#and really wants to emphasize that loneliness so that the girls all fall for it and him and rely on him

[lingeringscars]

mariana is lonely after callie left. it isn’t always present, but it will hit her in waves. primarily at night when she can no longer distract herself from it. she still wakes up sometimes turning over to tell callie something. she still struggles not being able to run things by callie or share her life with callie to the same degree that she could when they lived together. 

[an-winner]

Pinkerton - Weezer

I’ve never actually written out a formal review of this album, either, but I figure I should anyway since I’m doing all the albums in order on this page.

Pinkerton is special. It’s one of those pieces of media that comes along once in a blue moon that really is a true spilling of guts (or spaghetti), that manages to be truly compelling in the process. I view it as similar to Catcher in the Rye, another piece of media that has a jaded and lonely protagonist, and much like Catcher in the Rye, Pinkerton is a story of somebody you shouldn’t be. Both Rivers and Holden are protagonists who are meant to be sympathetic to a point, i.e., protagonists you can sympathize for with their situations, but not with their actions. Rivers throughout the album almost seems to be pleading with the listener not to make the same mistakes he made during the events that led to the creation of it. If you can’t see Pinkerton in the same way I’m seeing it, and you’re somebody who’s in a similar situation to Rivers, please, read up on his biography. Read up on why this all happened, and read up on how he recovered from all of it. I know there are mixed opinions on Green, but ignore the music for a second and consider his (and your) mental health.

That being said, what makes Pinkerton so good? In my opinion, it’s the incredible instrumentation that goes along with the themes of the songs on the album. Every single song’s arrangement seems to emphasize the emotions you’re meant to feel for the song. It’s an incredible technique that I suspect came out of Rivers’ studying of classical music around this time. A few examples:

Tired of Sex: A song about Rivers feeling lonely in spite of constant physical intimacy, searching for emotional intimacy. The backing track begins sparse and slowly increases in volume as Rivers becomes more desperate.

Across the Sea: Rivers fantasizing about a fangirl in Japan who sent him a letter, figuring she could be a love interest as he’s so desperate for connection. The backing track begins with a silly little recorder that kind of emphasizes that this song isn’t meant to be taken terribly seriously, but goes into a very beautiful arrangement that emphasizes Rivers’ fantasies of this girl and his loneliness. 

El Scorcho: Rivers is talking about a crush he has on a girl at school in spite of all of his issues and wants her to just come up to him and say hi, because he can’t just say hi himself. The song is another arrangement that conveys desperation, but the way the guitar keeps kinda plonking in the background feels like it goes away from desperation and heads into delusion. 

Falling For You: Possibly Rivers’ finest arrangement on any of his songs. Gun to my head, this is my favorite Weezer song. It’s Rivers finally working up the courage to talk to that girl from El Scorcho, finding connection, thinking he’s found everything, thinking he’s gotten the girl and he’s going to be okay. (spoiler alert: he isn’t) The arrangement just pulls out all the stops here, with it just seeming to try and say everything will be okay but never really feeling like Rivers himself is convinced despite all he says.

And of course Butterfly is the perfect album closer as a representation of Rivers’ failure to really connect by dropping their connection after one night. Again, just, everything about this album hits me so hard. All of the songs hit me so hard in the gut and really work as a good reminder of who not to be, but what emotions can lead you to be.

Emotion is a powerful thing, and I feel it’s the absolute core of Pinkerton that pushes it beyond a simple rant and into true art. As with Blue, this is a 10/10 for me, but for slightly different reasons since it really isn’t exactly the same. Pinkerton is a very personal album that isn’t nearly as poppy and accessible as Blue is, but at the same time, just like Blue, it succeeds at everything it sets out to do. Every song keeps me interested in the narrative Rivers is spinning with his love lives, and the overall emotional arc culminating in the realization of his own stupidity is something that just keeps pulling me back in. It really is one of the best.

(So now that I’m done with that, for what it’s worth, I’ll probably be reviewing Blue and Pinkerton’s b-sides seperately, possibly both in their own entry? I’ll do it after Green and Maladroit though since chronologically dusty gems and raw nuggets came after those albums.)

[writingblackpink]

If You Leave Now, You Lose Everything (pt. 1)

read pt. 2, pt. 3, pt. 4

genre: angst (sorry)

word count: 3.5k

pairing: jennie x reader

You and Jennie have been together for two years now. While the relationship has been rocky as of recently, will you find a way to make it work before it's too late?

A/N: Hi! First fic on tumblr let’s goooooo! I hope you enjoy it :) Let me know what you think!

-

Her voice never sounded so cold.

“This can never work.” Her voice came out tired and weak. “We both know it yet we keep going around in these circles and it’s not healthy. For either of us. Sooner or later we were bound to hit a wall.”

Your eyes were filled to the brim with tears that threatened to spill out of your glassy eyes and over and out onto your flushed cheeks. You were standing behind Jennie, maybe ten feet or so, staring at her back facing you. She was holding her bags and was only mere seconds from taking a few steps and walking out your door for the very last time.

Your mind was a mess, but you shook it back and forth as if that would help your thoughts get in formation to help sort this out. You felt paralyzed in your spot; unmoving, barely breathing for fear of being too loud and breaking the deafening silence. You didn’t know what Jennie’s next move was, and for the first time in the two years you both had been together, you were afraid.

The relationship wasn’t all bad. You met Jennie when you were out shopping. You could see someone looking at you out of the corner of your eye as you sifted through some jeans on the rack and looked up just as she averted her gaze and easily jumped back into conversation with her friends, making it seem like it was all an illusion; like you made it up. You caught her doing this a few times while you were in the store, but didn’t think much of it. You knew she was a celebrity, in fact she was on a billboard right outside the store, but pop culture didn’t interest you much so you couldn’t say you were a big fan of her or her group. Not that you didn’t like them, you just didn’t know much about them.

Her group left the store and you finished your shopping uninterrupted. After checking out nearly half an hour later, you left the store with your head down, organizing your wallet in your purse when you heard a voice behind you. Not thinking anything of it, you kept walking until you heard the voice again.

“Hey! Hey, I know you can hear me!” She exclaimed. You briskly turned on your heels and not expecting your sudden movement, Jennie quite literally ran right into you. Catching her in your arms, you couldn’t help but think this felt like a movie scene. You looked down at her for a brief second, getting lost in her eyes. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. You figured the same was happening for her because as soon as you both realized what was happening, you jolted away from each other like you touched something you shouldn’t have.

She averted her eyes when she spoke next.

“I’m so sorry. I..uh...I saw you in the store and wasn’t sure how to approach you so I ended up leaving,” She meets your eyes, unsure, “but I came back when I realized I couldn’t pass up an opportunity to ask a beautiful girl like you out.”

That was the beginning of the relationship you thought was going to last a lifetime. For a while, it really seemed that way.

You and Jennie spent the first year of your relationship in absolute bliss. You were a lawyer and she was an idol, and being from different worlds meant you were both very busy, but you made it work. Not a day went by that you didn’t see Jennie, or at least heard her voice.

Just as the two of you began to talk about moving in together, your law firm offered you a job to start and lead the new branch in New York. After long discussions with Jennie that ended in promises to make the long distance work no matter what, you accepted the position and two weeks later were on a flight to the U.S.

If you would’ve known that would be the beginning of the end, you would’ve never stepped on the flight.

The second year of your relationship was the most tumultuous year of your life. Six months into your move, you could tell Jennie was starting to distance herself. You attributed it to her growing fame and the growing schedule that came with it. You were guilty of it too. With everything that went into starting this branch, you worked many late nights and long weeks and the time zones were much more difficult to sync up for a simple phone call than you had originally imagined it would be; trying to squeeze in ten minute conversations here and there throughout the day just so you could hear her voice on the other end of the line.

You two never even argued until just a few months ago. You had started something with her on a skype call after a few too many glasses of wine and a long stretch of loneliness, and after that night the argument seemed to never end. When she came to visit or you went to visit her, it seemed forced and anyone could see that you both were holding on to the miniscule threads remaining of your relationship.

To make matters worse, because of both of your busy schedules, your visits seemed to get shorter and shorter. What used to be an entire week together slowly morphed into a half of a week together that turned into only weekend visits maybe once a month. There wasn’t enough time to work on your problems even if you realized what they were before it was too late.

Now, here you are in your New York apartment. Another weekend visit gone awry, but you’re becoming increasingly frightened that this might actually be the end this time.

“If you leave now, you lose everything.” You croaked out, voice strangled from the effort of keeping the tears in. It seemed to be a lost cause as they suddenly overflowed down your cheeks and onto the floor.

“You lose us.” You continue when Jennie doesn’t respond. You were hoping that she was searching for the voice inside her that was telling her to stay just a little longer this time.

“Our friendship.” You keep pleading, your voice lowering to barely a whisper. You could hear your own pain seeping through the words.

“We said we’d still be friends if this didn’t work. What happened? What has changed?” This sounded more like a plea to yourself, but Jennie wasn’t sure, so she turned to face you.

It wasn’t a lie. When you started dating Jennie, she promised that even if you guys didn’t work out, that you would still remain close. She claimed you were just too special to not have in her life, either romantically or platonically. You had taken her word for it because you too felt Jennie as being someone too special to just cut out of your life. How things have changed.

She met your eyes and you could see the internal torment splayed out across her features. She was hurting too.

“Honestly?” Her voice softened, barely a whisper. “I had never thought that I would actually fall in love with you.” tears were now brimming her eyes as well. She remained standing by the door, bags in hand, eyes glossy and red.

You couldn’t hold it in any longer, collapsing onto the couch behind you and placing your head in your hands, hoping it would help muffle your sobs. You searched for a reasonable explanation for all of this. You guys could figure this out, right? All of the promises you made to each other had to be for something, right? You couldn’t accept that this is really how it was going to end.

“Why would you promise me-” is all you managed to get out, no longer able to complete a coherent thought in between sobs.

“I’ve never been in love like this before,” she said. Her voice was coming out stronger than before. “I didn’t know how to love another person until I met you. I barely even knew what it actually meant to ‘fall in love’. I can’t go back to being friends with you because nothing will ever be the same.” Tears were falling in tiny trails down her cheeks.

At those words, you quickly shot up from the couch and closed the gap. This time you were the hostile one. You ripped the bags from her hands and tossed them onto the couch behind you.

“Then tell me why we can’t make this work, Jennie. Tell me why you have to go. Tell me why you can’t just stay one more night and we can talk about this in the morning.”

Your pleas were sounding desperate, but you were running out of ways to get her to stay. At this point, you were just trying to slow the inevitable. You wanted to remember what it felt like to have her in your arms just one more night. You knew that as soon as she walked out the door, she’d be gone for good, and this time you wouldn’t have a date for when she’d come back.

You could feel your eyeliner melting off your face with your tears, but it was the least of your worries. You dug your index finger into her chest.

She quickly grabbed your arm and moved it down as she continued.

“I never see you. Even when we plan time to see each other it’s always a month after we last saw each other. An entire month.” She emphasized the last part, looking directly into your eyes, trying to get you to really understand. “My career-both of our careers are really just now starting to take off. If we keep this up we’ll only see each other once every six months.”

You looked down, realizing you were standing with Jennie’s hands in yours, and you watch as a single teardrop falls on them. Just like the day your relationship started, everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. You don’t even know who the tear came from at this point, not that it matters anyways. You looked back up with her with sad, pleading eyes.

She continued. “I can’t be friends with you because,” her voice pitched up as the tears became more frequent, “I can’t stand talking to you knowing that I still love you. Knowing that we had something, and now we don’t anymore and there’s nothing we can do about it. It won’t work.”

Her words shot through your veins like ice, and for a brief moment you closed your eyes, hoping that the stinging would go away, or that you would open your eyes again and all of this would be a dream. When you opened them and realized that this was very real, you didn’t have any words to say. Instead you moved your hands up to hold Jennie’s face. You stood like that for a moment before bringing your lips to hers. She returned the soft pressure, but nothing about this kiss felt right. Not after all the words you had just exchanged. Not after thousands of warm, passionate kisses you had shared in the past two years. It was forced, but it brought you some more time to process everything that was going on.

Jennie pulled away first. She used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe the tears from your face, and walked past you to retrieve her bags that had long been forgotten.

“Um, I’ll, uh, call you when I get home.” She said. Her voice was low. You stood paralyzed in place again. There was some metal clinking behind you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to turn towards the sound. She walked up to you, facing you, but you kept your gaze at the wall just over her shoulder. She took your hand to open up your palm, place something in it, and close your fingers over the hard metal. You didn’t even have to look to know what it was.

Jennie turned to leave, looking over her shoulder one last time before closing the door. Your gaze moved to the door as she closed it, and shortly after you opened your palm to see Jennie’s key to your apartment laying between your cold fingers.

You couldn’t remember how long you stood there before your limbs collapsed onto the hardwood floor. There was no strength in your body to pull you towards the couch that sat just a few feet away from you.

It was sometime in the middle of the night before you felt your eyelids flutter and sleep overtake you on the cold ground. Your phone laid on the ground near your head, waiting for her call. Maybe once you both had time to think about this you could figure it out.

Your brain rattled with ideas on how to make the relationship work, but you couldn’t tell if they were good or not in your current state, so you slept.

[okayto]

Mini-Review: Hyouka

After disenchanted student Hotaro Oreki joins his school’s Classic Lit Club to keep it from being disbanded, he meets Eru Chitanda, a kindhearted and inquisitive girl with boundless curiosity and a knack for getting him caught up in all sorts of trouble and mysteries.

I wanted a change of pace from all the comedies I’d been watching, so I took a chance on Hyouka, which Funimation describes as “a stunning masterwork that spins a charming tale of high school romance and mystery.” Mystery? Sure, sounds good!

Our first and primary character, Hotaro, isn’t a slacker, he just lives by a philosophy of energy conservation that means he tries to do as little as possible at all times: take the most direct route, find the most efficient method, whatever. At the behest of his older sister, he joins the Classic Literature Club upon entering high school, as it has no members as is therefore in danger of being disbanded. But hey, with no other members, that means he should be able to use the club room for homework and use as little energy as possible, right?

well

Turns out he’s not the only new member. Which wouldn’t be a problem (now he can leave!) except Eru Chitanda is so earnestly inquisitive about anything mildly curious and Hotaro is caught so off-guard when she asks for help that he finds himself agreeing.

Boy has a very minor crush, and was not prepared to deal with bright purple eyes looking at him beseechingly.

But since his life goal is still to do as little as possible, he’s actually gotten quite good at mentally putting things together, making connections and drawing conclusions (so he doesn’t waste energy on taking a long route, or having track people down). So he’s actually quite good at helping find answers to Eru’s questions...which means she’ll keep coming back.

Eru herself isn’t really overbearing, she’s just enthusiastic, incredibly sincere, and disarms Hotaro completely. It’s great.

While the mysteries, such as they are, form the impetus for most of the plot, the focus here are the characters and relationships. There are four club members total: Eru, Hotaro, his longtime friend Satoshi, and classmate Mayaka. 

The Classic Lit club itself does very little--they track down some information in the first few episodes, and create an anthology to sell at the school festival in a later arc--but the members find themselves drawn to mysteries that are, objectively, usually not big: trying to determine a writer’s planned-but-unwritten ending for a movie script after the writer falls ill and can’t answer questions; figuring out why the same book gets checked out by different people at the same time every week; finding a lost item; why someone reacted to a certain sound.

But Hyouka frames each of these as important and serious, because that’s how the characters themselves experience it: something that affected them emotionally, something they have to find out. It’s not just curiosity in all cases, it’s uncovering something about themselves, or feeling a duty to someone else. The weight and atmosphere we feel as viewers isn’t because we personally consider any of these topics important, but because we’re experiencing them through the lens of people who do.

The characters themselves are fun, and each have their own worries and insecurities. Several times throughout the series, we can see a character...not get taken down a peg, as that would imply they deserved it, but rather experience a normal part of life in which we all, occasionally, are forced to face the fact that our inner view of ourselves and the world does not always line up with others’, whether it be a marketing philosophy or one’s image of oneself as good at something--or viewing someone else as good or bad at something.

This familiar to all of us, or it should be (never having your views/assumptions challenged or reconsidered leads to personalities like Donald Trump), and the students in Hyouka sometimes accept the results, and sometimes it slides them into disarray.

Hotaro, for example, takes forever to admit to himself, much less anyone else, that he might be willing to put in some effort that’s not actually required? Just because he wants to? It’s a slow process, but by the end of the school year--and the series--he’s opened himself up, a little.

Eru and Mayaka both have more depth than they appear at first, more than you would assume from their easily-pigeonholed first appearances as “wide-eyed enthusiastic innocent” or “grumpy friend.” And Satoshi, my son, my favorite character--tries so hard not to get hurt, positioning himself as a friendly and enthusiastic “database” of information the others can use for deductions because if he’s that, then he doesn’t have to try at things he might fail at, and get hurt.

Verdict

English dub? Yes

Visuals: Can’t you just feel the setting sun on your face?

Don’t your eyes just want to instinctively squint a little in a sunset you’re not actually seeing?

Just for a moment, do you reach for a jacket that’s still stuffed into a closet?

Backgrounds are gorgeous, animation is fluid, and--while harder to show in gifs--a lot is shot like a film, with wide sweeping shots that serve to emphasize  a character’s loneliness or isolation, or close shots that avoid faces as characters wrestle with emotions.

Worth watching? Yes. I can see why the Funimation description is so enthusiastic. It’s a beautiful, enjoyable series. Not slice of life, but slower-paced than a lot of other shows I’m drawn to (action, fantasy, and/or comedy), but the pacing feels deliberate and doesn’t drag. It’s a great show, with 22 episodes.

Where to watch (USA, as of March 2021): Funimation (sub and dub), BR or BR/DVD combo

Click my “reviews” tag below or search “mini review” on my blog to find more!

[songfell-ut]

Chapter 9 is done, urgh

This one was quite the exercise in rewriting All The Phrasing. Stoopid fortunes. I ended up splitting it off again. Here it is! Hi, @lostmypotatoes! Next one very soon!

Sans and Frisk did not have a slumber party that night.

No, once they returned from the festival and she finished telling Sans exactly what she thought of his behavior, Frisk sent him to his room, then went to the office and stayed there. Not on the couch: she sat down at her desk to make a few notes while the fortunes were still fresh in her mind. By the time she was done, it was after dawn, her hand was one solid cramp, she'd lost all feeling in her rear, and she had filled up five sheets of paper.

Regarding the child – the one from her nightmares – there wasn't much to write, just key phrases that she suspected would be more intelligible when she'd tracked down the man who spoke in hands. Would Sans have mentioned it if he knew some way in which he didn't belong here? It could simply be his stay in the castle, but it felt bigger than that. She'd had nightmares about that horrible child throughout her entire life, and it had never wanted her to do anything before; had it known she'd meet him, and would its "business" be finished if she killed him?

For now, it was all morbid conjecture. She'd put it aside until she could talk to Sans without wanting to pull his arm off and slap him with it.

So. If she didn't open the box, her life would be adequate. There was a lot to be said for adequacy. Her children would have wealthy, loving parents, and never suffer from hunger, loneliness, beatings—the kind of pain that was all behind her now, the same way a loaded wagon is behind the horse pulling it. Staying busy with her lessons in the strict, orderly convent and then her duties as High Priestess had kept Frisk going, preventing her from having to look over her shoulder. Would marrying Luke keep it that way?

She had gone years without really thinking of her life before St. Brigid's, except for fleeting apprehensions about having to explain the scars to her future husband. Why in God's name would she want to dig that up in the course of remembering something even worse?

By definition, she didn't know the exact contents of the rosewood box. She just knew that when she was about thirteen, one of her teachers had finally explained to Frisk why she couldn't recall anything between her tenth birthday and her second month at the convent: "We could do nothing with you when you first arrived. No food, no rest, just tears and 'Take me back, please' for weeks on end," Sister Clair had told her, almost accusingly. "Your father came to see you for himself, and he was so distraught that he gave the Mother Superior his blessing to do whatever she thought needful."

Frisk had always accepted that the sisters knew best; her father's influence had probably been a factor, but it wouldn't have pushed them to take such a drastic step if it hadn't been absolutely necessary. She herself had done her fair share of comforting frightened or homesick new arrivals, and no matter how distressed they were, none of them had had their memories removed.

She also had come to terms with her father returning home from his visit without her. Her first solid recollection at the convent was of the Mother Superior taking her aside to tell her exactly who her father was, ensuring she understood why he hadn't been a more direct part of her life and why she would be staying here from now on. Accustomed to receiving girls born out of wedlock, the Mother had emphasized how lucky Frisk was that her father had come forward – discreetly – to acknowledge her and pay for her education, and that he would ensure she had everything she needed from then on. Even as a child, Frisk had appreciated how superior the convent was to her prior circumstances, and agreed that she was fine at St. Brigid's.

The only mystery to Frisk was why she had initially been so desperate to leave. She couldn't have been crying for her father; she'd always been told that he was dead, and never thought to question it. Frisk had seen over and over again that mistreated children never wanted to leave their parents, no matter how awful they were, but her mother had only visited her every few months throughout her early life, and once Frisk realized that Mama was never going to keep her promise to take her with her, Frisk had grown to hate seeing her. She hadn't been attached to anyone at the group home where she'd stayed as a very little girl, and when she was old enough to work in the castle kitchens, her only goal had been to avoid being noticed. What had she wanted so badly?

Since Sans had arrived, she had been more and more tempted to try something stupid and just crack the orb or chip off a few figuratively bite-sized pieces. But that wasn't how the magic worked, was it? The sisters had been very specific on how to take the memories back if she so chose, and her fortune had also made it clear that this was an all-or-nothing proposition. She would fully open the box and reclaim the contents, or throw them away for good, no peeking allowed.

At that point, Frisk almost stopped writing and tossed her notes into the fireplace. What was she doing? Why wouldn't she choose a long life with a respectable husband and four children? True, her efforts to free monsters from slavery wouldn't work, but that didn't mean she'd be totally useless. Besides helping humans – always a full-time job – there was still plenty she could do for monsters in captivity, and she'd lay the groundwork for others to finish what she'd started. After centuries of hatred and mistrust, it made sense that humanity wasn't ready yet to accept monsters as equals; she couldn't change the entire world on her own, so—

Except that she could. She could change the world for the better if she worked hard enough to achieve her goal, which she knew in her bones to be humans and monsters living in peace. But how could her lost memories possibly be the one thing that made the difference? And if they were, how was she supposed to deal with that much pain, knowing it would also affect at least one other person?

...But what about the joy, the love, the power, also to be shared? What about the child she'd bear in time for next year's All Souls festival?

That was another worry: the ferryman had said "your husband" for the first future, but "your child's father" in the second. That didn't seem accidental. Frisk knew herself, and she had no idea what would induce her to conceive a child with someone she wouldn't or couldn't marry, no matter how attractive he was or how lonely she might be. With her own morals and her mother's example to go on, she'd sooner die than let a married man near her, and she'd kill him if she found out after the fact!

Surely the fortune-teller would've mentioned the child resulting from violence or coercion? Its wry tone had implied that the father would be unable to talk her out of going to the festival, not that she'd escape from his clutches, which also eliminated the possibility of one night with someone she'd never see again or a man who would die before the baby was born.

So, in summary, she would have little triumphs, large regrets, old age, a decent husband, money, kids, in-laws, and grandkids. Very simple.

...Granted, it...didn't sound quite like the life she'd always craved, with joy and love, real parents, a huge family, and monsters freed in her lifetime, not to mention a man she loved enough to have his illegitimate child...and maybe Frisk could see Luke assuring her with a straight face that he'd "take an interest in her happiness," and maybe it was already making her cringe. Maybe she was already wealthy enough to marry anyone she wanted. Maybe she intended to keep working hard enough that, when she thought it over, she found she would much rather have one child than divide her attention between four who could very well end up being raised by servants. Maybe all these things were true.

...What was she trying to say again?

Right. Maybe all these things were true. There was still no avoiding the fact that she'd be exchanging a life of peace and stability for every bit of the heartbreak that had nearly killed her as a child, and somehow also share it with someone else. Was she stupid enough to open the box anyway out of curiosity, like the woman in the fable?

A treacherous little voice whispered in reply: Are you selfish enough to keep monsters enslaved because you're afraid of being hurt?

Frisk shoved the papers into a drawer and eased out of her chair, shaking her hand vigorously as the sun peeped in through the high window. It'd be time for breakfast soon. She wouldn't take Sans to pieces; she'd let him sleep in, then have him experiment with the alfalfa mixtures while she napped, though they'd need fresh seedlings before he could really get started. The supplies she had already ordered should be arriving this afternoon, which would enable them to try even more—

Sans was not sleeping. Sans was sitting in the middle of the workroom floor with no clothes on. He was holding a book up over his head and squinting at the words as though he'd never seen letters before, and gave a very elongated "Heyyyy" when he heard the door open.

Frisk stopped dead. "Hey," she responded. "What are you doing, Sans?"

"Wheeee," the skeleton said, and demonstrated by falling onto his back. The book stayed up, and his legs fell every which way, one bumping into a chair pulled away from the worktable and the other almost hitting the bedroom door. "'s hot in here," he explained, pointing at the ceiling.

Frisk looked at the ceiling, then at the windows. They were all wide open, and the workroom was freezing. She had the completely irrational urge to cover her eyes, and compromised by turning her back and heading to the windows. "We're going to pretend that it's not hot in here," she said carefully. What on earth was wrong with him?

In the time it took for her to shut one window and place her hand on the latch, Sans had appeared inches away. One enormous phalange wobbled its way up to push her hand aside. "No, 's hot," he explained.

The priestess was equal parts annoyed and concerned now, especially when he teetered against the wall. "Sans, if I did not know better, I would say you were drunk. Have you been mixing things without telling me?" She eased away from him, just in case.

The skeleton seemed to take umbrage: his eyes lit up. "Ya don' know better. I am absolutely drunk!" Just as quickly, his sockets were blank. He peered at the tiny-looking book in his hand and turned it to her, tapping a random word. "How d'ya say this? It's human. How do you human. Please."

Frisk eased back a little more, trying not to look at his pelvis, which was far too close to her eye level. "That's the word 'the,' Sans. If that's not the one you mean, I will have to ask you to be more specific." Should she make a break for the bedroom, or just put up a barrier while she had the chance?

Sans laughed. "Damn, yer cute! Lessee." He dropped the book and continued trying to flip pages in midair. A moment later, he realized his mistake, scowled, and lifted the book on a wisp of red. "Hold on. 's tryin' ta get away." Even the magic had trouble staying steady, she noted uneasily.

Someone knocked on the double doors, and Frisk heaved a sigh of relief. "You can find the word while I answer that, all right?" She lifted a foot to step around him.

Unbelievably quick, Sans sat down, extended a hand, and caught her around the middle in a loose, ironclad grip. Across the workroom, the bar on the doors glowed red and lifted; the doors swung open. "There," said the boss monster, tugging her closer and frowning at the book. "Who's what y'want?"

It was Dr. Serif, who stopped on the threshold, raised an eyebrow as high as it would go, and closed the doors behind him. "Good morning?" he inquired.

"Hands," the skeleton replied, still searching the pages for that errant word.

The priestess was still trying to comprehend what was happening. Was this some kind of bizarre prank, or a distraction from talking about last night? The longer he held on, the less likely either possibility seemed—he was too calm and too comfortable, as if this was something he was doing simply because he wanted to do it.

Here they were, then. With Sans seated and her standing, the giant skeleton could fold his arm and hold Frisk against him like a child cuddling a teddy bear, fingers spread across her upper legs and torso, her shoulders resting on his clavicle. This wasn't quite as scary as the last time he'd grabbed her, but...

Frisk tested his grip and was unsurprised to find that, though his phalanges were angled not to dig into her, they were about as movable as solid rock. "We're having a very interesting morning," she said to Dr. Serif, and mouthed Help!

"I can see that," said the doctor, who gestured for her not to move, then came forward a few steps. Sans' head swiveled, eyes fully lit, and the royal sorcerer turned his next step into a half bow. "I am glad to hear that you had a good time at the festival last night, my lady. Rumors are brewing about a woman with a highly interesting fortune who was called 'Your Eminence,' but no one is willing to swear that it was you."

That sounded like one problem too many. "Good" was all she could think to say.

"I can't find it," complained Sans. He tossed the book out the window. "Gimme another one, pl's."

"You can have it later," Frisk said acidly. That was her old science textbook from the convent, with her notes and doodles in the margins!

"Sans," said the doctor, "where are your clothes?"

The skeleton blinked at him, sockets still wide orange. "Off," he said, as though the sorcerer was being stupid.

"Of course. How silly of me." Dr. Serif bowed vigorously, letting the motion carry him forward. "Tell me, what did you have to drink at the festival?"

"This asshole was comin' onta her." The skeleton's now-free hand patted Frisk very lightly on the head. Despite her irritation, the priestess couldn't help smiling. "I hit 'im with cider," said Sans. "Damn good cider. 'sat why those people were goin' at it, Frisk?" he asked curiously.

The priestess was no longer smiling. "Sans intervened on my behalf when a man wouldn't leave me alone," she explained to the straight-faced doctor. "We tried some apple cider—why can I still smell it on you, Sans? And yes, we saw a couple who couldn't wait until they found somewhere private. I have no idea what they'd been drinking, but it wasn't what we were having."

"Hmmm." Dr. Serif watched Sans, who was examining the back of Frisk's head, then produced a scroll from his robe pocket. "The monster Snowdrake has been confiscated from his owners, effective immediately. I've brought the paperwork for you to take official custody, my lady. He will be here once the captain of the guards has finished questioning him."

Sans started. Frisk tugged at the skeleton's enormous metacarpals. "Let me go, Sans, please."

Very reluctantly, his hand uncurled to let her wriggle free. Trust the doctor to be a step ahead of everyone, she thought as she accepted the scroll, unaware that Sans was staring fixedly at him. The priestess smoothed out the papers on the worktable and began skimming through it.

Sans turned around so that he stretch out on the floor lengthwise. The doctor wrinkled his nose at the colossal skeleton, then peered over Frisk's shoulder as she came to several blank lines for an address. "Where is that, my lady?" he asked as she began writing.

"It's a house I own on the edge of the city. I've been renting it out, but the current tenants have already moved for the winter, so I'm putting it down as Snowdrake's official residence."

"Well done." Dr. Serif glanced at Sans, then suddenly flicked his fingers across Frisk's back. "Forgive me, Your Eminence," he said as she jumped, "there was a spider. We'll have to have your rooms cleaned soon."

The High Priestess scratched her back, gave him a terse nod, and went back to the scroll, moving away from him.

Sans was on his feet. He said to Frisk, "'Scuse us, kitten," then grabbed the doctor and vanished.

She wondered why he was so upset, and why he'd teleported Dr. Serif just a few feet away into the office. Well, at least he'd let go of her without a fight. Should she check on him to be sure he wouldn't hurt the doctor?

After a moment, she shook her head. She'd have to let them hash it out. What was the worst that could happen?

 ~

 The moment they reached the office, Gaster dropped his disguise, summoned six extra hands, and gripped the boss monster's arms before Sans could dismember him. "Easy, now," the older skeleton cautioned him. "Don't disrupt Her Eminence any more than you already have."

"Oh yeah? 'll disrupt yer fuckin'—"

Smack. "Hold still," the doctor rasped, and Sans jerked convulsively as a hand gripped the back of his skull. A moment later, the hand disappeared and left Sans with his eyes shut tight. "Can you think now, insofar as you are capable of it?" snapped Gaster.

Sans blinked at the hands grasping his arms. They disappeared, too, and Sans looked down at himself. "What." He twisted around to look at his backside. "The hell are my clothes? What'd ya do?"

"I sped up the metabolism of the ethanol molecules that were causing you to lose track of your clothing and treat the High Priestess like a toddler with his favorite toy. In short, you were drunk, and you no longer are. Would you care to tell me how much alcohol it took to inebriate someone your size so many hours after the fact, and how you did so without the lady knowing?"

Sans had gone red. "All I had last night was turkey an' cider!" he protested. "She wouldn't let me try anythin' else! She had the exact same stuff, 'n she didn't get plastered!"

The older skeleton regarded him with narrowed eyes, which was extremely creepy. It made Sans think of Frisk's first question, the one about the child from her nightmares—had Frisk been talking about him? If so, then how did he not belong here? Did the kid's unfinished business with him involve murder? Why?

Why should they beware the man who spoke in hands?

Gaster started to speak, and Sans cut him off: "Were you tryin' ta piss me off back there? Are ya after Frisk, or d'you just wanna screw with me? Whaddya want?"

"To help," the doctor said calmly.

Sans sat down with a mighty thmp. "Ta help. Of course. Why didn't I realize that already?" He tapped his phalanges on the carpet. "Who are you helpin', besides yerself?"

"That is a very large question." Gaster also sat down, on the edge of the desk. "My most immediate goal since Frisk became High Priestess has been to aid her in restoring peace between monsters and humans. The longer I have worked with her, the more I find that, frankly, I like her, and I would like her to be happy if possible." No sooner had the words left him than a hand sprang up in front of Sans, who was already fully aglow. The hand held up a finger long enough for Gaster to add, "Which is to say, I admire her caring heart, her singing voice, her magical prowess...her determination. Would you agree?"

Sans' eyes felt ready to burn clean through his skull. Frisk would get even more upset with him if her office was destroyed, so he tried to say something civil, or at least something okay, or something that wouldn't get him smacked again. But he couldn't.

The hand waggled again, then vanished. "Everything I say and do is for one ultimate purpose, my boy: to gather data. I can help no one if I have insufficient information. Take you, for example." The older skeleton folded an extra set of hands in the air over his lap, like a lecturer settling in at the start of class. "Since the High Priestess made you her apprentice, I have considered your intractability to be an impediment to her plan. I ensured that she had a means of preventing your escape, and I have been monitoring your relationship to see if you were developing any kind of rapport. Now that you have, though, you have become a very different sort of problem."

The boss monster was still at a loss. Gaster was quiet, but it didn't feel as if he was trying to antagonize him again; this seemed more careful, almost sad, thought Sans. "In that respect, I have all the data I need," the doctor said. "I assure you that I have no personal designs on Her Eminence, and I will not imply anything further to that effect." He was looking through Sans now, almost talking to himself. "The more I resolve to be of use, the more difficult it becomes to discern where usefulness ends and interference begins. I am more inclined to let matters go where they will from here on, especially after the advice Her Eminence received last night. But..." The slashes on Gaster's face deepened. "It cannot hurt to exchange information. For example, did you notice that the 'ferryman' is a monster?"

"I..." Sans got his thoughts back in order, contemplated the fortune-teller and his cat-shaped table, and found himself nodding slowly. "Yeah. Yeah, I kinda did. He didn't seem very human."

Gaster chuckled. "It's strange how these things work. Where I come from, he is the ferryman in the Underground."

"Where you come from?" A chill crept down Sans' spine. He tried to force a laugh. "We just have a coupla Royal Guards runnin' our ferry. Wha, is there more'n one Underground 'round here?"

"No. There is not." The smile faded. "Now, my turn. None of the people who heard Frisk's fortunes told were listening closely to her first question, or the answer. What exactly were they?"

Sans still had that prickly feeling, like someone had held a door open too long and he'd glimpsed something he couldn't unsee. He probably shouldn't tell the man who speaks in hands that they were supposed to beware of him, should he? "Yeah, she asked about something from her nightmares that wanted her to hurt somebody. He said it's a child who wants Frisk to kill someone who doesn't belong here, something about it having 'unfinished business,' and that Frisk was its connection."

The doctor waited patiently as Sans hesitated. "I'm pretty much positive she meant me," the boss monster continued. "I saw the kid once, and I could tell it hates my guts." The boss monster took a moment to indicate that he didn't have guts, ha ha, but Gaster was unamused. "So that means I don't belong here, and some freaky little ghost wants Frisk t'finish me off? I guess? Any chance ya know what any of that means?" He scratched his patella, wondering if it was his imagination or if his body was feeling a little more touch-sensitive than usual, like his human self.

Come to think of it, he could sort of smell the air in here, though it wasn't as strong as any of the ones he'd encountered at the festival. And now he could vaguely remember Frisk being right up against him a minute ago, and that her hair had smelled like...a smell. All he knew was that he had liked it, and letting her go had sucked.

...Crap. What were they talking about again?

"I see," murmured Gaster. He looked down at his extra hands. "Forgive me if this sounds dramatic, or if it's very personal, but have you ever felt especially out of place, or dreamed vividly of things that you are sure never happened to you?"

It was more than a chill this time. "Yeah, but I figured everybody feels like that sometimes. I've had the same nightmares my whole damn life, over and over. They stopped when I came here and started sleepin' inside her barrier. So..." He scowled, trying to cover his fear. "Somethin' is makin' us both see things? Is that it?" He suddenly sprang to his feet. "Is that why I used ta dream about ya? Are you behind all this shit?!"

Two skeletal hands flew at him and stopped just short of his eye sockets. Sans froze, feeling sick and cold inside as he stared through the holes in the palms. Those hands, coming at him—

Gaster gave a long, tired, defeated sigh. "Data. I am sorry, Sans. This will be very unpleasant, but I need to know if it is familiar to you. Hold still, please."

Before the boss monster could react, a third hand dropped onto the top of his skull and—

 ~

 It was cold. Dark, darker, yet darker.

Papyrus wasn't moving. Sans struggled out of the restraints, threw himself onto the tiles and screamed at his brother, trying to shake the little skeleton awake, but pieces were already flaking off. Helpless tears streamed from Sans' sockets, soaking the dust into pink mud.

"Messy."

Sans whirled around, choking with grief and rage. He'd always promised himself he would kill the bastard before he let him hurt Pap! Why hadn't he—

Hands smashed into his spine, his ribs, and one square over his face, the palm large enough for both his sockets to see out through the hole. "I never could fix that design flaw," their creator said in distaste, poking at the red streaking Sans' cheekbones. "Strange...I always thought you'd break first. Ah, well." A philosophical sigh. "Now, the question of whether to finish with you and create a better set, or try a fresh copy of that one first. What do you think, Sans?"

There was a deep sound from behind Dr. Gaster, almost a snarl. It was Gaster's turn to whip around, his face contorted in surprise and every one of his hands flung up to defend himself. A flash of light, searing pain—

Footsteps. A dark figure bent over him. Sans whimpered as Gaster loomed back into his field of view. He should have known better than to hope he was dead!

But...Gaster seemed different, almost another person—paler, the cracks in his face more shallow and less splintered than the ones Sans had stared down his whole life. The hand that rested on Sans' forehead was...gentle? "I am so sorry, child," the scientist said quietly. "Forgive me."

Sans couldn't answer. He felt as if his bones were getting softer, his body lighter. When Gaster sighed, Sans watched tiny bits of himself blow away in the puff of breath. It was almost a relief to feel his SOUL flicker out like a candle and finally die.

 ~

 Sans clawed his way back to consciousness, sitting up so hard that he nearly banged his head on the desk. He looked around, but there was no laboratory equipment, no tile floors or piles of murky dust, just the desk in her office.

Frisk's office. He was here. He wasn't dead, Pap wasn't dead, Gaster wasn't—

"Please do not move."

The boss monster froze in place. "Now, tell me," the doctor said, shutting the door. "Have you had that nightmare before?"

Sans nodded imperceptibly. "Yeah. Long...a long time ago." He couldn't stop shaking.

He flinched as Gaster patted his shoulder blade. "Please don't be frightened, Sans. It was only a dream. I have never hurt you or your brother, and I have no intention of ever doing so." A black coat drifted past Sans' peripheral vision as the royal sorcerer went behind the desk. "To answer your last question, no, I have not sent any of your nightmares, or hers. As I said, I am here to acquire information. I try to avoid collateral damage in the pursuit thereof, but it is not always possible. For that, I sincerely apologize. I've asked Frisk for her help in calming you down."

Sure enough, a sound was coming through the door behind him. It was faint, but as Sans listened, he recognized her humming a slow, sweet little song. Out of her entire repertoire, that one was probably his favorite; he hadn't heard it in so long that he'd been on the verge of swallowing his pride and asking her to do it again. Had Gaster requested that one specifically, or did she know?

Gaster watched the tension fade from the boss monster's massive frame, and the smallest movements of his skull as he bobbed his head along. The doctor examined the center of Sans' chest, his eyes going very wide. Sans was too mellow to ask what he was looking at...probably his SOUL. Eh, whatever.

Presently, the royal sorcerer said, "Snowdrake should be en route now. Her Eminence is still checking that the papers are in order, as well as the deposit she will have to put down until the Church finds another buyer for him." A dry chuckle. "If I know Frisk, Snowdrake will not be sold again. In the unlikely event that someone discovers she's lost track of him, she will be rebuked and lose her deposit, and that will be all."

Sans moved his shoulder back. "She's not gonna get fired or locked up?"

"They wouldn't dare. Not for her first offense, and not for neglecting a single low-ranked monster. Our High Priestess is protected by very powerful connections."

That word took Sans right back to the child from her nightmares. "Why'd you show me that horrible thing with me 'n Pap, and how? I didn't see the ghost kid anywhere. Is the little psycho mad about that dream 'cause it wanted ta kill me first? What the hell is it, anyway?"

"One thing at a time, please. Overall, you may be on the right track, but that's a matter I would rather discuss with Frisk. I—"

"Quit callin' 'er by name. I thought you weren't gonna pull that crap anymore."

Gaster merely smiled. "If you'll bear with me for a moment, the best answer I can give you is that the mind is a terrifyingly powerful thing." Sans bit back his impatience as the doctor settled himself again. "When someone has suffered greatly, especially early in life, it is natural to try to move past those experiences as quickly as possible. But if the mind is active, intelligent, and magically gifted, failure to properly acknowledge these experiences can backfire very badly. Inner demons may become reality, or outside forces with malevolent intent take notice, or both."

"Geez." Sans rubbed the corners of his eyes, wondering where the hanky was. "Yeah, that'd explain why I never got any sleep before I shacked up with someone who could block 'em for me."

A beat of cold silence. "I am not talking about you."

The giant skeleton paused mid-rub. "Ya mean—"

"Most people in a great deal of pain will express it as destructive behavior toward themselves or others. It takes remarkable determination to turn that negativity into the drive to protect other people, rather than lashing out." The doctor shook his head. "I am impressed that she has not seen anything worse than the specter of an evil child. The fact that it can be stopped with a barrier suggests it is primarily external in nature, and her recognizing its intent without acting upon it is also a good sign."

Sans winced. "So, is she seeing it 'cause she's mad at me? Am I in any actual danger?"

Gaster laced his fingers together. "Its power and its ability to work through her will depend both on her intrinsic strength and the energy she has left after dealing with other problems—say, a protege who interrupts an expensive fortune-teller with crude questions in front of dozens of people, and then says 'See you next year' as she tries to get him away."

At this point, Sans would have been surprised if word of that incident hadn't gotten around. "Ya think she's still mad at me?" he asked sheepishly.

"I am not her, so I cannot say for certain, but I can ask you whether you've apologized yet."

"I didn't get a chance! She reamed me out 'n made me go straight t'bed!"

"After which you were drunk this morning, which I still do not understand, and during which you took sizable liberties." A hand popped up to rap Sans on the skull. "At the risk of interfering further, I strongly advise you to ask yourself whether you want to be a friend or a problem."

Sans digested this in silence. The royal sorcerer glanced at the door. "We have a few more minutes. I'd like to ask you a few more questions—nothing terrible, just some odds and ends I've wanted to discuss for some time now. You may do the same."

The boss monster thought it over for a moment. "What's everyone sayin' about her second fortune, the one with the box?"

"Your turn is already over." Two more hands appeared over Gaster's head, one holding a pen and the other a small notepad. "Now, you were a normal skeleton for most of your life, correct? And Papyrus remains as he was?" The hand with the pen swooped down and tapped on Sans' upper leftmost fang, then the top of his skull. "Hm. Intact. How interesting."

Sans swatted at the hand, which evaded him as nimbly as a bug and swooped back up to scratch something on the notepad. "Yeah, Pap's still Pap, and I wasn't born a big ol' freak. Don't ask how that happened, 'cause I don't wanna talk about it."

"Fair enough. Tell me, Sans, do you or have you ever smoked?"

"Smoked? From where?"

The doctor laughed. "I'll take that as a no." Scritch, scritch went the pen. "Do you have a predilection for violence? If so, is it against other monsters, humans, or both?"

"Uh...yes? Humans?"

"I see." Scriscritch. "What is your favorite food? Do you prefer any condiments in particular?"

"My favorite food's whatever I can eat! Haven't you heard what's happenin' in the Underground? Where the hell are you from, exactly?"

Gaster tsked. "In that vein, have any monsters besides yourself become more violent than usual?"

"Not...really. Undyne's more psycho than ever, but I think that's just her."

"Is the situation such that anyone has contemplated resorting to cannibalism?"

"Hell no! Don't even joke about that!"

"I am not joking, Sans. Has the Underground seen a marked increase in sexual activity?"

Great, now he was baffled and embarrassed. "Weren't you listening? There's no damn food! Why would anybody want to have kids right now?"

"A valid point, but to your knowledge, have any of the monsters been engaging in indiscriminate, non-procreative sexual activities?"

"Wha—why the fuck would I know that?!"

That earned him another smack on the head, though not very hard. "Language." Scriscritch. "Now, please be honest. Have you ever contemplated keeping a human as a pet? If so, do you believe you would treat her well, or would you—"

"That does it!" Sans lurched to his feet, eyes and face blazing. "I dunno what kinda sick fantasies ya got goin', buddy, but I'm not gonna play along!"

The royal sorcerer held up his hands, and the extras holding the pen and notepad vanished. "Let's move on, then. Tell me whether this is correct: the second fortune explained the consequences of Her Eminence either opening or disposing of a box. One result is a very dull and safe future, while the other would be shorter and more painful, but ultimately much more fulfilling. Yes?"

Sans sat back down, poking at a scuff mark on the carpet. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

"Unsurprisingly, many people are fixated on the latter possibility, because it would result in the High Priestess – if it is her, of course, which no one will say for certain, though they're certainly saying it – having a child by this time next year." One side of Gaster's mouth lifted. "It is a very popular misconception that human gestation lasts nine months, but in reality, medical experts consider a full-term pregnancy to be roughly forty weeks, or ten months. I will not contribute any sordid conjectures to the narrative, but if this aspect of her fortune is accurate, the necessary timing of certain events is self-evident."

"If?" Sans sat forward eagerly. "Ya mean it might not happen? No boring husband sometime soonish, no havin' a kid right away?"

Gaster stared at him for a little too long. "Where do you see yourself in this, Sans? Where would you like to be?"

Sans blinked. "Wha?"

"You escorted her to the festival, and mutual convenience led you to present yourselves as a couple, but you are not her husband. You are her apprentice and personal guard for the next twenty or so days, after which she will return to the usual course of her duties, and you will return to the Underground to report to King Asgore that the humans are interested in reopening diplomatic relations."

"Actually," Sans said, trying not to sound smug, "once my time's up, she's probably gonna come back Underground with me. She's got this big plan ta have monsters work with humans instead of bein' slaves, and it's too much fer me t'decide on, so—"

"So you would risk her life by bringing her directly to Asgore?" The doctor stood slowly, and the room seemed to grow darker as he glared down at Sans. "You idiot! Do you have any idea what will happen if the High Priestess is delivered to your King as he is now?"

"You mean, if he doesn't like her idea? Then I'll...uh..."

"You'll what?" Gaster's voice dripped with such scorn that Sans couldn't muster a response. "King Asgore is not interested in making peace! He would only meet with her in order to take her SOUL!"

The boss monster's mouth opened and closed. "But...if I didn't—"

"Asgore's sole aim is to become powerful enough to take vengeance on humanity. The King knows very well that only women with strong inborn magic may become High Priestess, and the moment he saw Frisk's SOUL for himself, he would be willing to fight her, you, and perhaps even Toriel to acquire it. Do you understand?"

Sans had never felt so small and stupid. Why hadn't it occurred to him that Asgore would notice how powerful Frisk was without being told? All he had thought of was the excuse to take her with him, not even bothering to remember how he had immediately noticed her SOUL and tried to kill her for it. He was smarter than this!

There was no time to beat himself up. He had to think. Her first fortune had said her efforts wouldn't bear fruit, and Gaster had mentioned Asgore "as he is now"; for the second future to come to pass, with Frisk changing the world and achieving her goal, the King would have to be more like his old, sweet-natured self, who would never have killed someone without at least hearing her out. "Whaddya think is in the box?" Sans asked abruptly.

Gaster frowned. "That's an excellent question. I couldn't even venture a guess without seeing the box myself, but I doubt Her Eminence would be willing to show me. After what you said last night, I don't think she would be receptive to you asking, either."

Sans let himself fall onto his back, staring at the wallpapered ceiling. Who the hell put wallpaper on the ceiling? "Nope. She'd kick my ass from here to the Underground and back."

"Crude, but accurate." Gaster sighed, twiddling his thumbs in elaborate swirls. "How very frustrating. We have so much information, but the most crucial component may be forever beyond our gr—"

The door banged open. "Excuse me," Frisk said to Sans, who got up and watched her shove the couch aside.

Gaster quickly resumed his disguise; luckily, the priestess was so fixated on the couch that she hadn't noticed. "May we help you, my lady?" asked Dr. Serif.

"No." The young woman yanked at a floorboard, and both monsters watched in astonishment as she pulled it up to reveal a makeshift safe. She removed the barrier and rummaged through the safe, extracting a thickly folded paper. "Here we are." Frisk scowled as she tried to remove the packet: the safe was so small that the paper was stuck lengthwise against something. The priestess dug downward and shoved the offending object up and onto the floor. "Here is the deed to my house in Riverview, and here's the key. You and Snowdrake will be able to stop there on your way, and no one will...Sans? Hello?"

The men weren't listening to her. They were looking at what had tumbled out of the safe: a rosewood box.

Frisk slapped at it, sending it tumbling back into the safe, which she resealed and covered with the floorboard and couch in rapid succession. "Don't even think about it," she said to them, dangerously calm, and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

The royal sorcerer scratched his cheek. "Memories."

"Hm?" Sans glanced at him. "What about 'em?"

"That type of wood is useful for preserving magical objects, but that shape and size are not common. Given the context of her second fortune and the emotional pain therein, it must contain at least one memory." Dr. Serif drummed his fingers on the desk. "How curious. Memory excision has historically been so abused that it was outlawed by King Stephin's great-grandfather. Nowadays, the procedure can only be authorized on a case-by-case basis by a Church official higher than an archdeacon, or the very highest ranks of the nobility or royalty."

Sans suddenly remembered a night not long after he'd arrived where Frisk had mentioned her father, and how loyal her mother had been to the duke she worked for. Just for grins, he'd looked up the hierarchy of nobility in one of Frisk's books, and a duke was the next best thing to being a royal. It all fit, except for the fact that what the hell was in the box? How did you keep memories sitting around like that? Why would you need to carve something like that out of someone's head, and how would getting it back make the difference between a future of "stupid perfect husband she didn't even like" and "monsters going free" plus "having sex sometime soon"?

One more thing came to mind, and before he could stop himself, Sans said, "Hey, Gaster. Doctor. Whatever you are right now. You say you're from another Underground or something?"

The doctor narrowed his eyes at him again. Even with a human face, it gave Sans the creeps. "Why do you ask?"

Sans almost said "Never mind," but the air still faintly smelled of Frisk – he'd have to ask her what it was, exactly – and he wouldn't get a chance to ask anyone else who might know, so, fuck it. "D'ya know if it's possible for a monster and a human to have a kid together? Biologically?"

The royal scientist raised his eyebrows. "Well," he said after a painfully long moment. "It is quite rare, but I am aware of several instances where a human woman married and had at least one child with a monster." He coughed. "With a skeleton."

But before Sans could even start feeling things about that, much less sort through them, the doctor half-smiled. "None of them, however, involved a boss monster." He stood, and walked to the door. "I'm sorry." He slipped out, leaving Sans to stare up at the wallpaper ceiling.

[markantonys]

yeah :/ i mean i get annoyed about how emilia's character is written, i feel like they could have had a meaningful relationship between her and maddalena but instead they went with the trite "lol girls just hate girls hahahaha fuck women" :)))) anyway such is life i guess

yeah! i can see why they wouldn’t have wanted to bother spending too much time on their relationship since emilia is such a minor character and even maddalena is a secondary one, plus the loneliness that maddalena feels is really emphasized by showing EVERYONE, medici and servants alike, being cruel to her, and that makes the scene when marco bello tells her she’s not alone all the more touching, plus i do think it’s sadly realistic that emilia would be so defensive of her longtime mistress and fail to realize that she and maddalena have more in common than she and contessina do. but even so i wish they’d done their relationship, minor as it is, differently!

that being said, this is one of the only unnecessarily catty relationship between women in the whole series and for the most part they did resist falling into that cliche. for example i feel like mother-in-law/daughter-in-law tension and antagonism is a super common trope (or evil mother-in-laws in general), yet all those relationship in this show are harmonious and full of mutual affection and respect (iirc even contessina and piccarda seem to get along decently despite what a turd piccarda is lmfao). then with contessina and maddalena, much as i hate contessina’s behavior, it IS understandable (esp. considering that she’s a super rich and privileged renaissance noble who wouldn’t give a shit about mistreating powerless slaves, whereas we 21st-century viewers are much more sensitive to that) and for maddalena’s part she really doesn’t engage at all and just minds her business bc she’s not in a position to stick up for herself and talk back to contessina.

and of course i’ve got to shout out to clarice and lucrezia donati, the first time i watched i really thought they were going to do this very same cliche of women hating each other bc of a man, and i was so pleasantly surprised when their relationship evolved into a genuine friendship later in the season! and as much as it makes me sad to see clarice regress a little in s3 and be jealous of lucrezia again, it does make sense that clarice can’t quite forgive and forget the hurt lucrezia caused her in their younger years, and it adds another layer of complexity to the relationship

[calliecat93]

Top 15 Star Trek TOS Episodes (Part One)

I debated on doing this until I did the second watchthrough/reviews... but heck with it. I don’t see it changing too terribly much after and I thought it would be fun. It’s been a fun ride with TOS and I didn’t expect to love it, but here we are. It ain’t a perfect show, but a good one with good characters, strong themes, and just the right amount of intrigue and silliness. I had a blast watching it, but let’s face it, some episodes are better than others. Some are goofy but enjoyable, some... well, they tried. Everyone’s got what they like and dislike, and these are the ones that I liked best. All is only my opinion, so take it with a grain of salt. So to finally cap off this watchthrough before I start the second one and also plunge into TNG, here is the first half of my favorite TOS episodes~

#15. Bread and Circuses

I didn’t realize this until I saw someone else point it out... but this is essentially Star Trek’s version of The Hunger Games, only combined with Roman gladiators. We have our main trio get captured by the government whom have already caused another Starfleet captain to succumb and he sentenced his entire crew to death. Thus we have Kirkg ivent he option of either doing the same, or he can remain in defiance and risk Spock and McCoy’s lives. Either way, he loses. It’s a good episode, showing Kirk given one of the most sadistic choices that you can give him... and yet he doesn’t break. Oh he gets plenty of hardship. He makes the choice to keep the crew form beaming down, which morally is te best decision. After all, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Kirk, unlike Captain Merik, chooses to preserve his cew’s safety as a captain should. Whatever happens to him makes no difference... but because Spock and McCoy are with him, him making that chocie means that they suffer theconsequences as they are not only thrust into gladitorial combat for their lives, bt Kirk is forced to watch and can do nothing. He tries to when Bones is down, but restrained form doing so. But even then he doesn’t back down or even consider it. Merik may have thrown away his whole crew, but like Hell Kirk is going to and concerning the other two, he accepts execution after Spock breaks the rules to save Bones, emphasizing the point more. It;s a really god episode to show just how much Kirk truly follows that responsibility.

We also have some great Spock/McCoy content here as the episode does put their relationship int he spotlight a bit. Their relationship is the most interesting to me so this was a great one. They bicker pretty much all episode with even the other guy they got caught with asking if they’re enemies, which Kirk just replies that even those tow don’t know. But I think if there’s any doubt that they don’t care about each other, this one promptly shuts it up. Spock, despite knowing that he can’t, defends McCoy and saves his life. This leads tot he excellent scene int he cells where Spock is trying to figure a way out, despite fully well knowing that he can’t break through the bars. Logically it would be pointless to continue fruitless efforts, but he tries to anyways. When McCoy tries to thank him for saving him, with Spock both hiding behind his usual logical shell while still focusing on the futile escape effort. Thus we get McCoy confronting him about being afraid of living and not knowing how to handle even one warm feeling. It’s a really good scene performed excellently by Leonard Nimoy and DeForest Kelley and is just a really good insight into their relationship. I’ll keep from going into any huge detail for if that review project makes it this far, but still an excellently performed scene, especially when it caps off with McCoy simply saying that he’s worried about Jim too, the one thing that the two CAN agree on without doubt.

This is at fifteen mainly because of a few small factors. I only know a few things about Roman history so anything about it went over my head and the ending also baffled me likely due to that. We also have it implied that Kirk did... it with a slave girl. Mind you the slave girl went to him and again it’s implied. But that still makes me feel... very uncomfortable once the girl did it under orders, and therefore not fully without consent. I’m gonna have to watch it again when I dot he more in-depth analysis, but... yeah. The ending also leaves without a real resolution to the planet, remaining as they are until they eventually fall just like the actual Rome did. I guess that was the intention, but... just kinda sucks that nothing truly got accomplished. Still from a character standpoint, it was a really good one for the Triumvirate and a great watch.

#14. For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky

So for those who have been following me since I began this venture, you know that McCoy is my absolute favorite character. So when we got to a McCoy-centric episode, I was excited! And overall, it was a good one. Not one of the best, but perfectly fine. We have McCoy diagnosed with a terminal illness and given a year to live. When he and the other two transport onto a meteor-esque spaceship, they encounter the priestess Natira and her people headed for essentially a promised land witht he ship controleld by The Oracle. As Kirk and Spock try to learn more, McCoy is left with Natira who has grown smittenw ith hima dn wishes for him to remain as her mate. Sadly, I feel like this pisode wasted a lot of potential. Bones, the Chief Medical Officer who is always taking care of everyone else, is now the sick one and has only a eya rleft, if event hat. But the only real signs of this is he’s a little weaker than normal, which tbf it was just diagnoses so he may not have the most severe symptoms bu it also kidna makes the fact feel... less urgent. Using that time to set up himw ith Natira also felt wasted since we have the potential of a very emotional story where McCoy sis truggling with his lfie and the others have to come to terms that e’s going to die and likely struggle to find some way, any way to save him... and we spend it with a Girl of the Week who we’ll never see again and on a romance that while it is kinda sweet, ultimately leaves zero impact. It just feels like there was so much wasted potential and the emotional weight that you DO get... it feels less strong if you don’t know McCoy’s history. We know it now cause of supplementary material and such, butt he audiece of the 60’s certainly didn’t, hence why this is fourteen on the list.

That being said, the episode is still good. What makes up for the lack of impact about McCoy’s status and lack of history is DeForest Kelley. The man put his all into this episode (he did in every episode, but especially here when he gets ot be center stage), expressing McCoy’s sadness and loneliness as he talks to Natira perfectly. You can feel that loneliness, that longingness for what Natira’s offering him, that need to just have... some kind of happiness and intimacy that he was just never able to truly have, especially now. He just feels so... sad and vulnerable. Even though we’ve seen him interact romantically with women before, he comes off as so nervous and uncertain about what he’s doing. Like it’s been so long since he’s been intimate with anyone that he is at an utter loss on what to do with it. Natira essentially takes the lead and is even perfectly fine with caring for him in the limited time that he has left. There is someone willing to be with him and to love him for the first time in who knows how long and willing to continue to do so despite him dying... is it any shock that he chose to remain? And even then he did so in part to save Kirka and Spock from death when they got caught... and even then when he found out how to get the ship on it’s actual course and out oft he way of danger, he called them immediately for help. Yeah he almost got his brain fried for it which tbf he didn’t know would happen, but it still shows how selfless he really is, still placing others well-being before his own. As a good doctor would and should.

We also have Kirk and Spock’s reactions to the news. Kirk only knows because Chapel pretty much forced Bones to tell him and the man looks like a kicked puppy when told. He even tells Bones that he doesn’t have to go on the mission with them when normally he’s all gung-ho about dragging him along, only allowing it because this time Bones actually wants to go. Spock finds out after they all get zapped with Bones taking longer to wake up/being briefly unrsponsive, where Kirk admits it to him. Spock is noticibly concerned, emphasized when he holds onto McCoy’s arm for a good 30 seconds just to help the man sit up. McCoy can already tell that he knows before Kirk say it...a dn chooses to just let it be and get back to the matter at hand. Then there’s McCoy after he made his decision and faces the two for as far as he knew the final time. Kirk argues with him and is all but begging him to come back since otherwise he’s gonna die, which McCoy refuses since...well, he’s gonna either die from collision or being shot down, or he dies of xenopolycythemia. Either way he’s on borrowed time, so why not at least let him live it hacving a shot at happiness? Kirk is upset. Spock is as upset as a Vulcan will express. McCoy’s not happy about it, but firm in his decision... so firm it kinda makes the end where he does decide to go back kind of a juxtaposition, but I ain’t complaining either. The cure is also too convenient, but again not complaining. It doens’t seem like that much of an episode at first glance, but once you sit down and reallye xamine it even if you know nothign about McCoy’s backstory or peornsal life, it relaly leaves an impact. Again, a testemant to Kelley’ performance. As such even wit it’s issues and waste of potential, I adore it~!

#13. Obsession

I don’t see this one talked about much, but I found this one... well I hate to say the word but fascinating. What can I say? I’m a sucker for character studies, and BOY do we have a good one with Kirk here. In this episode we have a mysterious gas creature thing killing the crew and eventually get into The Enteprrise. Kirk reacts badly to it. Why? Well his crew dying of course, but the big reason is because he’s dealt with this creature before when he was a lieutenant where due to hesitaitng for a brief moment, mass casualties including his commanding officer were killed. So now with this creature’s pesence, Kirk is ont he hunt to take it down once and for all. But as the title indicates, he’s leaning towards becoming obsessed with it. We se Kirk acitng more angry and reckless than usual, especially when he continues to choose this over getting out of the space to diver some vaccines whent heya re desperately needed... yeah we’ll try to ignore how uncomfortable that is int he current times for now. The on of his former CO is also part of the Enterprise crew, and Kirk is spreading that obsession onto him, even punishing him for hesitating as he had when you’d expect him to be more sympathetic. It’s an episode that really unsettles you because Kirk isn’t acting like Kirk. Even in Consciousness of the King when dealing with the man who... you know, caused a genocide that Kirk was a victim of, he mostly held it together.

It’s these kinds of episodes that always fascinate me. What happens when we put this character into a situaitont hat completeley unnerves them? How would they react? How would it affect their usually rational actions? What would drive them to behave in such a way? How do those around them react? Kirk is very much dealing with a trauma and while eh is able to convince Spock and McCoy that e IS sound of mind and fit for duty, it doesn’t change that he’s allowing the trauma and guilt to morph into a dangeorus obsessiont hat is risking numerous lives. Not to mention afecting a young man who is in a similar position to him and also lost a loved one, yet the one that you’d expect to have Kirk’s sympahty is the one he’s treaitng harshly because of what he himself went through. Yes Kirk realizes it at the end and both corrects his mistakes and takes outt he monster, and it was good to see that he was able to pull himself back. But it was still just so interesitng to explore Kirk in this kind of position.

Spock and McCoy were also on point with both knowing that Jim isn’t acting right and ultimateley confornting him. The whole scene where McCoy gives Kirk essentially apsycological analysis, bringing Spock in once Kirk gets partiulalry heated, and them both laying down the line and holding firm until Kirk properly assures themt hat he is fit for duty was such a great scene. So was Spock actually seekign Bones as he knows that he can better understand Kirk’s emotional issues and him trying to comfort Garrovic was nice... it failed but he was stillt rying to do the right thing when Jim couldn’t. It’just one of those episodes that a character analyist like me eats up. As far as flaws go, notign comes to mind, but that might change on rewatch. I had just had others I liked better that placed it here, but it was very much an episode that got my attention.

#12. Operation: Annihilate

I still remember the suspense that this episode had me in. So we have the crew arrive at a colony that is uner attack by these parasites that are infecting thema nd leading them to painful deaths. Its already bad when Kirk finds his brother dead and his sister-in-law dies in utter agony, leaivng his young nephew’s fate uncertain. But it gets worse when Spockg ets infected and while he does his best, he’s having a difficult time managing the pain. It shows too in not only the scene where he pretty much goes balistic, but every scene after where he’s moslty under control, you can see the pain in his body lamnguage, tone, and eyes. Nimoy did an excelelnt job at keeping up that usual Spock demeanor, but converyign everything through body language alone. The team has to work to find a way to get rid of these parasites before it kills anyone else and exterminate them fromt he colony.

IMO, this was when iot felt like the writers realized what they had with the Triumvarite. At that point it was mainly abotu Kirka dn Spock and hwile Bones got it better than a few of the others, he still didn’t feel... quite there yet. I mean Kelley wans’t evne including int he opening credits until the next season. Here though we have all three with something major going on that’s important. Kirk is trying to figure out how to deal witht he situaiton which has cost him two fmaily members and may cost him his kid nephew. Spock is n pain due tot he parasite but still trying to perform his duties,e ven beaming down to get one of the parasites sicne as he’s already infected, he’s not at risk. McCoy is tryign to figure out how to get rid of the things and is the one having to keep both Spock and Peter alive. These all intersect together and the three just have this great chemistry. Their dynamic isvery mucht he thignt hat I loved most whenw atching the series, and this is when it felt like it clicked into place. The climax isalso heart-breaking. They figure out that bright lightcan kill the parasites, but McCoy is worried about what that intensity can do to Spock. He’s reluctant, but both Kirk and Spock push him to do it and while it’s successful in killing the parasite, it elaves Spock blind. Then Bones finds out that he didn’t need to turn it up that high and would have know had he just waited a few moments. While Spcok accepts it as a necessary loss, Kirk can barley hold back his fury... thoguh I DON’T like how the blame all get put on Boens when Kirk made him do it. Evenw hen Kirk tells Bones later that it wasn’t his fault, just by Bones’ face you can tell that he fully blmes himself.

That does bringmy big criticism though that lande dit at twelve. The ending is... nto good. I mean yay the succeed, but it felt like this was meant to be a two-parter, they couldn’t get the seocnd part, and had to make a hasty resolution to clear up the plot quickly. Not only is Peter’s face never mentioned or do we see Kirk’s reactionw hether good or bad, but Spock... is fine. He had a second eyelid that NEVER comes up again and he had just forgottena bout it. I now that TOS wans’t a serialized show but it not only felt like a waste of some potential story and character development for all three of our boys, but like haivng Spock blindd at all and sending McCoy down that guilt trip was utterly unecessary to begin with because it all happened int he last five minutes. I’mg lad that Spock was okay, and the end where Bones asks Kirk to not tell Spockw hat he said about him being the best First Offficer int he fleet, which Spock ehars and thanks him for half-enuinely, half-jokignly, again it feels like it was unecessary with how lat eit happened and how little impact it ultimateley had. Because of that, it landed here. But it’s still an enjoyable episode that again, felt like when the Triumvirate truly clicked into place and gave us even more good material after,

#11. The Naked Time

When I got to this episode, I had to remember how I quit as a teenager right before this and proceeded to yell ‘why didn’t you just go ONE more episode you idiot?!” to my past self. I really enjoyed this episode mainly for the concept. A virus that erases one inhibitions and self-control. Some of them are wa ky like Sulu with the fencing sword, which was also the most entertaining part of the episode. But it’s still interesting as we see these characters just give into whatever they’re desiring without any sort of thought and it erupts into chaos. It WAS a tad uncomfortable cause... you know, we’re watching a spreading virus that came about cause someone failed to follow proper safety guidelines while we’re living in a pandemic. But that’s not the episode’s fault.

It especially got interesting when Spock got it. This is the fourth episodes aired (I think it’s later in production order but I watched the order Netflix gave me) but even then we saw that Spock was a logical, very in-control character. We din’t know all the details anout him yet or that much about Vulcans, but we’d seen enough to get the general gist of the character. Then due to the cirus, those mental barriers begin to crumble rapidly. The scene where he is alone, trying to force himself to gain control of his emotions and ultimately failing as he breaks down... damn that was an excellent scene. Apparently it was thought of on the spot by Leonard Nimoy and he only had time for one take. Boy did he nail it. That was the moment I became invested in Spock as a character and in his and Kirk’s relationship as Kirk tries to snap him out of it, even risking getting infected himself because he needs Spock.  I think that there are episodes that I enjoy more and the weird time travel ending made the ending really weird. Hence why this just barely missed the Top 10. But back when the show mainly gripped me for it’s science fiction concepts, this was a really good episode. It was the first one I went and watched twice before moving to the next one. I’m just so interested in the idea of losing your self-control and how you and others around you deal with it. Maybe it’s the analyst in me talking, but damn those mental concepts always get to me! A fun watch that was essentially the episode that convinced me that yes, this show is good and this time I wasn’t backing out.

#10. Mirror, Mirror

Top 10 now! Here we go! So.. mirror alternate reality. We’ve seen this a billion times in just about every media ever. IDK how common it was when Star Trek did it, but I always love this kind of concept snd seeing how a character would act if things had gone even slightly different. The Mirror Verse is admittedly a little too cartoonishly evil, but does come across as a fascist dictatorship, so I can’t really complain. Anyways, Kirk, McCoy, Scotty, and Uhura and up there and now have to figure out how to get home without anyone catching on that they’re not their counterparts. One thing I love is that it gives Scotty and Uhura some much needed focus and they are both awesome with Scotty being his usual miracle worker self and Uhura kicking ass as she gets info and outright threatens Sulu when he tries to come on to her. God I love that woman~

The Mirror Crew are essentially one-dimensional monsters with the exception or Mirror Spock. He’s still the logical being that we know him as, but much colder and ruthless as well. Yet he still is the closest to matching his usual self and has at least some level of decency compared to everyone else. It’s probably why Kirk was so convinced that he could cause a turn around at the end. He’s not good, but he’s still more good than anyone else on that ship. Yeah the guy who forcibly mind melded McCoy without consent (and how much we judge that I’ve seen varied but I consider it a horrible invasion of privacy that they shouldn’t have brushed off) is still FAR better than anyone else if that indicates how bad this universe is. Seeing his and Kirk’s interactions was super interesitng as clealry Mirror Spock caught on quickly that something was up, but chose to prolong it until near the end. It’s interesitng to observe. I also just love seeing our four heroes handling the situation. They all act effectivlynd manage to keep up the masqurade very well with only Spock and Marlena figuring it out. It’s one of the more diverse ensembles and I wish they had done more diverse dynamics than here, but it was great to see.

I think my only issues aside form McCoy’s potential trauma being glossed over (though I do love how he insisted on saving Mirror Spock and risk not making it home cause damn it, he’s a doctor no matter what) is how we don’t get to see the four’s mirror selves aside form once, where only Kirk gets a characterization as a cartoonishly violent brute. We hear a few things about them like Mirror McCoy’s sickbay essentially being a torture zone, but that’s it. I guess it was due to only having an hour, but I wish we had gotten to see how Spock’s end of things and how he interacts with them aside form Kirk, which that didn’t amount to much anyways. Ah well, fanon has covered both of these pretty extensively from what I can tell, so I shall settle on that. Still it was an enjoyable episode. I’ve seen better Evil Universe stories (nothing’s gonna beat the Justice Lords from Justice League for me tbf), but still a good one with a good ensemble, good character moments, and a unique threatening situation for our heroes to navigate through.

#9. Amok Time

AKA, the episode that more or less created the Slash Genre as we know it. But we’ll touch ont hat later. For now, one thing that I was really hoping for when I got to Season 2 was learning more about Vulcans and their culture. We knew a few things by then, like certain physiological differences between Vulcans and Humans and of course their logical philosophy. But S2 explored them and their culture more, and this was a big one. Spock is acting uncharacteristically agressive and refuses to explain why. Eventually he reveals that he is undergoign Pon Farr, aka going into heat. Unless he goes to Vulcan and does... ugh... mating and soon, he will die. IDK how they got away with this on a 60’s show, but I ain’t complaining. It does that exploration into Vulcans that I was hoping for. Hell we grt to finally see Vulcan... well a section of it but we still got to see it for the first time! It was interesitng to learn about Pon Farr and the rituals that go into it like how maitng works (weird that the logical Vulcan species has arranged marriages, but whatever) and seeing more Vulcans outside of Spock. It’s the kind of world building that does my heart good~

It had a lot of really good moments. Spock explaining everything to Kirk while trying to keep himself from killing him. Chekov being uttelry done with everything as they keephanging course to and from. Ulcan. Spock inviting not only Kirk to the ‘wedding’, but also McCoy, showing that despite their arguments he undoubtedly considers him a close friend. Hell McCoy imo is the true hero of the episode for being the one to catch that something was worng with Spock and his in-genius plan to fake Kirk’s death to keep his two idiot best friends from killing each other without pissing off any Vulcans. Seriosuly, the man needs all the appreciation in existence. And of course, we have the kal-if-fee where T’Pring (great antagonist BTW, will explore her when ai do an a tual review) forces Kirk against Spock. What ensued, while I fully believ eunintentional, forever generated a whole wave of slash and outright invented the term. While I’m not even close to as into Spirk as others, there is no denying how impactful the ship was to fandom culture and to the LGBT+ community. It is a legavy that I hold respect for since it really gave people like myself creativity and enpowerment for over 50 years, and is still generaitng works even now. That is something to respect.

As for it’s placement... the ending was a litle weird. It felt like they didn’t know how to have Spock cured without him either killing someone or doing hanky panky, so he just... gets over it agter thinking that he killed Kirk. It is a good moment, especially his reaction when he sees that Kirk is alive. That was a very justified emotional response that made me smile... and laugh when he tried to deny it haha. ButI find it hard ot buy that a biological funciton like that just... went away. But ah well. It was still an ejoyable episode with some great Vulcan content, McCoy being an underrated badass, and the moments that slash shippers will forever be grateful for. But speaking of slash...

#8. All Our Yesterdays

Sorry Amok Time, but THIS is the slashiest episode in the whole show. While I didn’t get into Spirk much, I got head over heels for Spones. IDK what it was but their dynamic has always been enjoyable and it just... really drew me in. Most of my favorite moments were between this two like the moment in Bread and Circuses and more I’ll go into later, This is essentially The Spones Episode despite what actually happens. Our heroes are to clear a planet that’s sun is about to go supernova, only to find it already gone. Kirk ends up going through a portal when he hears cries for help and when Spock and McCoy go agter him, they end up in an arctic-like area. They were all sent to different points of th eplanet’s past, Kirk in some old timey point and Spock and McCoy even earlier. Now they have to figure out how to get back and survive their situaitons. Kirk’s plot has nothing special tbh and with a few adjustments could have been written out entirely, hence why this is at 8. But Spock and McCoy? Ho boy, their scenes MAKE this episode.

Spock and McCoy try to survive the harsh conditions, the latter almost dying of severe frostbite. He outright tells Spock to abandon him with Spock being VERY adament that that’s not happening. They’re rescued by a woman named Zarabeth and Spock proceeds to spend most of the episode interacting with her while tending to McCoy. Which he gets VERY touchy feely with the latter. Like... a lot more than normal, which tvh the whole seaosm felt that way between those two if what I said about The World is Hollow... counts for anything. Now he DOES end up ‘falling’ for Zarabeth, but there’s a reason for that. Spock is regressing to how his ancestors acted at the time, which was like ‘barbarians’. When amcCoy starts to realize that something’s wrong, it leads to two very intense but really well done scenes with McCoy using logic against Spock to make him realize that he’s lost himself. And while Spock pretty much gave up greitng home due to all of this, McCoy refuses with or without him, even outright going back into the storm to find the portal because damn it, he wants his life back. Then when we find out that Spock and McCoy HAVE to go back together or not at all, it doesn’t take Spock even a second to decide to leave Zarabeth behind. It’s sad because Zarabeth will die a cold, lonely death and she cdoesn’t deserve that at all, so it’s bittersweet. But man next to the katra thing int he films, IDT it gets more symbolic than that.

Like I said, Kirk’s scenes in the past are the only real issue I have since aside form explaining a few things about he situation, feel like they’re just there so that Kirk can still be in the episode prominently. I had some problems with Spock’s OOC behavior, but that got an explanation and has some credibility with how Vulcans are psychically linked. Would explain why McCoy and Zarabeth never seemed to regress. But it was still a good episode with great Spock and McCoy scenes, we FINALLY git a snow environment after forever (and a time travel plot to boot), and a bittersweet but nice ending. Seriously when Spock and McCoy make it back safely and Kirk just touches them on their shoulders in relief is such a nice moment. God I love those three~! Season Three wasn’t a strong season but it still had it’s standouts, and this was very much one of them for me. But I AM biased cause Spones, so take that for what it’s worth!

And that’s enough for now. The last seven will be in another post. Thank you for reading everyone~!

Image Source: TrekCore TOS Gallery

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Wizard of Oz Queen x pre-teen reader Chap. 8; The end of the Warlock of the West

*Author’s note*

And here we arrive at the climax of the story, along with probably the most ICONIC death in film history. And like I said this chapter is pretty long cause there’s soooo much going on here but I hope you all enjoy this chapter. And there’s only one chapter left of this series so buckle up and get ready for a wild ride in this chapter.

Warnings: monkey attacks, death, being burning ‘alive’.

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things​

@waddles03​

@psychosupernatural​

@simonedk​

@ixchel-9275​

@platawnic​

@queensdivas​

@queendeakyy​

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​

@kairosfreddie​

@geek-and-proud​

_____________________________________________________________

We were now walking through the trail that would soon led us to the fortress of the Warlock of the West.  Vulture’s and ravens cawed down at us and faintly we could hear the familiar laughter of hyenas.

“If I hear one more hyena laugh……” Scarecrow trailed off just as a vulture startled him when it landed right on a branch beside him.  He jumped back towards me and hid behind me. “Uh—” he cleared his throat, “Don’t worry (y/n), I’ll—I’ll protect you.”

“Mm-hmm.” Lion hummed lowly. “Now this might not be the right time to bring this up—”

“Then don’t. The quicker we get this task done the better.” Tinman said.

“I was going to say that there have been rumors of ghosts guarding this part of the haunted forest.”

“Ghosts? Bah, ghosts.” Tinman muttered annoyedly.

“You don’t believe in ghosts?” asked lion.

“Of course not, that’s utterly ridiculous. Ghosts are nothing but—WHOA!!” We all exclaimed as Tinman was suddenly lifted up high above the trees before suddenly falling right back down to the ground. Scarecrow and I helped him up as lion looked at us.

“I told you so.”

*3rd Person POV*

From his tower, the Warlock who had been watching the whole thing from his crystal ball chuckled.

“You’ll believe in more once I’m through with you.” he looked down to see three of his flying monkeys standing all around him watching the crystal ball.  He circled around to the one that was standing at the window who wore robes of a captain. “Take your army to the haunted forest and bring me that girl and her dog. Do what you like with the others, but I want her alive and unharmed. They’ll give you no trouble I guarantee you that.”

The monkeys all huffed and hooted as they prepared for flight.  The Warlock stopped his captain and emphasized.

“Take special care of those ruby slippers. I want those most of all. Now fly! Fly!” Soon they took off, along with almost a thousand other flying monkeys. “Fly! Fly my pretties fly! Fly! TAKE THEM ALL! TEAR THE SCARECROW! RIP THE LION! AND CRUSH THE TINMAN! FLY!!”

Flying over the forest, the army of flying monkeys soon spotted (y/n) and her friends.  When they heard all the chattering and hooting from above, (y/n) and her friends looked up in horror to see the army flying towards them.

They ran further into the woods but ended up getting separated once the first section of the army reached the ground. Over 10 monkeys chased after (y/n) who ran screaming for help.

About 20 monkeys were pining the Tinman towards a tree, taking his newly rebuilt axe away from him and trying to crush him with either rocks or their own fists.  Lion was trying to fight off about half of what Tinman was facing, but it wasn’t easy.

They crawled all over lion biting and scratching him while lion (who was now in full lion form) tried fighting back.  Roaring as he did but sadly his roars just weren’t that frightening enough to get them to back up.  Soon they overpowered him and had him toppling down a hill.  

As for scarecrow well—the seven monkeys that had him began ripping him apart and dancing on top of him.

Soon the monkeys would succeed in their master’s orders.  2 of the monkeys that had the lead behind (y/n), caught up to her and took her by the arms before taking off flying.

“No! Toto! Lion! Scarecrow! Tinman help!” Toto, who was still on the ground, looked up to see his master flying high in the sky with the rest of the flying monkey army.  Unfortunately, he too, was captured by a single flying monkey.  

Once they had what they their Master’s targets, the rest of the ground army dispersed and as quick as they came, the flying monkeys flew back to the fortress.

“HELP! HELP!” Scarecrow called out helplessly from the ground.  Tinman who was scuffed up and scraped from rocks being beaten on him and lion who was bitten and scratched up bleeding came up to scarecrow and lion asked.

“What’d they do to you?”

“They tore off my legs off and they threw them over there. Then they took my chest and they threw it over there.”

“Oh that’s you all over the place!” Tinman interrupted.

“And I thought I got the stuffing beat out of me.” Lion quipped back.

“Don’t stand there making jokes, put me back together! Those things took (y/n)!” together lion and Tinman worked together in trying to put scarecrow back together again.

*My POV*

I had been taken to the dark fortress of the Warlock of the West.  I was flown to the highest tower where inside was a large magic room with a large crystal ball, bookshelves filled with books, and a table with what looked like powder and potions brewing.

Sitting right at a chair was the Wicked Warlock himself who had Toto in his arms stroking his head forcefully.

“Such a good dog.” He cooed down mockingly to Toto before placing him inside my basket that I had dropped back at the forest. The Warlock placed Toto inside of it before I was pushed right towards the Warlock by two of the monkeys that had taken me. “And you my dear, so kind of you to visit me in my loneliness.” I tried to get to Toto but the monkey that held it hissed at me baring it’s large sharp fangs at me.

“What are you gonna do to my dog? Give him back!” I pleaded with the Warlock but he just said to me as he looked down at me.

“All in good time, my little pretty. All in good time.”

“Oh please give me back Toto.” I begged him.

“Sure. Once you give me those ruby slippers.” I looked down at my feet and said.

“But Fiyero told me not to.”

“Very well,” he circled around me and said to the winged monkey. “Take that basket and drown it in the river.”

“NO! NO PLEASE DON’T! You can have them. Please take them but just give me back my dog.”

“That’s a good little lass. I knew you’d see it my way.” The Warlock grinned at me as he turned back towards me.  He knelt down to take the slippers off of me when suddenly he was struck by some magic lightning that came out from the shoes.

He screamed in pain as he took back his hands trying to shake the pain out of them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know that would happen, can I please have my dog back?”

“No! I was a fool to forget. Those shoes will never come off…..as long as you’re alive.” What? Oh god was he gonna—“But that’s not what’s worrying me. It’s how to do it. These things must be handled delicately. Or you’ll hurt the spell.” As the Warlock pondered, I noticed that Toto had now peeked out of the basket and took off running.

“Run Toto run!” I cried out as he ran out of the open door.

“Catch him you idiot!” the Warlock screamed at the monkey who now took off after my dog.  I quickly ran towards the window to see the faint speck of my dog jump off from the gate and run down the mountain, dodging spears along the way.

“He got away! He got away!” I sobbed out a cheer.

“Which is more than you can say about yourself!” I felt a rough hand cup the bottom of my chin and I was now forced to look up at the Wicked Warlock.  His eyes seething with anger. “Damn you and your dog, you’ve been more trouble than your worth. But you’ll soon be out of my hair.” Taking a small knife from his sleeve, he cut a strand of my hair and walked towards a table.

On it was a small wooden bowl that he placed my hair into and a large hourglass with red sand and engraved along the handles were what looked like some sort of bird.

“You see this?” he turned the hourglass over and the sand began draining down to the bottom. “That’s how long you’ve got to live. And it isn’t long my pretty, it isn’t long.” He placed the hourglass down on the table as he proclaimed out. “I can’t wait forever to get those shoes!” he soon stormed out of the room and I heard the doors being locked up.

I looked at the table to soon see the bowl now having a small flame burning inside of it as the hourglass continued to drain.

This couldn’t be it. I—I can’t die here. No, no, no, no this can’t be happening. I’m a kid I can’t die now! There’s still so many things I hadn’t gotten to experience yet! And Auntie Em and Uncle Henry will never know what happened to me.

As I walked towards the crystal ball and collapsed right by the stone chair I began weeping.  I’m scared, oh please someone come save me! Auntie Em! Uncle Henry! Anyone please…..I wanna go home!

“(Y/n)? (Y/n)? Where are you?” Auntie Em?! I turned towards the crystal ball and saw that it was really her. “It’s me Auntie Em love, we’re trying to find you!”

“I’m here. I’m here Auntie Em! I’m in Oz locked up in the Warlock’s castle. And I’m trying to get home to you Auntie Em!” but soon her picture began to fade away.  

Her voice growing softer and softer as she continued to call out for me until the crystal ball went black.

“No….No please don’t go! Auntie Em come back please come back! Auntie Em! Auntie Em!”

“‘Auntie Em! Oh Auntie Em! Please come back!’ I’ll give you Auntie Em my pretty!” The Warlock’s face soon appeared on the crystal ball which made me jump back fearfully.  

He soon cackled before his image disappeared as well leaving me in nothing but pure silence and terror.  The hourglass continuing to countdown my hour of death.

*3rd Person POV*

Hopping down the mountains, Toto carefully jumped from rock to rock till finally he reached the bottom and ran back through the haunted forest barking frantically.

Lion and Tinman who were finally putting the last bit of Scarecrow together soon heard the sounds of a familiar dog barking. When the three of them looked up, they soon saw Toto running right towards them.

“Toto! Oh thank goodness you’re safe!” Tinman exclaimed.  Toto then began barking frantically that’s when lion stepped forward and knelt in front of the dog.

“Slow down Toto, I can’t understand a word you’re saying.” Slower this time, Toto barked at lion who nodded every other bark that Toto made. “What?” Lion said mortified. “Oh no this can’t be.” Scarecrow and Tinman shrugged not knowing what was going on as Toto continued barking and softly growling. “Well yes please lead the way. There isn’t a moment to lose!”

“What did he say?” asked Tinman.

“(Y/n) is in trouble. Big. Trouble.”

“Then let’s go!” Scarecrow proclaimed.

“Hold on, can you even walk properly?” Tinman asked him as he held Scarecrow back.

“I’ll adjust as I walk! Now come on we have to go save (y/n)! Toto lead the way!” Toto barked and raced on ahead with the three of them following behind.

The four of them soon began climbing up the rocky mountains with Toto leading on ahead barking at the three of them.  Lion shortly behind, Tinman holding onto Lion’s tail every now and then, and finally Scarecrow in the back.

It was a struggle to scale up the mountain for Tinman and Scarecrow but with the help of Lion, they managed to scale up the narrow cliffside till finally they came before the castle of the Wicked Warlock of the West.

“There it is lads, the castle of the Warlock of the West.” Said Lion.

“(Y/n) is in that god awful place?” Scarecrow said fearfully.

“Oh I hate to think of the poor dear in there. We’ve got to get her out of there.” Tinman wept.

“Don’t you start crying now. We haven’t got the oilcan with us and you’ve been squeaking enough as it is.” Scarecrow warned Tinman. “We’ll get her out, somehow.”

“It won’t be easy though, look down there.” Lion pointed out.  Low and behold down at the main entrance to the castle were the ogre guards of the Warlock. They were donned in military armor of grey and red colors, long spears in their hands and they marched in tune chanting out in rhythm.

“I’ve got a plan to get us in there.” Scarecrow soon said.

“You’ve got a plan?” lion asked.

“Yes. And you’re the secret weapon.” At this lion gawked at the Scarecrow in shock.

“What?! M-m-me-me?”

“Yes you.”

“But my roar’s not strong enough to scare ogres, you know I can’t roar that loud!”

“Please lion, do it for (Y/n).” Tinman pleaded. At hearing her name, lion’s ears went back solemnly as he stared up at the castle.

“Fine. I’ll do it for her.” That being said, the three of them along with Toto scaled down the mountain towards the entrance of the castle.

They stood just above the ogres who were pacing around the gate, making sure to keep low and quiet so that the ogres wouldn’t hear them.  Toto soon started barking but the three of them softly shushed Toto.  Scarecrow who was closest to the little dog, took him in his arms and began to pet him comfortingly.

Scarecrow then began to whisper the plan to Lion who then relayed the message to the Tinman.  However they were unaware of the three ogres that peeked out above them and slowly began to stalk towards them.

As Scarecrow, Lion and Tinman waited to make their move, lion sniffed the air and caught the smell of the ogres.  He turned and tried to warn his companions but they only shushed him, ordering the lion to be quiet less they be spotted.  But it was too late.

The ogres soon pounced on Scarecrow, Tinman and Lion and soon a rumble between the six of them broke out from the mountain’s edge.

Peeking out from the rocks was Tinman wearing one of the ogre guard’s uniforms.  Next up was Scarecrow wearing the same uniform and finally Lion popped his head out wearing a uniform too.  As they watched the guards starting to form a single-file line to return inside the castle, Scarecrow said.

“I’ve got another plan, follow me.” They soon scaled the last foot of the mountain side and soon joined the ogre’s line formation and soon they were finally in the castle as the gates soon closed behind them.  They continued to walk the formation for a few more feet before suddenly retreating up against the walls.

“Okay, now what?” asked Tinman.  Toto then let out a bark as he now stood near the staircase he used to escape.

“There!” Scarecrow pointed and soon the three of them followed behind Toto.

Toto led them up the stairs and across the second floor till he came to a door and began scratching the floor of it barking and whimpering.

“Is this it Toto?” asked Scarecrow.  Toto barked once and Lion confirmed it.

“This is it, I can smell her scent through the doors.”

“Alright let’s break down this door and get her out of here!” Tinman then took out his axe and began chopping away at the wooden door. Chop after chop it broke the wood apart till finally with one good chop, the doors busted open.

“(Y/N)!!” all three of them cried out.  But what they found was the most horrifying sight any of them would ever see.

There was (Y/n) lying motionless on the ground next to the table where the hourglass stood.  The bottom side now filled with sand as the top was now bare.  The bowl where the Warlock had done his spell, the flame had long been extinguished and was now just breathing out smoke.

“No.” Scarecrow muttered as he was the first to run towards her.  Tinman and Lion knelt down beside Scarecrow and Lion pressed his head close to her body hoping to hear a heartbeat. “Is—she can’t be……”

Lion remained silent before he sadly closed his eyes before looking back towards Scarecrow with tears in his eyes.

“No!” Scarecrow took (Y/n) into his arms looking down at her brokenheartedly.  Tears poured down from his face as he embraced the young girl, stroking through her hair and praying that by some miracle that she would just wake up.

But it wasn’t the case.  (Y/n) Gale was gone.

Lion and Tinman joined in the embrace as the two of them wept as well.  Poor Toto whimpered sadly as he rested his head against his mother’s knee, hoping that by sleeping next to her, she would awake.

“We’re sorry we didn’t get here in time.” Scarecrow apologized softly.  As the three of them continued to cry at the loss of their dearest friend, a miracle started to happen.

Toto was the first to notice something happening to his mother.  He let out a whimper before letting out a couple of barks.  From her shirt, a pink and yellow light began to glow.  Scarecrow, Lion and Tinman stared down at (Y/n)’s corpse in surprise.

The light soon shot out and an array of colors began to surround the room.  It was like they were inside a rainbow.  They soon heard the sound of the Fae choir and the Siren singing of the Queens. Through the green light of the rainbow, an illusion of the Spring Fae Queen came forth and she sung out solemnly as she stared down at the young girl.

*Faes*

Where the north wind meets the sea

*Fae Queens*

Ah ah ah ah

*Faes*

There’s a river

*Fae Queens*

Ah ah ah ah

*Faes*

Full of memory

*Spring Fae Queen*

Come, my darling, homeward bound

The three men stared up at the queen of Spring and they pleaded together.

“Save her soul.” That’s when the 3 remaining Seasonal queens came across the room and together the four of them sang the very song they once sang with (Y/n) when they met as the necklace glowed in the respective colors of the Season’s colors.

Green for Spring, Yellow for Summer, Orange for Autumn and Blue for Winter.

As quick as the rainbow light came around the room, it soon faded back into a beam of light and it shot itself right at her heart before disappearing inside of her.

With the final siren call of the Queens, their images disappeared along with the rainbow inside of (Y/n) and the room was once again in silence.

Scarecrow, Tinman, Lion and Toto waited anxiously for something to happen as the necklace was the only thing still glowing until that too ceased.

Then like waking up from a bad dream, (Y/n) let out a gasp and her eyes soon opened.

*My POV*

For the last few moment of life I had, I experienced the worst pain I had ever felt.  It was like something was squeezing my heart tighter and tighter till it finally crumbled and I had closed my eyes to the world.  Then I felt nothing but cold.

It was like—being out in the snow with nothing on, yet it wasn’t physically affecting me.  It was like—I can’t describe it.  But then, I felt this warmth on my cheek.  It was comforting, like being wrapped in your favorite blanket, or being hugged by someone you love.  Soon I came out of the darkness and found myself able to open my eyes.

The first thing I saw was Lion, Scarecrow and Tinman wearing the same armor as those ugly ogre guards that I’ve seen wear. They were all smiling widely and crying tears of happiness.

“You guys came for me.” I said.

“Of course we did. We’ll always be there for you when you need us.” Lion said as he stroked through my hair.  I turned to Tinman and softly chuckled and chastised him as I dabbed his face with my handkerchief.

“You’ll rust yourself silly if you keep crying like this.”

“It will have been worth it. We’re so happy you’re okay!” Tinman proclaimed as he was the first to hug me, followed by Lion, Toto and then Scarecrow.  I felt Toto lick my face frantically as his butt wiggled and he whimpered happily.  After our group hug Lion soon spoke up.

“Quick, we need to get out of here before the Warlock knows we’re here.”

“He’s right. Can you stand (Y/n)?” asked Tinman.

“I think so.” Both he and Lion helped me up but I soon stumbled forward.  Luckily Scarecrow managed to catch me before I fell face forward.

“Seems I’m not the only one with wobbly legs eh?” he teased.  I shook my head at him as he chuckled and helped me stand up. “C’mon there isn’t a second to lose.” They quickly ditched the armored uniforms and we all quickly raced down the stairs.  Scarecrow and I up front followed by Lion and Tinman.

Just before we could escape out the front door, they suddenly closed and a wicked laugh was heard from above.  We turned in horror to see the Warlock of the West now standing on the second floor with the hourglass in his hand, one of his winged monkeys at his side.

“Going so soon? I wouldn’t hear of it. Why my little party’s just beginning.” Lion glared up at the Warlock before getting in front of me and letting out a few low but very threatening roars.

I knew he meant business with those roars because before he moved in front of me, I saw his eyes shift to those haunting amber-colored lion eyes.  His claws slowly came out, his tail whipped around showing his anger (you know when cats get angry and their tails start to twitch or whip around it was like that).

“Please lion, you have no power here. Your roars are nothing compared to my ogres.” Soon pouring out in front of us was the Warlock’s ogre guards.  They all pointed their spears at us, growling angrily before letting out a loud, boisterous roar.  At hearing those roars, Lion tucked himself inward and came back towards me.  

I stroked his back comfortingly as the Warlock laughed and said to his guards.

“That’s right. Don’t hurt them right away. We’ll let them think about it a little first.” He let out his wicked laugh.  He then let out a shriek as he lifted the hourglass over his head before throwing it down to the ground.  A puff of grey and red smoke soon rose from the broken hourglass in front of the ogre army.

Next thing I saw was the large candle chandelier land right on top of half the army.  I turned to see that Scarecrow had the Tinman use his axe to cut the rope that held the chandelier.  While the army was distracted, Scarecrow quickly came and took my hand and we all ran down the hallway.

“SEIZE THEM! SEIZE THEM! Stop them you fools stop them! Seize them! Seize them!  The Warlock proclaimed as he led the chase.  Thankfully the Warlock wasn’t so clever, because Scarecrow had us run behind one of the pillars and hide.

Once the guards were gone, we ran in the opposite direction back up the stairs.  I looked down to see the Warlock and his guards right below us.

“They’re right behind us!” I cried out.

“Come on we gotta move faster!” Scarecrow told Tinman and the Lion.

We soon came to the trail along the bridge outside of the castle.  We quickly raced down the stairs and ran right towards a gazebo-like structure.

“Now which way do we go?” said Tinman.

“This way quick!” Scarecrow said as he grabbed my hand once more and we ran to the right exit point.  We barely got halfway as I let out a scream to see the ogres coming right toward us. “Back! Back this way!” we ran back to where we came out of hoping we could re-group and lose them back in the castle.

Unfortunately the second half of the ogres soon stopped us until finally we were trapped in the gazebo-like building, forced against the wall as the ogres surrounded us with their spears pointed right at us. We soon heard the cackles of the Warlock as he walked down the stairs and mocked out.

“Well, well. Ring-around the Rosie, a pocket full of spears. Thought you’d be pretty foxy didn’t you? Well, the last to go will see the first three go before her. And her mangy little dog too!” All four of us were trembling with fear.  I looked up at Scarecrow who remained close beside me wrapping his arms protectively around me.

The Warlock eyed the two of us before briefly looking up.  He then raised his broom up and I saw him place his broom right next to a burning torch. He lowered his broom back down and said with a malicious grin.

“How about a little fire Scarecrow?” he cackled as he brought his burning broom closer to Scarecrow.  Suddenly his arm got caught on fire.

“AHH! I’M BURNING! I’M BURNING! I’M BURNING! HELP ME I’M BURNING!!” Scarecrow cried out fearfully as he jumped up and down trying to stop himself from burning up.  Frantically I looked around till I saw a bucket of water.  I quickly grabbed it and tried with all my might to keep it steady (it was a full bucket and those things are heavy, trust me).

“Don’t throw that water!” I could hear the Warlock snap at me.  But as I managed to douse the flames on Scarecrow’s arm, I also managed to get some water on the Warlock.

A piercing scream of agony came out of him and as he began to smoke out he cried out.

“YOU CURSED BRAT! LOOK WHAT YOU DONE! I’M MELTING! MELTING! OH what a world what a world! Who would’ve thought a good little girl like you could destroy my handsome wickedness! AHH LOOK OUT! Look out! I’m going!” he let out a few groans as he grew smaller and smaller till there was nothing left of him but his clothes.

We all stared in shock at what just happened. Toto came up to the Warlock’s black clothes and dug at them sniffing around them while the winged monkey came up and let out a hoot.

“He’s—he’s dead. You killed him.” A male ogre spoke to me in shock.

“I didn’t mean to kill him. Really I didn’t. It’s—just my friend was on fire and—”

“Hail to (Y/n). The Wicked Warlock is dead!” the ogre spoke out again, this time in proclamation.

“Hail! All hail to (Y/n)! The Wicked Warlock is dead!” the ogres proclaimed as they all kneeled down on one knee and hand their spears mounted in front of them.

Scarecrow, Tinman, Lion, and I all looked at each other softly smiling at one another.  Oh the broom!

“May we have the broom?” I asked the ogre.

“Please, and take it with you. For you have freed us from the Warlock’s will.” He said as he handed me the broom.

“Oh thank you so much. Now we can go back to the Emerald city and tell the Great Oz the Warlock of the West is dead.” I told the guys excitedly.

“The Wicked Warlock is dead!” the ogres chanted.

[sarahegerton96]

Dean Karny-Birthday Surprise

This is for my one and only @primaba11erina for being amazing even though she lost our little game I'll still give you your imagine, hope you enjoy, sorry if there’s any mistakes I did try wait it as best as I could, love you bub :*

Y/N:

You know those kinds of friends who would do anything for you? The kind that would drop everything to help you out, the ones who support you and empower you?

Those kinds of friends were the stuff of fairy tales in my fucking life. Bitter anger surged in me as I closed the messaging app on my phone again, the light too bright in this dark club. I'd invited a few girls from work to go out and party with me since it was my birthday today, and I'd wanted to do something exciting for once.

When I'd asked them, Sarah, Layla, Jessa and Nikki all had seemed very willing to join me, and I'd filled with warmth at the potential for actual friends. I didn't make them easily; I was shy, reserved, and more than a little awkward. I did better with computers and gadgets than I ever had with people.

But despite their initial excitement, one by one over the last 30 minutes they'd all texted to back out. So there I was, all alone in a loud and unfamiliar club on my 25th birthday.

I never should've even bought this stupid outfit, or bothered with makeup. It was all a waste of time. The thoughts tumbled through my mind, one after the other until it was all I could do to hold back the frustrated tears.

I stood up suddenly from the booth I'd been hiding in, ready to go home and eat my feelings. I stumbled out of the booth on the too-tall heels I'd put on, and regretted the decision to wear them even more now that the floor was rushing up to greet me in what would end up being a very painful and embarrassing collision. I closed my eyes tight and willed it to just be over already, bracing myself for the fall.

I jerked to a stop in midair, and my eyes popped open with surprise. I was hovering above the ground, the floor within reach of my fingertips. It took me a moment to realize that a pair of strong arms were holding me tightly, preventing the inevitable face plant I'd been headed for.

"Don't worry, I got you." The deep, male voice washed over me in a heat wave that I'd never experienced before in my life. The man's arms tightened around my waist before lifting me into an upright position, helping to steady me on my shoes. I watched in fascination as his arms loosened and his hands slid across my stomach to gently smooth my dress down around my hips.

The warmth cascading through my body increased, and the resulting throb in my pussy surprised me. I could feel the heat from his body behind me, and I could tell that he stood well over my average 5'6" height. His hands tightened on my hips and slowly turned me around so that we were now face to face.

I was still looking down, admiring the fit of his pantsuit on his thick legs, the material not able to hide the obvious muscles covered by the expensive material. My eyes began to travel up his body, widening with every inch they gained.

I knew nothing about fashion, but even I could tell that everything this man wore from the tips of his shiny black dress shoes, to the perfectly polished cufflinks winking in the fabric of his dark suit, to the white shirt that emphasized his build, cost him some serious money.

His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, giving me glimpse of skin that I suddenly wanted under my tongue. My eyes stopped there, frozen from all the images swirling through my mind. A chuckle rumbled through him and it was that that broke my stupor. My brain cleared slightly, and I realized with shame that I'd been staring at the man, not even thanking him for helping me.

I finally moved my gaze to his face, and my heart thudded in my chest. I had never in my life seen a more beautiful man. His jaw was strong, covered in a light beard that framed lips women pay good money for. His eyes were emerald green, framed with lashes that rivaled my own. Those eyes and lips captured me not only with their perfection, but with the satisfied pleasure they projected.

He pulled me forward, and suddenly he was sitting in the booth I'd just left with me across his lap. One of my hands splayed over his chest while my other arm snaked around his neck in order to balance myself, not wanting to make a fool of myself all over again.

His scent surrounded me as much as his arms did as he held me tight against him, my curves pressed against the tight muscles of his body. His touch was making my nerves ping in happiness, which surprised me since I usually hated being touched by strangers. My nipples were tightening, my pussy getting wetter by the second, and then he spoke again.

"Do I pass inspection?" I watched his mouth move, his words taking a minute to get through the haze of lust I was thrumming with. I blushed furiously, glad that it was dark in this club and that meant he probably couldn't see. I still tilted my head down, my long blonde curly hair obscuring my face from him.

Immediately, he spoke again. "Don't look away from me baby, I want to see those big blue eyes eating me up like they were before."

The command in his voice had me lifting my head back up before I even knew what was happening. My bottom lip made its way between my teeth, and his gaze narrowed on the movement, his chest rumbling with a sound I couldn't hear, but could feel vibrate through my body.

"Th-thank you. For helping me earlier, I mean." My voice was quiet, but he somehow heard me over the music blaring through the speakers. I was impressed with myself for being able to get the words out in the first place. I was so focused on the way his arms wrapped around my waist and kept me pressed against him that any real thoughts had basically been obliterated.

He moved one hand to brush some hair away from my face, then cupped my cheek gently. I nuzzled into the hand, enjoying the feel of his roughened palm against my soft skin.

"Fuck." I read the word on his lips, and a little pang went through me that I hadn't been able to hear it. An incredibly strong need for the feel of his lips filled me, and I leaned forward. In a move that was nothing like the usual, shy Y/N I was, I plastered my tits against his chest before I placed a light kiss on his mouth.

His arm around my back tightened, and the hand on my cheek slid back onto the nape of my neck, tangling in my thick hair. The move had me gasping, my breath blowing across his lips still touching mine.

What the hell was going on with me? I was not the kind of woman to cuddle up with a stranger. In a club. And then kiss him. I jerked back, struggling to move off him and escape.

"Please, don't go." His words made me freeze, although I couldn't bring myself to look at his face. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes from all the helplessness, loneliness, embarrassment, and anger from today taking over.

"We can go somewhere else, quieter if you want. Or we can stay here where you're surrounded by people. Just don't run away from me."

His words were soft, like he was talking to a cornered, frightened animal. I suppose that was very much what I seemed like right now, since that's how I felt. But the fact that he'd started off with please, and how he was willing to stay here where I was safely surrounded by witnesses, calmed me.

I turned back to take a peek at him, and his eyes were soft, yet burned with something I couldn't name. Just to test his reaction, I move slowly off of his lap. His hands tensed on me for a second, before he let out a reluctant sigh and let me go. I stood in front of him, and a wide smiled filled my face. I liked that he didn't seem to want to let me leave, but would if that's what I really wanted.

I held out a hand and he immediately took it, standing and wrapping his arms around me again. He moved his hands down over my ass and gripped me right below it, where the skin met my thighs. He lifted me up and I instinctively wrapped my arms and legs around him, burying my face into his neck. I felt a shiver go through him when I kissed the side of his neck.

With the smile still across my face, I moved my lips to his ear to whisper to him. "Let's get out of here."

Dean:

The moment she'd walked into my club, I had seen nothing else. I'd been sitting in my office on the upper level and just by chance had gotten up to look down onto the floor of the club I'd opened just over a year ago. It was doing even better than I'd anticipated, but over the last few weeks I'd felt nothing but boredom.

Watching the people dancing and drinking below me, a flash of gold near the front doors had caught my eye. My hands clenched into fists, my body going stiff as a board as my eyes swallowed up the female. Long, curly blonde hair tumbled around her as she made her way slowly across the floor. She stepped carefully in the tall gold heels that encased her feet, a perfect match for the dress that hugged every delicious curve of her body.

Something about the way she moved called to me, and I was heading to the floor before I could even think through what I was planning on doing when I got to her. All I knew was that my heart pounded in my chest, each thump accompanying a resounding mine in my head.

I got to the floor and searched the crowd, wishing I had waited to see where she'd been headed. It was so crowded, I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to find her in the mass. I prowled along the edge of the dance floor, a weird feeling like desperation coming over me as my eyes roved back and forth.

I hadn't felt like this since I was a teen, struggling to find a way to survive. I'd come a long way since then; I owned a chain of clubs that were wildly successful, and had put money towards investments that had paid off handsomely. I hadn't been desperate for anything since landing my first job in high school and I didn't like feeling it now.

I was starting to think I'd gone crazy, seeing someone as perfect as the curvy woman in gold since I couldn't find her now. Just as the disappointment began to set in, that flash of gold caught my eyes once more. I zeroed in on that, pushing not-so-gently through the crowd to reach her.

When I finally broke through, I saw her sitting in a booth in the corner, her phone in her hands and screen lighting up her face. I drew in a sharp breath at the sight of her. I couldn't see as well as I wanted to, but I could see the way the thin straps of her dress pressed into her shoulders, the top of the dress barely able to contain her breasts. I could see the golden tone of her skin. Her plump, pink lips were shaped in a grimace on her face, and my hands twitched to reach out and smooth them for her.

She looked up from her phone and glanced towards the floor, and odd expression of yearning on her face. Her phone lit up in her hand again, and her forehead wrinkled further as she read.

Every iota of my being wanted to go over there and find out what was making her so upset, but I knew that I could be intimidating. I figure that a 6'5" tall man packed with muscle demanding to know what was wrong would more likely scare her than endear her to me.

So instead of going over there and hauling her into my arms, I took a seat at a nearby booth, hidden in the shadows so I could watch her without creeping her out. Over the next half hour I sat there and watched her face go through so many emotions even I was dizzy.

Anger. Frustration. Longing. My body tensed more with each new expression, the need to make her smile a living thing inside me. When I saw her features crumble like she was on the verge of tears, I knew I was done with waiting. I stood up to go over there and I worked on schooling my expression into one of friendliness. When I'd just about reached her booth, she tucked her phone into the small purse dangling off her wrist and stood up. She stepped down from the small rise, and I saw her ankle twist uncomfortably.

I knew she was going to go down, and I crossed the last few steps in a split second to catch her. I managed to get to her just in time, wrapping my arms around her waist and holding her against me.

My cock instantly went hard, the feeling of her ass against my crotch bringing desire roaring to the surface. I grit my teeth in effort to control the impulse to grind against her, and somehow managed. After a moment I was able to pull her up, steadying her on her wickedly spiked heels and turning her around but not letting go of her.

Her perusal of me excited and amused me, and her scent of roses and honey drifted into my nostrils, making me harder than steel. Then sitting her on my lap, watching her fascination with me play over her face, when she turned her face into my hand like she wanted it more than her next breath... I knew that there wasn't anything that was going to keep me from claiming her. Even when I let her pull away, I knew that she wouldn't be getting very far. She didn't know it yet, but she was fucking going to be mine.

I glared at anyone who dared look at us as I carried her across the dance floor, the feeling of her nuzzling my neck making my knees shake. I had to get her alone, before I started fucking her against the nearest wall. I turned the corner that led to the elevator only I had access to and pressed the button for the doors to open.

Just as I stepped into the elevator, her teeth nipped at the sensitive spot where my neck met my shoulder. I let out a sound of pleasure, the small bite nearly undoing me. No women had ever had the same power over me. The doors shut and I pressed her against the wall, a hand going into her hair and pulling her head back so I could get my first good look at her.

Her eyes were blue orbs calling to me, to the man in me who wanted nothing less than to completely possess her. I took in the flush in her cheeks, the way her dress reflected the gold in her skin, making her seem like a stolen ray of sunshine. The warmth radiating off her body and into mine through our clothes only further convinced me she'd escaped from that burning star.

"Who are you?" The question left my mouth in wonder, and her cheeks darkened before she looked away from me.

"No one special," she said with sadness in her voice.

I tugged on her hair sharply, a small gasp leaving her as I forced her to look at me. "Don't ever fucking say that again. I'll spank your ass until it's on fire if you ever say shit about yourself like that."

Her pupils widened at my words, and my instincts told me she liked the idea of my hand on her ass, even though it scared her a little. A small tremble went through her, and I pressed my lips against her cheek.

"Now, try again. Tell me who you are." I pulled away from whispering the words in her ear to watch her face. She swallowed roughly, but answered me.

"My name is Y/N." Her voice was raspy, like she rarely used it, with a hint of an accent. It was music to my ears.

"Y/N," I repeated, loving the feeling of her name in my mouth. The way she licked her lips made me think she liked it too. "My name is Dean."

"Dean," she breathed huskily. "It fits."

I grinned at her and nodded. "So I've been told."

I took a second to insert my key into the lock and finally pressed the button on the elevator to move us up. The ride was short and silent, but I didn't even think about putting her down. I liked having her in my arms, and she didn't protest so I was taking advantage of it.

The elevator stopped and I stepped off, heading towards my office. You could still hear the music and the crowd from up here, but it was muted significantly. Noticing the giant window where I'd been standing when she'd walked into the club, she let out a small gasp.

"That's quite the view," she said.

"I like being able to see what's going on." I walked towards it and set her down gently, her body rubbing against mine the whole way down and torturing me. I turned her towards the window and crowded behind her.

I knew there was no way she couldn't feel my dick pressed against her, but she didn't shy away or tell me to back off, so I pressed just a little closer. I heard a small moan leave her mouth and a satisfied smile filled my face.

"I was standing right here when you walked through those doors." I caressed her sides as I spoke, relishing in the way she leaned back into me, letting me do as I wished. "I haven't seen anything but you since that moment you caught my eye."

She drew in a breath and turned back slightly to look up at me. "That's crazy."

"Maybe. Or maybe I just know what I want when I see it."

Questions filled her eyes, and I knew that she was wondering why I'd focused on her. "I can't tell you all the answers baby, I just know that I feels right to hold you in my arms. There's something about you that hooked me from the very beginning. I can't just ignore that kind of feeling."

Her eyes searched mine, and she must have seen the truth burning there. She reached one hand around and placed it on the back of my neck, drawing me down towards her. As soon as our lips touched, the fire ignited.

In a second we were devouring each other, lips and tongues and teeth battling for a better taste of each other. My hands gripped her tight, the need to consume her overtaking everything.

She twisted slightly in my arms to get a better angle, and I crushed her to my chest. My hands roamed and gripped her ass tightly, grinding her slightly against my cock. She let out a small moan with every pass, and even rocked her hips into mine when I paused.

Pulling away from her mouth, our harsh breaths filled the air. "If you want to stop, you have to tell me now," I said. "I want to see you, taste you everywhere, tease and torture you until you're screaming my name. If that's not something you want, then say the word and I'll let you go."

It hurt to say the words, but I would stop if that's what she wanted. I'd let her go for now, but not forever. I'd give her time and space, but I would be coming after her.

Thankfully, I didn't have to worry about that.

"Please Dean, don't stop." She was shaking slightly, but her words were sure.

"Thank fuck," I said and captured her resulting giggle between our lips.

Kissing Y/N was like a revelation; like a taste of heaven for a fallen angel. A piece of my soul kicked into place the moment I'd touched her, and now it felt like it was going to explode from me.

Groaning, I pulled away again. A mewl of protest left her lips and I softly placed a finger on her lips.

"Hush, beautiful. I'm not going anywhere." I bent down and lifted her again, striding towards the plush couch against the opposite wall. I turned as I reached it, falling back so that I was sitting with her straddling my lap.

Her eyes roamed over my body, and I sat still to let her take it all in. "What's going on in the beautiful head of yours?"

She smiled lightly at my question, biting her lip. "You're so big," she whispered as she ran her hands down my torso.

"You haven't seen anything yet, babe." She flushed at my response, and I curled my hands around her thighs, pulling her closer. The beast inside me howled in pleasure at the way she felt under my hands, at the contrast between her lightly tanned skinned and mine. I could feel the heat between her thighs branding my lap as she instinctively rotated her hips on mine.

Her eyes went heavy, head tilting back when she rubbed against me. My hands on her thighs tightened, and little noises escaped her as she continued to grind on me.

"That's it little girl, take what you need from me. Grind that pussy on my cock like I'm inside you already."

"Oh god, Dean," she said breathlessly as she started to move a little faster.

"If I lifted you from my lap and looked at my pants, would I be able to see just how wet you are for me?" Her cheeks flamed with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal, but it didn't stop her from moving.

"Show me baby girl," I continued. "Let me see how bad you need me."

Y/N:

I could still feel the heat flaming my cheeks, but I wanted nothing more than to show him what he was asking for. I had no idea what alien had taken over my body and mind, and yet I wasn't going to argue with it. I mean, I wanted to get a little crazy for my birthday, and if this wasn't crazy then I had no idea what was.

With a determination that bolstered my nerves, I looked Dean right in the eyes as I leaned back, placing one hand on his thigh behind me. My other hand moved to the hem of my dress, lifting the skirt enough for him to see the white lace panties I had on underneath. I watched his pupils dilate as he took the sight in. He groaned aloud, the sound only making me wetter than before.

I watched as he reached forward and traced the wetness of my panties with one finger, my breaths coming more rapidly at the light touch. I wanted him to rip the panties off so he could touch me for real. I wanted him to claim me, brand me with his touch so that I'd never forget this night.

Not that it'd be easy to forget anyway. After all, I didn't have much experience with boys so it's not like I had anything to overshadow this experience. And by "much experience", I meant none. I hadn't even kissed a boy before tonight. Not for lack of curiosity, but I'd just never met anyone I was interested in enough to go there with. I hoped Dean wasn't able to tell how inexperienced I was; he wasn't complaining though so I was just going to keep going like I knew what I was doing.

"Goddamn Y/N, I can't wait anymore. I need to taste you." Suddenly, I was spinning around, falling against couch cushions and my legs spread wide over his shoulders. I hastily brushed my hair out of my face in time to see him drag my underwear off, a hunger in his eyes that made my insides clench with excitement.

I felt his fingers spread my pussy apart so he could see everything, and another wave of embarrassment flooded me.

"So fucking gorgeous," he breathed out reverently. The tone of his voice instantly calmed me, and in a move that surprised even myself, I reached down with one hand and traced my middle finger over my hard clit.

"Are you going to stare at me all night, or are you going to get a taste?" My voice was sultry, one I'd never heard before. I could hardly believe it was even coming from me.

A wicked laugh burst out from him and caressed my wet pussy. I jerked slightly at the feeling, and he knocked my hand away so he could have full access. Before I could blink, his mouth was on me. My back arched high, a loud cry leaving me at how good it felt.

"Oh my god!" The words were a loud, choked cry. His tongue lapped at my lips, licking up every drop of my wetness and leaving a trail of his own in its wake.

Goosebumps popped up everywhere on my skin, my nipples going diamond hard as his tongue moved up to the hard bud of my clit, flicking it rapidly and driving me to the edge so fast I was shocked.

"Fuck, you're gonna make me come," I moaned out. He pulled away slightly, meeting my hazy eyes for a moment before looking down at my pussy. I felt a finger trace around my pussy hole, the sounds of my wetness hot and thrilling at the same time.

"Feel free to come whenever my little slut," he said lazily. My nails scraped along the fabric of his couch and he bent back down, taking my clit between his lips and sucking on it at the same time as he pushed a finger inside. The combination of the pressure on my clit and the feeling of his finger in me, pressing on a sensitive spot on my inner wall had me climaxing without warning.

I screamed loudly, shaking in full-body spasms as the strongest orgasm of my life consumed me. I never even imagined I could feel like this- I'd read about orgasms like these in books but I figured they were all exaggerated. Holy fuck, had I been wrong.

Dean gently pulled his finger out of me, straightened up and then slowly moved my legs from his shoulders to the couch. I was breathing hard, staring up at him and by the wide grin on his face I could tell I had stars in my eyes.

"You liked that, did you?" His voice was teasing but rough, like he loved making me feel good but barely had a grip on himself.

"I loved it," I said, voice trembling. I sat up, then palmed his erection through his pants. A garbled sound left him as he threw his head back, and he quickly grasped my wrist to stop me from stroking him. I gave him a questioning look, and he shot me a smile.

"It feels too good. I don't plan on coming in my pants."

A thrill of wickedness ran through me. I pulled my hand out of his grip gently before running my hands up his chest.

"Where do you plan on coming, then? My hands? My tits?" I moved my hands to the straps of my dress, pulling them down and baring myself to him. "My mouth?" I moved to the edge of the couch, loving the way his eyes jumped around, trying to decide where to look first. I slid my arms around his neck and pressed my bare chest against his crisp white shirt, thrilling at the feeling. I leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "In my hot, tight, soaking wet pussy?"

A growl ripped out of his chest. Next thing I knew, I was standing on my feet, my dress and panties being ripped off my body in one harsh move. I was standing in front of Dean completely naked while he was still on his knees, still fully dressed. I felt vulnerable, but for some reason I knew I was completely safe with him.

"You want to tease me, little slut?" His hands grasped my hips and slid up my body, until he was cupping my heavy breasts in his large hands. His thumbs brushed my hard nipples, coaxing a moan from me as I stared at him with half-shut eyes. "Just be careful what you ask for."

"I know what I'm asking for," I quipped. "Are you going to give it to me or not?"

A sharp laugh burst out of him, and then he was standing, stripping off his clothes as well. I watched avidly as his smooth, muscled, tanned skin came into my view. I wanted to trace the ridges of his abs with my tongue, follow that little happy trail of hair that begged me to go down.

He unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and then paused. I looked up to his face to see a glint of concern. Stepping forward and covering his hands with my own, I answered the unspoken question.

"Yes, I'm sure." I curled my fingers into the waistband of his slacks, and pulled down. I tilted my head down to get a good look, and I knew my eyes were as big as saucers when I murmured the first thing that came to mind. "Commando, why am I not surprised?"

He didn't answer, letting me look my fill. He was even bigger than he'd felt in my hand for the moment I'd gotten in, and I was a little worried it wouldn't fit. I was a virgin, and I'd never expected cocks to even get this big. He took his cock in his hand and stroked it up and down, and heat pulsed in me at the sight. A little bead of cum leaked out of the tip, and my tongue grazed my lips in desire to taste it.

"Fuck Y/N, you're going to make me come if you keep looking at me like that," Dean grit out.

"That's fine with me," I said in fascination.

"You look at me like you've never seen a cock before," he said as he moved his hand on his cock again like he couldn't help it.

I was hesitant to admit the truth, so I told a little white lie. "Never one this big."

"Jesus," he hissed out. Goosebumps trailed across my skin again at the sound of his voice, knowing he was close to losing control. Wanting to not just push him to the edge, but over it, an idea popped into my head as I glanced at the large window again. I started backing away from him, towards the window as I spoke.

"Can you imagine what it would feel like to fuck me with that big hard cock of yours while I'm pressed up against this window? How hard my nipples would be, tight against that cold glass? How anyone might be able to look up and see you pulling my hair back, my mouth wide open as I screamed your name while you spanked me?"

I knew my cheeks were red as cherries, but I hoped that if he could tell, he thought it was with passion and not from never having spoken out loud like this before. My back hit the glass, and I shivered at the cold.

I watched as he stalked towards me, his skin gleaming like midnight, a fierce look on his face. In that moment I truly felt like I was being stalked by a lion, his gait sure and steady as he came for me. My pussy throbbed in anticipation, and I lazily flicked my nipples just to see the way his jaw tightened. When he reached me, he grasped my shoulders and turned me, pressing my body tight against the glass, a hand in my hair forcing me to look down at the crowds below us. His cock pressed into my ass and I moaned at the feeling, moving my hips back against him.

"Does it make you wet to think that someone will see me fucking you? Does my little slut get off on the idea of being watched?"

"Yes," I gasped out, in tandem with the sting of his teeth nipping at my neck.

"Good. I want you to be wondering who's looking at you, taking in your tits pushed up against this glass, watching you come with my cock deep in your pussy."

The hand not in my hair trailed from my collarbone, going between my tits and moving down my stomach and brushing across the tiny strip of hair on my mound. His finger traced the line, and my hips jerked in response to the sensation.

"I thought I was going to explode when I saw this little path right to where I wanted to be," he commented like we had all the time in the world. I whimpered as his fingers moved lower, playing over my clit, slippery from my earlier orgasm.

He cupped my pussy, then pressed back so that my hips were tilted back, presenting my ass to him. The hand in my hair loosened and traveled down my spine, then palmed both cheeks, one after the other. A split second later, a sharp sound echoed in the room, and I registered the sting a moment later.

"Did you... just spank me?" I turned my head back to him, eyes big but and excited smile on my lips. He studied my face for a beat and then caressed the tender spot on my ass.

"Did you... like it?" He teased me, pausing just like I had, and I bit back the giggle that rose in my throat. I loved that he made me want to laugh just as much as he made me want to plunge myself down on his cock.

"I'm not sure, maybe you should try again."

He shook his head lightly, in amusement, before delivering his next command. "Turn back around, dirty girl, and let's find out."

I turned back to the glass, and as soon as my gaze hit the people below, his hand landed on my other cheek. The pain zinged through me, but was closely followed by sparkles of pleasure, a whole different kind than anything before. A strangled moan left me as I tapped my forehead on the glass, and I felt his dark hum of delight in my bones.

His hand that cupped my pussy moved lower, his two middle fingers pushing between my folds to feel just how wet he'd made me.

"My pretty little Y/N is a very dirty girl, I see." His two fingers teased at my dripping hole, and it was all I could do not to beg him to fuck me with them. I canted my hips back, rubbing against his cock and thrilling at the sound he made when I did. He knew what I was asking for, and he didn't wait long to appease me.

My heart stuttered at the sensation of him pressing those thick digits inside me, the first thing since one uncomfortable attempt with a vibrator. The same burning sting was there, but this time it was overshadowed by the absolutely incredible feeling of having Dean inside me, massaging and tweaking my nipples with the other hand. Every time he moved he hit a spot inside that made me jerk, eyes crossing from the pleasure.

I was completely overwhelmed. Every damn thing from the lingering pain of the spanking, to his cock subtly grinding between my ass cheeks, to his arm around me and fingers in me, his chest pressed tight along my back... I was being bombarded inside and out and I. Fucking. Loved it.

"Please, oh god, Dean," I panted as my thighs began to shake again. I couldn't form the words to beg him to give me what I needed, but he seemed to know what it was anyway.

"That it Y/N, I want you to come for me again. I want to feel this pussy tighten and come all over my hand. You won't get my cock until you give me this first. So come for me little slut, now."

A loud, keening cry flew out of me as I came apart around his fingers. I barely even registered his fingers sliding out, and his cock replacing them.

"Y/N, fuck," I vaguely heard him mutter in my ear as he thrust into my body. Tears gathered in my eyes, a mixture of the intensity and elation that this was actually happening. Although it was slightly painful, I'd expected it to hurt more.

He stilled inside me, and I concentrated on coming back from the high he'd sent me to. The first thing that registered was his lips on my neck, his arms banding me to him around my hips and torso.

He knew when I'd come back, and I felt his small exhalation of relief flutter in my hair.

"Did I hurt you?" His gentle question surprised me, shocked that he'd noticed much less cared. I figured not many guys would have.

"I'm okay," I responded in a raspy voice. "Please Dean, don't stop."

"God, you're fucking perfect. Where the hell did you come from?"

I let out a shaky giggle, my words breathless as he pulled out slowly. "Aren't you glad I came out for my birthday?"

"Fuck baby, it's your birthday?"

"Yeah. Best one ever," I responded. I punctuated the sentence with a loud groan as he pushed his cock right back into me.

"I think birthday girl needs another orgasm. What do you say?"

"Jesus," I groaned. "I'm not sure I can take another one."

He paused inside me, then grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head, palms against the glass. He placed one hand lightly around my neck to hold me in place as he began fucking me in a steady pace. His other hand moved down and started to rub my clit in small circles. To my utter astonishment, I immediately felt another orgasm start to build.

"If I want you to come for me again, that's exactly what you're going to do. Got it, dirty girl?"

"Fuuuuck," was all I could say in response.

Dean:

Y/N was full of surprises. This woman was fucking hot, but she was also an intriguing mixture of shy and bold, with a little sass and humor threaded through her. I wanted nothing more than to be fucking her right now, but in my heart I knew I wasn't going to let this woman go.

Every thrust into her pussy solidified that. Every sound she made, every moan and cry and shout of my name, told me that somewhere inside her she knew it to. Now I just had to get her to admit it to herself.

Speeding up my thrusts, I clenched my teeth hard enough that I wondered if I'd crack one, trying not to come yet. I promised her one more orgasm, and damn it all if I wasn't going to make sure she got it.

After all, she'd given me her virginity. My cock swelled bigger inside her, blood rushing from my brain as that primal thought took over. As soon as I'd thrust into her, I'd known. Something about the way her voice changed, the way her body tensed up, some sixth sense I had for every small iota of her reactions had told me.

I wished she'd told me first so I could've been gentler, but I knew that if that was something she'd wanted she would have told me. I was going to bring it up after this was over, because that's not something I could let go... But for now at least, I was going to settle for proving to her that she hadn't made a mistake with that decision.

"Do you think anyone can see you right now?" I tightened my hand around her throat just enough for her to feel it there, and felt an answering squeeze of her pussy around my dick. I'd figured out that she loved the dirty talk, so I kept at it to make sure she got to that peak one last time.

"I bet if anyone's watching, they wish they were here. Somewhere out there a guy wants to take his cock out and stroke it to the sight of you getting fucked within an inch of your life. A woman's cunt is getting wet, wishing she were you, wishing it was her tits pressed against the glass and my hand around her throat."

She let out a rough snarl at that sentence, clenching her pussy so tight around me that I had to pause, screwing my eyes shut and counting in an effort not to come.

"Never. You're mine, no one else gets to have you." I could hear in her voice that her vehemence surprised her, but she wasn't taking it back. I didn't even try to hide the grin that split my face. I went back to fucking her, even harder than before. I hurried my fingers on her clit, and could feel her walls begin to ripple around me.

"That's right baby. I don't want anyone else. Other girls can watch, other guys can peek, but they'll never get to touch either of us. Because just as much as I'm yours, you're mine little Y/N."

That was all she needed. Like a bomb, she went off. Her scream would've been heard downstairs even over the music if this room wasn't soundproofed. I couldn't stop myself from following directly after her, and I held her tight in my arms as she came around me, my cock pouring its life inside her.

I somehow got us back to the couch, although I was in a haze as I did. I'd never come that damn hard in my life, and I was positive neither had she. I reached down beside the couch to grab my discarded suit jacket and placed it over her, nearly able to cover all of her. She curled into my chest, humming with delight at the warmth.

I pet her head, running my hands through her soft curls, wondering how to bring up what I wanted to say. I let out a big sigh, knowing I would just have to come right out and ask.

"You okay?" She lifted her head from my chest to look at me, concern furrowing her brow.

"I feel fucking amazing," I assured her. She smiled and settled back onto my chest. "Why didn't you tell me you were a virgin?"

Her body froze, and I could practically hear her panicking in her head.

"Umm..."

"Hey, Y/N, Look at me." She slowly tilted her head back to meet my eyes, her face in a full blush. I lifted my head to place a soft kiss on her lips. "I'm not mad. I just... could've been gentler. I didn't want to hurt you."

She shrugged, biting her lip. "Honestly, I was worried you might stop if I said anything. And I didn't want that. It didn't hurt as much as I was expecting, anyway." The corner of her mouth tilted in a grin. "I think the fact that you got me so wet I probably leaked onto your carpet helped a bit."

My cock twitched under her tummy, and a shocked laugh fell from her lips.

"Well when you talk about being that wet, what do you expect? That thing has a one track mind, babe."

She burst into a fit of giggles, burying her face in my chest. My heart expanded, warmth coating me at the sound. I waited until she caught her breath to talk about the one last thing I had on my mind.

"Y/N?"

"Hmm?"

"I meant what I said. I don't think I can ever let you go."

She looked up at me again, a huge grin on her face, happiness obvious. "Good. I don't plan on going anywhere soon."

"Thank fuck," I breathed out.

"In fact," Y/N continued, sitting up on my lap, my jacket curled around her shoulders. I drew in a breath at the sight, my cock beginning to harden again at the simple eroticism. "This birthday girl is in need of a little dessert."

Her eyes zeroed in on my growing cock, and a groan left me when I realized what she meant.

"Ever sucked a cock before, little slut?"

She shook her head, bottom lip caught between her teeth. Her hands moved forward and grasped me, lightly sliding up and down. My head fell back against the arm of the couch, the feeling so damn good.

"Will you teach me, Dean?"

"Oh Y/N," I said, "I'll teach you anything you want to know, and things you didn't know you wanted to learn. This is just the beginning."

Her eyes shined bright with excitement and true happiness. My heart skipped a beat, and I knew this girl was it for me.

"Happy Birthday, my little slut."

THE END

[mocarena]

post of Chu2 rambles and predictions

i realized i actually needed to make this now that S3 is knocking me down with anticipation

blabla this thread is long as heck and incomprehensible so aha good luck if youre actually trying to read thru it. i just wanted a place to write my predictions down to see how right or how utterly wrong i am! whole thing’s under a read more cuz its a lot

spoilers for S2, the RAiSe! manga, and small spoiler for Film Live

Exhibit: Songs

I’m starting off with talking RAS’ songs because they give me a good basis to talk on several things regarding the band & Chu2.

There might be mentions of other songs, but I will focus on 2 in particular.

Takin’ My Heart

Imo, the most important piece in regards to Chu2 and her character.

That is due to Radio Riot #7 having revealed that the song is literally about Chu2’s beliefs/feelings.

It is also written by her in the Bandori canon (as all RAS songs are since she is the producer, but we know for sure with the Radio confirmation & also how the song came out past Season 2 that this is a song written with Chu2’s perspective in mind).

Raychell even said that she once cried singing the song during her own practice time.

Information source: Iviachupichu on Twitter, a faithful translator who often talks about the contents of Radio Riot episodes. Link https://twitter.com/iviachupichu/status/1106469855757164544!

TL of the song taken from http://www.rizuchan.com/bang-dream-cardfight-vanguard-takin-my-heart/ !!

Long falling down again I’m immature, building up lies and distancing myself from others I feel all torn up; I hold my heart Try to fake a smile… hey, my cheeks hurt

Cry… I hide my rusted eyes Cry… I want you to notice Oh, Come here, Please…

Takin’ my heart Does my voice Takin’ my heart Reach you now…? Takin’ my heart I don’t want to vanish pathetically Takin’ my heart Into a sea of loneliness I’ll just keep crying out to you Today, tomorrow, and for a long time after (Without giving up) I hope my feelings reach you…!

^ not the full TL, just a taste of the beginning

Clearly I don’t have to point out how heartfelt that song is, the lyrics speak for themself and aren’t very subtle (which is very much the point since she’s asking for her feelings to be reached after all).

I’m stupidly annoying when it comes to talking about Takin’ My Heart, I absolutely need to emphasize on the fact that these lyrics are Chu2’s honest feelings.

Expect parts of this song to be brought up throughout this a whole lot.

2. UNSTOPPABLE

Now this song has no confirmation on being composed with Chu2 in mind, considering it’s a very early RAS song and has been sung before we even got the reveal of the RAS characters.

However, I believe it DOES hold significance:

-I have no doubts that the introduction of RAS characters together with the band were in mind early on already, due to how early Bushiroad plans things months in advance.

-RIOT, the first RAS original, has very clear tones of it having been written by Chu2 in Bandori canon (a very arrogant sounding song, sure of its music and it almost seems like it’s directed at Yukina). Thus I wouldn’t put it past the production team having formed Chu2’s character around RIOT and UNSTOPPABLE, or they already had her type of character in mind when first composing these songs.

-It’s not far-fetched to say this song might have some ties to Chu2’s feelings since we’ve got the even more blatant song Takin’ My Heart.

I won’t copy paste all of the lyric translations, it’s simply too long, but here are several parts that stick out to me:

———————

The emptiness springs forth like I'm helplessly thirsty

My back droops... I put too much hope in each day

(Hurry up)

「Don't let me down」, I'm always told

(Hurry up)

Cornered, mouth covered, difficulty breathing

I'm caught in a trap

Please indulge in my annoying ramblings

I just won't stop seeking approval every day

Me, I'm my own accomplice,

with a fake me, dance! Dance! (Lullaby)

Doubt and worry stick their tongues out,

pointing at and ridiculing me

Are you enjoying? Are you excited?

Yes? Do you really get it?

Then that's fine

———————

Please ignore my annoying ramblings

I'll just abandon seeking approval every day

———————

My belief of UNSTOPPABLE still having an intended Chu2 connection also lies within the lyrics:

“Please indulge in my annoying ramblings, I just won't stop seeking approval every day”

From what we’ve seen in the anime, Chu2 definitely seems very attention and approval-seeking, specifically when it comes to Yukina.

I will talk about more specific parts of these songs (+ other one-liners from RAS lyrics) within the rest of this big time ramble.

————————————————

Exhibit: Chu2’s Past….?

A big emphasis on the question mark at the end, as we barely know anything about her past. One thing we know is that due to her excellent grades, she is in her first year of high school despite being only 14 & she studies/studied(?) in an international school, explaining her use of English.

However, based on RAS songs + some bits of the anime I can try to theorize on her past. It might be completely wrong, or I might just get it right, who knows, this is just for fun & speculation.

Family Situation

The anime made a point of how luxurious of a building the studio Chu2 works and has band rehearsals in, there’s even a ~50 seconds scene of Tae just staring at the building and the insides of it in awe.

Now whether or not that building entirely belongs to Chu2’s family, or only the studio, or it’s only being rented out, it still is clearly very expensive either way. The studio is often being used after all, too.

What that very glaringly hints at is that Chu2 is wealthy. Well, not Chu2, but moreso her family, who we know virtually nothing of.

Now that could mean that her family situation isn’t of significance at all like how it is with a lot of characters in Bandori. But that could also not be the case, considering that Bushiroad does dip into family stuff with a few characters (Saaya, Ran and Yukina come to mind).

Chu2 is 14 years old, so having her lyrics be based off of feelings regards her family/overall social situation isn’t that far fetched.

I’ll go ahead and say that personally I theorize that this might fall into the tropey category of “Kid of rich parents gets practically anything but barely gets attention from their parents”.

I can easily believe that Bushiroad would want to take a route different from this, but there’s a lot of freedom for theorization and I think going with the common route is a pretty safe bet for a theory.

Unlike Betadori they don’t dip into territory that is too angsty, it seems, but it’s not like they’d need to be blatant about something like that either.

「Don't let me down」, I'm always told

———

Please indulge in my annoying ramblings

I just won't stop seeking approval every day

———

Please ignore my annoying ramblings

I'll just abandon seeking approval every day

^UNSTOPPABLE lyrics

I think it’s important to point out the difference between the last two bits. The lyrics first start out as a plead for listening to her and approving of her achievings, later in the song that part changes to ‘just ignore me please’.

Those lyrics also explain Chu2’s personality pretty well, in my opinion.

Even after being rejected by Yukina she kept trying to get her to watch her band, basically asking for approval from someone whose talent she looks up to.

I also believe that Chu2 might be an unhealthy perfectionist, which seems like a thing that might rise the tension within the band, but more to that later.

————————————————

Exhibit: Chu2 in the Present

The childish child who won’t let herself be a child

Now if that ain’t a mouthful of a title, but hopefully I can explain my thoughts well enough so it’s somewhat understandable.

Chu2 clearly has a bratty personality and throws tantrums when she doesn’t get what she wants, but to me it doesn’t seem as shallow as that.

The official website describes her as a professional who is arrogant at times, but not rude.

Need I remind you that this girl’s just 14?

Here’s what I think:

Chu2 is a child at heart. But she doesn’t want to let that part of hers show too much due to how she wants to be treated: like a professional.

But she’s clearly an excitable child, as it was shown with how excited she got over the studio when she came to talk to Popipa in Arisa’s basement. For that moment she lost herself and probably could’ve gone on for a while Maya-style if Pareo hadn’t reminded her of her “official greeting”.

What I think is that Chu2, due to wanting to be treated with high respect   as a producer, doesn’t want to appear childish, so she holds herself back unless the heat of the moment gets her or she feels like she can express her excitement without it damaging her ‘professional’ manners. Like when she got pumped after a RAS live, for example.

A quote that could be overlooked but might actually have a little bit of relevance if the words were carefully chosen was the following:

“She thinks playing “band” like a bunch of kids is better than being in my group?!”

Tbh this literal child using the phrase ‘like a bunch of kids’ for something like…well, a band of friends being a band, just makes her seem like she wants to take herself incredibly seriously compared to other bands. To show that they’re not “kids” like the others.

In addition to that, she skipped a grade. In an international school. She seems to be really set on providing the best grades and world-changing music to appear worthy without letting herself indulge all that much in living a childhood. I could totally be exaggerating things, but I think it’s not too far-fetched of a thought.

Tantrums

Not a subject I’ll talk long about, but I think there’s things worth pointing out.

She’ll wait until whoever she’s angry at is out of her sight.

With Yukina she started yelling once Roselia was completely gone.

With Otae it’s a bit of a different case. This time she verbally even told her to get out of her sight before letting off steam, though Popipa weren’t completely out of hearing reach either.

2. She looks genuinely distressed.

The purpose of pointing out #2 is that she seems to have deeper reasonings as to why exactly she’s this desperate to have the perfect band/band members. Especially paired with the line of “I finally found what I’ve been looking for…”, she clearly isn’t doing this stuff just for fun and has got some sort of inner turmoil dealing with the fact that things aren’t going her way to which she responds, well, like that.

She’s not entitled to any bands or like anyone else obviously, and she needs to deal with that fact more maturely in the future.

But still, something HAS to be the root of exactly why she feels like this, to finally have found something.

It’s of importance to her, but why…?

I’d throw out the theory of seeking for approval again. She wants the perfect band that could make impact on the world. Maybe she wants the approval of someone (not Yukina, as she’s been searching for a while and clearly already felt this way before even seeing Roselia), probably someone older and personal to her. So I’d bet it on parents again, it IS the easiest answer after all, but who knows. There just seems to be someone (or more) she wants to impress.

Probably related to her bc it seems personal, if not maybe someone else she looks up to.

---------

Exhibit: I wrote all the above way before I’m writing this part

I genuinely haven’t revised the above at this point of time, the 7th of January. So some stuff might be outdated, but I kinda wanna leave it like that, to see what past me has come up with. I vaguely know and have skimmed, but I wanna write more beyond this point now without knowing the details.

Aka I might repeat a lot of things here now!

CHU2 is actually very much in tune with people’s feelings & desires...when they express them through music.

Now I’m pretty sure this is something I haven’t talked about (or at least not much). Chu2 doesn’t strike one as a very empathetic character, as one has seen with how she was still willing to get Otae back into her band, despite Popipa’s deep bond.

But hear me out. This girl actually can understand other’s feelings well, under specific circumstances. And the RAS manga “RAiSe!” proved that.

With each RAS member, it seems like she just knew their desires upon hearing them play. It’s not yet confirmed with Pareo due to Pareo’s 2nd chapter not having been published yet at this point of time, but chapter 1 already leads up to what I think is Chu2 confronting Pareo (online invitation first), and understanding that Pareo holds her true self back.

With Layer she knew she was unhappy- she knew she didn’t want to keep playing support. She knew she didn’t look very happy, especially for someone who played at Budokan. And through that knowledge she was able to persuade her to listen to her music and to imagine what it’d be like in a band together with other members who’d give it their all.

Very much the same with Masking. Masking’s drumming is intense, and she feels like she cannot express herself well outside of drumming. Her desire was to have fun in a band with others on her level, where every member gave it their all on their instruments. Once again, Chu2 was able to convince her to join her band, she let her listen to her track, and Masking did improv drumming on it, in turn also impressing the producer.

Pareo’s desire is to be accepted for who she is. Since she was small she hid her true self that loves cute things, and kept her distance from classmates, pretending to be the perfect student in the eyes of them, her teachers, her parents...and when she first saw Pasupare on TV, she cried due to seeing how much support they got, something she didn’t feel like she received. She found joy in uploading videos of her doing keyboard pasupare covers online without showing her face. The simple prediction here is that Chu2 finds her covers, meets with Pareo in one way or another, and is able to tell that she hides her true self. Somehow she convinces her to change that and embrace her true self, and that she’ll be supported by the band.

RAS songs often are about going against the norm- RIOT for example symbolizes a rebellion. Masking heard the demo song Chu2 gave her, and got the impression that it made one feel like you want to declare war against the world. That it seemed like “that girl” was trying to raise hell itself with her intense music. Even short bits like in DRIVE US CRAZY, one lyric line goes “Never Say Never Crazy”. RAS is a band about expressing your true self. And Chu2 very much could be putting those kinda desires and feelings into these songs.

A little thought here about Chu2 watching Popipa performances on two occasions with very different reactions. When Popipa played a supporting band at Roselia’s self-sponsored live, Chu2 was shown to be very disinterested in them. Whilst Popipa was great, Chu2 might’ve felt the anxiety that Popipa had in them at that point of time and thus had that disinterest. At the Popipa self-sponsored live at the end of S2 however she showed a completely different reaction, dancing happily along to Dreamers Go! and being embarrassed upon Pareo noticing. Maybe at this point she truly felt Popipa’s real confidence, and the bond that they share.

Not to mention she admitted to having felt moved by Popipa later on.

Chu2′s got something big coming. Hopefully in S3. Maybe later on. (Cough RAS in game COUGH)

There’s just a whole lot of signs pointing to that. Especially since Lock, the future RAS guitarist, really is an opposite to Chu2′s own ideals. All Lock wants to do is have fun in a band with anyone at any level of playing instruments, as long as she feels the dokidokis. Chu2 is very profession-oriented. It also has a great potential to be a little bit of a Roselia parallel, since that was the band Chu2 originally wanted to be the producer of. And Roselia had their struggles with the just-pro approach, learning that forming strong friendships within the band very much are beneficial.

A little step towards that I feel is already hinted with the Film Live, in which she appeared backstage with the rest of RAS, bringing flowers together with Pareo.

Even if she is huffy about it and it’s hard to admit for her that she does want to be nice and that she had been in the wrong regards past issues, it’s a step in the right direction.

Chu2 will have great development, and a lot of depth behind her character will be revealed.

[ughseoks-main]

you’re your father’s daughter

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

summary: where peter, your boyfriend of many months, finds out that you’re tony stark’s daughter

requested by anonymous: Can you do a peter parker x reader imagine where they're dating and her dad is tony stark but nobody knows because she uses her mom's last name and lives with her mom and basically doesn't like her dad and then could you make it be like how peter would react to finding out about that

word count: 4.4k

warnings: angst, swearing, daddy issues

a/n: wow this is a lot longer than pretty much all of my oneshots whaaat?? it’s like,, halfway edited kinda?? so like dont judge it too hard lmao. but anyways i hope y’all enjoy & let me know what you think!

You didn’t like Tony Stark.

Sure, he was your dad, but after what he’d done to you and your mom, your dislike for him had grown immensely. You could barely remember living with him; you were so young that only bits and pieces of your life then stuck with you. Most of your memories with him seemed to be happy, yet you couldn’t stand to even hear his name.

Although it was so long ago, you could still remember the day you and your mother left. She was crying, but being so young, you had no idea why. You were too young to understand why you’d moved, but a few years later your mom explained to you that she and Tony both decided it was best for both you and your mom to move away. She never went into detail why, saying it wasn’t her place to tell you, which led you to assume that Tony wanted to live out his playboy lifestyle with nothing holding him back, even if that meant abandoning his daughter in the process. The last time you spoke to your father was the day you moved out all those years ago.

Even after all of that, you still had Tony’s number saved in your phone. It was silly, but you couldn’t make yourself delete it. Somehow, having his number saved kept you connected to that little bit of happiness he gave you in your younger years. The only time he called was on your birthday each year, and you always let it go to voicemail. He’d leave roughly the same message each time, usually saying ‘happy birthday’ and that he loved you.

He never said he missed you.

You’d listen to those voicemails over and over again, each and every replay digging into your soul. Deep, deep down, you knew you missed him, but you’d built up so many walls that the sadness manifested as resentment in your heart. Even hearing his name could make your blood boil; a defense against the cold, prying fingers of loneliness and longing.

Shaking your head to bring yourself back to reality, you realize that you’re sitting in the lunchroom next to your boyfriend, Peter Parker.

“He just treats me like… like his own kid, you know?” he says adoringly, taking another bite of his sandwich, “He always listens to my ideas and encourages creativity and thinking outside the box. Whenever I suggest something, he takes it into consideration instead of waving me off for being just a kid.”

If it were anybody else, you’d try to change the subject or politely leave to do something else. However, neither of those options worked with Peter. Even if you changed the subject, he’d somehow find his way back to Tony; plus, he knew you way too well to tell if you were trying to leave because you were upset. So, you just sucked it up and tried your best to filter out all of the Tony Stark talk. Now, you were sure that if you ever told him about your situation, he’d immediately stop. After all, he would never do anything to hurt you.

However, telling Peter wasn’t a risk you could take.

If anybody ever found out that you were Tony Stark’s daughter, your life would never be the same. People would only befriend you so they could use you, and you would always be compared to him. You wanted to be your own person and make a name for yourself without the help of your famous dad. Critics would most definitely blame your success on your bloodline rather than your brilliant, science-oriented mind, which wasn’t something you wanted to deal with.

“So, I was talking to Mr. Stark,” Peter’s eyes grow wide with excitement, “and he said I could invite my friend to come to the lab with me sometime! I figured with how much you love science and how brilliant you are, you’d have a blast with us. It’s like a scientific playground up there!”

“Uh,” you rub the back of your neck awkwardly, “As much fun as that sounds, I think I’m busy. Maybe another time?”

“But I didn’t even give you a date-”

“It’s just… not a good time right now, Peter,” you emphasize, giving him a look that told him you weren’t budging.

“Oh, that’s okay..” he looked disappointed, which crushed your heart, “It’s too bad. I mean, I honestly think you guys would get along great. You’re actually super similar! Sometimes I think you’re, like, his long lost daughter or something. You know, just the other day he-”

“Peter, can you just- can you just stop?” you snap, unable to listen to any more. Peter didn’t know any better, but you just couldn’t listen to him talk about Tony for a second longer.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” he asked, concern evident in his voice, “You know, you can tell me anything.”

“Just- just forget it, okay? I’m fine, I promise,” you lean over and plant a kiss on his cheek before standing up to go to class, leaving him sitting confused and alone at the lunch table.

Later that afternoon during your free period, you were sketching plans for a new invention when your phone began to buzz on your desk. After throwing an apologetic look the teacher’s way, you slipped out of the classroom before holding the phone up to your ear.

“Peter, I was in class, you know,” you say only half-seriously, smiling a bit.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologizes, “Um, I was just calling to make sure you’re, uh, okay.”

Your smile falls, the events from earlier that day flashing across your mind. In all honesty, you had been preparing for this phone call, so you knew pretty much exactly what you were going to say. It was simple: you weren’t feeling well and you just needed some sleep, that’s all. Before you could speak, however, a familiar voice speaks in the background of the call.

“Who ya talkin’ to, kid?” the muffled voice of Tony Stark poured into your ear, causing you to freeze in place and blurt a quick ‘i’m fine’ to Peter before hitting the end call button as quickly as possible. You take a moment to control your breathing, your heart beating a million times a minute.

________

Frowning at his phone, Peter pulls it away from his ear and turns to Tony.

“What, girl problems?” he smirks at Peter, giving him a soft punch to the shoulder.

“Yeah, uh,” Peter stutters, “It’s- it’s nothing, let’s keep working.”

Peter doesn’t see Tony’s eyes widen when he sees your name glowing on the top of the screen as he sends you a text telling you to meet him at the coffee shop later. A small picture of you making a kissy face accompanies a million yellow hearts and heart eyes decorating your contact name.

Tony clears his throat as Peter turns off his phone, shifting his focus back to the task at hand.

________

The door to the coffee shop makes a light ding as you open it, the fairy lights strung along the windows illuminating your face in the darkness of the night. You scan the room to see Peter sitting nervously at the table in the corner by the window, the table you two always sit at.

“What’s up Pete?” you say nonchalantly as you take a seat, even though you already know what he’s about to ask.

“Is- is there something you’re not telling me?” he asks, cutting straight to the chase as he looks up at you with his wide, brown puppy eyes.

“I wish I could tell you that everything is fine, Peter,” you sigh, “But I just can’t. And as much as I want to tell you why, I can’t.”

“Why?” his voice breaks, your heart breaking along with it, “Why can’t you tell me?”

“I just can’t,” you whisper, voice raw with emotion.

“If we’re in this together, we have to-” he paused and took a deep breath, lowering his voice a bit since people were beginning to stare, “We have to trust each other, Y/N.”

You remain quiet and fiddle with your hands, unable to force the words out of your mouth. After holding them inside for so long, you didn’t know how to let them out. A squeak from Peter’s chair causes you to look up at him, taking in his cold face as he stands up and looks down at you with disappointment.

“Peter, wait-”

“Talk to me when you’re willing to tell me the truth,” he states before walking out the door, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

________

You didn’t know how long you sat at that table before you went home, tears streaming down your face. When you walked into the house, your mom was already in bed, so you quietly snuck into your room and clambered underneath the covers. You didn’t care if you were still fully dressed; you needed to sleep and forget about the events of today for just a little while.

No matter how long you sat there with your eyes closed, sleep never took you away. You were stuck in bed, replaying your conversation with Peter over and over again in your head until you were sick of thinking about it.

“Ughhh,” you groan, sitting up and rubbing your face before murmuring to yourself, “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

Sliding out of bed and into your vans, you tiptoe through your house and close the door gently behind you, not wanting your mom to know you left the house so late. With a quick glance at your phone, you note that it’s nearing 1 am, so Peter would most likely be asleep. Whatever, you think to yourself, pulling your hoodie sleeves down over your hands to protect against the cold as you make your way towards his apartment.

When Peter open the door, it’s clear that he’s been crying, which shatters your heart.

“Couldn’t sleep either?” you try joking, but he doesn’t seem to return the sentiment.

Cracking jokes at a tense time? The Stark in you was really starting to shine through.

“Why are you here?” he replies, his nose and cheeks tinted pink from the amount of tears he had shed, while yours were tinted from the cold.

“Peter, you have to understand that I- I want to tell you everything, but i just can’t,” you try to explain, the desperation clear in your voice.

“I don’t even know what to say, Y/N,” he exasperates, opening and closing his mouth a few times before letting out all the words he’d been trying to find, “I don’t know what’s up with you, but you’ve been so different lately. You’ve pulled away from me ever since I told you about Spiderman and the Stark Internship. I invite you to things, really cool things like working in a lab with Tony Stark, because I care about you and I want to share these experiences with you and you just- just blow me off like it’s nothing to you! I don’t know why you never want to talk about the internship with me or go on visits-”

“BECAUSE HE’S MY DAD, PETER!” you finally yell, not caring if you wake up the neighbors.

“W-what?” he stutters, eyes going wide.

“Because he’s my dad and he left me and I cannot stand to think about him, let alone talk about him, okay? There. That’s the big secret, and now you know it. Are you happy now?” you snap, finally putting your truth out into the open.

Instead of answering, Peter stands there shocked, hurt filling his gaze.

“Pete?” your voice is quiet now, worried you’ll scare him off because of the look in his eyes.

“I think you should go,” his voice is soft, cracking with emotion at the end of his sentence.

“Wait-”

“Go.” his gaze hardens before he shuts the door in your face, sliding down the other side of it as another round of tears spill down his cheeks. He felt so betrayed; how could you ever keep a secret like that from him?

You stand there for a moment, numbness spreading across your whole body. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, but it was definitely the one you feared the most. You didn’t even register that you were walking down the hallway, lost in thought about how Peter would most likely break up with you.

You’re going to lose the person you loved the most.

And you can’t let that happen.

Suddenly, it was like everything was clear again. Before you can take another step down the stairs, you spin on your heel and run back up to Peter’s door, knocking.

And knocking.

And knocking.

“Peter, please let me in,” you plead, leaning your forehead against the door as you continue to knock, wishing that he would just open the door.

With a sigh, you lean back and slide your phone open, going to his contact in your messages. One tap later, you take note of the small dot that reperesents Peter moving quickly across the map.

“Fuck,” you breathe, sliding your phone into your back pocket and running back down the hallway. There was only one place he could be going; the place you never thought you’d return to.

Much to your surprise, you only hesitate for a moment once you’re outside of the tower before running inside and demanding to be let up.

“I need to get upstairs!” you urge, giving the very tired receptionist an exasperated look.

“The tower is closed, Ma’am,” she repeats, annoyance clear in her voice, “You can come back tomorrow during our work hours.”

“Please…” you take a glance at her name tag, “Katy. Please, I need to get up there and talk to Tony.” “If you don’t leave the premises, I’ll have to call security,” she warns, reaching for her phone.

“No!” you reach out towards her and she raises an eyebrow at you, “I mean, please, I’m begging you. Just call Tony and tell him that Y/N Y/L/N is here to see him and he’ll let me up.”

“I’m sure that he’s asleep-”

“I can guarantee that he isn’t,” you pressure, leaning over the counter and giving her the biggest puppy eyes you could muster.

After a few more moments of consideration, she caves, sighing a quick “Alright” before lifting up the phone and speaking quietly into it for a few minutes.

“You’re clear to go,” she gestures to the door, and you catch a small bit of surprise in her voice as she did so. Clearly, she wasn’t expecting Tony to let the random teenage girl from the lobby upstairs.

You walk towards the elevator, heart in your throat as you press the button for the floor that the receptionist told you Tony was on. Each floor you pass makes a small beep, each one elevating your heart rate slightly until the final ding of the elevator rings out.

When the doors open, he’s there.

Tony Stark, the man you hadn’t seen in years.

You stand awkwardly for a moment, frozen in place until finally he coughs and gestures toward the living room, blurting out a quick “Pete’s in there.” Giving him a simple nod, you walk past him and began walking down the hallway, nervous to see Peter because of what he might say to you.

As your nerves begin to build, your pace begins to quicken as well, growing from a casual walk into a full on sprint. After what seems like an eternity of running, you finally slide to a stop in the doorway, trying to catch your breath as Peter’s head jerks up to look at you with red, puffy eyes.

“Peter, I-”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” he falters, looking you straight in the eyes. You can’t hold eye contact with him, so you stare at the ground as he continues, “It was so, so hard to tell you about Spiderman. Did you know that? Did you know how hard that was for me? I trusted you with that huge secret, Y/N, yet you couldn’t tell me something as- as little as this.”

At those words, you jerk your head back up, raising your eyebrows at him. You can tell that he regrets the words as soon as they come out, but you can’t just let it go.

“Woah, woah, woah, Peter,” you feel the anger begin to rise within you, “this is not ‘little.’ Just because it isn’t some sort of secret identity superhero reveal doesn’t mean it isn’t a huge part of me. It’s almost impossible for me to talk about, so for you to say that it’s ‘little’ really fucking hurts.”

“That’s not-” he takes a deep breath, “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean, Peter?” you cross your arms, waiting for an explanation.

“Mr. Stark is one of the most important people in my life. He’s helped me with so much and I don’t know where I would be right now without him. Probably dead, to be honest. At this point, he’s my father figure, you know? And I just can’t believe you kept something like this from me for so long. It hurts that you didn’t trust me with it, especially when I’ve trusted you with so much in my life.”

“You think that this didn’t hurt me too, Peter?” you retort, “You think that keeping this secret from not just everybody, but you, the person I love most, was easy? It was so so fucking hard to hear you talk about him every day, Peter. It was so hard to pretend like I was busy every time you invited me to things or like every time you spoke his name it wasn’t like a knife was being shoved into my chest, because he’s giving you the love he could never find in himself to give me. I understand that he’s your father figure, Peter, but he isn’t mine. I’m so happy that he loves you, but it’s really hard to hear about that when I know that he never loved me.”

You wipe away tears that you didn’t know you’d been shedding until that moment before whispering, “I never meant to hurt you, Peter.”

He was looking down at his shoes, so you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling. All you wanted was for him to say something, anything, in reply. At this point, you were ready for anything he threw at you.

“He talks about you, you know.”

Okay, maybe you weren’t ready for that.

“W-what? I don’t- How do you know that?”

“I-I never knew it was you until now. I always assumed that he just kept his kid a secret from the world for their own sake, which I guess is actually somewhat true,” he swallowed harshly, “I guess your mom keeps him updated on your life because he always talks about how smart and accomplished his kid is. He’d tell me about how they won the science fair when they were only in third grade and were competing against middle schoolers, or how they’d scored a major internship that only five kids were awarded nationwide. I must be pretty thick since I never put the pieces together until now, but Y/N, he does love you. He loves you and he’s so, so proud of you, even if you don’t know it.”

“Then why- why didn’t he ever tell me?” you ask, unable to comprehend everything Peter just told you.

“Because-” he pauses for a moment, thinking, “Because, if you didn’t want anything to do with him, he probably knew that and stayed away because he didn’t want to upset you. At least, I’m assuming that’s why.”

You take a minute to take everything in, reconsidering everything you’ve ever thought about your father. All this time, you might’ve been wrong about him. Looking back on it, you can remember times when your mom would attempt to talk to you about the situation, but you’d always refused, not wanting to even think about him after what he’d done. 

But now? Now, you were willing to listen.

“I’ll be back,” you blurt out before running out of the room, pushing all thoughts about Peter to the back of your mind as you search for the person you need to talk to the most.

When you find him, he’s sitting on the steps of a staircase with his head in his hands, looking rather gloomy.

“Uh, Tony?” you clear your throat awkwardly and Tony looks up at you slowly, not believing his own ears when he hears your soft voice addressing him.

“Oh, hey kid,” he says calmly, attempting to brush off any nervousness, “So, you and Spiderling, huh? I gotta admit, I didn’t see that coming. Didn’t think that kid could love anything more than he loves his homework-”

“Tony,” you tentatively place a hand on his arm for a moment before pulling away, effectively stopping his rambling. While he was talking, you’d managed to make your way up to sit next to him on the stairs. “I-I want you tell me what happened.”

“Well, it all started when I met your mom at a bar-”

You give him a look and he closes his mouth, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“You know what I mean.”

“Why do you want to know?” he asks, genuinely confused as to why you were suddenly open to discussion after so long, “After all these years, why now?”

“Because,” you pause, trying to find the right words, “I think I’ve had the wrong picture in my head my whole life. Why we left, why you never called. All of my assumptions have caused a lot of hurt for so many people in my life, and I just want to know the truth now.”

He nods, taking a deep breath before explaining everything to you. When you were born they kept everything a secret from the press, wanting to give you as normal of a life as possible before you were inevitably discovered. However, the older you got, the harder it was for them to keep you a secret. They could continue to keep you hidden for your entire life, but what kind of life would that be? Limited to the confines of the tower, never allowed to see anyone outside of immediate family. After plenty of long, solemn discussions, your parents decided that it was best for you to move away with your mom. Tony would rather see you grow to your full potential from afar than near him and weighed down by the burden of fame. 

And just like that, everything suddenly makes sense to you. While you knew it would take time to grow back into a father-daughter relationship again, you also knew it was something that you were determined to accomplish someday.

After the conversation dies, you sit quietly with him for a few minutes. As you sink into the comfortable silence, a sudden thought crosses your mind, it’s urgency causing you to jump to your feet.

“Wait- how did you knew Peter and I were dating?” you blurt out, turning to look at the amusement in Tony’s eyes.

“Saw your name on the kid’s phone. It had lots of little heart emojis by it, so I assumed,” he shrugs, smirking slightly.

“Speaking of Peter, I should, uh, probably go back and talk to him,” you begin to walk down the steps, nearly making it to the doorway before Tony yells after you.

“Hey, keep it PG!” he shouts, shooting you a wink when you turn over your shoulder.

Shaking your head, you try to wipe away the smile creeping up on your face as you turn back around and make your way back to the boy you love.

Once back in the living room, you’re surprised to find that Peter is nowhere to be seen. You’re about to pull out your phone and give him a call when suddenly, you’re attacked with a hug from behind, a yelp falling from your mouth.

“Peter!” you laugh, melting into his arms, “You scared me!”

“Mmm,” he mumbles, giving you a tight squeeze before letting go and spinning you around to look you in the eyes, “Where’d you run off to?”

“I, uh, talked to my dad,” you explain, finding it a bit odd to call him Dad after so long.

His gaze softens as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, “And how’d it go?”

“Pretty good, actually,” you admit, a bit surprised yourself by how smoothly it went.

“Listen, I never apologized for earlier,” he says quietly, guilt shining in his eyes, “It was wrong of me to ever say those things-”

“Shh,” you put a finger to his lips, “Yes, you may have said some things you shouldn’t have, but you were rightfully upset and I know you didn’t mean them. I’m sorry for hiding this from you for so long. Even if Tony and I weren’t talking, you still had a right to know about my past, because it’s what makes me who I am today.”

“But-”

“No buts, Peter. We’re both at fault here. Communication is key, and we both kinda failed in that area. We can talk more about this tomorrow if you want, but I’m exhausted and in need of some ice cream. Care to join me?”

Smiling, you grab his hand and try to pull him in the direction of the elevator. Instead, you were jerked backwards, shooting him a glare when you realize that he has planted his feet into the ground to prevent you from going any further.

“Actually, I have a much more efficient way of getting there….” he grins, wrapping his arms around your waist and carrying you over to the balcony outside.

“Peter, oh my god, I am NOT going to do this- AAAAA!” you scream and close your eyes as he jumps over the edge, letting your bodies fall. Your arms wrap tightly around his shoulders as he holds you close, swinging from building to building with ease. (You could’ve sworn you felt him laugh at you.)

Before you knew it, your shrieks of terror turn into shouts of glee as the wind rushes by your face. Peter assumes that you’ve gotten used to the sensation of flying through the air as he takes a quick glance at your now open eyes and wide smile. However, the real reason you’re no longer afraid was because of a single thought that crosses your mind as your hair whips around your face.

Nothing, not even swinging high above the city in the dead of night, was as scary as losing the people you loved most.

taglist (+ a few people i think might enjoy this, feel free to ignore!);

@minnie-marvel @quxntumvandyne @lokis-sunflower-anna @cynicallystiles @laurfangirl424 @misslunala @secondsineternity @peter-prkers @sighspidey @signed-potato @lokiislowkeyhot @highlady-ofthe-summercourt @0captain-marvel0 @delicately-written @thefallenbibliophilequote @tohollandback @buck-ets @newtimewriter @thedaughterofdawn @lltrashll @paradoxparker @propertyofmarvel @sagebrandy-loves-pancakes @flaminghottaquito @marvel-galaxy @moonkissedtom @yoinksholland @futzingclint @lokiismischief @whycantwebefriendz @hedwigthelegend @yellowkenyon97 @casuallytumblingdownthestairs  @yelyahryan @em-aesthe @peter-parker-fyeah @screechingtacoglitter @candycornparker @smexylemony @sleepybesson @hollandroos @spiderboytotherescue @starsholland​ @pumpkinsandparker

[haxballfan-blog]

When You're Sad, Your Skin Is Sad

Correlation doesn't prove causation, but I can't help but notice that both times I’ve lived in my teenage bedroom I’ve felt especially sad. In high school, it was an angry sadness that sought attention. But when I came back to my parents house in March to ride out COVID, the sadness became deep and dull—about everything and nothing. I go to bed dreading the next day like it holds a big test I haven’t studied for. In the morning, I alternately jolt awake while it’s still dark, or tether myself to my comforter well into the workday. I’ve been very privileged in the ways I’ve experienced the past few months, but also very anxious. And actually, the CDC estimates that 40-percent of adults exhibit symptoms of anxiety or depressive disorders as of this past July. (In 2019, that number was 11-percent.) So, yes, I’m crying a lot more than usual; maybe you are too. I’m also breaking out more than usual—and you?

“Yes, stress causes you to break out,” says Dr. Amy Wechsler, who, as one of only a handful of doctors in the US board-certified in both dermatology and psychiatry, is uniquely qualified to answer questions about this kind of stuff—she even wrote the book on it. Dr. Wechsler cites a well-known study done on a college campus during exam week, where researchers found a strong correlation between stress and the severity of acne. “But exam period is like two weeks long, and when the exams go away the breakouts go away. Imagine if you had exam period for five months, you know? That’s like what we’re going through right now.”

According to Dr. Wechsler, the root of stress acne lies in a molecule called cortisol. Cortisol is a hormone that’s pumped out by the body to fight illness, control blood sugar levels, regulate metabolism, and influence memory formation. In general it’s anti-inflammatory, but when you’re stressed, your body responds by producing more cortisol than it would normally as part of the fight-or-flight response meant to keep you alert when you need to be. If that stress is prolonged, and you don’t have the proper coping mechanisms to deal with it, cortisol starts to act very inflammatory.

“Inflammation is the root cause of acne, and eczema, and psoriasis,” says Dr. Wechsler, who also adds that high levels of cortisol over a long period of time will break down collagen, the molecule in your skin that keeps it looking plump. “That’s why when people are really stressed out for a while, they look like they aged overnight.” For a good, obvious example of this phenomenon, take a look at a photo of President Obama in his first year as president compared to his last. Cortisol also weakens your skin’s natural barrier, so you’ll start to experience more transepidermal water loss. Several months of anxiety may leave you with a totally different skin type: even if your skin is normally oily, it will start to dry out and get more sensitive. Dr. Wechsler notes that when your barrier is compromised, your skin is more likely to react to something that normally wouldn’t cause a problem. “That’s when people say things like, ‘I’ve been using the same product forever, they haven’t changed their ingredients, but now I can’t tolerate it.’”

The tricky part about cortisol is that once levels are high, it can be difficult to bring them down on your own. At minimum, you need to make sure you’re getting an adequate amount of sleep each night, which can be difficult when you’re feeling anxious. “Cortisol is at its lowest for everybody during sleep, and healing molecules like beta-endorphins, growth hormones, and oxytocin,” a mood enhancer, “are always at their highest,” says Dr. Wechsler, who compares the molecules’ relationship to a see-saw. If you’re not getting much sleep, you’re not giving the anti-inflammatories a chance to catch up to the cortisol.

During the daytime, you can sort of hack your body chemicals by engaging in activities that directly trigger a release of those happy molecules. Completing your skincare routine floods your brain with dopamine, otherwise known as the “feel-good neurotransmitter.” So would cooking a complicated dinner, or organizing your bedroom, or finishing a book. A workout can help balance too-low endorphins, a fact I always felt was fallacy until I experienced my first runner’s high a few months ago. Not into exercise? Pop on a John Mulaney stand up special—any will do!—for a rush of endorphins you don’t have to sweat for. And to raise your oxytocin levels, turn down the lights and grab your vibrator. Sex drive can lower when you’re depressed, but each time you orgasm your body releases cortisol-lowering, calm-inducing oxytocin.

Of course, these things won’t stop you from feeling anxious, but they might help you feel a little bit better on the day-to-day, and you also may see a difference in your skin. “When people are very anxious, they feel this loss of control over what’s going on in their lives, and normal routines fall by the wayside because they feel unimportant,” Dr. Wechsler explains. “A skincare routine gives you back a little control,” she adds, conceding that, at the very least, 10 minutes of caring for yourself will feel better than reading the news, or scrolling through Instagram.

The absolute easiest, low-effort way to help balance cortisol? For a sad person at least, it’s crying. Scientists aren’t quite sure how or why, but studies show that a good crying session decreases cortisol levels. It was once widely believed that tears were a way to expel excess stress hormones, but now, most researchers think that the benefits of crying have to do with social signaling: just getting out the message that you’re in distress seems to help alleviate some of that distress. And, if you’re crying to somebody, they’re likely to give you a hug, rub your back, or stroke your hair—all triggers for oxytocin.

But while crying is good for the skin internally, it can leave your face feeling… not so great. Which is the reason I called Dr. Wechsler in the first place—I wear my recent crying obviously, and am left frantically icing my face before morning meetings and check-ins with family. Beyond how I look, my post-crying face hurts. My eyes get incredibly puffy, and I often find myself stuck between a rock and a hard place when I cry at night. It happens, without fail, after I do my skincare routine, and I wasn’t sure whether the salty tears left on my skin were further contributing to breakouts. To make my outsides match my insides after a solid catharsis, I wanted to figure out a post-crying best practice—a sad girl beauty routine, if you will.

What I’d learn is that your eyes work overtime to produce tears, which draws an abundance of blood to the surface of your eyelids. If you cry at night, that blood doesn’t have anywhere to go—it pools in your face when you’re lying flat. “If you’re crying during the day and you’re standing up and walking around, gravity will take the swelling from your eyelids, bring it down your face, and flush it out,” adds Dr. Wechsler. For those particularly concerned about morning puffiness, you can stay upright until the swelling subsides, or try Dr. Weschler’s favorite method. “Put a teaspoon in a glass of ice water, let it get really cold, and then take the back of the teaspoon and put it on your eyelid with a little bit of pressure. Both the cold and the pressure really help those blood vessels calm back down,” says Dr. Wechsler, who learned the tip from one of her model patients. Doing that right away will probably help prevent morning puffiness, but if you aren’t feeling up to it, just go to sleep and try to keep your head elevated with an extra pillow. You can always try the spoon trick (and some vertical action) in the morning.

As for the tears themselves, Dr. Wechsler recommends rinsing them off to abate dryness. If you’ve cried within a half hour of doing your skincare routine, you can rinse with a gentle cleanser (or water, if you think another wash will be too drying) and re-apply your skincare products. Otherwise, just rinse and moisturize again.

Remember how I mentioned cortisol is difficult to lower on your own? If you’re experiencing symptoms of anxiety and depression, you might also consider seeking out the help of a trained therapist. While it’s easy to ruminate on how we look on the outside, it’s important to emphasize that this skin issue is indicative of a larger, internal problem. Aside from the auxiliary benefit of helping balance your skin, talking to someone can help alleviate the feelings of loneliness, grief, and uncertainty you might be feeling right now. Therapy for Black Girls, the National Queer & Trans Therapists of Color Network, and Open Path Collective all offer remote therapy options at accessible price points. You might also check out Psychology Today’s list of therapists, which is quite comprehensive—you can filter results by things like specialty, sexuality, and race. If you’re a Black woman, you can also apply for a grant from The Loveland Foundation to subsidize your sessions.

Knowing that my skin is feeling as vulnerable as I am right now, I’ve been taking it easy with my skincare. And the benefit is twofold: nixing breakout treatments lets my skin actually heal, and using fewer products means I’m more likely to actually do my routine (even when I don’t feel like it). I’ve noticed new pimples subsiding after fortifying my compromised skin barrier with products rich in ceramides, natural moisturizing factors, and lipids. I’ve also been chasing opportunities to feel good as often as I can, masked and tiptoeing around the border of my own shrunken comfort zone. Still the breakouts, and the tears, come in waves. But then again, they always have.

[ifeveristoday]

we have always sent children into war

Something I’ve appreciated about Jordie’s writing for the Boom!verse is how consistent she’s been with building on characters and themes - when I think she’s dropped a plot point, it asserts itself in the next issue. While there have definitely been threads that are a little too exposition happy, or heavy-handed attempts at Whedonesque dialogue, on the whole - she understands and sees the earnest heartbeat of the show and infuses her own spin on Sunnydale and its inhabitants. Buffy was a show about human fears and anxieties given form as monsters and curses and a hero’s journey paralleled with a coming of age story.

But it was also a story about a war - the Slayer versus the darkness. Over seven years, Buffy and her friends and family fought and tested their own boundaries and capabilities for darkness and the pursuit of power.

In the Boom!verse, the idea of legacy has been stated from issue one - Buffy has her obvious calling, and Giles has his life long training to be a Watcher, and then Buffy’s watcher. Neither of them is automatically good at it and they’re still figuring what their legacies will ultimately be.

In issue 11, legacy comes back in the form of a conversation between Rose, Kendra and Robin.

Rose is a military brat from a military family - her father and her grandfather both chose it as a career. She shrugs off Kendra’s admiration for her family history by saying that it’s all become second nature and there’s really nothing special about it.

Then she asks Kendra about her father - and Kendra dismisses him as a deadbeat that she doesn’t care about because he didn’t care about her. That she’s discovered there are more important things that concern her - namely her calling as a Slayer.

Robin’s sudden interjection that if there are more important things, why are Rose and Kendra chatting away like besties on a date than - getting to the bottom of the fuckery that’s beset Sunnydale?

Rude, Robin. Also sometimes people just want to live and not dwell on the horrors of life, okay?

It’s also clearly projection: Robin has a loving dad who cares deeply about him - but he also has an apparently long-festering resentment over 1) his mom dying because of her Calling and leaving him, 2) despite ‘Slayer blood running through his veins,’ none of his training matters because the Council didn’t choose him to be a Slayer (is that even possible? #releasethelorejordie) and instead he’s...settled into being a Watcher. His legacy isn’t to follow his mother’s path, and his second nature doesn’t make him ‘special’ enough to do so. So to listen to Rose and Kendra being so casual about their own legacies --- well, it triggers his insecurities, which I’m sure is not helped by the evil toxic masculinity Rage Sweats that have been infecting all the men lately.

Is it a super heavy-handed metaphor for how performative/peer pressured ideals of masculinity is damaging to everyone? and to have the Hellmouth emit evil pheromones causing this a gloss over for real societal problems? 

Probably.

But also TVBuffy fought a literal penis headed monster and Xander ate part of his school mascot while under the influence of a wild hyena spirit and also split into two selves trying to figure out which one was the real him and whatever the fuck the episode Billy was, so I’m going to give Jordie a pass here.

When Kendra calls him out on his overreaction, yet still calling him Mr. Wood (acknowledging her more traditional character and respect for the Council), he loses it completely when she tells him to not go off on his own - it’s dark and also it’s Sunnydale where people die in inexplicable evil-adjacent ways.

He retorts that he doesn’t need a mother and that he doesn’t need you -

hello, Parental issues. It wouldn’t be a Whedonverse adjacent property without someone’s parental issues. Robin is wrong of course - he does need Kendra because he’s her Watcher, and he’s (understandably) mad about his mother.

Rose and Kendra puzzle over Robin’s sudden hulk rage, but go back to figuring out what’s rotten in Sunnydale and how much Buffy’s absence is felt - even though they’re auxiliary Scoobies at this point, Buffy is what brought them together. Kendra brings up the general loneliness of a Slayer - she has to keep her identity secret, she doesn’t generally ask for help re: Life things, and the regimented nature of Slayerhood really makes me think about the similarities to a soldier’s life.

And Rose being a soldier’s child would be the perfect person to empathize with. I don’t have personal experience, but I do have friends who have served in different branches - and when I was living overseas, the country I lived in had mandatory army service for the men. 

I’m not going to get in too deep about the whole troubling military complex that America has and how the business of war built this country or how it preys disproportionately on POC and lower-income people, or how when veterans come back, the services in place for them are lacking and how in general soldiers are good people who believed in the ideals of peace and protection while the realities don’t often match up with the propaganda...but you know. 

Slayers are child soldiers who are sworn to protect a world at large that doesn’t know they exist or what they really do. But it also goes along with the real-world tradition of sending children into war - in the US [currently], you can legally join at 18 without a parent’s permission or 17 with a parent’s permission.

Think about back in history, before 18 was considered a legal adult.

So we have always sent children into war - but Jordie really emphasizes that the Scoobies are children fighting something they don’t really understand, and there are no adults around (hello, Show also did this but also because Adults are not actually people in the 90s) to guide them, which adds to the anxiety.

Giles is all Rage Sweated out, Jenny is probably taking well deserved time for grading papers and chilling with her cat (h/t @jenny-calendar) and it’s up to Xander and Willow, as the OG Scoobies to figure out what to do, now that Buffy’s disappeared.

And oh, her disappearance has taken an emotional and physical toll - Xander’s been patrolling every night, with some assistance from Willow - it doesn’t seem like she’s been doing it nightly though. He’s tired and upset, and Willow’s upset she didn’t get to say goodbye to Buffy and they’re both hurting in their own ways and also not talking about what’s really bothering them, which is only tangentially connected to Buffy’s disappearance.

Willow and Xander’s bond has always been a key element to their characterizations and relationships with others - they’ve been ride or die from childhood, and now that they’re sharing a soul has made this closeness even more significant.

Which means when they fight, it’s to the bone. Xander’s previous issues of feeling lonely and ignored by others - and not being listened to manifests itself against Willow’s need to share and vent, but not actually listen - it gets ugly really fast.

Xander accuses Willow of being selfish and the reason she broke up with Rose is that she couldn’t handle the mundane realities of working hard at a relationship when she had the more exciting side-gig of fighting at Buffy’s side - which Willow angrily denies. Xander then rips into Willow’s need to be praised and liked, and suddenly brings up the possibility that she’s doing this to impress Buffy, which is stupid because she’s not here and also, she won’t ever make the gay love with you -

and Willow calls him out on his need for love and validation, that he falls for any girl who’ll give him ‘the least amount of attention.’

And Xander vamps out - if this is what Willow really thinks, that she’s always seen him something pathetic

which snaps both of them out of their fight.

Xander admits he only goes vampface when he’s really angry and he can’t always control it, but when he is - he feels better. Which is really concerning.

Xander goes on to say when he’s human, the anger has been harder to ignore, that there’s something dark calling to him and it makes him want to hurt Willow - and she confesses that she’s been feeling weird all the time as well.

Is their soul tie working against them? 

And the fact that Xander in vampface feels more comfortable than when he’s being human and more prone to Rage Sweats -- that’s gotta be significant.

Kendra interrupts their heart to heart and tackles Xander to the ground, which leads to a few bits of hilarious misunderstandings, but also the bombshell that Buffy is dead.

According to Robin, a new Slayer is only called when the previous one dies - which means Buffy must have died.

There goes my whole ‘they are a slayer theory’ but I was expecting it to go that way. In an earlier post - or possibly just a conversation with @jenny-calendar, I was thinking out loud that because Buffy has passed into the Hellmouth, she is no longer of the living plane, so she’s considered ‘dead’ aboveground. Obviously, she is not dead no matter what the misleading summaries future comics say, but she is not among the living.

Semantics aside, everyone is fucked up from hearing this - Willow and Xander turn on Robin, insisting he’s wrong and that it’s a sick joke, which causes Robin’s final form: teary-eyed Rage Hulk Hellmouth McGuffin. He says he didn’t ask for any of this, that he’s already lost so much - his mother, Buffy (which seems rather strange considering he was blanking her the whole time after he infiltrated her friend group and there didn’t seem to be any more flirting/sparkage in the lead up to Hellmouth) and more importantly - his chance to be a Slayer.

He’s railing against the fact he’s stuck with a Slayer that doesn’t know what a real vampire is, that there’s nothing special about her - and it’s obvious that even though his words are coming from a dark ugly place, there’s the feeling that Robin feels entitled to his rage and disappointment.

Kendra’s aware something’s gravely wrong with Robin and tells him calmly that she doesn’t want to hurt him but like every villain at the peak of missed-redemption moment, he says he feels perfect. And the last bits of rationality exit his body and he calls on the Evil Bro Squad to surround the Scoobies.

And triggers Xander’s kill switch - apparently the darkness that Xander’s human side was feeling? That’s because his demon soul is tied to the soul that infected all the men of Sunnydale and turned them into misogynistic meat puppets.

Dunn dun dun -- it’s the Hellmother.

Xander pushes back, but he’s disturbed by how strong it feels and what’s keeping him from going completely evil Frat boy?

Kendra tells them they have to fight and they’ll figure out the details later - and they’re doing their last stand in some stunning colored horror-inspired panels and it doesn’t look good for our heroes when....

WHACK.

Anya brains Robin with a croquet mallet like some white-suited queen of hearts and snarks, “Great. Now I have to fight teenagers to save the world again.”

A surprise boss appears - is Anya going to be the final Adult and help the Scoobies out of the mess they’re in?

Did she even really leave? Was that rabbit that was skulking in the grass from earlier issues really her?

Once more, Jordie leaves us on a cliffhanger.

[cherry3point14]

Freaky Friday

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Body switching crack basically, mainly hijinx, overreaction, mentions of feelings.

Word Count: 3886

Prompt: Sam and Dean have switched bodies, which you would have found hysterical if you had known BEFORE you went to your best friend Sam to mope about how felt about dean and how he had no clue.

A/N: Did y’all miss me?! I put out a cry for prompts because I was in a major writing rut and my girl @divadinag hit me up with a ton. Obviously, they’re all fantastic. So this is the first of several fics based off her brilliant brain. P.S please be gentle as I try to remember how to write again.

Ao3 if you prefer.

“The witch is dead why are we still like this? Why’d it only happen when we got back here?” Sam’s tone is more panicked than normal, asking more questions than he’s prone to. Sam normally has the answers. “I don’t know Dean,” Dean’s voice emphasizes the name with the same annoyance Sam normally utters it with, “funnily enough I didn’t ask the witch before we killed him!” “Ok, enough, just, we gotta figure this out, dude. I can’t stay in this body. You’re all gangly.” Dean’s face looks affronted at the accusation, “gangly?” “Yeah,” Sam shakes his arms through the air as if they’re new, “Son of a bitch have you always been this long? It’s unnatural and I don’t like it.” Dean’s face gets this little ghost of a smirk on it that Dean, the one trapped inside of Sam’s body, recognizes, “I thought you’d like the extra length Dean.” “Shut up Sammy. I’ve got plenty of length where it- just shut up ok. We’ve gotta figure this out.” Sam, the one currently residing inside of Dean, clamps a hand on his own shoulder, “guess I, or should I say you, better get reading huh?"

It had been quiet since you got back from dealing with the witch yesterday. The relative calm that hung over the bunker wasn’t unusual at first. It had been a long drive and after you’d all spent ten hours plus in the Impala together the three of you tended to scatter for some alone time. It was just unusual for it to stay quiet for so long. Dean usually crawled out of whatever binge he fell into after a few hours in search of food, and Sam usually preferred the communal comfort of the library to working in his room. But right now you haven’t seen either of them since you got back yesterday morning and their absence is making time tick by achingly slowly. Eventually, you’d even go as far as to say you’re starting to miss them both. However, you are not one to sit around and mope about it. Instead, you decide to take action to curb your loneliness. Sam’s door is a little further from the library than Dean’s which means you walk past it every time you go to see the youngest Winchester. And every single time you stop. Something tight in your stomach makes you pause, stare and imagine. What if you walked in and kissed those lips that you’ve been dreaming of? What if you strode in with all the confidence you normally possess, like he doesn’t phase you, and straddled his lap with absolute certainty? What if you finally admitted to Dean all the dirty things you’ve thought about doing to him? The answer, as your brain was so good at reminding you, was that you would make an idiot of yourself. Dean has never shown even a passing interest in you like that. Your friendship would be ruined to boot and you’d probably have to move out just to be able to live with yourself. But that was, you know, just one of the many worst-case scenarios that eventually got you walking again. You knock when you get to Sam’s room but you never wait for a response before your hand is twisting the handle and you’re sliding inside. Neither of you cares much for privacy around each other, it’s not a luxury you’re afforded on the road in cramped motel rooms so it became a habit back at the bunker too. Or at the very least Sam knows to lock his door when you’re not welcome. Since it’s unlocked you walk in and land unceremoniously on his bed with your limbs spread out like a starfish. He’s sitting at his desk but that probably wouldn’t have made a difference. You’ve fallen on him before and no doubt you’ll do it again at some point. “Y/N?” There’s a confused inflection in how he says your name that you quickly question. “Who else is it going to be? Don’t tell me you have another friend?” You turn your head to the side, smiling at him, waiting for the start of your familiar back and forth, but are met only with this bug-eyed stiffness to his body like he’s still not sure why you’re here. His straight back and frozen expression of fear ends your attempt at a joke as quickly as it began, “you ok? I’m not interrupting anything, right?” “No! Erm...” he cocks his head a little, which makes his hair fall into his face and in turn seems to frustrate him as if he forgot it was there. “No, I was just... reading! Yep. Research. You know how I love me some research.” “Ok” you drag out like he’s a weirdo. Because he is. And the book at his desk isn’t even cracked open so he’s either lying or he doesn’t want you to see what he was reading. You’re guessing it’s the latter but the old, leather-bound book of whatever lore he has a boner for looks uninteresting at first glance. “Anyway, I’m bored. Don’t suppose you’ve found any new cases yet?” “Nah, I’m working on the thing.” He says turning back to the book, opening it this time but holding it at an awkward angle. You can see the front cover but whatever he’s reading inside is well and truly hidden. The unknown project, as well as his shadiness, piques your interest despite the title of the book being some boring, long ass anthology of pagan magic, “what thing?” You’re only watching out of the corner of your eye so as not to seem suspicious but you notice his eyes dart about before he answers, “nothing, it’s just something Sa- me. Something me and Dean are working on.” You’d been about to dig deeper and find out why Sam is being so weird but then he had to go and mention his brother. You fling your arm across your face with all of the dramatics you usually reserve for talking about Dean, “seriously? You couldn’t go ten minutes without mentioning him?” “Hey! What’s wrong with me-my brother?” You roll your eyes under the arm stretched across your face. You know Sam must tune out you out like 50% of the time, you hope he does at least for his own sake. Except for the amount of time you’ve spent lamenting about your unrequited feelings he can’t have completely forgotten, right? “I don’t know why you’re being so weird but please stop.” You huff out a breath and slump your shoulders, “seriously I’d just got him out of my head.” The book slams violently shut in a way Sam never treats books, “nope, that’s it. Now I want to talk about it!” “Really?” Sam had been understanding when you first developed your crush but you were pretty sure the other reason he tuned out your ‘Dean talk’ was because you were talking about his brother. It can’t have been comfortable to listen to. Although now he wants to talk about it? “I mean. Ok, fine. I thought you were sick of me talking about how pretty your brother is but I guess not.” He had swung around and leaned forward on his knees when you first opened your mouth but as soon as you mention Dean being pretty Sam begins choking on his own tongue. “What?” “Calm down bud,” you jump up and clap him on the back before slumping back onto the bed. “I won’t call him pretty again in your presence. Lesson learned. But seriously, I almost told him today. I was five steps from his door. I could have gone in and done it.” You puff your chest out a little, proud of the progress you’re making from being six steps away from admitting the truth. “Told him- you almost told him?” “Yes, you giant dummy. I almost told Dean that I maybe, definitely want to knock boots.” Sam’s mouth is caught in this limbo of half opening and then snapping shut making him look like a defective guppy. There’s no sound is coming out, so you continue, “oh come on. That’s not even the worst thing I’ve ever said to you about him. Remember when I told you about that dream where he spent an entire hour... well I won’t say it again. Last time you couldn’t look at me for days.” If you hadn’t been making yourself laugh with the memory then maybe you’d have noticed how suddenly interested Sam had been in hearing the story again. And maybe you’d have thought it to be a red flag. “How long have you been feeling like this?” . “Eugh. Every time you ask me that and then you tell me to put on my big girl pants and go tell him.” “Why haven’t you? Maybe he would want to know.” He poses a good question and it’s not the first time he’s asked you. It is, however, the first time you’ve been interrupted by the object of your affection running into the room, “dude I think I found something!” Everything stops for too long a second. You stare at Dean, Dean stares at Sam and Sam can’t stop looking at you. It’s all very Days of Our Lives, you just need some dramatic music in the background. If your mind weren’t elsewhere you might wonder why they are being so secretive and climactic. However, you’re too busy praying to any available god or even demigod, that Dean didn’t hear what you’d just been talking about. When Dean finally looks at you he misreads the awkwardness in your face, “oh good, you told her. Listen, I know it’s weird but I think I found something to put us back. It’s not really a reversal of the spell just a detour, kind of.” “What spell? What are you talking about?” As soon as he mentions a spell almost getting caught with your crush fades to nothing. You’re in hunter mode without faltering. Especially so soon after just killing a witch. “The spell the witch cast before he…? Dean didn’t tell you?” His face creases, pouts more like it, in Sam’s direction. Actually, if you had to put a name on it you’d say that he does a classic Sam bitch face. Except it’s Dean doing it at Sam. Before your brain can unpack how wrong that it there’s something else he said that’s sticking in your craw. “No Dean. Since I haven’t seen you all day no, you haven't told me anything. What the hell is going on guys?” You look over at Sam, your trustworthy best friend who normally explains it all. There are no answers though. Sam’s face is blank except for those wide eyes again. Dean steps forward, “Y/N. It’s me, Sam. There’s no easy way to say this but Dean and I, we kind of got switched, this morning actually. We think the witch put a spell on us but maybe time delayed it somehow? We didn’t find any hex bags anyway. But I think I’ve found...” Dean, or Sam anyway, could have started reciting the declaration of independence, in French, backward for how much attention you pay anything else he says. Realization sends a shudder up your spine that turns into a white-hot flush of equal parts embarrassment and fury. You slowly turn back to Sam, well Dean. Dean in Sam’s body. Dean who you just unwittingly admitted your long hidden feelings to. You can feel the intensity of the red staining your cheeks. Somewhere in Dean’s body, Sam is still talking but the real Dean has the decency to make Sam’s face look sheepish at least. In the back of your mind, you joke that he can't pull off Sam’s infamous puppy dog eyes properly. Not that it matters, because you’re about to do the only thing you can do right now. Monsters you can face, demons you can kill, ghosts you can burn but this situation? Yeah, you’re going to run. Dean, or Sam, fucking whatever, falters over whatever he’s saying when he reads the decision on your face. But even half blocking the door he’s no match for your speed, especially not in a new body that he’s not used to. He barely raises his hands in a defensive attempt to ask you what’s wrong when you shake your head and side step him altogether. Three well-placed steps and you’re past him. Then it’s just you and the sound of your pounding feet echoing through the empty corridors of the bunker. All the way to the garage where you take the first set of keys your fingers wrap around, start the engine of an old pickup, and get the hell out of dodge.

If you wanted to be found, like an idiot, you’d have gone to a bar. Or maybe a diner. You know, somewhere they'll obviously look first. You don’t want to be found for a long time. Instead, you stop at a gas station and buy yourself the nicest bottle of whiskey they have along with some random armfuls of snacks. Then you drive to a motel, turn off your phone and curl up in bed, in the fetal position sucking on your drink like a baby’s bottle. They’re going to be beyond pissed that you took off and turned off your phone but maybe you’re beyond pissed that Dean just let you sit there and spill your guts. Everyone can be mad about something. Or maybe you should have gone balls to the wall and told Dean all those months ago. Whatever. There’s lots of blame to go around. What sucks is this could have been funny. Like this could have legitimately been the most hysterical supernatural situation to find yourselves in. You and Dean could have hidden all of Sam’s things in places too high for him to reach, well you’d have watched Dean hide the stuff anyway. And Sam could have taken Dean’s body out for a run or to a make your own salad place. That’s just your initial ideas. Given an hour you’d have a list of pranks ideas for them both. Instead, you’re almost halfway through a fifth of whiskey and two bags of chips deep into your snack pile. Alone. You don’t remember ever feeling the embarrassment on the level you’re experiencing now. It’s agonizing and you're absolutely sure it will never fade. Alcohol only dulls your chagrin as you keep flashing back to using the phrase ‘knock boots’.   You’re close to insanity when there’s a knock at the door. You’re slow to get up and even then you take the time to press your face against the peephole. Your shoulders roll back in annoyance at not being as well hidden as you’d hoped, “no thank you. Do not disturb.” He knocks again and you sigh, stamping your foot in a mini, slightly drunken tantrum. “Y/N, it’s Sam.” Reluctantly you swing the door open and try not to frown at him still wearing his brothers face. While you manage to keep your expression in check you still splutter, “why do you still look like him?” “We haven’t tried the spell yet. We’ve been looking for you since you left.” You still think you were pretty justified in running away but you kinda wish you could talk to Sam right now. Your Sam. “I’m sorry.” The apology tastes of whiskey and potato chips but not of actual regret. “No, you’re not.” He smiles. In your head, you know exactly how that smile would look on Sam’s face. It’d be comforting and friendly, playful even. But on Dean’s lips, the smile reminds you of the fool you’ve made of yourself. You huff and wander back to the bed and your bottle, “you’re right. I’m not. He just sat there and let me tell him! And now he knows. And I can’t talk to you when you look like him. You’re going to have to turn around or something.” Sam shuts the door behind him but makes no attempt to look like anything less than Dean. It’s motly annoying that you didn’t see it earlier. There’s the occasional way he moves that’s so utterly Sam, like the way he shakes his head or the way he carries himself. Now that you think about it there were lots of those clues while you talking to Dean. If you’d have recognized even one then maybe you wouldn’t have opened your big, dumb mouth. “Want to talk about it?" “Absolutely not Deano. Oh sorry, Sam. Right. Sam! It’s so hard to keep track.” You sweep your arm through the air with the bottle hanging precariously from your hand. Alcohol-fuelled sarcasm dripping from your tongue. “Look where talking has got me tonight. I can’t even run away for more than a few hours before you find me, all looking like Dean!” He strides over to you wordlessly and you forget. For all of a second, it’s another daydream. It’s Dean, the actual Dean, coming towards you. It’ll be his hands on you when he reaches you and his lips about to kiss yours. “I think you’ve probably had enough of this.” Sam mothers the bottle away from you, breaking the spell. Even though it’s soulful green eyes that you’ve memorized staring at you, it’s Sam that shines through them, somehow. “I never used to be like this you know. Maybe you don't remember when you first met me. I was a badass. I killed a demon by squeezing his head between my thighs, I mean I exercised him after but the thigh thing really slowed him down. I was cool Sam and I was hot!” He’s moving your snacks from the bed to the table while you ramble on, “both at the same time, huh?” “Yes! Because I wasn’t bogged down with dumb feelings for your dumb brother.” You lay back without being told to. Drunken exhaustion has crept up on you and with the bed now empty you fall into it easily. The mattress is lumpy but not completely uncomfortable. Sam pulls the blanket over you and patronizingly pats you on the head. “Maybe if you’re lucky things will be different in the morning.” He says earning a grumble for treating you like a child. You don’t correct him though. You hope things will be different in the morning. You hope you wake up in a world where today never happened. You close your eyes as Sam lets himself out, Dean being the last thing you really see.

There's no pounding behind your eyes when you peel them open and for that, you'll have to thank Sam at some point. It wouldn't have been the first time you drank yourself to sleep and you were far from tired until he tucked you in and took away the good stuff. Although it was gas station whiskey so, mediocre stuff. Your body drags as you get out of bed like the air is slowing you down. It's a tragic shuffle to the bathroom where limp arms barely find the tiny bottle of mouthwash to banish the day-old whiskey breath. You run your fingers through your hair and give up after the second tangle. The palms of your hands make a small semblance of an effort to flatten the creases from your clothes, but you still look like you slept in the clothes you’re wearing. Eventually, you accept that, yeah, you're going to have to go back like this. They'll both look like stock photo models for the Canadian tourism board and you'll look like the human embodiment of the hair that gets pulled from the shower drain. It will be a fitting return for you after yesterday. Your brain tries to convince you that you should drive straight home. The faster you face the music the faster you can get on with your life. It’s just, then you see the mound of junk food on the table. You try to pretend it's your hunger that makes you sit cross-legged on the end of the bed, salty snacks and candy bars resting in your lap, even if you know it's the fear in your chest making you procrastinate. You're throwing M&M's high into the air while trying to catch them with your mouth when there's a knock at the door. The falling chocolate bounces off of your forehead and lands somewhere on the floor amongst its other fallen brethren that missed the target. Getting off the bed is now a loud affair of creaky mattress springs and crinkled wrappers and you take long enough that your visitor knocks again. "I'm coming, I'm coming." You huff out. You hadn't really paid much attention to the time but for some reason, you're expecting the robust man who rented you the room to be there demanding you leave or pay for another night. It's why, unlike last night, you don't check who's there. Everything seems safer in daylight so you almost lurch the door off its hinges with the force you exert to open it. “Really? Come to drag me back already?” Dean is standing there, well his body anyway, and you're just as frustrated as you had been to see him last night. “Seriously you guys didn’t have time to do the spell yet?” He smirks. It’s enough to know from that alone but he still confirms it for you, “we had time. ‘S all taken care of sweetheart.” Everything is happening too fast to blush or run or slam the door. “What are you…?” He takes a step so that the edge of his boots are almost touching your feet. One hand cups your cheek, his thumb stroking a lazy line back and forth over your skin like he’s admiring art and his other arm wraps around your waist. You’re already breathless. You’re already fucking done. But Dean hasn't even started. He ducks his head at the same time that he lifts your face a little, angling your mouth in his direction. You let out this whisper of a gasp, unable to actually comprehend this series of events as his lips connect with yours. It could all be a dream. You’ve dedicated entire REM cycles to just this moment. The kiss. But in your dreams, he never tastes like coffee as he does now. And dream you never worries about if she still tastes of alcohol. Plus there all those little things you hadn’t thought to imagine. Like the way his arm pulls you into him so you’re halfway into a Hollywood style dip except you’re crushed against him enough to feel his muscles twitch. His lips are fuller somehow, softer but he kisses you more intensely than dream Dean. His tongue chases yours and maps out your mouth for a lifetime. It’s still not enough. When you both somehow telepathically agree to breathe you still don’t want to give him up and you rake his bottom lip through your teeth just because you don’t want to let him go. He laughs at that. The unashamed desperation that you finally let out. “Thought I should wait till I wasn’t in Sam to do that.” “You know, to anyone else, that’d be a really weird thing to say.”

5eva tags: @divadinag @darthdeziewok @fluentinfiction @witch-of-letters @supernatural-teamfreewillpage Dean babes: @thewinchesterchronicles @akshi8278

[tswiftisgay]

my queer perspective and analysis of early TSwift discography 🏳‍🌈

Even though I was not in the south, my community was a lot like Taylor’s country fan base. I’m a bi woman who grew up in a Catholic family, going to Catholic school. My peers and teachers were largely conservative and homophobic. I would like to share my perspective on Taylor’s music and lyrics as I experienced them growing up.

I’ve included dated screenshots from my Facebook. (Please respect my privacy by not sharing these screenshots outside my post.) 

I identified with Taylor’s music beyond any other single artist. Her music was so cathartic for me. That’s not to say I didn’t connect other artists, but many of Taylor’s songs felt very intimate. I posted (cringy) things online about how Taylor was ripping lyrics from my diary.

My comment to a friend below this post emphasizes just how close to home her lyrics hit.

Everyone else said that Taylor Swift wrote like she was inside their heads so I figured everyone else felt the same way as me. But looking back, I likely had a lot more in common with Taylor than the average girl. 

Her songs lean heavily on a sense of longing, uncertainty, and loneliness that I felt every day as someone trying to figure out who I was with few people to talk to openly.  She also returns again and again to what I’m calling “friendship romance.” (This friendship theme is stronger than ever in her recent 1989 and Rep love songs.) We also see the start of a theme of forbidden love that only gets stronger in her later albums.

Let’s explore a few key songs from the Taylor Swift and Fearless albums!

Two caveats:

Liz Rose co-wrote most of the early songs with Taylor. However, she has said on record that she was more of an editor when it came to Taylor and lyrics. 

It’s not my goal to argue who Taylor wrote these songs about, merely to point out the gay feelings and themes in the songs through the lens of my experience. I do link to some other Gaylor analysis of these songs that does reference specific people if you are curious.

Taylor Swift

Tear Drops on My Guitar

I fake a smile so he won't see, What I want, what I need, And everything that we should be

I spent a lot of time listening to my girl friends talking about people they had crushes on. I was oddly possessive/protective of my friends but tried to hide it. That possessiveness came from non-platonic feelings for them even before I acknowledged it. They knew me and understood me. We were so close. I always wanted more of their time and attention and affection.

The only one who's got enough of me to break my heart, He's the song in the car I keep singing, don't know why I do

Because of my attachment, it felt like a betrayal when they turned their attention away from me to a cute boy, even though I knew it wasn’t really. I didn’t understand why this bothered me so much or why I thought about them so much. 

In my experience, the intimacy of female friendship (and thus the need to hide non-platonic feelings) is much stronger (and more painful) than between a guy and a girl.

It’s important that the demo version of this song is gender neutral. Instead of Drew, the song is addressed to “you.” Honestly, that’s really what I heard when I listened to the song anyway. It especially helps explain this line that I really connected to:

And there he you goes so perfectly, The kind of flawless I wish I could be

You can’t tell me this self-reflection of a lovers’ attractiveness is hetero. What straight girl ever looked at a guy and wished she could be as flawless as him? I know I looked at girls I wanted to like me and wished I was as beautiful/cool/perfect as them. I did not feel that way about the guys I was interested in. The only reason that I might feel that way about a guy was if I was enamored with his girlfriend and jealous that she liked him.

I’m Only Me When I’m with You This song describes an incredibly close friendship that is romantic, the most straightforward example of “friendship romance.” You feel everything this other person feels. You feel like you can’t live without them because they matter to you more than anything. I related to this song like crazy and still do.

I don't try to hide my tears My secrets or my deepest fears Through it all nobody gets me like you do

The romantic nature is emphasized in the chorus when Taylor describes trying to convey her feelings for this person. 

I'm only trying To let you know that what I feel is true And I'm only me when I'm with you

Less compelling, but I have to add, knowing everything about you includes knowing you are gay. Sharing that secret created a bond unlike any other. In a community where that was especially taboo, you couldn’t tell just anyone. So anyone who did know was extremely special. (I only told other gays initially and then subsequently fell in love with them because we shared everything.)

The Outside

You saw me there, but never knew That I would give it all up to be A part of this, a part of you

Besides the obvious trope of young queer people feeling different, I always felt like I was on the outside of social circles and cliques of girls I connected with. They tended to be freaked out by how much I liked them or just completely unaware of how much young sweaty-handed me was hanging on their every word. Not being included became extra painful when it was not only a social rejection but a romantic one as well. She writes that she wants to be “a part of this, a part of you,” which implies a romantic interest in addition to the more general social one. This really rang true to young gay me.

Invisible

She's never gonna love you like I want to And you just see right through me but if you only knew me We could be a beautiful, miracle, unbelievable Instead of just invisible

Like shadows in a faded light 

This song again focuses on pining for someone while they long for someone else. Taylor writes “if you only knew me,” but then says “we could be ... instead of just invisible”, implying that they do know each other just not in the way Taylor wants. This feeds back into this theme of unrequited (friendship) love that it so common for young queer women.

She can't see the way your eyes Light up when you smile She'll never notice how you stop and stare Whenever she walks by

This songs also brings in the idea that her (presumably) straight friend is pining after a boy--because who do we usually categorize as unobservant and careless with feelings? Not girls. The song makes a lot more sense with the pronouns switched around. *He can’t see the way your eyes light up, but I can!*

(Taylor even dedicated this song to the gays on Rep tour B-stage.❤)

Fearless

This was the album that I sat up at night listening to over and over again. I think it is extremely gay.

Fearless

On the most basic level, you don’t need to be fearless unless you would otherwise be afraid, as one might be when embracing the gay. One could argue it’s scary to be vulnerable and open yourself up to any new relationship, but she says this is unusual for her. So this song is about something new and different, something that could be scary but is so intoxicating.  This is exactly how I felt about embracing my desire to be with women. (This breathless feeling is also expressed on Jump Then Fall.)

Well you stood there with me in the doorway my hands shake I'm not usually this way but You pull me in and I'm a little more brave It's a first kiss, it's flawless, really something, it's fearless.

She describes having a first kiss, but it’s important to note she has stated her first kiss was when she was a freshman in high school at age 15, long before she was working on the Fearless album. So this was the first kiss of a relationship, or maybe as I’m inclined to believe, her first kiss with another woman.

You Belong with Me

This song again emphasizes that she knows this person better than anyone else and should be with them-- friendship romance anyone? Taylor told the media this was based on a phone call she overheard between her guy friend and his girlfriend, but I have to believe this was an extension of her many previous songs on this theme.

Love Story

Gaylor fans have written so much about this song, which is written partially from Romeo’s perspective about a forbidden romance. She says the love is difficult but real, a sentiment I attached to as a young gay navigating expressing my feelings under the watchful gaze of homophobic adults and teens. 

What I want to add is that it’s so important that she references the sense that this has been building up without words. 

 Is this in my head? I don't know what to think

If she was writing about a more typical relationship, this wouldn’t make sense, but between two closeted young gays, this makes perfect sense. I experienced “relationships” that were unspoken or only referenced in a joking tone, but when it came down to it, there was an acknowledged bond beyond any of our other friendships. We held hands and slept together at sleepovers. If she was upset, she came to me to be held. She was my someone. (And yes, she turned out to be gay, too.) Imagining a day when we both proclaimed our love was so cathartic. 

Forbidden desire is also the main theme of the deluxe version track Untouchable.

Breathe

And we know it's never simple, never easy Never a clean break, no one here to save me You're the only thing I know like the back of my hand

This song is another one of the exceptionally gay and well-discussed Gaylor songs. Taylor again refers to someone she knows better than anyone, similar to the above friendship love theme.

In the song she says goodbye to someone who wasn’t quite her someone--which is very gay. She chooses to sing “feeling like I just lost a friend,” rather than saying she actually just lost a friend. Despite how Colbie Callait described the song--“ it's about having to let someone go and say goodbye to a really good friend”--it’s clear this was more than a platonic bud. This resonated strongly with my unspoken romance experiences and the unspoken “breakups” that followed. 

She references a variety of different reasons for this situation in the verses, none of which are concrete. The gentle “sorry” repetition at the end further complicates our murky understanding of what caused this separation. It reads to me like a meditation on the “maybe” & “later” world of closeted gays and the repercussions that has on their relationships. 

The Way I Loved You

In The Way I Loved You, Taylor compares her current love interest (a guy who is sensible, charming, endearing, and everyone else likes) to her past flame who made her feel everything all at once. (Please see this eloquent lyric analysis from @all-my-possessions for more about this phenomenon of Taylor comparing relationships with vague pronouns in a super queer way.)

Breakin' down and comin' undone It's a roller-coaster kinda rush And I never knew I could feel that much And that's the way I loved you

This song has an easy gay reading but is still strongly relevant for this bi woman. (That is to say, whether gay or bi Taylor might have felt this way. Despite eventually realizing that I was bi, for a while I felt like I was gay simply because liking guys often felt so forced and dull in comparison.) Discovering your affection for women is intoxicating, and actually being involved with one is addictive. If you have repressed your feelings for women then suddenly allow yourself to feel and express it, those feelings come on strong. Any other relationship seems just “comfortable.”

Add in the pressure of hiding as I felt the need to do and a young country musician definitely did, a young gay romance makes for an intense, even explosive, relationship like she describes in this song and references throughout the album (on Tell Me Why, You’re Not Sorry, and The Other Side of the Door).

(x) (x)  suggested further reading

Change

This powerful anthem is about the sense that the world will improve and we will get what we deserve. There were so many “walls” politically and socially preventing gay people from being themselves, especially in a conservative community like mine. When I was exhausted from hiding my feelings, lying, and listening to nasty comments about gay people, I would listen to Change and think about how we would knock those down and be free.  

You can walk away, say we don't need this But there's something in your eyes says we can beat this

These walls that they put up to hold us back will fall down This revolution, the time will come For us to finally win 

It always reminded me strongly of the gay rights and gay marriage movement I read about in the news. With each new setback, activists rallied and came back stronger. 

(Taylor sang  an emotional version of this on Rep tour.)

White Horse

I used to really mourn the loss of the white picket fence life my friends and family all expected for me. I figured as a queer woman that wouldn’t be in the cards for me, especially if/when my community found out and rejected me. (Luckily that has not been the case, but it seemed likely at the time.) 

I'm not a princess, this ain't a fairy tale

This song hit that sore spot, but it also reminded me there was a lot more of the world out there. The opinions of some people were small and easy to leave behind for other dreams.

This is a big world, that was a small town There in my rear view mirror disappearing now And its too late for you and your white horse to catch me now

I’m not the only one who saw a broader homosexual theme to this song.

SuperStar

I didn’t know this song from the platinum version growing up, but the lyrics focus on forbidden love. 👀 

This is wrong but I can't help but feel like There ain't nothing more right babe Misty morning comes again and I can't Help but wish I could see your face And I knew from the first note played I'd be breaking all my rules to see you

I would love to follow up with more from Speak Now and Red, but this post is long enough for now! I spent a lot of time compiling and organizing this. Thank you to @all-my-possessions and @kaydar for inspiring me with super thoughtful queer lyric analysis and to my friend for feedback. I hope this is helpful. I can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

[lizzylunawizardessfanfics]

What It Means To Love

Pairing: Felix/Lizzy

Summary: Curious of if it’s possibly for a peaceful future between humans and dragonkins, Felix brings Lizzy back to the castle in the sky in order to see if it was even possibly to even have trust in one human. There was always something about the human girl that peaked his curiosity as he’d surely soon enough find his answer.

Warning: Angsty 

The boys and myself were walking back to the academy as Zeus had insisted that we go to the store to buy a bunch of food to cook and hang out in the night class to celebrate the weekend. All of us were laughing at Zeus as he was persistent that eggplants were just plants that grew eggs out of the ground. “That’s not what eggplants are Zeus. Haha they’re just a vegetable,” Caesar said as I only continued to laugh as leave it to us to have such ridiculous conversations like this one. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news but they’re actually a berry since they have seeds inside them,” I said as the two just looked at me funny as I only laughed more however I stopped when suddenly right before us Felix appeared in front of us all.

“What are you doing here! We thought you fled to who knows where after we stopped you from collapsing the castle in the sky,” Zeus of course was the first one to shout at the hooded dragonkin as Felix didn’t seem to be paying attention to what Zeus was saying. That was when our eyes met he then pointed towards me before starting to walk in my direction. With a wave of his hand Zeus and the others were knocked away as he continued to head over to me. “H-Hold on what’s the meaning of this anyway, whatever this is about couldn’t we peacefully talk this out,” I said as I quickly stepped back dodging his outstretched hand that seemed to try and grab me. “You, you’re coming with me,” Felix said as I raised an eyebrow confused as to why he needed me as when I reached down to grab a glitter bomb there wasn’t any there, I mentally cringed as I just remembered I used the very few I had to begin with to cheer up a little child that fell and got hurt earlier.

Before I could create more distance between us I was grabbed and next thing I knew I was now over his shoulder as I started to struggle while trying to wiggle myself off. “How many times do I have to say I DON’T like being manhandled,” I shouted especially emphasizing on the don’t part as I started beating my fists against his back. Shortly after before I knew it my surroundings quickly changed as I let out a huff while pushing my hair back out of my face so I could properly see. From what I could see it seemed like we were in the gardens of the castle in the sky. “Will you put me down now please,” I shouted as I pushed myself so I could look over to him though his hood hid his face. Continuing to be silent I felt myself being lifted and settled down as I looked up at him.

“I’m here now, would you care to explain,” I said trying to be talk about the situation calmly since on my own I wouldn’t hold up long against a dragonkin though I really don’t want to fight him. “What did you do to me,” he said as I raised an eyebrow clearly confused as I don’t recall what he’s saying. “I-I don’t know what you mean,” I said as his eyebrows knitted together as he started to look angry as he grabbed my arm a bit too tightly as I tried pulling away as he only pulled me closer staring me in the eyes. “Don’t lie! What did you do,” Felix shouted as I continued to tug against his hold as I winced in pain. “I don’t know what you’re talking about Felix, let me go you’re hurting me,” I shouted back as Felix seemed to snap out of whatever was going through his mind as he quickly released my arm as I proceeded to rub the area with my other hand.

“My… My apologies Lizzy,” he said solemnly as my eyes widened in surprise as that was the first time ever I heard him say my name as for some reason it caused my heart to skip a beat. “You, you said my name,” I said as I continued looking into his green eyes as for the first time I was able to admire the beautiful green color though it was easy to see the loneliness and confliction in his eyes. Shaking my head getting my thoughts together I took a breath before saying, “A-Anyway, you brought me here for a reason and… I want to hear you out.” Felix simply nodded as he started to walk in which I started to follow beside him as I looked around the area as it looked so beautiful and alive with all the green grass and the beautiful growing flowers all around. “After our last encounter it gave me time to… Think about everything you said that day when defending Willem and trying to stop me. Do you still really believe that humans… And dragonkins could ever live peacefully again,” he asked hesitantly as hearing him say it shocked me but also made me smile lightly to hear that he was possibly starting to come around.

“I really do believe so as though I may not have gone through the pain and heartbreak that you’ve experienced, I understand that it isn’t going to be easy to just jump right in and start trusting humans or befriending them again but with time and patience you’ll see that anything is possible and that we’re not the same humans that hurt you and your people a long time ago,” I said looking over to him as Felix just seem to be staring out into the distance as we had momentarily stopped. Between us it was silent as I bit my lip nervously while twirling a lock of my hair waiting for him to say something. “Then prove it to me,” suddenly Felix said as blinking a few times before looking back over to him to see that he was already looking at me as it was more of a gentle gaze than his stern harsh glare. “I’m sorry what,” I instantly said in reply not entirely sure of what he meant by that. “If I can come to trust you, if you can show me that there’s truly a peaceful way of bringing my sisters and brethren back where they don’t have to live in fear of the humans then I will believe it wholeheartedly,” he said explaining what he meant in which I nodded my head in agreement though there was one little question in the back of my head that buzzed around.

“Why me? I mean as honored as I am, why not go to Willem,” I asked as there was a lot of other humans he could of gone to or even his own life long friend but he came to me. “Honestly I’m not all that completely sure myself. There was something about you that caught my attention,” he started to say as he stood in front of me as if analyzing me before reaching a hand out as he softly ran a hand along my cotton candy blue hair as I averted my eyes as it was kind of embarrassing. “Even before waking up to this new world in my dreams you always appeared so gentle as I took that gentleness as weakness, but I could tell by your eyes you were strong and honestly part of that scared me because I thought you’d be like the rest… But I’ve watched you fight, I’ve seen you protect those you care about with no regard of your own safety. That is why I guess I picked you instead of anyone else,” Felix said twirling a small lock of my hair before letting it fall back into place. We continued to walk as he showed me around as that tense air that used to be present whenever he was around was gone as there was a certain comfort about being around him that put me at ease.

~~~ Few Days Later ~~~

I was walking around searching for Lizzy as the sun was slowly setting as there was one spot in the castle she’d most likely be as I was heading to the garden area. These past few days have definitely have been more lively with having Lizzy around as I was still so confused about what it was about her that made me feel this way; anytime I’d look at her I get nervous as I forget what I was going to say, when she looks at me with her baby blue eyes. My heart would feel like it’s going to just explode every time she’d smile as I not really sure what to call this emotion, but there was one thing for sure was that I want to protect her as I can see now what Willem was trying to tell me that day as how could I have been foolish this whole time letting my rage blind me.

I looked out the window ways as in the small distance there she was sitting in a flower field as a horde of minidragons were all nuzzled up to her as it was endearing to see but also I’ve come to have a distaste for it since she focuses her attention on them. “Here as usual, I see,” I said as I held a hand behind my back as there was a flower I wanted to give her. “Oh hello Felix! Of course, how could I not come and visit them all,” she said as just hearing her voice made my heart feel strange. She carefully moved the little dragons before getting up as she was wearing a moderate azure off the shoulder dress as there was intricate silver designs on the front of the dress. “Of course, it’s time we go eat. But I’d like to give you something,” I said as I felt my words get slightly caught up in my throat as she looked at me with curious eyes as undeniably they had to be one of my favorite features about her.

Moving my hand from my back I revealed the daylily I was holding as I saw her eyes widened and smile even more than she was before. “It’s so beautiful, thank you,” she said as I nodded my head as stepped closer while moving my hands as I started to carefully tucked it behind her ear and once I was done I moved her bangs out of her face only to noticed her cheeks turn pink. “T-Thank you again, I really love the daylily,” she said as it brought me joy to hear her say that as I could feel my own face get warm. “You don’t have to thank me, I’m so used to seeing a flower in your hair it suits you. Let us be on our way,” I said as there was something else I wanted to say but withheld it for the time being as we set off to eat as though I did not need to eat but having tasted Lizzy’s cooking has definitely taught me to have a new found love for it. And that’s when it hit me, was everything that I’ve been feeling towards her love, but the only question was could she ever possibly feel the same about me.

Dinner had finally passed as now the two of us were in the room where the clock tower once stood as I had a small idea of how to spend some more time with Lizzy. “Do you dance,” I asked suddenly as I looked over to her in which she seemed to instantly look over to me. “Y-Yeah, though if there’s a specific dance style the dragonkins used to do I have no experience,” she said which I couldn’t help but chuckle a little as I beckoned her over. “We do as those are more for particular ceremonies, other than that waltz is what us dragonkin rather enjoyed dancing,” I said as she walked over to me as I used my magic to summon an old record player as music started to slowly play. Soon Lizzy stood in front of me as she looked up at me as she seemed a little nervous about something. “H-Hey Felix, c-could I ask you something,” she asked as quickly remembering a witty thing she’s said to me once as I nodded with a small grin. “You already did,” I replied with which her eyes went wide for a second before she started to laugh as it carried throughout the room as I could only find it to be music to my ears as I then said, “Please continue with your question dea-Lizzy.”

She looked at me for a moment silent as I’m so relieved that I caught myself before it was too late. “W-Well it’s more of a request as,” she started to say as she seemed to look to the floor as she lightly kicked the floor before continuing with “Y-You always wear your hood and I… I was wondering maybe I could see you without the hood. I-I mean even if it’s only for a moment.” I was actually surprised that she even had such a thought come across her mind though also a big part of me was overjoyed. “Sure; I’ll even allow you to do the honors,” I said as she looked up as though she seemed surprised she was smiling beautiful as now that I know what this feeling is I’d do just about anything to be able to see her smile. Coming a little closer to me with both her hands reaching up I soon felt my hood fall behind me as it felt odd not having it on my head as it exposed my grayish white horns. She had a look of awestruck as though it was kind of embarrassing for her to look at me so carefully I felt my face get warm.

“Even without your hood you look so charming-a-ah I-I’m sorry,” she said as she seemed to panic some before clearing her throat as she quickly said, “L-Let’s dance.” She proceeded to place one hand on my shoulder as I took her free hand into my own as her smaller hand fit perfectly into mine as I securely wrapped an arm around her waist as there was little space between us. Luckily a new song was starting to play as the two of us started to dance together as it was perfect as the more we danced the both of us continued to look at each other smiling as I felt so comfortable; so at home when she’s with me. As we danced I started to open my mouth to say something to Lizzy but suddenly a voice said, “Well what do we have here; fraternizing with the enemy Felix. I’m disappointed; I mean haha I expected something like this from Willem but for you, this is low even for you.”

My eyes widened when in the small distance stood the one person who I only presumed to have still been sealed away. “Stay behind me,” I whispered to Lizzy as I stepped forward to separate her from Lacan. “She isn’t our enemy Lacan, I once thought that too but I’ve come to learn that things are different now,” I said while I watched Lacan only started to walk closer as his footsteps echoed throughout the room as his jet black hair was longer than what it used to be as his three golden yellow color horns that were on the left side were visible while I looked into his piercing amber colored eyes that once used to be full of happiness but only show anger. “Has that was the pretty human girl told you, just because time has passed doesn’t mean anything has changed about humans! She’s just feeding you lies wrapping you around her finger brother,” Lacan said when he came to a stop just a few feet away from us as his words filled me with rage as I glared at him. “Lizzy isn’t lying! She is one of the most genuine humans I have come to meet here and if you’d calm down we could simply discuss-” I said defending Lizzy as I looked from the corner of my eye to check on her as she didn’t seemed afraid but rather calm.

“There’s nothing to ‘simply discuss’ about anything Felix,” Lacan raised his voice as he raised his hand as particles of white and yellow magic. “Let me get rid of that human and we can plan how we destroy the rest of the humans and bring back our people,” he added as I shook my head in a no manner as I stayed where I was. “You’re not going to harm anyone, I fully understand how you felt but destruction isn’t the answer my brother! I’d never steer you wrong,” I said as wished he’d just listen though now I seem to understand how Willem felt when it was the other way around. It seemed that Lacan was done talking as he sent a flurry of attacks as with a wave of my hand I made a barrier to defend us.

“Come to me, Fluffy,” I heard Lizzy’s voice behind me as I looked over my shoulder to see her kneeling as on the floor was a medium sized magical circle was drawn in red as to our left a larger magical circle appeared as it glowed as a light shined briefly and once it died down there was a loud roar as a chimera emerged from the light though there was one thing wrong with it: the beast looked like it had been dead as there was bones sticking out and patches of flesh missing. “Lizzy is that-” I started to ask in shock as she stood back but and cut me off before I could finish my question. “I promise I’ll tell you later but now isn’t the time,” she said as clearly there was more I had to learn about her as this did not change how I felt about her as I nodded my head trusting her.  

Lacan and myself fought as Lizzy’s reanimated beast assisted me until I suddenly I felt myself getting blasted backwards as I landed on my back. “Enough games Felix, stop being such a disgrace and give up,” I heard Lacan shout angrily as I started to slowly get up again until I felt a searing pain in my side causing me to wince in pain as I fell to one knee. “You really have grown soft, that’s what leaded us to be stabbed in the back and if you refuse to help me I’ll do everything myself,” Lacan said as I heard his voice getting closer as I looked up to see him walking closer.

Suddenly something went flying past as an object was airborne as when it hit Lacan it exploded as sparkling partials went everywhere as Lacan growled hunching over rubbing his eyes. “Lacan you maybe not believe us but I’m not going to let you hurt Felix,” I heard Lizzy shouted she stood in front of me. “You foolish girl thinking you could take me on; your stupid parlor tricks are clever, but they are useless,” I heard Lacan said as I tried to get up again only for the pain to ripple through my body again.

“Lizzy run,” I called out to her as I didn’t want her to get hurt, as I she didn’t move from where she was standing as I looked at her back. “I’m not running away and I’m not leaving you here by yourself,” she shouted as she didn’t turn around to look at me. The next series of events happened so quickly I didn’t have the time to mentally process it fully as I came to my senses when I brain registered that it was her who hit the floor as my eyes widened in fear as I was forcing myself to get up as I tried to push through the pain as I didn’t make it far as I only collapsed to my knees again.

I watched as she started to get up to her knees as she yelped in pain when Lacan grabbed a handful of her hair and pull her head back forcefully as I felt my heart drop but my blood boil when I saw her cheek had three cuts as blood seem to trickle. “Lacan stop this,” I shouted as he only seem to let out a sinister chuckle holding up his left hand. “Clearly I can’t; she’s a human and not only that but it seems she’s made you weak,” he said as he raised his hand higher getting ready to strike. “LACAN STOP PLEASE,” I shouted loudly as I couldn’t think of anything else but to plead to my old friend. “I beg of you; just let her go and I’ll do… Whatever you want,” I said as that seemed to stop him as he looked over to me as he looked behind Lizzy and me before releasing her as Lacan made his way over to me while I got a glimpse of Lizzy as she looked at me with worry.

“Oh Felix never did I take for the man to fall in love with a human,” Lacan said as he started to crouch in front of me as he said at a normal volume. “Don’t worry I’ll make sure her death is quick and painless after I’m done with you,” Lacan whispered as my eyes widened when I felt his hands on my horns as the sound of snapping instantly started to cause me to feel weak as I grabbed onto his arm. Everything around me started to shift and get blurry as I fell over onto my side as in the short distance I heard my name being screamed.

~~~ Lizzy’s POV ~~~

I screamed Felix’s name when I watched in horror when Lacan broke Felix’s horns off as he started to stand up letting the broken horns fall to the floor. I ran over quickly as watching Felix’s horns break off and witnessing him fall over made my heart feel like it was ripped out of my chest as I shoved Lacan out of my way before dropping to my knees besides Felix. I carefully moved him so he was laying on his back as I carefully lifted his upper body up and held him up as I looked down. “F-Felix please say something,” I shakily said as it hurt so much to see him look paler than usual as I my tears swelling up.

“Lizzy I’m… Sorry,” he said weakly as I shook my head side to side as I tried to smile. “It’s not your fault, j-just hang in there please; it’s g-gonna be okay,” I said as I was trying so hard to keep my tears in. “Thank you… I wish I could make up for th-the horrible th-things I’ve done… In the past, but… Know that these past f-few days have been the best d-days of my life,” he said as with one hand he placed it softly on the cheek that had the three cuts. “Y-You’ve taught me… The most valuable thing as… This is the worst time to say this but I love you; please forgive me for not saying it sooner,” he said as hearing those words I started to cry as I put my hand over his giving it a gentle squeeze. His eyes fluttered shut as I panicked as I set his hand back down before placing my hand on his face as more tears fell. “No, no, Felix don’t go please,” I said pleading in between sobs as I didn’t want to lose him. “Wake up please, I-I love *hic* you too… Felix don’t leave me,” I continued to talk to him as I rested his head against my chest as I cried.

“In the past I would of been sympathetic, but love is such a weak emotion,” I heard Lacan say as I picked up my head glaring at him. “YOU’RE WRONG,” I shouted loudly as I glared at him when I witness Fluffy come out of nowhere and bite into Lacan’s arm causing him to let out a growl in pain before blasting my chimera off of him. As Lacan was busy in my head an unfamiliar song was playing in my head as despite the emotional pain I was in it only felt right to sing the song out loud. The more I sang there started to be particles of green, light blue, and white encircling around as my eyes widened when I noticed that Felix’s broken horns had disappeared only to start regrowing once again.

“W-What’s happening,” I heard shouting as I finished singing the last of the song of whatever this spell maybe have been while I looked over to see Lacan drop to his knees as his skin complexion started to slowly grow paler in color as one by one Lacan’s horns started to crumble apart as after the largest one on the top disappeared he fell over face first onto the floor. There was only silence in the large room as shortly after looking down and shutting my eyes momentarily I soon heard gasping under me. Opening my eyes again I was greeted with Felix’s beautiful green eyes as that feeling of sorrow was shortly replaced with a feeling of happiness and relief.

“L-Lizzy? What happened,” he asked while I helped him sit up properly as instead of saying a word I threw my arms around his neck as I hugged him though making sure to be careful. “I-I was so scared, I thought I lost you! I-I don’t know what the spell did but… It seemed to save you and regrow your horns; however Lacan’s horns disintegrated at the same time… I’m sorry,” I said as I said everything maybe a little too fast but I was just happy Felix didn’t die. Feeling his arms wrap around me completing the hug put me at ease as I started to finally calm down. “Shh it’s alright it isn’t your fault you didn’t know; everything's okay and thank you for saving me,” I heard him whisper as I relaxed before picked my head up to look at him.

“I love you too,” I said looking at him as his face started to turn red as he looked at me with shock. “W-what,” he seemed to question as if not hearing me correctly as I felt my own face starting to get warm. “Before you blacked out you-you said you loved me and you didn’t hear me the first time s-so I said it again,”I explained as I felt both of his hands carefully cup my face causing my heart to skip a beat. “That actually means the world to me,” he started to say as he smiled at me which I gladly returned. Felix leaned closer to my face as he softly said, “You taught me a lot of things Lizzy, but the most important one was that you taught me what it means to love someone. I promise I will always protect you no matter what.” After such heartwarming words we leaned in sharing a gentle kiss as my heart fluttered at the feeling of his lips pressed against my own. I wasn’t sure of what was to come next but whatever it was we’ll take it one step at a time together as we’ll work towards a future that everyone can all live together peacefully and happily.