just let us do our thing. But instead, they’re only placing restrictions. They only license their characters to the publishers, Disney has never done anything themselves. Why do they even still own the characters at this pointnwjsjs (don’t answer me that was a very rhetoric question purely spawned out of frustration

So yeah it’s very likely not gonna happen. We still have more than enough freedom to put Mickey Mouse in a horror scenario, place Gladstone Gander at the center of a melancholic drama where he questions the meaning of his life, or deadass show the potential heat death of the universe. Though it isn’t without some weird specific limitations.

Now I’m going unnecessarily into rant territory but… What the limitations are also really bugs me.

No smoking. Okay. I can see that.

No alcohol. A more recent one that i think is kind of justified.

No fishing. Stupid, but sure, it’s not like the worst thing to censor.

Then we get to eating meat. Like yeah the meat industry is awful but why does that mean that Donald can’t have a turkey on Christmas.

Realistic looking guns. Why? If the police and the robbers have guns then what’s so bad? What are they supposed to do? Donald is literally a secret agent. Can you imagine James Bond but he only points at people with his dangerous walnut shooter?

Gay people. I can’t grasp how this is even a little bit on the same level as the previous things. Does Disney consider two women looking lovingly at each other as as damaging for the poor children as seeing their idol smoke? They consider comics to only be for children, so they don’t allow gay people to show up in them. What does that say about Disney’s stance on homosexuality?

that was my other fair share of complaints about disney if you didnt mind lol

But uhh positive end message. Infinity dime coming up in the US might mean a change in Disney’s stance on comics. Maybe they’ll start to see Marvel less as an IP treasure chest and more like an actual publisher too!

Finally gonna read where it all started

[mediaevalmusereads]

Waiting for a Scot Like You. By Eva Leigh. Avon, 2021.

Rating: 3/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Union of the Rakes #3

Summary: Adjusting to life in peacetime isn’t easy for Major Duncan McCameron. Escorting a lady on her journey north seems like the perfect chance to give him some much-needed purpose. That is, until he learns the woman in question is the beautiful, bold, reckless Lady Farris. She makes his head spin and being alone together will surely end in disaster. Beatrice, the Dowager Countess of Farris, is finally free of a stifling marriage and she has no plans to shackle herself to any other man. Ready to live life to the fullest, she’s headed to a week-long bacchanal and the journey should be half the fun. Except she’s confined to a carriage with a young, rule-abiding, irritatingly handsome Scottish soldier who wouldn’t know a good time if it landed in his lap. But maybe a madcap escapade will loosen him up... Between carriage crashes, secret barn dances, robbers, and an inn with only one bed, their initial tension dissolves into a passion that neither expected. But is there a future for an adventure-loving lady and a duty-bound soldier, or will their differences tear them apart?

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: graphic sexual content, light BDSM, violence

Overview: I couldn’t wait to get my hands on the last installment of this series; I loved the first two so much, and I had high hopes for the third. But looking at my rating, you may wonder why only 3 stars, and the answer is simple: I am personally not a fan of “road trip” stories. There’s nothing inherently wrong with them - I just don’t find them engaging. So, for mostly personal preference reasons, this book doesn’t get the full 5 stars that the previous two in the series did.

Writing: Leigh’s prose is fairly well-crafted throughout the Union of Rakes series. It’s quick, it flows well, and it balances showing and telling to keep the reader engaged in what’s happening. If you’ve read my reviews for books 1 and 2, don’t have much to add to them. Leigh seems to have crafted some solid romance novels and I found this series as a whole to be well-put-together.

Plot: The non-romance plot of this book follows Duncan McCameron, a war veteran and second son of a Scottish earl, as he escorts Beatrice, Dowager Countess of Farris, from London to Northamptonshire so she may attend a “party.” As you might suspect, shenanigans happen along the way to push the two together.

That’s pretty much it. I don’t have anything much to say other than I personally am not a fan of these “road trip” plots. They’re easy to structure, and fairly fun to read, but I find them too random and without suspense. Scenes don’t have to connect or build on one another, and that’s kind of how I felt as I was reading. Duncan and Beatrice would happen upon some new challenge, they’d deal with it, and then they were on to the next one. If you’re looking for a light, fun read, this book might work for you, but I like a little more purpose in my plots.

Characters: Beatrice, our heroine, is a widowed Countess who is set on living her life the way she wants to after being trapped in a loveless marriage. Beatrice was never mistreated, per se, but her carefree, enthusiastic, curious spirit was dampened by marital, family, and societal obligations. As a result, she never intends to marry again and instead takes advantage of the freedoms offered to rich widows. I really liked that her arc involved exploring anything and everything that interested her, and I liked that she was so straight-forward about what she wanted. It was rather refreshing, and I liked that she never compromised her desires in order to pursue Duncan.

Duncan, our hero, is a war veteran whose adherence to rules and discipline is a metaphor for his outlook on the world. Duncan believes that rules give the world structure and prevents things from crumbling into chaos; thus, when he meets Beatrice (who cares not for rules), his whole worldview is called into question. I liked that Beatrice didn’t really serve as his “manic pixie dream girl” but caused Duncan to think about what he really valued in life. Duncan has moments when he questions whether what he wants is marriage or happiness, whether his “purpose” is to be useful or to help people, etc. It was kind of nice, and I liked seeing him loosen up over the course of the novel.

There weren’t a whole lot of side characters, but those that were present were just fine. There were two other members of the Union of Rakes that kept showing up at random intervals, and I found the randomness too coincidental, but overall, characters did what they were supposed to do.

Romance: I really liked that this romance was between an older woman and a younger man. Beatrice is a 46 year old widow with adult children, and Duncan is (I think) 34, so it’s not like we have a middle aged person taking advantage of a young twenty-something. Instead, we have two adults who get together because they are attracted to one another, and there wasn’t much ado about the age. Sure, Beatrice had some insecurities about whether or not Duncan would find her body attractive, but it’s clear that he does and he isn’t looking for some youthful maiden.

I also really liked that this romance brought out the best in Duncan while also not requiring Beatrice to compromise on her desires. Duncan struggles with what he believes he wants in the relationship (namely, marriage), yet a huge part of the couples’ arc involves giving oneself permission to pursue what will make them happy, regardless of societal rules and expectations.

The only thing that really bugged me is that this entire book takes place over the course of a week, and for some reason, I couldn’t really get past that. While the nature of the individual events made the timeline feel longer at certain points, at the end of the day, I kept coming back to the idea that the two fell in love in a week, and for some reason, that bothered me (maybe because I’m already predisposed to dislike road trip plots - so I may be biased).

TL;DR: Waiting for a Scot Like You is refreshing in that it’s a romance between an older woman and younger man, and the ending is unconventional yet emotionally satisfying. However, I personally couldn’t rate it higher because I’m not a huge fan of “road trip” plots - though others may find this books perfectly enjoyable.

[magnumdays]

Magnum PI 3.06 - The Day Danger Walked In

Where do I even begin with this episode?

Once more this was just an overall enjoyable episode with all my favorite bits! Miggy, fun side plot for the guys, (though I missed the Ferrari and beautiful Hawaii aerial shots…)and once more a totally coincidental very dangerous situation because of mostly bad luck.

I think I’m going to start with the last one.

This episode features the second full episode of hostage-by situations we’ve gotten this season. What else have we had this season - 5 episodes in? Well, let’s see the two robbery/hostage episodes, Higgy being shot. A plane crash. Now Ethan getting shot. (Plus the weird stalker in the white SUV.) 3.04 was the only really case-like ‘normal’ episode we’ve had!

Everything is a bit higher stakes this season (we also got the Juliet/Ethan thing, suddenly giving us some emotional “danger”, making us wonder how this will impact Magnum and Higgins’ relationship.) Danger is around every coroner. So ride out a hurricane in peace? Nope, forget it!

And while I very much enjoy the higher stakes, it starts becoming a little unbelievable (what? A TV show being unbelievable?). But it’s more the coincidences of how things go from ‘bad’ to ‘OMG’ that sometimes get to me. How is it they can’t even go for a green card interview in peace? 10 minutes earlier of an appointment time, that episode would not have existed. Like being trapped in a storm isn’t enough, we gotta add armored car robbers! The probability of them picking La Marianna is just so small it annoys me a bit.

I do enjoy it more when Magnum and Higgins are on a case and that leads them into danger. Being shot or crashing a plane because you went out and looked for trouble makes sense (even if it’s very unbelievable too I know…) Danger just happening… it’s a little bit of lazy writing in my opinion. I mean wasn’t it enough that the storm warning came just as Ethan had arrived but not before they had time to leave on their date? That alone is a fairly big coincidence... 

I mean I still really enjoyed this episode. It wasn’t all hostage but a lot of stuff around it, and it was more of a backdrop. Something to cause problems that had to be solved by various people working together and thus showing off their dynamic and letting them interact (such as Ethan and Magnum with the gas + talk about Higgy, Magnum/Higgy/Ethan when he was shot, Kumu/ Shammy and even Ethan/Higgy a little.)

All the relationship stuff is really what this episode is all about. We got TC and Rick moments (with Thomas being a little bit of confidant) about trust and being partners, Ethan/Higgy/Magnum - how does Ethan fit in stuff, separate from that some Miggy feels and Juliet asking/hoping Thomas and Ethan if they can be friends because she thinks her and Ethan might get serious and just all around through-out the episode Juliet being quite worried about what Thomas thinks of her boyfriend. 

Yet while we got a lot of stuff going on (some quite coincidental), still it felt like just the right amount of everything. A bit of Ethan, some jealous Magnum, not too much case, just enough fun and games and crazy to make it never boring and some good heart to heart feel-y moments to give some pay off towards the end. It’s like they finally found their groove this season and almost every episode just feels like it’s really working on all levels!

My fave moments

I had some favorite moments; Gordon going “She really wanted that power saw” about Juliet when they were putting up boards at the beginning. She really did and it was so fun. I love when Higgy doesn't get what she wants and is a bit salt-y with someone other than Thomas...

Magnum being all “It’s like me dating a client!” Um hello excuse me but did you not ask out Mitten’s the cat’s owner? (Well her mom, if we’re being technical?) Sure it’s totally about Ethan having been Higgy’s doctor…

Juliet being all “Thomas likes you fine” but then becoming suddenly super observant of how he acts and then realizing he’s not fine with it? Going so far as to actually start on a “Ethan seems to think-” before Magnum interrupts with dead security guard photos.

Magnum actually admitting he’s not sure how to share Higgy with Ethan...

Rick being tormented by the fact that he lied to TC.

Juliet drying off Ethan and handing Magnum a towel and the way he smiles and then looks so forlorn! It’s just so...I don’t know but it gives me feels and I need gifs.

The last two minutes are my favorite. From Higgy showing up, Rick sending her over to paint with Magnum, her being all ‘looks fine’ ‘liar’, her thanking him for being nice but admitting “it was really stupid” about Ethan rushing in and getting shot. That was just amazing. 

That whole end bit was just so pure and sweet and my poor baby face when she’s all “it’s pretty serious, I want you guys to be friends”. Someone hug him.

(Also who taught you how to paint? You’re just painting in the same spot over and over again!! I know it’s about them having a moment but I’m low-key annoyed on Rick’s behalf on them both sucking at it!)

Speaking of annoyed… (Ethan rant-ish bits up) 

I’m not sure how I feel about Ethan being shot and all of them being locked in a freezer (I know would have preferred a Magnum/Higgy locked in a freezer and it’s very cold story-line...but you know, we take what we can get). Him being shot felt very random and I think we almost could have just done without it? Like he could have been smacked with a gun and had a head wound. I mean I guess the only reason for him getting shot in the leg is to make sure Juliet doesn't end up going ice skating with him… (Or to make sure we don’t have to see him while he’s getting his leg back in working order... )

What was that anyways?

Ethan plans on taking Higgy ice skating and we learn that Juliet has apparently never been from Magnum. A) Why do I love that Magnum just know this, like they talked about it? B) What respectable English person has never been ice skating? C) If Ethan knew she’d never been, why would he suggest it? Unless she asked to go. I mean I get maybe he was hoping for a cute ‘trust me, I won’t let you fall’ sort of situation, but he’s been on a number of dates with Higgy by now. He must know how she hates being well... not the best at something (everything...) Going skating was not really a good plan.

Also who the heck goes ice skating in HAWAII!!! I mean come on Ethan! You’re a doctor, you’re supposed to be smart. Why not have a romantic beach picnic, much better chances of something fun going down… I’m just saying. 

Anyways, I honestly don’t know what to feel about Ethan. I like that he seems nice and not threatened by Magnum (well, for now, spend another few hours with them, you might not be so chill…) and sees that working with him is important to Juliet. Frankly I just hope things get serious with them, but in the end Juliet realizes he’s not for her and just breaks up with him because she wants to. Not because he’s a bad guy working for evil SUV guy or because does something awful. Just because while she likes him, she doesn't feel like he’s the one. Since this season seems to be drama-drama I think something dramatic is bound to happen… but I guess we’ll see!

In Conclusion

I loved it, but was a bit annoyed at some parts. I feel like everything is just flowing so well this season and I can’t wait to see how the big bad turns out and the Ethan thing and La Marianna and just all around I’m more invested in everything.

Next week’s episode looks very exciting! I’m excited for some dramatic (yet we took this case so it’s not that unrealistic) stuff going down. Kidnappings and Miggy freaking out when ‘tragedy occurs’ (and maybe having some moments). I must say as much as I enjoyed this end scene last week’s Miggy end moment (3.04( beats this one’s by just a tiny amount... 

[pixie88]

Revelations

Chapter 8 - Together - Adam & Ellie.

A/N: So I had no intentions on writing the next chapter so quickly but this little aussie rainbow lorikeet <(Hoping google out this right you only see these bird in Australia) messaged me with a song she thought would be great for A&E I love it. Check it out! I’d also like to thank her for being a spring board and letting me bounce ideas off her and giving me ideas! She also taught me a new Word Sassenach. So thank you @aussieez​ you are a star! This chapter reveals hidden secrets no one, not even I was expecting! I’m hoping google translation is correct with the Scots Gaelic. This chapter is a bit dark but also has some laughs let’s face it atm we all need to laugh. I hope you like it!

If you like it let me know or if you don’t still tell me why I won’t be offended!

I am only tagging those who have asked to be tagged in this new series from now on as I don't want to annoying people with tags. So Let me know if you would like to be tagged and if I missed anyone sorry just let me know!  

Find previous chapters HERE under Together - Adam & Ellie.

Song: Natalia Kills - Problem

Word count: 2086

WARNINGS: ⚠️ Fluffy fluff, Mild NSFW, Angst & adult language.

Pairings: Adam x Ellie.

Enjoy 😘

"Tom, what did you mean you had something to tell me?"

"El's, I'll tell you later this is your party! I don't want to steal your limelight!" he gives me a smug look and taps his nose.

"Tell me!" I protest.

"Fine, but keep it to yourself. Like I said, this is your day"

He holds out his left hand I look down and scream "OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!" the whole room turns to look at me.

"El's!!"

I pull him on for a hug "I'm so happy for you guys! I need details!"

He laughs, "Why don't you and Adam come back to the flat after this and I'll fill you in!"

"OK, also congratulations!" I'm beaming for him.

~*~*~*~

Later, at the flat "Congratulations to the both!" Adam reaches his glass.

"So, who purposed to whom? Justin, please tell me it was Tom!" I laugh.

"No, actually it was me. You know what he's like with all that gushy stuff Ellie"

"Oi! I can be romantic when I want to be!" Me and Justin laugh.

"So, how did you ask him?"

"Well, It was nowhere near like what you did for Ellie, but I took him to the restaurant where we had our first date, then got down on one knee" I start to get a bit emotional Adams arms come around me.

"Stupid hormones!" I brush away my tears.

Adam and Justin are talking about football, I leave them to it and grab a glass of water. "So, do you think you'd want to be my best woman?" Tom ask.

The biggest smile appears on my face "I'd be offended if you asked anyone else!"

He laughs, "El's there's something else I need to tell you," He looks worried.

"What's wrong?"

"That spat me and Justin had, it was...it was over something I done, something that happened 2 years ago now"

"What is it?"

"Justin thinks you have a right to know, to be honest with you and I think he's right. Jake, I...."

I cut him off, "Tom..."

"Just let me finish! After your Mum and I found out about your drinking I did something stupid in fact, more than stupid I..."

"Tom, I know exactly what you did"

He looks confused "El's?"

"Can we go for a walk?" I ask not wanting Justin to hear.

"Yeah," he takes the last of the milk out the fridge and pours it down the drain.

"Justin, El's wants a tea, but we are out of milk we're just going to pop to the shop"

"Oh, OK" he calls over his shoulder.

We make our way out the flat, it's dark now the street is quiet "El's, how did you know?"

I take a deep breath as we are walking "I got a call from the hospital saying Jake had been attacked, and he was in a bad way. The idiot still had me under his emergency contact but even after everything that happened, a part of me needed to know he was OK, so I went to see him. When I got there he had just come round, so they let me in, he told me what happened and how it was you that put him there. He was gloating telling me how he was going to tell the police you attacked him and how you would go to prison..."

"But he didn't?" he looks even more confused now.

"No, he didn't...."

"But why?!" his tone is demanding.

"Me and you have this sibling kinda bond right. If one of us gets knocked down the other starts throwing punches..."

"El's, what did you do?"

"So, do you remember that armed robber at that jewelers in the city centre nearly 3 years ago?"

"Yeah, of course it was all over the news. They still haven't caught the guys that done it"

"For my birthday that year Jake had got me this bracelet. A couple of months later I was at the hospital with Dad just reading the paper to him. They had printed pictures of everything that was stolen. As soon as I saw it, I felt sick there in this newspaper was a picture of this bracelet he had got me for my birthday. I never confronted him about it because of Dad, I need to focus all my energy on him. So, at the hospital that day when he told me he was going to tell the police who attacked him, I told him if you were to go down for this, I would make sure he went down for a lot longer for armed robbery as I knew exactly where the bracelet had come from and I still had it"

"El's, Fuck! You know if you are ever caught with it you would go down to right"

"That's the thing I don't have it, not anymore. I told Mum everything she got rid of it!"

"How?!"

"You know those new luxury apartments in the city centre 2 streets away from Mums club?"

"Yeah?"

"Let's just say the foundations of that building are worth a lot of money" 

"Does Adam know?"

"He does. I told him last year when he asks for us to move in together"

"El's, he could lose everything if it ever gets out!"

"I said that to him that before I told him about it. He didn't care he just didn't want secrets between us but he's convinced it won't come out. Well, at least not in our lifetime"

"El's why didn't you tell me?"

I laugh, "The same reason you didn't tell me. I was protecting you, the less people that knew the better”

"I guess we're both as bad as each other"

"I guess! Come on we better get this milk! Are you going to tell Justin?"

"To be honest with you I don't know, El's"

~*~*~*~

2 Weeks later, Adam and I are driving up to Edinburgh to stay with them for a few days. Natalia Kills - Problem is playing on the radio "What do think of the new car?"

I huff and roll my eyes, "It's nice I suppose, but it's not Bella!"

He takes my hand in his, "It's red like Bella, but more child friendly"

"I guess!" I say with a huff.

"Why don't we name it?"

I laugh, "What?"

"Why don't we give her a name? Maybe your fall in love with her if we name her!" he kisses my hand.

"I'm trying to keep to my eyes on the road"

"I'm sure your Mum will look after Bella. Plus, don't you like being up high?"

"OK, I like it! The gadgets make it worth giving up Bella"

I can see him smirking at the corner of my eye, "So, what are we calling her?"

"Rose?...God, Adam, I need a wee!"

"Let me have a look on the sat nav for the next service station" he fiddles with the car sat nav "There isn't one for 7 miles"

"Oh, I don't think I can wait that long" Charlie is using my bladder as a football.

"Pull over on the hard shoulder," I look at him to see if he's joking.

"You want me to wee on the side of the motorway?"

"Ellie, it will be fine. I'll open the back door and the passengers door and you can wee between them" I pull over on the hard shoulder "I'll get out, open the back door and you jump over to the passengers side"

I crawl over "I just realize we have nothing to wipe with"

Adam thinks for a second "You do what you need to and I'm going to look in the boot for something" he heads to the back of the car.

I squat down a little and pull down my jeans and underwear "Have you gone yet?"

"Nope! What if a lorry drives pass and sees me?!"

I hear him chuckle "I'm sure they're aren't looking. Ellie, I got a couple of pairs of new socks here. You can use a pair then I'll chuck them"

"You want me to used socks to wipe? Good job I don't need a poo! You might lose a t-shirt!" I laugh.

I hear him howl with laughter "They're new ones"

"OK pass me them" He wanders over and hands me the socks.

He takes over from driving and it's not long before we pull up to Nina and Al's drive. Nina runs over to the car as we get out "Ellie!!!" She wraps me up tight.

"Hi, Nina! I....I can't breath" I wave to Al who's coming down the path.

"Hi Mum! Your son is right here!" Adam says sarcastically.

"Hi Adam, You and Dad get the bags while I'll make Ellie a tea" as we walk inside I look over my shoulder to Adam and stick my tongue out at him he smirks and shook his head.

~*~*~*~

They have booked a table at a pub 20 minutes drive away. We are less than a few minutes away "So, new car? Do you like it?" Al asks.

"Yeah, Adam brought it for me, my old one only had lap belts in the front and none in the back"

"I like the screen you can see behind you when you reserve! Al can we get one?"

He runs his hands down his face "We just got a new car Nina!"

She huffs "A year ago!"

I laugh, "Looks like we are here!" (Saved by the bell there, Al!)

Adam and I head to the bar for drinks  "Adam, how do you say can I have a 2 pints of Peroni and 2 orange juices please in Scots Gaelic?"

"So repeat after me A bheil thu nad fhìor Albannach fon fhèileadh sin?"

"A bheil thu nad fhìor Albannach fon fhèileadh sin?"

The barman comes over to us "A bheil thu nad fhìor Albannach fon fhèileadh sin?" he smiles then goes to lift his kilt.

"Whoa!!!! What are you doing?!" I screech.

Adam cracks and starts laughing "Adam, What did you make me say?"

"Ellie, you said are you a real scotsman under that kilt? Sorry she's sassenach" he apologies to the Barman.

I shove him, the barman laugh "Let me teach you a very English word! You are a twat!"

He pulls me towards him "I'm only messing beautiful! Can we get 2 pints of Peroni and 2 orange juices please" he asks.

"Do you forgive me!"

"No! And you can bring the drinks over by yourself!" I huff and head back to the table.

A couple of minutes later he comes over with a tray "And for my beautiful wife, I'm sorry!" He puts down 2 pint glasses full of ice on the table.

I break into a smile "Am I forgiven now?"

I roll my eyes at him "Fine, but you're still a twat!"

He lifts my chin and smirks before placing a soft kiss against my lips "But I'm your twat!"

"I'm going to get you back by the way!"

He chuckles "Bring it on, beautiful"

~*~*~*~

The next day I know exactly how to get my revenge. Adam wanders into the bedroom after a shower. I'm purposely standing in front of the mirror in some lacy underwear.

"Fuck!" I hear him mutter under his breath as his footsteps get closer. Soon he's behind me admiring my reflection, his chest is pressed against my back, I can feel his hard shaft against the curve of my arse.

"You look stunning! You amaze me! How you can make being pregnant look so sexy!" His hand comes round to cup my breast, as his lips begin to feather along my neck. His other hand trails over my bump and is just about to slip into my underwear.

I pull away and move to where our suitcases are "I better get dressed. I need to meet your mum downstairs in 5 minutes"

"What? I thought.."

I smirk "You also thought I was a good idea to prank me yesterday. Well, Adam revenge is a dish best served..." I look down at him hard member "Hard!" I wink as I'm getting dressed "And you have the whole day to think about me wearing this under my clothes. While your mum and I are heading out to get our nails done. Bye"

I make my way to to the door "Oh and Adam! You might want to do something about that! Maybe a cold shower!" I wink as I leave him in our room.

Continue reading this story here - Chapter 9.

@lem-20​ @aussieez​ @khoicesbyk​ @shewillreadyou​ @txemrn​ @irisofpurple​

[prairiedust]

The Further Folklore of Supernatural

Here’s a little more folklore meta in light of how season 15 has been playing out if anyone is game. I genuinely thought that Moriah would be the end of the folklore stuff and tossed out “Folk the Author” as an “epilogue,” so this is probably less of an addendum than it is a waymarker as I try to continue to parse these themes into the last seven episodes.

Welp. *waves hands at everything* THIS is not how anyone expected 2020 to go. Things got a little bit big and I stopped thinking about Spn in light of needing that energy elsewhere. But I also don’t want this crapfest to ruin how I fan my favorite show, so here I go again. I will attempt a TL;DR, too!

If you’ve read my old “folklore” analysis here about how I think fairy tales and all their baggage fit into Supernatural season 14, you know that I believe Castiel has stepped into a Sleeping Beauty type story, and that coincidentally a few themes and symbolism from Snow White kept popping up around Dean. (I hold Sam to be a Protagonist in the modern “literary fiction” sense of the word, but emotionally, thematically, and narratively he’s always been a little inaccessible to me. I finally understood him when the death-of-the-author plot surfaced, and I’ll get to Sam eventually here. And Jack, there’s a little Jack in here, too.) 

If you would rather have the TL;DR than read several thousands of words about how folklore and myth *might* be abstractly connected to an American genre show, all I can say is that I tried. The textual support is all in the folklore posts. This is as succinct a summary as I could fabricate. At least I’m not gonna talk about Sam and bricolage and freeplay! This is an almost completely theory-free post! If you don’t want to read or don’t need a refresher and just want to know how this has been working in 15, you can scroll down to “END OF TL;DR”.

So, to catch up, I’m not talking about the folklore and mythology that this show has always relied on for plot and MOTWs. I wasn’t drilling down into urban legends like Hook Man or world folk monsters like shtrigas or pishtacos. By “folklore” I mean the study of storytelling tropes and tale types that have been with us for ages. One of the many subtexts of the end of the series. I’ve been tracking this because I think it’s fun to see how fairy tale imagery and mythology might layer preconscious suggestions into the text of the show. I personally think it was loud enough to be seen easily, but more than likely viewers felt unsettled, felt cheered, or felt like they knew what was coming? I’m curious to know. Anyway.

When we found out that Kelly Kline was going to name her baby “Jack” waaaaay back in season 12, things started chiming. Jack and the Beanstalk. Jack the Giant Killer. Jack Tales. Jack is a powerful Western character, sort of a cross between a noble hero and a trickster, featuring in stories that often blur lines and boundaries. He is both the poor man’s youngest son and the equal to King Arthur’s heir. Jack is both everyman and extraordinary. Jack is so cool, I wish I had more time to parse that but his qualities are not subtle in the text/subtext, anyway.

But back to my half-crack reading of seasons 14 and 15. 

Once upon a time in Supernatural, there were two fairy tales being told. Both fairy tales are found all over the world and in many forms, but they all can be grouped together because they all contain shared elements of the same basic plot or shared themes, and these two in particular are sister stories. So when I mention “Sleeping Beauty,” I’m talking about lots of different versions of the folk tale, and the same for “Snow White,” which can be found in one form or another in storytelling traditions all over the place. It is both helpful and irritating that these are both Disney movies, too.

Jack makes an allusion to Sleeping Beauty in 14x03 The Scar while talking to Castiel-- it’s the kind of subtextual flash that in and of itself means little and proves nothing, but then beginning with The Scar we got three stories in a row that dealt with “sleepers” of some sort-- Lora in 14x03 doomed to die because of a witch’s spell, Stuart in 14x04 Mint Condition in a coma because of a ghost attack, and Sasha’s father in 14x05 Nightmare Logic under the spell of a clever djinn. It’s powerful subtext, like a soft light that bathes these episodes in the color of fairy tale and makes Jack’s Dramatic Swoon at the end of Optimism all the more Dramatic-- subtext amplifying the plot. Jack goes to Heaven, but is eventually cornered by the Shadow, who wants him in the Empty where he will sleep forever-- the Shadow being an entity who has claimed the husks of dead angels since their inception and thus implies a “curse” laid on Jack from the moment he came into being-- but Castiel, who is ever a thief in oh so many ways, makes a bargain with the Shadow and essentially takes over the consequences of Jack’s Sleeping Beauty story (hence my rarely used but hilarious tag “Castiel Thief of Endings.”)

Now that we know from 14x20 Moriah that the Shadow and Billie the Reaper are, if not allies, at least working together when Jack is awakened in the Empty, does that mean that Castiel’s deal is still on the table, or has that fate been thwarted? *pounds table* Was Jack’s death and Chuck’s rise as a “greater threat” in 14x20 enough to shift Castiel’s ending? It’s the kind of subtextual question that lends tension to the narrative and it’s what I am here for. 

Well, speaking of thwarted expectations, Dean’s arc was being shadowed by a Snow White tale type. We all know Snow White but why don’t I sum it up anyway, since Disney messed up the folktale ending lol. Snow White is cast out of her home by her jealous stepmother (and echoes of the stepmother’s magic mirror show up in 15x02 Gods and Monsters) who sends her huntsman to kill her; the dude can’t do it and turns the girl loose in the forest instead. Snow White joins a band of outsiders who live in the forest-- in the Disney movie and the Grimms’ tale they are dwarfs, in some versions she happens upon a band of robbers-- and they love her very much and we presume she’s safe for the rest of her life; Michael mysteriously turns Dean loose to join Sam’s gathering of hunters, however we know, like Stepmom, Michael is still out there. The stepmother finds out that Snow White is actually alive and contrives to kill her herself. Eventually succeeding, Snow White appears to die and is usually laid to rest in a crystal casket/glass coffin. Her stepmother’s machinations have _stolen her agency_ (further paralleling Dean’s possession by AU!Michael.) A Handsome Prince stumbles upon Snow White, is besmitten with her, and he asks her protectors if he can have her, as one does. Leaving the Disney adaptation aside, Snow White awakens when whatever item that has caused her death-like state is dislodged (piece of apple in her throat) or removed (magic corset) or withdrawn (poisoned hairpin) by her protectors. Snow White is a story about the community of the dwarves of band of robbers or adopted family caring deeply for her, and when Dean starts making his own crystal casket, the ma’lak box, in which he will ride out eternity in tormented symbiosis with Apocalypse Michael, he has to rely on his family to help him see the plan through. However, here’s where Jack-- who is as much a chaos engine as his surrogate father Castiel if not more so-- steps in and ruins the ending. Jack smites Michael. Dean Winchester is saved. Again. To put the final nail in the coffin, so to speak, Jack later destroys the ma’lek box entirely. 

That was quite the surprise ending… for one of the stories.

Was the end of season 14 the end of the Sleeping Beauty theme, also?

END OF TL;DR

I quit writing about “folklore” for a while, but that doesn’t mean it stopped being a theme. It just stopped being fun to write about as the story got more and more dark, and when it transmuted into two parallel themes of “folklore” or storytelling by the people versus Death of the Author--or storytelling by a lauded authority-- and there was so much angst about the boundaries of Chuck’s powers, I just wanted to sit back and enjoy that. I did distill my thoughts about Sam’s new arc in the DotA plot, which I thought would subsume the folktale themes but hey, we still have folktales around, too. I mean, we have Sam and we have Dean, and we have two “literary” subtexts, or maybe rather two subjects about the nature of story, something that I thought was a little bit of a surprise.

Storytelling was a Feature of 15x07 Last Call, both in the sense that Lee and Dean swap new stories and tell old tales of their adventures together as they catch up, but also in the sense that we got additional “text”-- hints of a backstory where John and Dean hunted with Lee in that swampy long-ago “Stanford era,” and again we get storytelling when _Lee recounts how he ended up keeping a marid in his basement_. There is also an allusion to the Thousand and One Arabian Nights in that episode that I yelled about in a meta that I never put on the interwebs, but the “marid” is in a specific tale in many editions of that collection, and thus calls in not only a different folktale tradition but the concept of a framed/nested narrative, which I believe will be important to understanding the last episodes of the series, but that’s an aside. In 15x08 Our Father Who Aren’t In Heaven, Castiel _tells Michael the story_ of how everyone ended up where they are now to convince him to help. And Michael and Adam’s allyship, if not friendship, was probably the best subversion of any “storytelling” expectation we’ve ever had on this show. Belphagor set us up for “room full of crazy” or something, but, no. We got symbiosis. 

That almost sums up how I’ve been viewing the last “era” of spn. This wasn’t in the master post, but I shouted a lot about underworlds before 15x09 Purgatory 2: Return to Purgatory, and then stopped shouting because I had to ferment for a while. Also, as has been mentioned, the world turned to crap. But talking to other meta writers during the ramp up to the resumption of the season helped me realize just why this reading of myth to folktales to literature feels so right.

Underworlds and Otherworlds…. Everybody has crossed into an “underworld” or three in Supernatural, it’s really nbd. It was actually surface-level plot in season 13. By the time 15x09 rolled around, our heroes are just, like, strolling in and out of “sealed off” Hell after doing a level one spell and chilling with Billie in the Empty and even that Purgatory trip didn’t have the same feeling of danger that, say, crossing into the AU did. But also, we’re at the point where subtext is leading us to a _satisfactory_ ending. Where before we had serial text, like a cumulative tale type-- “The House that Jack Built”-- which just kept adding more and more plot, we’re hurtling o’er the apex of Freytag’s pyramid now and things are getting loud.

But they’re also getting very shifty.

I wrote a little bit about Sam Winchester successfully reviving Eileen in 15x06 Golden Time and the “Orpheus and Eurydice” symbolism of him keeping his back to her. (I’m not linking it because it’s so, so rough.) But because Sam is not an underworld hero, not completely-- I see him as a modern Protagonist coming to terms in a psychoanalytical model with things like mortality, fallibility, and mastery-- maybe bildungsroman, even -- he was able to subvert the tragic ending of the tale of Orpheus and Eurydice because it is not “his” story. But if I were pressed to find a mythic or folk tale type to measure Sam against, I could. I would probably sideye “the sorcerer’s apprentice” trope (ATU 325-The Magician and his Pupil :D ) which began as a poem that entered European folklore on different fronts. (and weirdly, that story was also Disnified in Fantasia. That’s probably more my own limitation as a gen x american lol than anything coming from the writer’s room.)

Dean got his moment in Purgatory where he was able to finally come to grips with his anger and heal the rift between himself and Castiel because Purgatory is a different kind of underworld. Dean is a successful threshold-crosser, having crossed that boundary out of Purgatory before, but in 15x09, his prayer to Castiel is all a subtextual evocation of doing the emotional and mental work of therapy, which Sam, as a modern protagonist, is usually caught up in. The mythic hero also deals with mortality, failibilty, and mastery, but in different terms. I hope I’m doing an okay job peeling apart these nuances that I’m seeing.

Since Castiel accompanied Dean to Purgatory, and in the past made his own wildly successful incursion into and out of Hell with Dean’s soul, and was the one in The Trap who actually retrieved the Leviathan blossom, Castiel counts as an underworld hero, too, but you can pull the lever and send the tumblers spinning again and make him a fairy tale character in that he has made this Bargain with the Empty which is both in the “modern” tradition of subverting a fairy tale, and the tale type “deal with the devil.” Or he could be seen as a modern protagonist in that he’s lowkey grappling with questions of selfhood and identification. “I am an angel of the lord.” “I am no one.” “It’s Steve, now.” “You are nothing.” “I am an angel.”

We even got an episode that playfully explored the concept of “hero” by subverting our expectations (Sam and Dean were rescued by, of all people, an upgraded Garth.) It was called The Hero’s Journey, after the Joseph Campbell book about mythic heroes.... !!! Like, what??? !!!! I didn’t even have anything to say about that episode, it just rocked. The “meta” was just all out there in plot, like the olives and boiled eggs in a 1950’s gelatin recipe. 

Some of this slipperiness in the subtext points right at the study of folklore and the (admittedly Eurocentric at first) efforts to transform a “soft science” into something approaching scientific rigor. The Aarne-Thompson-Uther folktale index is today a codifying or cataloguing tool, with which anthropologists and literature scholars can line up stories based on the motifs found within them-- it is useful for cataloguing tales, making comparative studies, and for trying to trace these stories back through human history to find the One First Story of that type, for instance the ur-story that led to Snow White. When did people first start telling that tale, where, how did it spread, and why are we still telling it today? The danger in using the ATU index is that by stripping a story down to it’s bones, we lose the story, if that makes sense. The beauty of using the ATU index is that you find many, many more interconnected stories. It’s sort of a paradox. Some scholars criticize the ATU, claiming that one could take a random selection of these motifs and shuffle them to create a story and, you sort of could? That’s the beauty of the system. 

So that brings us to Jack. I feel like Jack, as in Jack of all Trades, is anything that the narrative needs him to be. As far as I can find, “Jack” is not a “tale type.” He shows up alongside any number of them-- sometimes as a trickster, sometimes as a hero, almost always as a kind of slippery character. In the first folklore post, I invested many words in exploring Dabb’s obsession with threes-- AU Michael asks three beings what they desire, asks his human victim to guess his name three times, then we follow three sleeper stories, and so on. The original TFW was three people. But Jack makes four. 

What is Jack’s story going to be?

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

And speaking for a sec about the origins of myth and folklore-- what about ALL OF THE OTHER PEOPLE in the world? Are they lowkey churning the matrix of reality on their own and generating their own content, like Becky and her AO3 stories and mackettes? 

*¯\_(ツ)_/¯ intensifies*

It all just feels so good at this point, even the peril that I feel surrounding Castiel.

I *think* this will be the last of the longform metas before the end of the series. I mean, I can only hope so. I’ll drop some stuff about individual episodes that might be applicable as I rewatch, and I might clean up my post about Last Call and drop it on here, but I just wanted to kind of hold this up as a mile marker before the Final Seven air.