#but even before that the more i look back at this friendship the shittier i realize it was like WHO treats people like this

[timeisacephalopod]

That same friend who kept accusing me of writing self inserts (despite the characters only having pretty surface level similarities to me) also rode my ass for AGES about why I'd change my name from my legal name to Winter instead of something that sounds more like my legal name. It was extremely annoying and frustrating to have that conversation like every two weeks until finally I told her I fucking hated my legal name, why the hell would I change my name to something similar to a name I hated??

After that, and only after that she finally left it alone. She also rode my ass about why I use feminine pronouns if I'm nonbinary because shouldn't I be more comfortable with they/them pronouns, which were then shoved onto me despite me saying I'm comfortable with she/her pronouns and I'm realizing this was a fucking garbage friendship. Like I'm not by any stretch claiming to be perfect during all this, but like fucking Christ at least I didn't constantly undermine this friends favorite hobby by claiming they can't write shit but themselves over and over again, insult their name choice, and try and misuse pronouns because she didn't get why I didn't want to switch them (which is no one's damn business by the way don't do this to nonbinary people, it's invasive and fucked up and they don't owe you pronouns that make you more comfortable or that you understand, pronouns people use aren't about you.)

[theemporium]

blurb request for oscar - maybe he gets jealous/possessive and this is the first time you see this side of him

thank you for requesting! and thank you to @scuderiahoney for brainstorming with me since it's partially her fault i am writing oscar again!!🫶🏽

.

It genuinely didn’t bother him at first. Or at least, not that much.

He had noticed it. He would have been fucking blind to not notice it. In fact, he wasn’t the only one to notice it because Lando had brought it up to him. They had been walking through the paddock, making their way back towards the garage after a press conference when he spotted the two of you in the distance. 

“Does it not bother you?” Lando had asked, pausing whatever conversation they had been talking about to nod towards where you were standing. 

Truthfully, Oscar didn’t even need to follow his line of sight to know exactly what he was talking about. But he did anyway, maybe because some twisted part of him liked torturing himself that little bit more when he found you deep in conversation with one of the intern engineers—Oscar vaguely remembers his name being Greg or something along the lines.

“No,” Oscar told him, and it was only partially a lie. “She’s just talking to him.”

“They seem close,” Lando noted, glancing towards his teammate with a knowing look.

“I trust her,” Oscar had replied. And he did trust you. He trusted you irrevocably. He trusted you with his life and his heart. But that didn’t mean something deep in his stomach twisted whenever he saw you laughing away with Greg. 

“It’s not her I think you should worry about,” Lando muttered under his breath, but they had reached the garage by that point and the conversation never continued.

But despite his trust in you, he didn’t trust Greg—not one single fucking bit.

Because it wasn’t just a passing interaction or a budding friendship. It was starting to creep into something more, something so slow and subtle that maybe other people didn’t notice but Oscar fucking did. He noticed it every single time. 

The second he wasn’t by your side, Greg would jump in. The second he had to get in the car or talk to his team, it seemed like Greg had taken it upon himself to keep you company. The second you were in the paddock after not attending a few races, Greg would be greeting you like he hadn’t seen you in years. 

Oscar tried to push down the bitter feelings bubbling in his stomach. You didn’t look uncomfortable or bothered by Greg’s company, and the last thing he wanted to do was come off as some controlling, territorial boyfriend who dictated who you spoke to. If anything, it should have been reassuring to him that you were making friends in the paddock to spend time with when he was busy with the team. 

He just really wished it wasn’t Greg.

Yet, despite his restraint and promise to himself to keep his mouth shut as long as you were happy, Oscar could only be pushed so far before he snapped. 

It was a good race. In fact, it was a great fucking race. After what seemed like a disappointing qualifying that was setting up a shittier race, Oscar hadn’t had high hopes for the weekend. In fact, nobody in the team did—for either car. But it felt like something had just come alive in the car and the second the lights went out, there was a new buzz that had him speeding through the pack. 

It wasn’t a podium weekend, which was always a gutting occurrence. But ending the race in P4 was more than enough for Oscar when the team weren’t even sure if he would make it in the points. He was buzzed, he was on a high and he felt like some of the stress of this weekend had been taken off his shoulders. 

However, when he made his way back to the garage to celebrate with the team and you, he was confused when he was unable to find you the second he got out of the car. That confusion fizzled into something far more bitter and resentful when he noticed Greg huddled beside you, yapping your ear off as you stood there, nodding and smiling. 

He didn’t even realise he was making his way over until he had saddled up beside you, his arm curled around waist like the touch would ease some of the tightness in his chest.

“Sorry, mate, mind if I just steal my girlfriend for a second?” The words had left his mouth, but the usual friendliness was long gone. His words were sharp, blunt even. And he genuinely couldn’t bring himself to care in that moment as he dragged you away before Greg even had the chance to open his mouth, his body working on pure muscle memory to lead you both to his driver room.

It hadn’t even hit him what he had done until the two of you were finally in the privacy of his driver room, the door locked and the rest of the world shut out. 

“Oscar,” you said his name and the tightness in his chest returned.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out before you could even say anything more. “I just…he is always there. He is always fucking there and I just wanted you for myself just once. All I could think about since I crossed that line was hugging you and then I got out the car and I just saw him and—” 

But his rambles died on his tongue when he caught the way you were staring at him, a soft smile playing on your lips. 

“What? Why are you smiling like that?” Oscar questioned, his brows furrowing together. “I just acted like a caveman and you’re smiling.”

“A caveman,” you repeated with a snort, shaking your head before you took a step closer to your boyfriend. “Well, caveman or not, I thought it was kinda hot.”

Oscar blinked. “Huh?”

However, you just shrugged your shoulders. “What? You’re always so calm and collected, it was nice seeing you get a little worked up.”

He watched your expression closely. “So, you’re not mad?”

Your face softened as you reached for the boy, winding your arms around his waist. “I’m not mad, Oscar. If anything, I’m more relieved. He was kinda annoying, like he never shuts up.”

Oscar let out a relieved breath, but his frown remained as he took your face in his hands. “You should have told me if he was bothering you.”

You shrugged again. “It didn’t seem worth the drama,” you admitted. “You should have told me if it upset you.”

“I didn’t wanna seem like a dick,” he confessed with a sheepish expression on his face. He paused for a moment before thinking better of it, pulling you against his chest as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. “I promise I’ll tell you next time if you tell me too.”

“Deal,” you murmured as you sunk into his embrace. You waited a few moments, expecting the boy to pull away but he never did. “You good?”

“Yeah,” he spoke, his breath fanning over the skin of your neck. “Just…makin’ up for the lost time he stole from me.”

You snorted. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” he hummed innocently.

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assured the boy, smiling a little when you felt a soft peck against your neck. “But I would really appreciate it if you could go shower first. You kinda stink.”

Oscar snorted. “Geez. Thanks.”

You grinned. “C’mon, caveman, the quicker you shower, the quicker I’ll hug you again.”

.

[deltaromeo3]

ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴀɴɴᴏʏɪɴɢ ⋆ Lando Norris

pairing: lando norris x teammate!reader

summary: do they really hate each other like they said they do?

requested by: this ask

ツ A/N: should i write a part 2 to this? anyways, i changed it up a little! hope you still like it! let me know if you want to be tagged if theres a part 2? :)

You thought you would get along well with him, but turns out for some damn reason you didn’t. He disliked you and you had no idea why.

You figured you would stop racking your brain on trying to find a reason why he doesn’t seem to like you and just move on with it. So what did you do?

You treated him the way he treated you of course.

★★★

Your rivalry and hate towards each other quickly caught the attention of everyone on the grid, some saying that this rivalry will soon blossom into a friendship, possibly into something more than that.

Your season was going well so far, but you couldn’t say the same for Lando. He had multiple problems with his car and you could just see the frustration bubble up every single time he couldn’t deliver.

If he weren’t so mean and cold to you, you would’ve cheered him up but oh well.

The post race conference were where it hit hardest for him.

One by one, journalists were flaming him, rubbing it to him about the shit year he’s having and the even shittier race he just finished. And he just kept his cool to the shit that was being thrown at him.

You disliked him, sure, but you weren’t heartless.

“Um,” You chimed in to your mic. “I think that’s enough, no? We all understand that Lando didn’t perform as we would like him to, but this shouldn’t be a reason for everyone here to throw all these stupid questions at him. He’s a talented driver and we all know that. It’s just not his year. So, is anyone going to start asking him some real questions? Like how he managed to finish P10 despite having mechanical problems or should I retire and become a journalist instead?”

The crowd laughs at the ending of your sentence. You leaned back in to your seat, not even looking his way. But you knew that he was thankful you said something to stop it… at least you’d hope so.

★★★

Another Sunday quickly came and went. The race was over and this time, Lando managed to finish P3 alongside a Ferrari 1-2. They all went out to celebrate, even inviting you along. You politely decline, deciding to call it a night.

Luckily, the race was in Monaco, so instead of going back to a hotel, you were making your way back home.

It was well into the morning, and you had somehow fallen asleep on your sofa. You awoke to the TV screen displaying “Are you still watching” so you switched it off and headed to the kitchen before making your way to your room.

You were sipping on your drink when you heard your phone ring. Who the fuck is calling at this hour?

It was Charles. Of course.

“Where are you? Amber Lounge?”

This wasn’t a new occurrence. Usually Charles would crash at yours everytime he goes out partying in Monaco. And since he was in no state to drive, you would pick him up every single time.

“Yes! But mon chou-“ He yells. He doesn’t sound that drunk.

You cut him off, “Wait for me. I’ll come get you,” You ended the call.

“She didn’t even let me finish talking…” He looks down at his phone. “Oh this can only go so wrong…” He looks over to the bloke beside him.

You put on a hoodie and took your keys, quickly driving down to the club. As soon as you pulled up, you saw Charles sitting outside. But he wasn’t alone, oh no, he was with Carlos and together they were helping Lando.

You opened your car door, assuming Charles would get in but it was Lando instead. Shocked, you turned over to Charles.

“What’s this!?”

“You didn’t let me finish talking! I was gonna tell you that you’re taking him, not me!” He chinned towards Lando.

You grunt, “You owe me. Big time.”

“Yes yes, I owe you. Have fun. Love you mon chou,”

You rolled your eyes and drove off. Your car was starting to reek of alcohol so you kept the windows down.

“Mon chou,” Lando repeats, giggling to himself. “Charles c-calls you th-that?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up Norris.”

You finally made it to your flat after trying to carry the 68kg driver from the garage to the house. You were mentally swearing to yourself for somehow managing to get into this situation.

As he laid on the sofa, you went to the kitchen to get an Aspirin and a cup of water. Not forgetting a set of fresh clothes for him to change into.

You placed the set of fresh clothes and water by his side, leaving him be.

You only took a few steps when you heard Lando calling out your name.

You turned your back to check on him, realising he had somehow managed to get the hoodie stuck on his head.

You laughed at the stupidity but quickly went to help him.

“Thank you,” He says as he kisses you on the cheek. “You are so nice,”

You went wide eye.

Did he just kiss me on the cheek? Gosh how much did he drink?

“Uh- y-you’re welcome. Now go to sleep kay?” You see him nod. You walked off and he calls you once again. You turned to face him.

“Aren’t you gonna join me?” He says, patting the sofa.

“What? No, no. God no. I’m good, thanks. See you in the morning,”

★★★

The sun was shining through your bedroom, meaning it was time to wake up. You made your way to the kitchen for breakfast after brushing your teeth.

You looked over towards the sofa, and to your surprise, Lando wasn’t sleeping on it. You shrugged it off and went to the kitchen to cook but your eyes were drawn to the plate on the countertop.

“made you breakfast. thank you for yesterday. eat up mon chou!” The note read.

You rolled your eyes. You’ll never hear the end of that nickname and you know it.

Deciding that this was a good enough reason to text Lando, you took out your phone to type. He was finally being nice for once….

Was this the start of the “blossoming romance” like what the other drivers said?

[rlmartian]

Okay so your post about the circlet/band thingies that wukong and Nezha wear? I just had a thought

Okay so we all know that wukong is perfectly fine with and actively promotes himself as a dangerous menace to society, right? Right. And he met Nezha when he was still pretty young, and they eventually became friends because of that mutual reputation of being dangerous menaces to society

So! What if somewhere in their friendship Nezha wanted to stop being seen as a menace or, if you will, a Demon Child. By, oh I don’t know, using the same thing that kept the monkey king’s power in check. Idk tho just a thought. And what if, somewhere in that plan, Wukong found out and tried to make that not happen, in wukongs own special way of course (badly), resulting in Nezhas dislike of Wukong today!

I AM A GENIUS AND A SCHOLAR

ok but why is this actually genius. Because of course Nezha would do that he’s such a self sacrificing idiot. In other media like Nezha(birth of the demon child) he’s openly portrayed as a menace. Why isn’t he a menace now? One he probably got tired of the bad reputation, and his rep was probably even shittier becuse of his association with wukong. This in turn probably planted the seeds of resentment and frustration towards wukong in Nezha’s view. And then Nezha like the self sacrificing idiot he is tries to use the objects that controlled the great monkey king to prove his controlled and not a menace. And everyone in the celestial realm are kind of assholes so they either don’t bother to help or encourage him telling him it’s a difficult but wise decision to make. And eventually wu kong hears about this but doesn’t get the full story. He bursts in just as they finish and attacks the people there people nezha considers tentative friends and they run away. Wukong rushes in panicking trying to get the bands off acting like he’s worried and nezha blows up(maybe literally with fire). For all he knows wukong just attacked him and his friends probably ruining some of the only relationships he’s had in the celestial realm and sullying the reputation further. Wukong thinks he’s saving Nezha and Nezha things Wukong is trying to ruin what he has because he’s jealous. Fight ensues and they argue a bunch. Wukong expresses how he was only trying to help and Nezha screams that he didn’t need help because this is what he wanted. Wukong says he’s not in his right mind and that’s the final straw. In a burst of power he destroys the bands and fights Wukong. He wins (mostly because Wukong has his bands still on and is in shock from the whole situation.) Nezha tells him to leave and never come back .As the celestial armies start to circle them Wukong fleas. To add a cherry of suffering and resentment on top of the milkshake Nezha was one of the only friends that Wukong was still good with after the brotherhood and macaque left him. And for Nezha after the journey to the west and Wukong proving he was good since they were in bad standing was scorned and looked down on more than before. Once again he was falling, and it was Wukongs fault.

just some food for thought :) if you have any questions feel free to ask

Notes/Answered questions: Why was Nezha able to break the bands in battle when Wukong couldn’t break his circlet? Simple The only reason Nezha was able to break his is because he needed to access his full power and his only intention to use that full power was too help protect the celestial realm to the fullest extent aiding it and spinning the web of manipulation further without them having to lift a finger.

Why was Wukong able to come in in the first place? Jade emperor and higher ups allowed it because they planned to use nezha in the future and place him in a powerful and influential role. Putting him against what they currently see as the celestial realms biggest threat was a good move and it wouldn’t do if they had a good relationship. Why did the jade emperor not do anything after Nezha started to fall out of Grace, when the Journey to the West finished? He still sees Wukong as a threat and believes he can, and we’ll go rouge any moment.

[tuiyla]

Buffy s3 quick thoughts

Alright I simply must write out Buffy s3 thoughts before we go any further. Up to 3x08 right now.

The double Slayer of it all

This is something I for sure wanna do another post about and who knows how my feelings for about Faith evolve but I just wanna note that the double Slayer thing is super interesting and thus far they're not doing enough with the concept. Sure, Kendra and Faith are both foils to Buffy and they form a spectrum where Kendra was more reserved and organized but also more mechanical and less her own person than Buffy. And Faith is wilder, a loner, troubled kid who's overall more willing to dive in head first and embrace darker aspects which is dangerous no matter how cool she looks doing it. Compared to just one of them, Buffy might seem inadequate from certain aspects but compared to both she's balanced. And the show certainly does still treat her as the one true Slayer which is where my problems come in.

I'm going to go out on a limb and say we'll see a LOT more of the Buffy and Faith parallels and comparisons so I'm not going to lament the lack of that just yet. I do however feel like the existence of another Slayer should be treated more seriously in-universe. Not only should another Slayer be a constant reminder that Buffy died and came back but it should reshuffle her whole identity, hitherto shaped by being the Chosen One. She's now part of the Chosen Two and on the second second Slayer at that and it barely registers as an existential crisis? Couldn't be me. I'll elaborate on this later (if you'd like?) but yeah I just wish the show tapped into the enormous potential of this more. Also the Council?? And the Watchers?? Should not be as chill about this. But maybe there are upcoming things that prove they aren't.

And then there's how quickly Kendra as a Black woman was discarded and not really mourned at all beyond being a footnote in Buffy's really bad no good terrible day. She was a plot device to get the shitty day to be even shittier and replaced with Faith, a Slayer with a much larger role very quickly. And I just think that's not a great look for the show in terms of race. And the 1998 and "different time" card doesn't really fly. It is what it is.

The Scooby Gang and friendships/relationships

Okay first of all I think there's only been a Scooby reference once so far so I hope the fandom didn't stick with this term for two decades because of that one-off line. Second, and I don't even know why I'm getting started on this when I know I won't elaborate properly but they way people are way too quick to be harsh on Buffy bothers me. There are instances when I think she should get what the hell hero moments but my good 3x02 was painful to watch. I'm cutting Willow some slack because generally she's the best friend you could have and handles things way more maturely than the others do, all the while being adorable. But s3 is when I stop resisting being pissed off by Xander. Overall the series does seem aware when he's being an ass but not enough for my tastes and the vibe of 3x02 was way too "both sides were wrong" for my taste when really Buffy was way more justified in her hurt than any other character. I did appreciate Cordy standing up for her, but I also often feel like Cordy deserves better friends - certainly a better boyfriend - and frankly a show that threats her better. God only knows if that show will be Angel or not.

And not only friendships but the romance drama. Sure, it's expected but I can hardly believe anyone actually liked the Willow and Xander thing. Oz is alright but he's also kinda flat as a character and even being a werewolf doesn't give him much colour. Like I said, Cordy has always deserved better than Xander and though I feel like they'll inevitably get back together, I wish they wouldn't. Swear I had more thoughts on romances but they're largely frustrating so I'll leave it at that.

3x07 is always cursed

Actually I'm not done talking about Faith because I really need to talk about the lackluster writing of 3x07. I'm not mad that conflict is arising between Buffy and Faith, I'm mad that it's done poorly. Like I said it's such a rich potential for a juicy juicy dynamic and not only are they not utilizing it, they half-assed their big break of trust moment. Mrs. Post was way underdeveloped, along with Faith's ch actually. Because if only we spent more effort on establishing Faith as someone who's hard to trust and has issues and easily retreats into hurt and isolation I'd be a'ight it hurts to see but I get that she'd be sus of Buffy from now on. But we didn't. There were no real Faith focused moments between her introductory ep and 3x07. She gets offended when the Gang holds the Angel intervention without her but the baddie Watcher barely has to do anything to get Faith to act all stupid about it. The whole Xander scene and then immediately wanting to attack Angel, it just came out of nowhere and honestly made me feel like I missed a scene. It's not completely unreasonable for a Slayer to want to kill a vampire as notorious as Angel. After all, Kendra also left Angel for dead and that was before he went back to being Angelus. But this was just so... convoluted when it really didn't have to be.

This could have been the start of a really compelling arc that hurts me, personally, as someone who's ready to be baited by Fuffy - and for all I know, it might turn out to be delicious. But the initial conflict was so poorly executed and half-assed, and after the Angelus twist of season 2 I'm expecting better. If you can deliver that much of a gut punch with Buffy's bf you can do it with her gf, too. I dare BTVS to break my heart over Fuffy but ONLY if they do it right. Do it, you cowards, write me a tragedy.

And that was Buffy corner with tuiyla! Stay tuned for when we jump back in time and catch up on seasons 1 and 2.

[osmorphosis]

240126-27: house rave with chloe friday evening to support ralphie, who has an art booth there. supposed to be from 11pm-12pm the next day. i stay until 4am and decide to leave bc im supposed to be meeting up with lorenzo saturday noon. google maps AND chrono tell me the bus will be a few minutes late. i leave EARLY to get to the bus ON TIME in case its NOT late. i get to the bus stop one minute before the right bus time. there is no bus. i look at google maps. the bus departed EARLY FFS. i go back to the rave and decide to wait for the metro to restart bc there is no other optimal night bus routes. i take another pill of molly bc atp wtf am i supposed to do. however at some point, ralphie thinks they might’ve gotten roofied. we’re like ok we’ll stay with you. they start getting really sleepy, not sure if it’s just tiredness or actually roofing. chloe watches over ralphie’s booth while i go to the bed to watch over them while they sleep. i’m high af at that point and i’m sitting there shaking trying to make yzl’s departure necklace while surrounded by so much weed i can barely see lmfao. chloe comes to sleep too. i’m watching over both of them but they’re fucking SOUND asleep so i don’t dare wake them up to leave. moss comes around 8am to check on us. at this point people are clearing out, they’re making breakfast and the sun is up. i leave the bed but have to go watch over ralphie’s booth. a bit before 9am i’m like fuck i have to go + there’s barely anyone anymore so i go tell asleep ralphie and chloe that i’m leaving (moss is still there so).

i get home at around 9am. take care of cat. take a shower bc i’m probably covered in weed. try to listen to 4th wall while in bed and end up falling asleep probably like 30 min my supposed wake-up time.

i’m supposed to meet lorenzo at 12:30……. i wake up at 1:45pm. i want to kms. i srsly consider just never answering him and like ,,,, yeah. block him and let him believe im a catfish. but i’m shameless so. i apologize profusely. still want to kms. feels like the world is ending bc it’s so embarrassing and just SO terrible so so so bad and terrible. he’s the most understanding ever which makes me feel like even more shit. he tells me we can meet quickly at the metro to say hi. i consider not going bc that’s so embarrassing how can i even face him like he should be cutting me tf off. but i go bc i have to apologize in person. we say hi. i apologize profusely. i give him a pretty rock mel gave me (long story). he’s so sweet and forgiving and understanding it makes me feel even shittier. but somehow i lowkey almost feel more bonded?? if our friendship can survive this then !!

that’s it, the crazy ends here. i spend the evening with yzl for the last time before her exchange. she sheds a few tears at my letters (i cooked) which makes me feel so much love for her and so loved in return. friendship is beautiful! friendship is rewarding! there is nothing that has been quite as emotional gratifying as friendship! i am so so so emotionally fulfilled by my friendships <3

[acephysicskarkat]

One of the reasons SP0P S5 discarding the work the writers had put in across the previous four seasons bothers me is because it costs the show so much in terms of dramatic weight.

Like, imagine a version of “Corridors” where C*tra has a repeat of the “Promise” flashback accompanied by flickers of the shit she’s pulled, and then her apology goes something like: “Adora...I‘m sorry. I should have had your back from the start. Like we - like I - promised. Well...maybe I can start now.”

Like, not to toot my own horn, but doesn’t that first draft I came up with while waiting for something to type to come through the system at work sound way more compelling than the show’s actual decision? You know, the one where it:

told us C*tra saying sorry was a Very Big Deal in a flashback that paints their Childhood Friendship as such a toxic, controlling mess that it makes things like that promise look considerably shittier in retrospect;

did this three minutes before that plot point paid off, with no actual substantive setup* done in any other episode; and

made that big apology so vague it reads like a Minecraft Youtuber trying to paper over a scandal without actually admitting to anything?

I mean, I’m just thinking out loud here, but maybe imbuing a character’s redemption with some basic awareness of who they are as a character, what they’ve done and why is...a good thing? good for writing interesting character arcs? just sayin’

* like, you can’t even count “C*tra never says she’s sorry for anything” as substantive setup because she does. in the second episode. written by the showrunner. like yes that apology is clearly not meant but c*tra’s big dramatic S5 apology is so undercut by bad scripting decisions across the rest of the season that it doesn’t feel like she meant it either despite the frantic efforts of the framing

[solaneceae]

REFUGE : a MFKZ oneshot

AO3 link : https://archiveofourown.org/works/33567571

************

So... Things weren't looking too great.

Vinz pursed the lips he didn’t have, looking up from his sketchbook- he wasn’t a good artist by any means, but mindless doodling had always been his go-to activity for stress relief. Unfortunately, Angelino hadn’t moved an inch. Hadn’t for days now.

Nobody knew what was wrong with him- they’d tried just about everything to wake him up, to no avail. It was like his body was fighting against itself- the professor’s words, not his. Something about his weird biology shifting, disrupted by recent stress.

Well, whatever was going on, his best friend looked awful- his usually inky black skin had an unhealthy ashen tint, deep shadows under his eyes making him look even more bug-eyed than usual. He was also eerily still and silent, save for his deep, raspy breathing, and his eyes that sometimes moved rapidly for a few minutes before stopping. Beads of sweat were gathering at his temples, his clavicle, his stomach, falling slowly on the fabric of the couch he was laid on- one of the only pieces of furniture in the bare little cabin they’d been assigned to.

Or confined to, given the disapproving looks the hothead got from their saviors whenever he tried to go further than the water hole behind the wooden house.

Their saviors- the luchadores. As crazy as it sounded still, him and Lino had been rescued from that nightmare facility by none other than their wrestling idols- and had the circumstances not been this terrifying, Vinz definitely would’ve been fanboying all over the place. Both Tigre and Diablo were even more impressive up close, their booming, commanding voices rattling his bones.

But that was the thing- the admiration, the awe, the fluttery feeling of being starstruck… it hadn’t lasted very long. Not when they were running from bloodthirsty aliens -aliens!- with some weird old man who knew way too much about Lino for it to be comfortable.

Vinz groaned, getting off the floor- his joints cracked as he walked to the couch to sit by Lino’s bedside, feeling completely useless. He stifled a flinch when he spotted a few roaches in the palm of Lino’s hand, apparently watching over their beloved master.

It was equally sweet and gross, in Vinz’ opinion. But he couldn’t be mad- not anymore. Not when the swarm of crawling black pests had been the cause of their salvation. He distantly wondered if his friend’s true nature had something to do with the strange connection he had with his roaches.

Yeah… That was another thing he’d had to unpack in the last few days. He’d figured from Angelino’s recent athletic exploits and murder-y, tentacle-y episodes that something very weird was up with his best friend. But this… this was a little too much.

As it turned out, Lino was an alien. An honest-to-God alien- or at least, half of him was. The guy had never, ever talked about his parents, his earliest memories only going back to the orphanage they’d both grown up in. God knows how he’d ended up there, but considering how the Machos (and what stupid-ass name that was for an alien race, for real) seemed to view relashionships between humans and their kind… Vinz could take a guess at how that little love story had ended.

He wasn’t an idiot, despite what all the people he’d worked with might think. In the short moments where he’d been conscious and the big suit guy was around, he’d heard him mention something about ‘finishing what he’d started’ as he glared at Lino’s unresponsive body.

That had told Vinz everything he needed to know. Whoever Lino’s parents had been, they were long dead. And that man was responsible for it.

Angelino didn’t need this. He didn’t deserve any of this, to be torn from his family, hunted down like a rogue animal, and even now, being looked down at like some interesting science experiment.

Oh, Vinz saw them alright. The curious stares, the inquisitive glances. The hushed conversations between the masked men, like Lino held all answers.

Like he’d said- he would’ve fanboyed hard about his favorite fighters being around. But the way they looked at and talked about his best friend made his blood boil and his flames burn hotter. It didn’t matter that Lino was a hybrid, that he had freaky powers, hell, he could’ve been the second coming of Jesus for all Vinz cared.

Angelino was his best friend in the whole world. They’d been through so much together, even before this mess- they’d been living together their whole lives, they trusted each other, supported each other no matter what.

Vinz had wondered why he’d been so angry at Lino, at that girl. He briefly considered the possibility that he was harboring feelings for his best friend, that it was jealousy. But it quickly occurred to him that no, that wasn’t the nature of his feelings for the black ball-headed man.

Vinz loved Lino, yes. More than anything in this world, if he was being honest with himself. But he wasn’t in love with him- there was a distinct difference. He wanted to protect him, stand by him. He wanted them to keep watching dumb movies together late at night, on their shitty couch, in their shitty apartment and yet shittier neighborhood. And he’d be content with that- as long as Angelino was here, he’d be okay.

Angelino. His best friend. And his partner, for life.

This ran probably deeper than mere friendship- not like Vinz would know how to even call it. It might not have been romantic… but it felt equally as strong, and precious. Vinz sighed, crossing his arms on the couch and resting his skull between his arms. He’d considered running away- take Lino and run, run on the line between ochre sand and purple skies of the desert. Hide out somewhere, wait for everything to finally blow over. Watch over Lino until he woke up, as he was doing now.

But that was a pipe dream, and Vinz knew that. They weren’t the survivor types- they’d just die within a few days without the luchadores’ help, and then what? No, as much as Vinz disliked it, staying here was the smartest thing he could do right now.

So Vinz kept watch- gently cleaning Lino’s exposed skin with a wet sponge when his body ran too hot, replacing the cool rag on his forehead and eyes. Covering him with a blanket when he got too cold, whispering hushed reassurances.

Shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay.

I’m here.

I’m not leaving.

Come on Lino, please.

Come back to me, okay?

I can’t do this shit without you.

I’ll be better, I promise.

I’ll protect you this time, so please.

Please wake up.

[paperpocalypse]

crackers and jam.

50 Cliché Tropes and Prompts: 41. Overhearing they have feelings for you.

Pairing: Five Hargreeves x Reader

Word Count: 1,703 words

Warnings: Swearing

Some time back, not long after he got stranded in the post-apocalyptic world and perhaps a year and a half before running into you, Five’s only companion was Delores.

It had been a meeting of chance (as everything is) in the middle of a destroyed department store. She had been looking at him. And maybe that’s why he was so drawn in – that stare; it was a lifeless stare, yeah, but it was not by any means a dead stare like the ones he had met too many times before. No life had been lost to create that stare. She was smiling, too.

Five had lifted her carefully out of the chunks of concrete, greeting her because there was no one else. For the first few weeks, he just placed her at the corner of her store and visited every once in a while, then took to occasionally toting her around the City when he needed to talk. He liked to pretend that she answered back – sometimes. After a few months, he named her Delores.

Then he met you.

Unlike Delores, you were human. Breathing. Alive, somehow. And you had thoughts and feelings that weren’t always connected to his and – and it was weird. It was home.

You didn’t question his friendship with Delores. Five had seen the half-burned stuffed frog in your wagon, so you wouldn’t have had anything to hold over him anyway. He knew that you knew that he still went to the department store in the middle of the night. And, shit, deep down Five also knew that Delores was, in the end, just a hunk of plastic with eyes. But after a year and a half of having nobody else, she had become something of a comfort. And a confidant. Burdening you with his issues was not an option, so when things became a little shittier than usual, he would slip out from underneath his blanket, make sure you weren’t having a nightmare, and head downtown to voice his thoughts aloud.

Over time, though, he learned that you were willing to listen. You listened, and you were always kind about it even if you didn’t always understand. His nightly visits decreased. And it was okay for a while.

But then Five began to struggle with a new issue – one that was a little different than the usual mess of stress and anxiety – and one night, he finds himself looking down at Delores again because talking to you about it is definitely off the table.

Unfortunately, Delores’s kindness is different from yours.

Well, here we are. Again.

“I’m just here to think,” he snaps, combing a grubby hand through his tangled mess of hair. The lantern beside him glows weakly as he plops down onto a slab of concrete. “Mind your business.”

Your business is everyone’s business here, Five. And to put my own two cents in, I think that you’re scared of your own feelings.

Blood travels to Five’s cheeks, unwarranted, as he narrows his eyes at Delores. “For the last time, that’s not what this is about. It’s – Jesus Christ, I’m gonna get over it. This isn’t a life-or-death issue.”

Then why have you been ranting about it like it is?

“I’m not.”

Ha! Rich.

He grits his teeth. She stares back at him, unperturbed. Bastard.

You know, maybe you’ll feel better if you say it out loud. Air it out. Test to see if it’s real.

“I’m not doing that.”

Do it.

No.

Say it.

No.

For god’s sake, Number Five, take a goddamn look at yourself –

“Fine!” Five hisses, though it feels more like an explosion. He throws his hands up. “I like [Y/n], alright? We’re the last people on this goddamn planet and I like them, and I shouldn’t care this much but I do. Happy?”

Delores pauses. Five looks away.

Very.

Ugh.

Did it feel real?

He clicks his tongue, crossing his arms, and doesn’t answer. The smile on Delores’s face seems a little smug, and it makes him want to hurl. He shouldn’t have said it out loud. Relieve some of the pressure and everything starts to boil over …

Breathing in deeply, Five forces his shoulders to relax. He bids a soft goodbye to Delores, then heads back to camp.

—

A week later, Five’s visit comes back to bite him in the worst way possible.

You’ve been having a hard time starting the fire for tonight, so he finishes splitting the evening rations to help you out with the bow drill. As he does so, you watch in silence, both of you waiting patiently for the smoke and dust.

“Do you think we have enough wood?” you eventually ask.  

“It’s enough,” he murmurs, only half paying attention. After a while, a few chalky wisps of smoke begin to rise from the charring wood. He leans in to blow the ember carefully once it forms, then puts it into the tinder and coaxes out a flame. “Get the kindling?”

You oblige, and within a few minutes, a healthy fire starts to dance atop the wood, scorching his face and fingers with heat. Five stares intently at the oranges and yellows for a moment, lips pressed together, intrigued in a tired sort of way. Warmth. Then he backs off and grabs a portion of crumbled up crackers, handing it to you.

You spread the cloth over your knees. “Now all we need is some jam.”

“What kind?”

A soft hum escapes your throat. You contemplate unhurriedly, dabbing up some stray crumbs with a finger. “Blackberry,” you reply after a few moments. “Or strawberry. The kind that’s sort of chunky.”

It’s been a long time since he’s tasted either of those things. The simple thought of whole crackers spread with fresh jam, sweet and dark and sticky, is a luxury in and of itself. Five tries not to think about it too much, munching on his third fragment of stale cracker. It makes his mouth dry. “Hm,” he says, picking up the canteen for a few drops of water.

The fire pops. A few sparks fly out into the air and die just as quickly. You finish your supper and wipe your mouth, stretching your legs out in front of you as you sigh.

Five tilts his head at you. “What?”

“What?” you parrot back, though he sees the way your fingers fidget.

“You have something to say.”

Your facial expression shifts just the smallest bit. “How can you tell?”

(Simple – because he knows you. He knows your ticks; knows how you tick. He knows your smiles and all the subtle ways that your voice rises and falls. He’s memorized you because he fears forgetting, and it’s a problem.)

“Kind of hard not to,” Five replies.

“Oh.” You chew the inside of your cheek, still seeming unsure. “Well, um … I just wanted to talk to you about something. And please don’t be mad.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Um. A couple nights ago, I had a bad dream.”

“I know.”

“Not the one you woke me up from. A different one,” you mutter. “The night after we found the pillows.”

“Oh,” Five says.

“Yeah.” You look down at your hands. They’re dusty and rough, littered with small scars from climbing and falling and holding. “I … um, that night, I woke up and you weren’t there. And I sort of panicked, and went looking –”

The blood drains from Five’s face.

“I went looking for you, and I found you. Talking to her.” You glance at him for a split second. “About me.”

Oh, fuck.

Five stares at you as you fiddle with the scrap of cloth on your lap. You know. You weren’t supposed to know. You weren’t supposed to ever know, and now you do.

“Five?” Your voice is curious and small.

His voice is raspy. “How much did you hear?”

“Almost everything.” You grab the cuff of his coat sleeve as he attempts to stand up. “I’m sorry for eavesdropping. I really didn’t mean to, but –”

“It’s not your fault. Look, I don’t want to talk about it,” he replies tersely. “We need more firewood, anyway.”

“We have enough,” you say, though you relinquish your hold when he tugs a little harder away from you. You sound hurt. “Five, it’s okay to feel like that.”

“It’s not. It makes things more complicated.”

“How?” Standing up, your brow furrows. “I like you too, Five. If that’s what you’re worried about.”

His chest tightens. “That just makes it worse.”

“I like you,” you repeat. Your hand moves down to take his gently. “A lot. And it’s okay.”

(Did it feel real?)

Five meets your gaze solidly despite not quite wishing to, a familiar sense of guilt washing over him when you squeeze his hand.

Sometimes, he wishes he hadn’t met you. Then he would’ve gotten what he deserved for his recklessness – nothing – with nothing to concern himself with other than equations and survival and time. That, he’s fairly sure, would have been easier to manage. He hadn’t been taught to care for someone else. Not like this, at least.

But you. You. Five swallows the lump in his throat.

“I might have to leave you behind,” he murmurs, more hoarsely than he’d like to admit. The words burn like ice on the roof of his mouth. “One day.”

You don’t reply for a few seconds.

Then, for some inexplicable reason, you step a little closer. “But not tonight," you say. "Right?”

For shit’s sake, you’re so optimistic. Five chuckles dryly, hand still engulfed in yours, blinking away the vague stinging in his eyes. “Of course not.”

“Then I forgive you. If you feel like you need it.” With a mild exhale, you smile at him. Your eyes are glossy. “So can we sit back down? I like doing that.”

He quietly agrees.

So you bring him back down to sit before the fire, closer to him than before. No more words are left to be said. A heavy silence settles in their place, neither good nor bad, and almost comfortable. For the first time in a long time, Five tries not to think.

You lean against his shoulder. He welcomes it.

[destielficsndrabbles]

What is your top 5 Destiel fics?

So I abandoned this blog years ago because the show was pissing me off and i had to take a step back. But, I’m feeling the vibe of the fandom again so I’ll give give it the old college try again. Anyway, here are some favorites. They’re all E or M because I’m a thirsty bitch.

My Top Five Destiel Fics 

a turn of the earth by microcomets (M)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

There’s Only One Sure Thing I Know by blinkiesays (E)

Dean doesn’t even get halfway through explaining before Bobby starts laughing. When he lets himself think about it for more than five seconds, Dean can almost see Bobby’s point: he’s faced down demons, witches, vampires, werewolves, ghosts, angels, and Satan himself and now he’s been defeated by the God damn Midwest. 

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (E)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

The Most Important Thing by  NorthernSparrow (E)

Jimmy Novak remembers nothing of the last six years. Reunited with his troubled daughter Claire, he’s struggling to raise her on his own. The most important thing is to make Claire happy. But why does he keep having these dreams of wings, and of two men in a black car? (Canon-divergent from S10E11, when we first met Claire again and Dean was still struggling with the Mark of Cain. Takes places several months later).

Crazy Diamonds by pantheon_of_discord (E)

A week ago, Dean was pulled out of Hell. Now, he’s apparently woken up in 2018, and the angel that a mere twenty-four hours beforehand had threatened to chuck him back into the pit is sleepily pouring himself coffee and wearing Dean’s second-favourite Zeppelin shirt. It all seems like a perfect happy ending, but with Hell’s scars still so fresh, Dean can’t imagine how he could have possibly gotten there.

At the same time, the Dean who went to sleep in the bunker, right next to Cas, wakes up on Bobby’s couch in 2008. He’s instantly bombarded with questions by a Lilith-obsessed brother and a man who’s been dead for years, and must decide between keeping his finally-perfect life intact, and the lives he could save by re-writing history.

Regardless of these choices, both Deans are trapped in the wrong decade, and their only way back lies with a Castiel still very much under Heaven’s thumb – one who might find the future Dean describes difficult to believe.

Bonus: Two Favorite Finale Fix-its

Nothing Equals the Splendor by RurouniHime (E)

(The other fic written by this author is amazing too and we should all bully them into writing more for destiel)

Maybe it’s the cynic in him. The hunter, always under the surface of any quietude he ever found. Or maybe it’s just that he has always had trouble with blind faith. But after a while (a blink? A decade? A century?), Dean raises his eyebrows, looks around, and says���“Uh. No.”It’s so close. Just so slightly imperfect. And maybe, he analyzes, maybe that’s the final knell of this bell called contentment. Dean’s experience with happiness has always been that last rise in the road, right before it turns. Right before fate comes barreling around the corner head on.He turns in his spot on the bridge, and suddenly Sam is like a cellophane film through which he can see the light streaming, and the taste of cheap beer on his tongue is much, much older a memory than it should be.

“Oh, you’re good,” he says, and means it.

Under the Same Sun by prosopopeya (E)

In which time is infinite, and so is the list of people willing to help Dean figure out what to do about Cas.

A fix-it for a lot of things: Dean’s repressed bisexuality, Dean’s utterly inexplicable failure to realize what Cas meant, the Charlie & Dean brother/sister content I crave, among others.

Bonus x2: A Shameless Plug for my own Romantic Comedy A/U Series

Ignore the Butterflies: Best Friend Advice from Dean Winchester by impatient14

What do you get when you add Firefighter!Dean to standoffish-Doctor!Castiel?

A thousand other fics, you say? Aaaand what’s your point exactly??!?!

Dean likes his doctor, but his doctor doesn’t like him. Accidental friendship ensues, heartwarming bonding type moments occur, and oops!friends become best!friends. But best friends aren’t supposed to feel the way Dean feels about Castiel. He knows this. So he ignores all the things that he can’t help feeling. When he sits and watches a movie with his best friend or when they are arguing about which method of coffee brewing is best, he pointedly doesn’t look at his friends lips, or the adorable way he tilts his head when he doesn’t understand.

Dean ignores his feelings. That’s the way he knows how to keep his best friend. Just ignore the butterflies.

[pomegranates-and-blood]

Not You (500 Celebration)

500 Celebration Masterlist

Pairing: Ivar/Reader

Prompt: From the Quotes category: “You are shaking fists and trembling teeth. I know: you did not mean to be cruel. That does not mean you were kind.”  

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Ivar (he is a warning, idk what to tell u). Angst. Graphic descriptions of violence. Blood. Death. My shitty writing.

A/N: I’m slowly getting back to writing, I’ll try to get to the requests and challenge entries soon. I am so so sorry for being so slow lately. Thank you for being patient, and for your support!

Also, this isn’t very good (I was in between two paths to take with this, and fitting the quote into it was tricky lol) so I apologize in advance, I just really need to push forward w/writing, so you’ll have to bear with me with some shittier than usual stuff for a while lol. Love ya!

There’s something you have learned a while ago, long ago enough that you cannot recall when it was that the realization dawned on you.

You’ve learned there are countless different ways Ivar tells you he loves you.

He tells you quietly, a whisper against your lips, as he prepares to leave for the spring, as he leaves behind your home to lands unexplored, as he leaves your embraces for battles to fight. You savor those times with the bittersweetness of goodbye, with the promise of yet another reunion; and each time he promises one last I love you, barely audible over the winds of the coast, you taste the salt of the sea on your lips and save your words, the silent order to return to you if he wishes to hear it back. He always does.

He tells you fervently, words stumbling over one another, as you make each promise he asks of you, as you promise to be by his side for as long as the Gods let you, as you promise to become his wife before the Gods and any who may be present. You can almost hear the same promise of his own being made as he repeats those three words; and each time he vows his love in between starved and frantic kisses broken by words and too-wide smiles, you still the fervor with but a touch as you always did, promising the same love with the lowest of voices, hoping he can hear. He always does.

He tells you hoarsely, a litany accompanied by your name as his voice gives out, as your hands and lips trace over every inch you wish to and remind him of what hunger feels like, as you put him at your mercy and remind him of what being yours feels like. You feel power running through your veins like lightning with each of those prayers in the shape of your name, in the cadence of an I love you; and with each breathed truth and each jagged moan that speaks without words what you already know, you press yourself as close as you can to him, and promise the same with reverent kisses over fever-warm skin, with sighs of his name, with the certainty he can understand, can see it in your eyes, how much you love him. He always does.

He tells you hesitantly, with the sudden fear of who jumps not really certain there will be a safe spot to land on, as a years-old certainty is dragged to the front of his mind and happiness is nothing is a truth more than your love for him could ever be, as the self-loathing that still surprises and catches you off guard makes itself known in his voice and in the blue of his eyes. You always feel your heart break a bit more at each of those times, at each admission that love like this after a lifetime of pain can only mean that it will leave -and you hear the words he doesn’t say, you will leave- and bring forth agony when it does; yet you still promise your love and pray he believes you. He always does.

There are countless different ways he tells you he loves you.

The door to your rooms opens, and your hands clench into fists in the rose-colored water you were washing them on. You don’t turn around, but the familiar sound of Ivar’s steps stopping a fair distance away from you tells you that he knows you are aware of his presence.

You refuse to look at him until you can get the blood of your hands, though. For a moment you are afraid you never will be able to wash off the stain.

Emir’s words, accusing, biting, true, “You look at a monster like him and you choose to love him, at all the monstrous things he does and you choose to love him despite them. You are worse than he is.”

With the dark eyes of the man you were once married to set on you, you didn’t feel anything other than anger, than the familiar ire and drive to defend the man you love. And even now, with the evidence of the monstrous things the man you love does still staining your hands, you don’t feel any regret, any shame.

You shake the water off your hands, and the instinctual movement to dry them haphazardly on the front of your dress is jarringly stopped when you notice the blood still staining the sleeves of it. You grab a linen instead, and count your breaths before you turn around.

Ivar is sitting near the door, head turned to the side as he watches his thumb run over and over, almost compulsively, over a ridge on the top of his crutch. You linger for a few breaths watching him, the uncharacteristic nervousness of the man that killed without second thought and would again, the jarring humanity of someone capable of such cruel things, and the truth behind Emir’s words doesn’t bother you at all.

Ivar takes a breath, but doesn’t look at you, still following with his eyes the repetitive movement of his hand, when he says, “I love you.”

There are countless different ways he tells you he loves you, and now, now it sounds like an apology, like an apology and something else, something more fragile. Like a request, like a plea, but you don’t know what for.

Taking a deep breath, you step forward.

Big eyes look up at you as you approach, but he doesn’t move, he doesn’t say anything else. Heart heavy, you have to curl your hand into a fist to keep traitorous fingers from falling into the temptation of tracing the slight furrow of his brow, of soothing the lines of worry you see etched in the angles of his face, to follow the line of his jaw and remind him not to grit his teeth like that.

“I know you do,” You whisper quietly, and it isn’t the answer you usually give. Past the flare of anger in his eyes, you see something else, something that looks like fear and makes acid churn at your stomach. You swallow thickly, “Ivar, I-…”

“No, no, just…just-…you know I wasn’t thinking,” He interrupts, and though there’s a frantic edge to his words, it is quickly overshadowed by that anger particular to him, that anger at feeling unmoored, that resentment at being vulnerable. “Anger overcame me, it wasn’t-…what would you have done, hm?”

“What?”

“He was trying to take you away from me, he was trying to convince you to leave me. I know that.”

He doesn’t mind the look you give him, pushing forward, “When we were children you would risk punishment by stealing to feed the hunting dogs, remember? Now you help Ivar the Boneless raid our land, overthrow our King, your brother? You’d burn the world for a man like him?”

Your eyes fall closed, and all you can offer is a sigh that gets halfway stuck in your throat.

Ivar stays silent, mercifully. Or cruelly, maybe. You aren’t sure you know the difference anymore. You aren’t sure you care.

Emir and you parted ways a long time ago, a marriage of convenience that blossomed into friendship, but that once your parents and his guardian were dead had no reason to continue to be so. Seeing him earlier tonight on the feast was not something you were expecting, and not something you thought would end the way it did. And his presence, his absence, beg the question he asked last and you are afraid to answer, what would you be willing to do for him? What would you forgive, what would you condemn?

His hands settle on the sides of your hips, a grounding touch, you aren’t sure if for your benefit or his own. Ivar pushes on when you remain silent for maybe too long.

“I need to know you can forgive me. I can make it better, I can…I can do that,” You don’t know if he is reassuring you or himself, and at your silence Ivar lifts big eyes to you again. There’s no hiding the fear now. “I l-love you.”

The scream is caught on your throat as Emir drops to the ground, the axe grotesquely stuck on the base of his neck. Your hands tremble, your whole body does, as you try helplessly to stop the bleeding as he gasps and chokes on his own blood.

A few involuntary jerks of his body as death grips him, and you lift your eyes and find Ivar’s unwavering gaze. He doesn’t give away anything other than cold fury, just the ruthless glare of the man Emir saw and was killed for speaking against.

You squeeze your eyes shut, “Stop saying it.”

“It is true, you know that,” He says, swallowing once before attempting, “And you love me.”

“You killed him, Ivar.”

“I had to.” He insists, searching your gaze as he uses his hands on your hips to tentatively bring you closer.

“You didn’t have to, you chose to.”

He grits his teeth, and there’s the clear tell of anger, of stubborn affront; but he doesn’t argue. Instead, searching your gaze for a few breaths, he asks,

“Can you forgive me?”

And it is at his words, at the answer that you can so easily give, that a pit grows in your stomach and ice runs through your veins. You can. You have already.

By all the Gods, if Emir is right and Ivar is a monster…what does loving him make out of you? What does forgiving the horrible things he does make out of the girl that would steal to feed hungry dogs?

Maybe the answer is in all the ways he tells you he loves you, in all the ways he promises devotion and protection and love. Maybe the answer is in how it has only felt real, it has only felt true, when it is Ivar the one telling you he loves you.

Maybe because you are not something other than that girl by loving him, but just by who you are, by growing past the desire to keep the world and learning to choose to let it burn for the sake of those you love. Maybe because you love him because of who you made out of yourself, not the other way around.

The ghost Emir’s voice becomes one with your brother’s, who still lives but not for long -not when his head holds a crown you are interested in and the man you love is willing to grant you-, and at what you made out of yourself they ask if you are content with your decision.

Searching his gaze, you mutely nod your head, both to his question and the one your ghosts ask.

“I can’t lose you,” Ivar admits past the clear tell of gritted teeth. He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. “Not you.”

Torturously slow, the tips of your fingers dance over the side of his face, tracing the scar on his cheekbone

“You won’t.”

At your promise Ivar sighs, the first deep breath you have heard from him in a while, as if he were holding his breath; and leans forward, burying his face against your stomach and holding you even closer.

“Tell me you love me.” He beseechs, no longer attempting to hide the need to hear you say it.

You are sure there are countless ways you tell him you love him too, you are sure in times like these you tell him you love him like a promise to never leave him, like the assurance that he won’t ever lose you; and he needs to hear you say it.

“I love you,” You promise him, your arms around his shoulders as best as you can. Your eyes fall closed and you wonder if the words should taste like shame when you offer yet another truth, “Nothing could change that.”

Quietly, so quietly you are half-convinced it is imagined, he whispers, “I’m sorry.”

“He was our enemy, he would have died in battle anyways.” You tell him, and it is true, and maybe worse. Emir would have died fighting against an invasion you are part of the reason for, he would have died defending a kingdom Ivar will claim because it was once your home, he would have died alongside an army whose weaknesses you whispered in Ivar’s ear a long time ago.

He would have died, and you would have been the reason why. And it would have mattered to you as much as it does now.

But Ivar shakes his head, “I’m sorry, for…for all that I do.”

You wonder absently if he apologizes now not for Emir’s murder but for something else, something more human. You wonder if he apologizes for craving your gentleness, for needing your reassurance, for asking for your love. You wouldn’t put it past those worst thoughts he has about himself to make him believe he ought to seek repentance for something as simple as humanity.

Your fingers tracing absently over the short hair at the nape of his neck, you take a deep breath, but say nothing, certain it isn’t words what he needs from you now.

After an eternity, or maybe a moment, Ivar speaks again.

Solemn, he promises, “I love you.”

There are countless different ways he tells you he loves you. Sometimes, sometimes an I love you is just that, an admission, a declaration. A truth.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @youbloodymadgenius​​ @xbellaxcarolinax​​ @1950schick​​ @ietss​​ @peachyboneless​​  @encounterthepast​​ @maggiescarborough​​ @chibisgotovalhalla​​ @fae-sedai​​ @zuxiezendler​​ @crazybunnyladysworld​​ @stupiddarkkside​​ @northumbria​​ @sagyunaro​​ @aprilivar​​

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Best Laid Plans

Summary: When Jensen starts acting strange around the reader, she has a talk with Jared to ease her worries. In doing so, she reveals a secret of her own and may just put an end to her friendship with Jensen for good...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Square: Friends to Lovers

Word Count: 6,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, more angst, secrets, eventual fluff

A/N: Written for @spndeanbingo​​

______

“Uh, excuse me,” you said, poking Jared in the back as you stood in line at the food truck when you spotted a familiar tuft of hair.

“Hey! What a coincidence. I need good barbecue after work this week,” he said.

“Weren’t you in LA for Walker stuff this week?” you asked.

“Yeah. Stupid producer stuff for a few episodes until I flew back home for filming a couple days back. I managed to sneak away for lunch,” he said. “You miss me?”

“Funny is all. Jensen said you guys were in LA working still,” you said, crossing your arms. Jared cocked his head and you nodded. “Yeah. Obviously that’s not true.”

You got out of line and started to head back for your car, Jared catching up and grabbing your arm not more than a few seconds later.

“Don’t even pretend to lie for him,” you said. 

“Okay,” said Jared. “I know he was really busy doing some voice over work.”

“Why didn’t he fly home with you? Better yet, why would he lie about it? He’s not...he’s being shady lately, Jared. He’s been spending all this time in LA and he’s avoiding me the past few weeks and lying to me. I don’t know what to think anymore,” you said.

“I know,” he said.

“Do you know what’s going on?”

“I do,” he said quietly. “Trust him. I know he’s...not being the best friend right now but trust him.”

“...Does he have a girlfriend?” you asked. Jared shook his head and you stared up at him. “You would tell him me if he did, right?”

“I swear, he is single. He’s not talking to anyone,” said Jared.

“Then why is he being all shady around me?”

“Why are you so concerned about him having a girlfriend?”

“I’m not,” you said.

“Really? Because I remember what drunk Y/N said at the series wrap party nearly six months back,” said Jared.

“I was drunk,” you said. He stared at you and you looked around. He rolled his eyes and grabbed your hand, pulling you over to a picnic bench to take a seat at. He started to eat and you felt his gaze on you. “I was drunk, Jared.”

“Drunk or sober, you love him,” said Jared.

“I love him like you love him,” you said.

“No, no you don’t. Maybe those first few months on set but I saw it bubbling up. Everyone saw it bubbling up. You guys have been best friends for years. The only person who didn’t see what was going on was Jensen.”

“I don’t even work with him anymore. I am very happy doing my voice over work and-”

“You moved to Austin.”

“So did you! You don’t own the whole city. You guys aren’t my only friends here,” you said. “My brother lives half an hour away and our parents are even thinking of moving here so-”

“All I’m saying is you’re connected at the hip with him almost as much as I am. More so now that I’m busy with Walker and he’s doing his different things,” said Jared.

“He’s allowed to have more than one best friend,” you said.

“I know. He’s got other ones besides me, ones long before you or I came into the picture. But none of his other best friends fell in love with him. Get the picture?”

“Forget it. I only asked because we had plans tonight and he wasn’t responding to me,” you said. You stood up and he frowned. “What would you do?”

“Tell him how I felt.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve been getting deeper and deeper for the past three years and he’s never noticed. I’m not supposed to be with him obviously.”

“But you love him.”

“He doesn’t love me like that, Jare.”

“Maybe you should ask,” said the voice behind you. You spun around, Jensen in his baseball cap and his carry on backpack over his shoulders. He gave a small wave and you went wide eyed. “I was on a flight. You kept calling so I got worried and used the find my iphone thing when I landed.”

“How long have you been standing there?” you breathed out.

“Since you sat down I think,” he said.

“I’m going to give you guys a minute,” said Jared. He grabbed his food and left, Jensen taking his spot. He looked down to the table, opening his mouth a few times.

“You love me?” asked Jensen. “More than a friend?”

“Yes,” you said. You swallowed and watched him rub the back of his neck. He gave you a quick glance but you caught no shyness in it and your stomach started to churn.

“Y/N, you’re my best friend and I love you as my best friend. I’d do anything for you. I just don’t...love you in that other kind of way,” he said. 

“Yeah,” you said. The air was still and you looked away. “Something came up tonight. I need to cancel.”

You stood up and heard him right behind you, grabbing your shoulder.

“Y/N,” he said running around in front of you. You couldn’t look at him, not after you’d just told him and it was very clear how he felt about you. “Y/N, wait. Let’s talk about this.”

“I don’t want to,” you said, biting your bottom lip. “I gotta go, Jay.”

You took off towards your car, cutting through a group of people to slow him down and you were pulling away by the time you saw him in your rearview mirror.

“Why’s he have to die?” you said to yourself that night, crying as you watched a movie and stabbing into your pint of ice cream. You took a sip of your wine and wiped off your face, the sound of the key in your door making you jump up. The door opened wide as you held up your spoon, Jensen stepping into the foyer. “Get out.”

“Shouldn’t have given me a key then,” he said, looking around your apartment. “Well now I feel even shittier than before. Sad chick flicks? Wine? Ice cream? You look like hell.”

“Leave your key and go,” you said as he slipped off his shoes and jacket.

“Not happening. You don’t walk out on three years of friendship like that, not us,” he said.

“Jensen. You didn’t do anything wrong. I can’t...I can’t hang out with you though if I know I feel a certain way and you don’t. It’s not your fault. I can’t just pretend it’s all okay though,” you said. You set your spoon down and took a seat on the couch. Jensen settled into his usual spot at the other end and kicked his feet up on the coffee table. “What are you doing?”

“I’ve been seeing a girl,” he said. “Quietly. No one really knows.”

“Oh,” you said. He hummed and you grabbed your blanket. He rested his head in his hand and started to watch the movie.

“We broke up an hour ago,” he said.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t love her. I didn’t even really like her. You made me realize something at the park today. I haven’t been single since I was a junior in high school and in all that time, I don’t think I’ve quite figured out what being in love is like.”

“I’m sure you loved someone,” you said.

“I’m sure I did too. But it’s always been this is my girlfriend. I’ve never thought of any of them as my best friend,” he said. 

“Jensen.”

“I don’t want to date anyone right now. All I want is to be your best friend,” he said.

“I don’t think I can do that.”

“Give me a chance?” he said. “I never wanted to hurt you. The second those words came out of my mouth I knew I did. But I’m a guy and stupid and I don’t want to lose you. So let’s watch a movie and eat and drink like we do when one of us breaks up with someone and in the morning if you still can’t stand to be near me, I’ll respect it.”

“One night won’t change how I feel.”

“I know.”

“I’m sorry but I’d really like it if you left, Jensen,” you said. “I need space. I’m not...I’m not saying maybe someday we can’t be friends again but right now, I really need to be away from you.”

“I understand,” he said. He smiled and stood up, putting his coat and shoes back on. He dipped his hand into his pocket and placed his key on your front table. “Would you have ever told me on your own?”

“I honestly don’t know. I was afraid of this exact situation,” you said.

“We’ll never be the same as it was, will we,” he said. 

“I wanted more than it was, Jensen.”

“Losing you hurts more than any girlfriend did if it’s any consolation,” he said. He left and you got up, locking up after him. You rested your head against the door before you quickly unlocked it, Jensen standing further down the hall by the elevators. He turned your direction as you stepped out.

“Come here,” you said. You slowly walked back to your apartment and you let him inside. You shut the door behind him and quickly pushed him back against it, giving him a kiss. He stared at you after you broke it off, blinking more than a few times. “Now how do you feel?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then go,” you said.

“Why’d you kiss me?”

“Because I don’t think you have any idea at all of what love, a relationship kind of love, actually is. It’s more than thinking someone is attractive or kind. You don’t understand and until you do, you shouldn’t date anyone, Jensen. For their sake and yours,” you said. He quickly left and you went back to your couch, stabbing into your ice cream once again.

“Hey,” said Jared, catching you coming out of the recording studio a few days later. You walked past him and he scoffed. “Why are you pissed at me?”

“Because you lied to me. You said Jensen wasn’t up to anything in LA and he was. You said you knew what he was doing out there. I always knew if it all went south you’d end up on his side. Just leave me alone, Jared,” you said. You walked down the sidewalk to your car, Jared right there with his hand on the door. “Move.”

“For your information, I didn’t know he was seeing anyone. You really want to know what he was doing out there? Talking to network executives about you. He got cast in something and he thought you’d be great for the female lead. I’m pretty sure you’re going to get a call about an audition soon. But you’re right. I’m an ass that only cares about one of my best friends.”

He walked away and you stared after him with a sigh.

“Jared-”

“No. You know, I don’t know what the Hell you said to him but whatever it was, it was out of line. You can’t be angry at someone for not feeling the same way about you. You’re not in middle school, Y/N. Grow up,” said Jared. He huffed and went inside the studio as you slipped inside your car. You sat behind the wheel for a moment, your phone ringing all of a sudden.

“Hi, Zoey,” you said. She went off a mile a minute and you squeezed your eyes shut. “A movie with Jensen? Oh yeah, that sounds great. Set something up and I’ll do the audition.”

You hung up and rested your head against the wheel.

“Should have just said no. Should have said you were taking a break but no, had to say yes like an idiot,” you said to yourself. “Hopefully they hate me and give it to someone else.”

Two Months Later

“You guys have to be loving this! Working together again,” said the director. You glanced at Jensen and he forced a smile. “Alright. You two are wrapped for the day along with Nate. Head on home. We got plenty more work tomorrow.”

You kept a smile on your face until he walked away, quickly separating from Jensen.

“Hey!” said Nate, your other lead for the movie as he jogged over to you both. “It’s not that late. Would you guys maybe want to grab dinner? I don’t know many people in Austin aside from work people.”

“Maybe we can grab a bite over the weekend?” said Jensen.

“I’ll go Nate,” you said, shooting Jensen a look. “Don’t mind him, he’s just old.”

There was a quick flash of anger on Jensen’s face but it was so subtle Nate wouldn’t have noticed. 

“Let me just grab my bag and then we can go get some food,” you said.

“Awesome,“ said Nate. He headed over towards his trailer, Jensen walking over to you quickly. You put your hands on your hips and he did it right back.

“It’s nine. It’s late. What are you doing taking the new kid out on a weeknight?”

“I didn’t realize you had a bedtime, Jensen. Call time isn’t until 9 tomorrow. We’ll both be home and in bed by eleven not that it’s any of your business,” you said.

“I’m not old,” he said. “You want to go out after a thirteen hour day, be my guest.”

“Come with us, don’t come with us, I really don’t care, Jensen,” you said. “It was a joke. We used to go out after filming was done on the show all the time. Don’t be so sensitive.”

“Don’t blame me when you’re exhausted in the morning.”

He left with a huff and you rolled your eyes, ducking in your trailer quick. You caught up with Nate a few minutes later who was all smiles.

“Ready?” you asked.

“Yeah. You and Jensen, you’re not together or anything, right?” he asked. “He seemed…”

“No, no. We don’t like each other like that,” you said. “I’m very much single.”

“Good,” he smiled. You returned it, ignoring the small guilty feeling in your stomach for talking to Jensen like that. “So where can we get a good steak around here?”

“You smell like a bar,” said Jensen the next day as you got coffee at craft services. You grabbed your cup as he walked away, sipping from hi own.

“That’s rude,” you said. 

“Don’t be so sensitive, Y/N,” he said with a smirk. You bumped his shoulder and paused as you headed for set.

“Oh and not that you would care but Nate asked me out on a date tonight,” you said.

“Funny. I thought attraction wasn’t the only qualifier to be in love,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “That’d just be for me. You want to date the guy that just wants in your pants, fine.”

“Shut up,” you said. 

“Back at you, runt.” 

You looked back angrily, Jensen bumping you this time as he went by. You caught up with him and grabbed his arm, Jensen frowning.

“Don’t you dare call me runt. Not you of all people. You know what that means to me.”

“Yeah, I do. Maybe I don’t care about much of anything when it comes to you anymore,” he said. You stared at him and dropped your hand away, quickly leaving. You avoided him as much as you could for the day and were grateful you only had two scenes together. When you wrapped for the night and you were getting ready to go out with Nate again, you gathered up your things from your trailer, spotting a cupcake and note on the counter. You picked it up and frowned.

I crossed a line with the runt comment. I’m sorry. It was wrong. Please stay away from Nate. I get a bad vibe from him. 

-J

“At least you got my favorite flavor,” you said. You took a bite and put the rest away in your fridge. You put on your backpack but stopped for a moment and wrote down a note of your own. You ran over next door to the empty trailer and set it down on Jensen’s counter before popping outside and heading over to Nate’s. “Hey.”

“Hey,” he said grumpily, shoving some things in a duffel bag. “Listen, I just got fired so-”

“Fired? For what?” you said.

“I don’t think your friend likes me very much,” he said. “It’s whatever. I’m flying back to LA tonight. Maybe I’ll see you around someday Y/N.”

He jogged out of his trailer and you shook your head. You walked outside and saw Jensen coming out of hair and makeup with his face washed off.

“What did you do?” you asked, storming straight over to him.

“Bought you a cupcake...I’ll be sure not to make that mistake again,” he said, rolling his eyes.

“Nate was just fired he said.”

“Good.”

“Good? Did you get-”

“Wow. No, I didn’t. I’m glad to see you think so little of me. Outside of a scene, don’t talk to me,” he said. He left and you stood there, throwing up your hands.

“Oh my God, Y/N! Did you hear?” asked Shelby as she came out of the makeup trailer. 

“Nate got fired? Yeah,” you said.

“I’d have kicked his ass,” she said. You raised an eyebrow and she made a face. “The PA? Inappropriate touching?”

“He did what?” you asked.

“Oh he got way handsy with one of the PA’s. Eighteen years old. One of the grips caught him cornering her and he nearly decked him right then and there,” she said. “He’ll be lucky if she doesn’t press charges let alone act again.”

“That’s too bad. She’s okay?” you asked.

“Yeah. It didn’t go like, bad or anything but dude’s a creep,” she said. 

“Sounds like it,” you said quietly.

“I think production might get shutdown the rest of the week while they find a replacement. I’m sure you’ll find out before the rest of us,” she said. You nodded and she gave you a smile. “You okay? You seem different lately.”

“Yeah. Just not used to long days again,” you said. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow if we still have work, okay?”

“Sure thing,” she said. You walked over to the parking lot, catching Jensen waiting by your car with your note in his hand. Slowly you made your way over, Jensen kicking at the pavement. 

“I heard why Nate got fired,” you said.

“I had a bad feeling about him and you didn’t believe me,” he said, holding up the note. “Fucks sake, Y/N. I’m not jealous of him either okay because I know how your head works.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t want you to get hurt,” he said. You reached for your door handle and he moved in front of it. “Why are you so angry at me? You won’t even talk to me.”

“I’m not angry at you, Jensen. I’m...I can date and be with whoever I want to. I can go out after work without you. We’re co-workers. It’s all we are,” you said. “It’s all we can be.”

“It’s been two months. Why can’t-”

“Because it still hurts me to see your face as pathetic as that sounds. I wish it didn’t. I wish I could pretend we are exactly as we were and go back to that. But I’m not capable of it. I told you. I need time and space if I’m ever going to get back there with you and two months isn’t enough time for me.”

“Not everything is about you. Don’t even bother,” he said.

“Don’t bother what?” you said.

“We’re co-workers. It’s all we’re ever going to be,” he said. He left and headed for his car, leaving the note behind.

“I see you skimmed over the part about me apologizing for how I acted,” you said.

“You skimmed over that part of mine. Fair is fair,” he said. “You know what? Lose my number. Don’t talk to me outside of a set anymore.”

You got in your car and headed for home, hoping that the movie got delayed indefinitely.

Three Days Later

“Hey!” said Ruthie to you out on the hotel patio. You looked up from your phone, Ruth sitting down in the chair across from you. “I haven’t seen you all convention long! What are you doing out here?”

“Enjoying the fresh air,” you said, forcing a smile.

“I see,” she said. You went back to your phone only for her to steal it away from you. “Texting a new friend?”

“No. I was reading,” you said, taking it back.

“You wouldn’t happen to be out here because of you and the boys not getting along, hm?” she asked. 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you said.

“You’ve been noticeably absent from the group chat,” she said. “And not hanging out with the guys, especially Jensen.”

“Been busy.”

“With what? Unemployment?”

“Our movie is only shut down a few months. I’m taking the vacation time,” you said. “Discovering new things.”

“What happened?”

“Nothing!” you said.

“Fine, fine,” she said. “Bri and I are going to have a drink after the show tonight in my room. Your attendance is mandatory.”

“Why aren’t you going out with the guys?”

“Because you need a girls night and so do we,” she said. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Do you still…” said Bri well after midnight and more than a few drinks. “Love him?”

“Yes,” you said, knocking back your margarita. “I don’t even want to anymore. It just hurts like everyday and it’s so pathetic. I thought pushing him away would make it go away and I thought trying to move onto another guy would work but I still want him. I don’t know why I can’t get over him. I’ve dated before. I don’t know why…”

“When you say you love him, do you mean love him right now or I could imagine the rest of everything with him love him?” asked Ruth.

“I’m so stupid,” you said, sliding down on the bed, pulling a pillow over your face. “We weren’t even together! Why am I so upset?”

“Because you love him bad. Like in deep,” said Bri. “He really said he thought of you guys as just friends?”

“Yes. I miss him. I want my best friend back,” you said, pulling away the pillow. Ruth handed you a few tissues and you wiped off your face, all three of your heads turning when you heard a knock at the door. 

“It’s probably the guys,” said Bri. She was out of her seat and you watched her peek the door open a crack. “What? It’s late.”

“We know,” said Rich and Rob. “We got to talk about this Jensen and Y/N situation.”

“No, we don’t. They’re adults,” she said.

“Well Jensen just drunkenly confessed to being in love with her and how he messed up. I think we at least have to get the two of them in a room together to sort this whole thing out,” said Rob.

“Jensen said what?” you said, rushing over to the door. 

“Oh great. She’s been crying,” said Rich, running his hand over his face. 

“What’d he say?” you asked.

“That he misses you and he thinks he might be in love with you and you got to take this all with a grain of salt. He drank a lot,” said Rob. 

“Where’s he now?” you asked.

“His room. He’s not...save the conversation for when he’ll remember it?” said Rich. You nodded and turned back to the girls. 

“Should I say anything?” you asked.

“I honestly don’t know,” said Ruth. “Maybe sleep on it and decide in the morning?”

“Yeah, that’s probably the best idea,” you said. “I’m going to head back to my room.”

“We’ll walk you,” said Rich.

“Thanks,” you said. A moment later you were in the hall, the guys going up a floor with you in the elevator. 

“From a guy’s perspective,” said Rob. “We can be really dumb. Like it’s amazing how dumb we can be. Give him a chance when you talk to him.”

“He doesn’t understand what falling in love is. I can’t explain that to him,” you said.

“Maybe you have different definitions of love,” he said. You blinked and they both shrugged. “There’s a reason this stuff is complicated.”

“Tell me about it,” you said when the doors opened. “I’m right here,” you said, pointing at a door. “Night guys.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You entered the room and lay down on your bed, staring at the ceiling. 

He was drunk and he’d missed you. It’s all there was to it in your opinion.

Three Weeks Later

“Sounds good,” you said, hanging up with your agent. The movie was back on at the start of the next year and in the meantime, you’d gotten another voice acting gig. You felt happy about that for the first time in a while. Slowly things were getting better. Avoiding Jensen had helped. You still caught yourself wanting to send him a funny video or talk to him about something during your day but you knew you’d get there. All you’d needed was a good cry session with your friends it seemed.

There was a knock on your door and you got up for your pizza, smiling as you skipped into the foyer.

You pulled it open and found Jensen there, a blank look on his face. He stepped inside and grabbed your face, giving you a remarkably gentle kiss that went on and on. He broke it off when there was a grunt and your pizza guy was standing there. You took the food in a haze and shut the door, setting it down on the counter.

“What…” you said, Jensen getting right in your face. 

“I have loved you from the second I met you. I have loved you from the week after that and the week after that and I knew deep down there was no going back. You were it. Always.”

“If you loved me then why-”

“Because I want better for you. I don’t want a life where you’re alone because I’m off working over here or you’re working over there. I want you to have everything you deserve and that is a better man than me.”

“I know you, Ackles. If it were just that, you would have told the truth. What is it,” you said. He closed his eyes and his shoulders sagged.

“I had an anomaly in my blood work at my last checkup a few months ago,” he said.

“Jensen. What are you saying…”

“My blood work showed I was sick. Dying kind of sick,” he said. 

“Oh, you dumbass,” you said, giving him a hug. It was tight and he returned it, running his hand up and down your back. “Jensen.”

“I couldn’t say it when I thought I wasn’t gonna be around in a few years. I couldn’t do that to you,” he said. You squeezed him harder and he shushed you. “S’okay. I’m okay.”

“No, you’re not. You said...I wasted all that time-”

“I’ve had a lot of tests done. Some here. Some in LA. They were looking for the cause. Jared’s the only one aside from my family that knew. It’s why he was so pissed with you when we fought but I swore him to secrecy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked. 

“I was afraid. Of everything. You pitying me. Leaving me. Of me telling you the truth and setting you up for some kind of horrible heartbreak,” he said. “But in all those doctor’s genius attempts to find something, they never thought to take another blood sample. They kept reusing the same one over and over.”

“What are you saying?” you asked.

“I’m saying I’ve spent the past four months thinking I was dying when they had the wrong blood. It was someone else’s. They couldn’t find anything wrong because there is nothing wrong. I’m perfectly healthy. The only problem I have is finding a new doctor. I found out half an hour ago and drove straight here,” he said.

“So to summarize you thought you were dying and denied you loved me so that I wouldn’t have to be upset when it happened?”

“I know I hurt you. I know...it was easier to push your buttons and push you away than let us be something else and have it ripped away from you so soon. I thought this way would hurt less than the other,” he said.

“You really are a dumbass,” you said with a smile. “You should have told me.”

“I know,” he said. “I wanted to protect you.”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know what I meant when I said love is more than attraction?”

“Absolutely. But playing stupid seemed like a good idea at the time,” he said. You rested your head on his shoulder, Jensen’s arms wrapped around you. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” you said. “I’m mad at you for lying and I’m sorry for pushing you away just as much. I just want it back to the way it was.”

“Maybe we can try something different?” he said. You cocked your head and he kissed you again, smiling when you held up a finger.

“Different is good,” you said, Jensen looking you up and down. “I’m still mad at you.”

“Okay,” he smiled.

“Still mad.”

“Okay,” he said again, taking off his coat and shoes.

“Inviting yourself over, hm?” you said.

“For sure,” he said. “You even got dinner for us already.”

“Jensen, it’s not all fixed like that.”

“Okay,” he said, kissing you one more time. “I’m going to keep doing that in the meantime.”

“Hey,” you said, grabbing his hand. “You have a scare like that, you call me. I don’t care if you got an hour left and we had the biggest fight in the world. Call me.”

“I was getting close to cracking regardless of the test results. I heard I may have mentioned something at the last con to a few people.”

“You did. Let’s just hang out and eat pizza like we did the first time you came over my place?” you asked. “Try to be friends again?”

“Yeah. I really missed you, Y/N.”

Three hours later you were laying on your couch watching a movie, snuggled up under a blanket. You titled your head back and Jensen gave you a soft smile, his arm over your waist pulling you back into his chest more. He kissed your temple and you thought back to the hundred million times you’d done this same thing before.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” you asked. 

“Because I didn’t know how you felt and the idea of losing you was horrifying. I have had plenty of girlfriends before. I’ve only felt this once and I’m not letting it go,” he said.

“Spend the night,” you said.

“I’ve been drinking. I probably should crash on the couch,” he said. You shook your head and gave him a smile. “Oh. In the...should we really dive into that right away?”

“I just want you close by,” you said. “Nothing more than innocent cuddling for now.”

“I’m very much up for that,” he said. You turned off the movie and grabbed his hand, pulling him down into your bedroom. “All the times I’ve been over here, I’ve never actually seen your room.”

“I know it’s kinda girly,” you said, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“It’s relaxing,” he said with a smile. “I like it much better than my room.”

“Isn’t your house like gorgeous?” you asked.

“I moved,” he said. “About 4,000 square feet now versus the eight.”

“Oh. Well you’re like everybody else now, aren’t you?” you teased. He chuckled and you got an extra blanket out of your closet, Jensen spotting your weighted blanket on the bed.

“Too much house for just me. Never cared for it much. This one is simpler. More of a blank canvas,” he said, taking the soft blanket you knew he liked when he slept on the couch. “How’s your anxiety lately?”

“Not great,” you said. “Better but not great. You’re crap pilled on top of…”

“Top of what?” he asked.

“My dad got released,” you said, sitting on the bottom of the bed. Jensen sat down beside you and you sighed. “It’s been twenty five years, Jay. He got out.”

“Are you scared?”

“No. He’s up in Maine and he has diabetes and cancer,” you said. “He’s in the process of dying.”

“The runt comment,” said Jensen and you nodded. “Y/N, I’m sorry I ever said that.”

“S’not your fault my dad was crappy to my mom and me,” you said. He took your hand in his and laced your fingers together. “She was really happy when she met Charlie. He’s exactly what she needed.”

“He’s what you needed too. You got a real dad and even your little brother a few years later. I’m sorry you had to spend five in a not so great place,” he said.

“Never lie to me again,” you said.

“I promise,” he said. 

“You’re really okay?” you asked.

“Yes. For the hundredth time, I am perfectly healthy. I watched them draw the blood and take it straight into the lab myself.”

“You should call your parents,” you said. “Let them know the good news.”

“It’s late for them,” he said. “I’ll call first thing. Do you mind if I take off my jeans?”

“Of course not. It’s not like I’ve seen you in your underwear before,” you said. He stood and kicked them off as you excused yourself into your bathroom. You exited in a pair of shorts and shirt, Jensen spreading the blanket out over one side of the bed. You walked around and climbed under the sheets, Jensen following after. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said. You flipped off the light and the room was quiet. Jensen shifted and your head turned, Jensen’s face closer now. You rolled onto your side and rested your cheek on the pillow, Jensen glancing down. “I’m sorry.”

“I know. You thought you were stopping me from a worse kind of pain. Never do anything like that again and you’re forgiven.”

“I won’t,” he said. “It was a dumb split second decision.”

“It’s okay. I still like you. I’m sorry for how I acted too. I never should have shoved you out of my life for thinking you didn’t have feelings.”

“It hurt and you needed space and time. We would have come back together,” he said. “We did.”

“Because you found out you weren’t sick.”

“I was coming over tonight no matter what the test said.”

“Why?”

“Because I can’t imagine how shitty I’d feel if you didn’t love me back. When I heard you talking to Jared...I’d never felt that happy before. Something about you is just...special.”

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you teased. You leaned over and kissed him quickly. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Looking forward to it, sweetheart.”

_______

[moribundanchor]

The Pelle/Dani Receipts, Post Six: Dani’s Birthday Plot

[tents fingers]

Now, Pelle finally has Dani all to himself. Yessssss. And he wastes exactly NO TIME passing to her an unfolded piece of paper he’s been keeping tucked away, with a nose scrunch (I’m sorry, it’s adorable) and a soft, surprise “Hey. Happy birthday.” Yes, Dani, someone remembered. Actually, someone spent a good deal of time carefully drawing a beautifully realized pencil portrait of you, complete with a flower crown and runes. Someone has been thinking about you kind of a lot, girlfriend of someone’s friend. How do you think he drew that? From memory? Do you think he has pictures of you? Anyway, Dani is thrilled and surprised and just so happy, which is also kind of telling. Real talk: he has effectively cornered her and privately given her a fairly personal gift, which he will encourage her to keep secret (more on that in a second). If she weren’t receptive, it could be creepy or at least awkward. If she weren’t into it, can you imagine how weird the rest of the festival could be? And this is the first day. But you are into it, aren’t you, Dani?

“It’s just something I do for birthdays,” Pelle smiles, and then he hesitates, as though the thought has just occurred to him. “Maybe it’s not appropriate?” Okay, Pelle, sweetie, forgiving the fact that were you actually concerned about whether it was appropriate to give her this, you probably would have mentioned it to Christian and/or not taken scrupulous care to give it to her on the downlow, why wouldn’t it be appropriate to give this gift? Because it could be construed as romantic, of course. Because it is pretty darn romantic. This is how I see you, Dani. But in asking Dani whether it’s appropriate, master manipulator Pelle is using the rhetorical device of apophasis, suggesting something by not suggesting it, basically, “Here’s a romantic thing, Dani. Do you mind? It’s not romantic.” SURE, PELLE. And then he suggests that they keep it “just between us.” Okay, Pelle, so if it’s an appropriate gift, offered purely in the spirit of friendship, no big, you’d do it for Ingemar or Josh, why keep it secret? His rhetorical moves here swing from denial to affirmation, throwing out mixed signals like a motherfucker to both assure Dani of his feelings and continue to provide plausible deniability. 

But then, Dani gamely accepts his terms, agreeing to keep the portrait between them...like that's no big deal. Consider for a moment what is implicit there. Christian can’t know. Why can’t Christian know? Is it because Christian is unusually jealous? There’s no evidence of that; he just left his girl alone with Pelle. It’s because this is the first (that we know of) exchange in an emotional affair, and while Pelle has given her plenty of plausible deniability, Dani isn’t even tentative about it. Yes, this is our secret. Remember how happy she was talking to Pelle on the couch in New York.

Then Dani, smiling as genuinely as she only does for Pelle, confides in him that Christian forgot anyway. So, not only does she alleviate Pelle of any suggestion of inappropriateness--which is less accepting that it isn’t a romantic gift and more that she tacitly accepts the gift with all its implications--she directly compares Pelle remembering her birthday to Christian forgetting it. This moment gets glossed over in favor of Pelle’s much more overt seduction of Dani, but please notice: Dani is comfortable with admitting something that personal about her relationship with Christian to Pelle. If he were just an acquaintance, if he were closer to Christian than Dani, why would she tell him that? It would be embarrassing to her and awkward for him as Christian’s buddy. Exact words: “Christian forgot anyway so this [portrait] is amazing.” Christian forgot, you remembered, 1 point to Team Hårga. Not to mention telegraphing your relationship woes to a man who just gave you a romantic gift is a considerably less subtle signal than Pelle’s apophasis. We’re not suggesting that Dani is unambiguously, consciously, deliberately lighting her signal fire for Pelle here...but witness. The signal fire done got lit. 

One more important bit about this scene. As we will point out over and over, Dani mirrors Pelle and the other Hårgans a lot, but also notice that when Dani shares that Christian forgot, Pelle perfectly mirrors Dani’s stunned/upset “oh” when he failed to condole her on the couch in New York. Like her “oh,” Pelle’s clunks loudly to the floor between them, interrupting their whole ambiguously flirty groove, but, for Dani/Christian severance purposes, it’s important he does this. Constitutionally empathetic as he is, Pelle could easily buffer the awkwardness of the moment, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t do anything to help Dani rationalize Christian forgetting. He simply reflects back to her discomfort and shock that Christian could be so callous of her feelings, leaving Dani to inadequately flail for excuses. In the end, she can’t excuse him, and so she re-ups her appreciation for Pelle’s gift once again, but she will leave that scene not only knowing Pelle cares, but having been forced to acknowledge, if only to herself, that Christian apparently doesn’t. Nice work, Mr. Pelle.

But Pelle is not done. Not our soft sweet cultboy. Skipping ahead to Pelle showing everyone the Youth House, he takes Christian aside at his first opportunity. We aren’t privy to a lot of his conversation, as the camera follows Dani to the wall of portraits of the May Queens, but we do catch the very end, up close and out of focus, as Dani also seems to key in on their talking covertly. Christian is aghast, as Pelle is telling him that he has forgotten Dani’s birthday. He asks Pelle if Dani said anything. And this is when Pelle tells one of his very few direct lies in all of Midsommar, assuring Christian that Dani didn’t mention it. This is important. Ari Aster blurs a lot of what Pelle knows when, but he wants us to know something unambiguously here, a rarity for this film: this isn’t a kindness gone awry. Pelle is setting Christian up. [grabs megaphone] PELLE IS SETTING CHRISTIAN UP. When Dani interrupts them with a question, Pelle nods and gestures significantly toward the bed before joining her, showing Christian something we can’t see.

As Pelle explains the May Queen dance competition, Christian gathers himself and then he asks Dani if she can join him outside, hiding something behind his back. Cue off-key happy birthday serenade and Christian trying to light a candle with a bad lighter. The cake, candle, and lighter could only have been provided by Pelle. That is presumably what he’s pointing out to Christian on the bed before he moves over to Dani by the May Queen photographs. It’s orchestrated to be obvious to Dani that Pelle is the real person behind the gesture, because Christian would have had no opportunity to arrange it. And of course, she saw them talking right before. After Pelle’s thoughtfulness, it will be obvious to her, and Pelle’s cover-story of arranging this to save Christian’s forgetful hide just makes it all the more apparent that he forgot. So Pelle might look like he tried to be a good friend to Christian, but he’s clearly presenting himself as a much better friend, maybe more, to Dani. 

We also headcanon that Pelle made the lighter intentionally bad by emptying most of the fluid, thus making Christian’s insincere gesture all the shittier. The fact that he has to flounder with the bad lighter just underlines that he hasn’t prepared at all. Meanwhile, in the background, several Hårgan women sway and soothe a baby, foreshadowing the way Dani will be comforted when Christian betrays her in the Maja impregnating ritual.

For more, click on The Pelle/Dani Receipts Masterpost

[supercharmed-forever-mine]

On the rating of 10, how do you rate the writing of each legacies characters, why and who deserves better? What aspects should be improved?

I updated some of the opinion for clarity and also added Finch because I forgot her originally

I'll just make a list and go down it and I'm sorry in advance I love responding but I'm horrible at grammar/punctuation and also I might tend to ramble but I'll try to be as concise as possible. It should also be noted anything I state that might possibly relate to ships is a personal opinion and I have nothing against any ships/characters gay or straight/Good or Evil. However would it be said that I definitely mean more towards the gay/Badass with a Golden heart side of shipping with any fandom.

Hope Mikaelson- As of now I would rate her writing at about a 6. And I only say that because as we know a majority of her characters personality slightly has always but this season especially related to her relationship with Landon. And I wish we would see the Badass Tribrid Hope we've been promised since season 1 I mean sure there are no lack of examples of her bravery and martyrdom. But I am tired of her always feeling down on herself and like she's a cosmic mistake when it has literally been proven by Lizzie's wish in season 1 that their life would be infinitely shittier without her. What they can do to improve it is have her focus on friendship and herself instead of trying to always focus on Landon. She deserves more than just to be a boy obsessed character I mean she's the daughter of Klaus F****** Mikaelson for Pete sakes she literally descends from the most powerful supernatural family ever to exist and is rightfully the most powerful being on the f****** planet.

Note: I found Handon's relationship cutesy in season 1 but now not so much especially since they use him dying as a plot line way too often it just doesn't have the same effect that used to***

Josie Saltzman-As of now I would rate her writing at about an 8. I like how her character at least for a while had her own storyline going off the mystic falls High School plotline and how she lived with delena because it was a good call back for us TVD fans but I think it could have definitely lasted longer than a few episodes. We all know it was just used as a lot device to introduce Ethan as a series regular and as an introduction for her to Finch's character. But overall I feel throughout the seasons she has experienced at least some personal growth as exhibited even in 3x15 where she admitted she has to stop saying sorry especially to Lizzie for not always jumping to do what she needs / she wants all the time. Whereas before Android AU version aside because she literally had to do what she was programmed to do. She has an exhibited that she's starting to do what she needs to do for Josie before others most of the time or she's trying to. And as far as her relationship to Finch well I don't see them being endgame I have no problem with them and I do see Finch being one of her major loves of the series that teaches her whatever lesson she needs that leads her to whoever her endgame love is. With her relationships I will always miss Posie and I wish they could get Lulu back at least just for one episode. Also I feel these last two episodes of the girls being a trio they have a really Been serving Hosie with the looks but also I feel like in general Josie and Hope have been really in f****** tune. In conclusion I just don't know because Kaylee's acting skills and just turning general I would rate a billion she could choke me and I would literally thank her.

Lizzie Saltzman-as of now I would rate her at about a 7. I feel as if she has had great personal growth over the series and hell even this season. I also like hell despite everything in her life especially her eternal struggle with her mental illness she is always trying to do better and not just for herself but mainly for others and some people would say that's not good but I like it because it truly shows what she stated in 1x03 during the gargoyle incident that she never wants to be the bad or evil one. She has all this s*** thrown at her being called broken, being seen as the lesser than sister, and not to mention the absentee parents. Yet through all this she manages to only get stronger especially once she builds a genuine friendship with hope. However what I will say is that I don't like the regression of her friendship with Hope in correlation to her progress of especially her mental illness. And what I mean by that is it's almost been shown that once she had even the seeds of a true friendship with Hope that Hope would never give up on her hell not but like even an episode or two into their newly formed friendship in S1 Hope went to Josie when she Lizzie was on the verge of a bad episode and "sweet" Josie was basically like fuck her she needs to fall on her ass for once and Hope ass was appalled y'all she was like Lizzie can't control her brain chemistry and was so defensive/protective it's like once they got over that hurdle that mainly Josie gave them everything clicked into place and they were almost instant bff's. So for them to do so good in season 2 and then it seems like it showed especially in these last several episodes black magic incident to bring Landon back aside that Lizzie's old issues of resentment and jealousy towards hope are starting to come back and I don't like that because the more Lizzie had A Friend in Hope it seems like the better she got at coping and doing better mentally.(sorry if this has been a confusing several sentences). And no by that I do not mean that Lizzie is mental progress has solely relied on Hope but I do think it has helped significantly for her to have a true friend. Also let it be noted now out of every ship though I should Hosie too HIZZIE is my #1 ship on Legacies two phenomenally beautiful woman also the enemies to friends to lovers trope *chef's kiss*which might be plausible as I always wondered what they meant in the Hosie crush confession scene of season 1 when Josie said that she always went after everybody josie liked hinting that Lizzie might be at least bisexual or maybe that was just what Josie perceived at like 12/13 years old. Also on the note of relationships Mizzie was a cute concept at the beginning but I do love the fact that MG is finally finding himself and standing up for himself but he did also do it and I kind of a******-ish way towards Lizzie. And that's all I can say for her. Actually I could probably write a novel on this women and also Hizzie but I won't lol.

Alaric Saltzman- As of now I would give him a rating of like a 4 . In the last several episodes I think he's been trying to make progress at being a better person but that's about all I can say I'm not an anti. But he definitely will not be winning the father of the year award anytime soon and like many people have pointed out he was a great guardian to Elena and Jeremy so he has the potential in parenting he obviously just ain't using it or lost it over the decades. I don't hate him but I do believe they're doing a discredit towards the better man he was in The vampire Diaries especially at the beginning.

Landon Kirby-His writing is like a 3. He is just there to be arm candy for hope. Until the last couple episodes where he became this for once realistic not optimistic hardened badass he literally brought nothing to The season other than someone for Hope to obsess over. And to be someone that they repeatedly kill for shock value even though it literally shocks no one anymore. I don't hate his character but he doesn't tickle My Fancy as much anymore. His character has a lot of potentialy especially if they ever bring back in his Phoenix side and truly explore it beyond his almost endless ability to revive and being a "Bird Boy" lol. I mean truthfully they're doing him a disservice Aria is a phenomenal actor who could take his character places if they just let him be more than a basic ass plot device. Also can we talk about how gorgeous of a man Aria is especially in these last few episodes looking love it and fine as f***.

As it has become apparent to me I ramble too much and I just don't have the capacity as it is now almost 1:00 in the morning my time to do anymore characters in depth so I will be doing a simple excerpt for the rest now that I have done the main 5 people.

Kaleb Hawkins- His writing is a 8. I do like how he's coming to himself over the years and is a a right hand man to Alaric now instead of being just a uncontrollable vampire(the only hate on this part not towards Kaleb but Alaric is that it shows he will virtually mentor/uplift almost any teen that ain't his own daughters). Though in my opinion he always kind of had a point on some things especially about the hypocrisy of Alaric in season 1 especially on the bmood drinking thing. Him and Mg's relationship is awesome I'm glad they made up in the last episode and our brothers again. Also I was rooting for him and Cleo I think they would be a cute little couple. Also I need his backstory immediately especially after saying to Cleo the last time he was vulnerable he died I need to know how he turned.

Milton Greasley(MG)- His writing is a 9 the season. I say that because he is really came into his own and stopped being the punching bag. Though I think the idea or used to think at least that him and Lizzie would be cute together I am proud of him for standing up to Lizzie finally even though I liked him always being there for her I was tired of him being a fallback for her when it didn't work with whoever however I do think he could have went about the rejection a little bit gentler especially with how he knows of Lizzie's emotional problems. And don't even get me started on Alyssa that was just a disaster that should have never even been brought to fruition her cheating with Jed was probably the best thing that could have happened. I liked his little side adventure with Ethan though I do think they could have wrote it a little better I was sad when he had to compel the memories away like they still could have been friends he just couldn't have known about the supernatural stuff also I'm still not convinced Ethan won't become supernatural later in the series if he stays on. And that's all I have to say on that one love my baby.

Jed Tien-His writing I can't really give a writing I don't think it's horrible but I do think overall they could give him a better plot line as a series regular other than just being used for the comical relief eye candy/mentioning how he's the alpha. Though it was funny the whole pool tournament to decide who was alpha will Finch was just exactly that so bad it was laughable. However I do respect the fact that he even admitted to her that he knew she threw the game and that he is a genuine man of his word and has become better over the series from like this dumb jock stereotype to this genuine dude the Alyssa incident aside. He is a cinnamon roll and I will protect him at all cost.

Ethan- Again as he just became a series regular this season and barely showed up in his premiere season. I will not be rating him in any traditional sense. His writing is not totally horrible I liked his adventures with mg they could have been written better and they still could have let him be MG's friend without supernatural knowledge instead of compelling the friendship completely away. And I am still not convinced he will not become supernatural in some way depending on how long he stays in the series truthfully it's actually almost inevitable unless they go the whole route of making him the Matt/Token Human of the show which I really hope they don't I mean he can stay human but don't make him a supernatural hater.

Cleo-her writing is 10. I say that because she has been a phenomenal character and I've never seen the actress before but she is obviously phenomenal as well. I like her whole connection to Malivore and how it's a legitimate one that seems to be interwoven with the story that's already been presented and add something new. I also like how she tried and really wanted to genuinely be friends with all the characters especially hope but at the same time she was also very realistic and new probably and truthfully the only way for Malivore to be defeated was for Hope to Go full Tribrid and she wasn't above actually trying to murder hope to save herself and just get rid of Malivore which I can't blame her.

Malivore-after the end of season 3 / the first couple episodes of season 4 which were supposed to be the original ending to season 3 I better never hear the name again I am so tired of it this should have ended like at least a season ago at this point it's dragging on. This was supposed to be a monster of the week type of series which is okay me personally I have always appreciated having one big bad of the season and then a couple of minor baddies that get their characters arcs and take a few episodes to defeat or something as like a B or C plot. Point being is that this character and plot line has gotten stiff as can be. To be honest I think half of us aren't even here for plot line anymore we just want to see which of our ships get together.

Finch-I am loving her character and I do think she's cute with Josie. Also I stan anyone who is a sarcastic b**** Queen. I think it's nice how her will backstory was different than the traditional one but also I hated how sad it was like she literally didn't even know what she was doing. Though I will say calling Lizzie the "evil" twin that she can fight me because you don't talk about my blonde cinnamon roll like that is based on one impression from something that was only meant and done out of a good place and Lizzie's heart trying to find out her backstory. But other than that I have no real qualms with this character and it is too early to have a real in-depth analysis/opinion of her.

Thank you for reading this long rant hope I answered your question well enough if not PM me on anything specific.

[emblemxeno]

Interesting to see some semblance of Soleil discourse again. I hated her when i played fates, and was genuinly surprised that people really loved her. Do you think a lot of her shittier aspects were from Fates' shoddy translation, or was she always sort of bad?

Sorry for this taking so long! I figured I might as well make this a sort of definitive post about Soleil since I talk about her a lot, so I put some more research and effort into it than I initially planned.

Soleil’s writing does have a lot of differences between the Japanese version and localization, but I have many, many issues with both.

Japanese Soleil

Soleil in the Japanese version of Fates is, to put it simply, a train wreck. As we know, her defining trait is her love of girls. However, with Soleil it goes past attraction and flirting into outright predatory behavior. 

In many of her Japanese supports, Soleil creeps around girls, be it generic girls off-screen, or her female support partners. She hits on her mother in their support, she plans to sneak behind girls and embrace them out of nowhere in her support with Ignatius, and she harasses Ophelia and planned to get a better look at the latter’s figure in the tents when they switched bodies.

But the absolute worst was her Japanese support with Forrest. 

Basically, she’s chasing Forrest around because she’s convinced he’s a girl, despite him telling her over and over that he isn’t. Soleil is extra creepy in this one, saying things like “I can’t hold myself back anymore” and “I won’t do anything bad, so just give in.” Forrest goes so far as to even compare her to a wild animal stalking its prey.

Forrest then tells Soleil once again that he’s a boy, and what does she do? She asks him to prove it by getting naked and bathing with her. Forrest, of course, refuses again. Soleil then finds out from others around camp that Forrest was telling the truth; but she still can’t keep her urges down and keeps making unwanted advances and touches towards him.

That entire support is extreme sexual harassment. It is one of the worst supports I have ever read, especially since it’s played for laughs and it can later advance into an actual relationship between them. Treehouse did realize how bad this support was, and changed it from the ground up into something completely different, which is one of the very few things I will thank them for.

Now, localized Soleil is another beast entirely. Before going into my issues with her localized version, I’ll explain the context behind her trope.

A History Lesson

Soleil’s character at its core is based on the Class S trope. Class S is a Japanese term describing romantic friendships between girls. It’s origin and popularity is owed to things like western women’s literature (such as Little Women) being translated for Japanese audiences back in the early 20th century and the all-women Takarazuka Revue theater being established; these helped cultivate feelings of sisterhood and a sense of romance for young female audiences, especially since most schools at the time in Japane kept boys and girls separate. While there was a decline in the Class S genre after Japanese schools became more co-ed, it has made a resurgence in popularity ever since the late 90′s with light novels like Maria-sama ga Miteru.

Class S had a rather big impact on Japanese society, where it was actually expected to happen and treated as something wonderful for these kinds of close friendships to develop between young girls.

However. These aren’t treated as real romantic relationships. They’re seen as nothing more than a phase. After adolescence, girls are expected to ‘mature’ or ‘graduate’ in a sense, into a real relationship with a man. To still have Class S relationships with other girls when you’re supposed to be in a “real” relationship is seen as a sign of immaturity.

Soleil Herself

So what does this mean with Soleil? Lots of her supports in Japanese have other characters being bewildered or even annoyed by her continued love for girls, because “she’s technically an adult now, shouldn’t she have grown out of that phase?” 

Shigure gets surprised that she’s trying to learn how to sing to impress girls. F!Corrin wonders why she won’t give up her mindset already. Soleil gets jealous of Asugi’s popularity with girls and childishly tries to imitate him. Sophie says she doesn’t have time for Soleil’s antics because the former is trying to be a mature, devoted knight. Ophelia is frustrated that they can’t be “normal” friends instead of Soleil chasing her around and proclaiming her love.

They treat her obsession/love for girls as something childish for an adult woman like her to still have, much like Japanese society does. Soleil is Class S.

Soleil does actually get a chance to technically grow out of this phase, much like adult women are expected to. She ‘graduates’ into adulthood once she becomes romantically involved with her male romance options in the Japanese version; a “real” relationship.

As a gay man, you can probably guess how I feel about this trope. While it has had impact on helping Japan ease up on its more conservative beliefs and lots of Class S media has been created by actual queer women (like Nobuko Yoshiya), it’s still not a great feeling when same sex relationships are basically treated as not real or just a phase in someone’s life. It sucks, especially when I think the Japanese Rhajat/F!Corrin support is one of best in Fates. But enough about me, what does this have to do with localized Soleil?

Where The Localization Fumbled

Since she was already getting her fair share of controversy thanks to the many incorrect reports of conversion therapy during her support with M!Corrin, Treehouse decided to go the whole mile and rewrite some aspects of her character. This included removing the Class S aspect of her, and adding in a line from Laslow (as well as her roster description) that basically confirms she’s bisexual.

Except... they messed it up. They made her apparently bisexual, but they removed the romantic aspect of almost all of her S supports, all of which are dudes. Instead, most of her S supports result in promises of friendship or partnership of some kind. The only romantic S supports she has in the localization are with M!Corrin because Avatar privilege, and Forrest, which can still kind of be taken as platonic.

This doesn’t make sense. Why go out of your way to make Soleil bisexual, but remove her romantic supports with dudes? Her wlw side isn’t suddenly erased if she were to marry a dude, what’s the deal here? Did two different people have a hand in this and just didn’t communicate? Did one intend to make her a lesbian and the other wanted her to be bi? 

This is a huge inconsistency and fumble on Treehouse’s part, one of their biggest. Hell, besides that, they didn’t even remove all of her creepy aspects either; she still creeps on girls in her Ignatius support (she now plans to pinch them instead of embrace them from behind), and while her support with Ophelia was toned down, it still isn’t great. Why go so halfway on this, especially since she’s the most controversial character in the game?

Conclusion & Overview

So yeah, those are my thoughts about Soleil. Her Japanese characterization is a predatory mess and based on a trope which I am not fond of whatsoever, while her localized characterization is only somewhat better as a person and is plagued by a whole slew of new writing problems because her bisexuality just wasn’t done correctly by Treehouse.

Which honestly? It makes me kind of sad. Soleil has a lot of good things about her. I like her shamelessness, her confidence. Her shyness is basically an inverse of Olivia’s, where the latter is shy all the time except when dancing whereas Soleil is only shy and insecure when dancing; it’s a neat full circle for the entire family line. She has a couple of great supports too, like with Laslow and Kiragi. Her design is adorable, she’s a good unit, female mercenaries are always a plus, and her new voice actress in Heroes is one of my favorites. 

It’s just everything else is... bleh. 

I don’t dislike her as much as I did a few months ago, because looking over her supports again endeared her to me a little, but unfortunately she still has too many things about her that I hate for me to say anything better than that.

[just-jordie-things]

The Prom Fic - Richie Tozier

word count: 6281 warnings: swearing, I think that’s it summary: Richie wants nothing more than to go to prom with the girl he likes, but (y/n) can’t stand school dances.  The Losers get involved and make things more difficult.  The answer is simple- Richie and (y/n) are just too stubborn to see it. ___

School dances, in (y/n’s) opinion, were lame.  Very lame.  With the shitty music from the teacher the school always hired to be a DJ, and the even shittier decorating done by the student council, and don’t even get her started on how everyone always acted while at a school dance.

The girls were at their judgiest.  If you didn’t get dressed up, then you were a piece of trash that couldn’t afford it.  But if you looked too good, then you were an attention whore.

And as for the guys, they were just as bad, if not worse.  You were expected to go with someone.  If you didn’t, you were laughed at, and undesirable.  But if you did go with someone, then you were expected to… reward… them.  This was high school.  No way in hell was that acceptable.

“Anyways.  I fucking hate dances, so no, I’m not planning on going to prom” (y/n) finished her rant.

Bill and Eddie, who’d casually asked her if she was planning on going, gave each other a concerned look, which didn’t go unnoticed by their female friend.

“Why?” She asked, setting down the orange she was peeling to give them her attention.  “You weren’t going to ask me, were you?” She asked teasingly, giggling at the idea.

“First of all, ouch, you’d be lucky to go with me, I’m the third nicest guy in our grade,” Eddie joked back, only making her laugh.  “Only behind Bill and Stan of course.  And second of all, no, I was just being polite and asking”

“Y-you’re really n-not gonna g-go?” Bill asked.

“No,” (y/n) shrugged.  “I’m just gonna hang out and enjoy a night off from the drama”

Bill frowned, but shrugged his shoulders.

“So you’re just gonna turn down everyone who asks you?” Eddie asks, and (y/n) narrowed her eyes at the boy.

“Yes?” She answers with a scoff.  “What, do I owe it to a guy to go with them because what, they plucked up the courage to ask me?”

“No!” Eddie practically shrieked.  “No, no of course not- no”

“What’s your guys’ big deal about it anyways? I’ve never gone to dances, it’s never bothered you before” She shrugs her shoulders, and picks apart her orange slices.

“It’s p-prom,” Bill says.  “W-we just thought y-you’d w-want to g-go”

“Right.  Because it’s so important” She spoke sarcastically.

Bill laughs nervously, and finally just let it go. ___

“So?” Richie asked Bill and Eddie when they came out of the cafeteria.  “Did you talk to her?”

Bill sighed, and nodded.  His silence was unsettling, and Richie just about shook his friend’s shoulders to beg for more information.

“Well? What’d she fuckin’ say? Does she want to go?”

“No she doesn’t wanna fucking go,” Eddie rolled his eyes.  “Jesus, Richie, she hates school functions.  I had to sit and listen to every little thing she hates about them the whole lunch period-”

“Did you ask about me?” Richie asked, not caring so much about Eddie’s waste of time.  “Did you tell her that I want to-”

“N-no,” Bill was the one to cut him off this time.  “Sh-she really doesn’t w-want to g-go, Richie,” He explained.  “If w-we’d said that y-you were interested, sh-she would have j-just been off-offended”

Richie furrowed his brows, not understanding at all.

You see, he’d had this crush on (y/n) for quite some time now- as in, he’s liked her since they were children.  She’s always been a special part of the Loser’s Club, and since the day Richie had met her he knew that she was special to him too.  There was a spark to her that brought out the best in him, something that made him always want to make her smile and laugh, and bring out the best in her as well.

It had been nine years of knowing her, and he still wasn’t sure how she felt about him.  She would blush and giggle when he’d flirt with her, and sometimes she’d flirt back, but even then he couldn’t tell if she was messing with him.  There had been multiple occasions where she’d cuddled up to him as well- during scary movies, or at the quarry when she gets cold- and Richie had to try not to read into it, because those seemed like valid reasons for cuddling.

However, (y/n) had never really hinted at feeling anything more than friendship.  And although her touches were like fire to his skin, he was pretty sure they were platonic.

And yet, this didn’t diminish his desire to take her to the prom.

He really, really wanted to ask her.  He wanted to dance with her, and hold her hand, and buy her a corsage- he’d never wanted any of these things before.  Before (y/n), he’d barely even paid attention to girls.  And now, he wanted nothing more than to live out the fantasy of holding her on the dance floor.

“She hates it that much?” He asked, disheartened at the news.

He’d known she didn’t particularly like school dances… but he’d hoped that she’d feel at least a little desire to go to the prom.  It was a high school tradition after all… and Richie had crossed his fingers that if she’d heard that he wanted to go with her, then she’d agree, but the look on Bill and Eddie’s faces told him there wasn’t a chance.

“Yeah…” Bill mumbled, trailing off awkwardly.

He felt bad, because he knew how badly Richie had wanted this.  But (y/n) had made it painfully clear about her own feelings.  He did wonder though, if she would have changed her mind had she known Richie wanted to ask her.

“M-maybe you should t-talk to her y-yourself,” Bill suggested.  “M-maybe she w-would want to g-go if she knew it was y-you taking her”

“Really? Cause it sounds like she fucking hates all men-” Eddie started, but Bill shoved his elbow into the shorter boy’s ribs to get him to shut up.

Richie shook his head, not knowing what else to say.

“Thanks for trying” He mumbled, not meaning to sound insincere, because he really did appreciate his friends talking to her for him.  He was just so disappointed by the news that (y/n) wanted nothing to do with the prom.

With that, he gave them a weak wave and said something about seeing them later in class, and then head off in the opposite direction.

He tried not to let it ruin his day, he tried to focus on anything, even his homework, to get (y/n) off his mind.  But it was damn near impossible when she was the center of all of his thoughts.  And barely a minute could pass before she crossed his mind. ___

On the other hand, (y/n) hadn’t thought too much about her lunch with Bill and Eddie.  It was odd that they’d practically interrogated her about the prom, but they were weird boys, and she brushed it off as just another strange boy thing.

Sure, she knew all her friends would be going, but just because your friends jump off a bridge, doesn’t mean you should too… right?

Shaking her head of the thought, she went back to putting her books away for the day.  There was no way she was going to have second thoughts about something as pointlessly mundane as prom.

She reminded herself of all the reasons she hated it.

Expensive dress you’ll only wear once.

The humiliating crowning of king and queen, reminding the entire senior class of their social status.  More specifically, their low spot on the totem of popularity.

The shitty food.  The shitty decorations.  The shitty music.

This seemed to do the trick, as she felt more uplifted about the situation.

Just as she was about to shut her locker and leave for the day, her eyes landed on a familiar face, and she waved the boy down.

Richie, still feeling disappointed, wanted to pretend he hadn’t seen her.  But her bright eyes met his and his feet were taking him to her before he could come up with an escape plan.

“Hey, trashmouth,” (y/n) grinned, shutting her locker and leaning against it.  “Barely saw you today, I thought maybe you ditched,”

Richie didn’t say anything, just chuckled and shook his head.

(y/n’s) brow furrowed for a moment at his odd silence, but she just as quickly neutralized her expression and leaned her back against her locker.

“But I knew you wouldn’t ditch without me” She adds as an afterthought, a smile tugging on her lips.

“Course not,” Richie answered.  “Wouldn’t be much fun”

Her smile seemed to widen, even though the kind words didn’t exactly come out as soft as they sounded.  He seemed bored, like he was itching to walk away from her, and she could tell.

“You alright?” (y/n) asked, because she wasn’t exactly one to tiptoe around the obvious.  “You seem off”

“It’s nothing,” Richie shook his head.  “Look I gotta get going, I told Mike I’d head out to his place after school.  I’ll catch up with you later”

And before (y/n) could call out for him to come back, or rush to catch up with him, Richie had practically darted away, taking long and fast strides towards the doors.

She couldn’t help but scoff for a moment, standing still at her locker while her mind whirled with thoughts of what the hell she could’ve done to make him ditch her like that.

Richie had never been upset with her before, and it knocked her off her feet to think he’d been pissed off by something she didn’t even know she’d done.

(Unfortunately it hadn’t even crossed her mind that his behavior was linked to the strange behavior of the other boys today.) ___

“And then he just- he just left me there,” (y/n) said with a frustrated groan.

Stan, who was equally frustrated, not for her sake, but because he was so very done with this conversation, rolled his eyes so far back into his head it actually kind of hurt.

“Can you believe that? He’s never been so pissed with me before, and I don’t even know what I did Stan”

The two always sat together in the library during their shared free period.  Usually they just helped each other out with their homework, but today, (y/n) was too preoccupied with Richie’s bullshit to even open up her backpack.  It dawned on Stan that if he didn’t get involved, then this ‘(y/n) and Richie’ drama would never be resolved.

“Probably wasn’t your fault,” Stan lied, knowing fully well why Richie was weird yesterday.  “I heard he got rejected”

“Rejected?” (y/n) repeated, her voice faltering a bit on the word.

Richie had asked someone out? Back up even further, he’d liked someone?

Her change in demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Stan.  The way she blinked slowly, and shrunk back in her seat.  The way her voice quietened, and she’d barely even been able to say the word.  He could almost see the gears in her head spinning, wondering why Richie hadn’t told her this himself.

“Yeah,” He shrugged.  “I don’t know all the details.  He didn’t say much about it.  Just a girl he wanted to ask to the dance who said no”

Her eyes met his for a moment, and Stan hoped that she hadn’t put two and two together and realized he was bending the truth.  (y/n) was smart, she was smart enough to figure out he was talking about her.

But her jealousy betrayed her, and clouded the big picture, as all she could focus on was that Richie had liked someone.  Someone that wasn’t her, as she’d previously hoped thought.

“Why didn’t he tell me?” She asked wearily.

Stan wanted to smile, he felt so damn proud.  (y/n) looked like she could just cry.  He couldn’t wait to tell the others of this accomplishment.

Richie, when you two pluck up the courage and get together, don’t forget to thank me for single handedly doing it for you, he thinks.

“What, does he not trust me?” She asks.  “Because clearly he told you guys.  Probably all you boys.  Probably Bev too!”

Oh fuck, Stan thinks.  

He’d thought too soon.

“Whatever.  Fuck him” (y/n) grumbled, and finally opened up her bag to retrieve her homework.

“Uh- maybe he just- didn’t get the chance, yet?” Stan desperately tries to fix his mistake.

“He had the chance yesterday.  He didn’t even bother,” (y/n) shakes her head, and begins to work on her Calculus sheet.  “Clearly we weren’t as fucking close as I thought” She adds, sounding less angry, and more sad.

She writes so hard on the paper that the tip of her pencil snaps, and rips through the sheet.  Her loud groan earns a ‘hush!’ from the librarian.

Stan fucked up.  He fucked up real bad.  

His pride instantly melted into guilt, and he knew he couldn’t do anything about it.  He couldn’t tell (y/n) the truth at this point, and later, when he knew Richie, or one of the others asks what’s wrong with her, he’ll have to admit what he did.

And that was just gonna piss Richie off more.

This was bad. ___

Richie was still let down by the fact that he wouldn’t be going to the prom with (y/n), but after a night talking to Mike, he felt a fraction of a bit better.

Mike was his go-to for talking about (y/n).  The others tended to just tease him, and while Ben was kinder, he always pushed Richie to make a move, which just wasn’t an option.  Mike, however, listened.  He listened to anything Richie had to share.  Even if it was just that her hair looked pretty today, or that he was so in love with her it hurt, Mike was there.

On multiple occasions, Mike had told Richie to stop being a pussy and ask her out.  He’d said it kindly, and he’d said it pleadingly, because some nights it was so obvious that Richie would just die if (y/n) were to fall for anyone else.

But after years of these talks, Mike knew Richie wouldn’t make a move.  It was harsh, sure, but it had been so long, and the boy’s feelings only grew stronger, and still, he never did anything about it.  He knew it must be painful, so he did what he could to help Richie vent about his hidden emotions, like the good friend he was.

So today, Richie felt like a part of the weight on his shoulders was lifted.  And with that, came the plan to find (y/n) and apologize for how he’d acted yesterday.  He knew he’d irked her, ditching her after school so abruptly, and he didn’t want any bad blood between them.  Ever.

That afternoon, he was the one to approach her at her locker.

When he appeared, leaning against the wall of metal doors next to her, she cast him a glance, and then hastily turned away.

“What?” She asked, the single word a snap on her tongue.

It caught Richie off guard.  He knew he hadn’t treated her fairly, but he didn’t think she’d be that pissed about it.

“I came to uh, apologize” He answered, sounding unsure, because the look on her face made him think that something else was wrong.  She couldn’t be this visibly upset with him over one little weird patch, could she?

“For what?” She snapped out again.

She threw her backpack over her shoulders rather forcefully, and then slammed her locker.

Richie opened his mouth to speak, but she was faster.

“For leaving me out, or for leaving me out and ditching me yesterday, jackass?”

The boy’s brow furrowed, and his mouth still hung open.

“What are you talking about?” He asked.

“Don’t bullshit me, I know you told everyone else about- well whoever the hell it was that you asked out,” Her voice lost it’s edge, as her disappointment sunk in instead.  “You really weren’t going to tell me about it? At all? Over some- some girl?”

There was a frown on her lips, and a curve in her brow, and he could see how much it saddened her.  Even though it was lost on him what had happened, and more importantly, who had told her this information.

“(y/n), I don’t know what you mean-”

“Fuck you,” The girl scoffed, shaking her head, and looking away so that he couldn’t see the way she’d started to tear up.  “Really.  Fuck you.  I thought- I really thought-” She let out a humorless, watery laugh as she shook her head, meeting his confused gaze for a moment.  “Just- just fuck you” She mumbled again.

When she walked away from him, her shoulder knocked into his arm, and she didn’t bother looking back at him as she stormed off.

As confused as Richie was about her outburst, all he could feel right now was anger, because someone gave her false information, and led her to believe that he’d not only kept secrets from her, but that he’d asked another girl out. ___

“What the fuck did you do!” Richie yelled as soon as he walked into the library.

Bill, Eddie, Stan, and Ben shared a free period and were always here at this time.  Richie also had a free period, but preferred to either smoke outside, ditch school, or hide out under the bleachers with (y/n).

The librarian, along with most of his peers in the library, shushed him noisily.  But he paid them no mind as he glared down at his friends.

“I know one of you fucking told (y/n) that I asked someone out, and now she thinks that I was avoiding her- and worse that I fucking like someone else- so fess the fuck up now beause I will find out either way and one of you has ruined my life!”

“Richard Tozier if you don’t lower your volume I will give you detention” The librarian warned.

Richie even glared at the older woman, but didn’t say anything as he looked back at the table of his friends.

“You asked someone out?” Ben, who was not caught up on the situation, asked.

“No I didn’t fucking-” Richie started to hiss, but Stan spoke up.

“I did,” He said right away.  “I told (y/n) that you were upset yesterday because you were rejected, which was technically true-”

“Fuck you, man!”

“I won’t warn you again, Mr Tozier”

“Why would you-?”

“She was hurt, what was I supposed to say?” Stan whisper screamed back.

“Literally any- fucking-thing else!”

“Okay- okay jesus would you calm down before you get us all banned from the library?” Eddie asked.  “Why don’t you just go explain it to her that you wanted to ask her-”

“That’s not exactly an option, Eds” Richie meant to snarl, but it came out more saddened than frustrated.

“Why not?” Ben asked.  “Just tell her the truth and ask her out.  She’ll understand”

“Maybe, but she’ll also hate me, and I don’t need to be rejected again,” Richie muttered.  “She probably already doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.  She thinks I.. I betrayed her”

“No she doesn’t,” Stan chirped in.  “She just doesn’t want you to go out with someone else.  She wants you to ask her”

He knew it was true, he’d seen the way she’d deflated when he insinuated Richie liked someone else.  She was just too stubborn and scared to admit that she liked Richie that way.

“No she doesn’t, you guys heard her,” Richie said, looking at Bill and Eddie.  “And now she wants even less to do with me.  Thanks a lot, guys.  Really”

This time, the way he said it was ingenuine, and on that note, he left the library.  Not without flipping off the table though.

The librarian saw this, but didn’t care enough to scold him for a third time because at least he was finally leaving. ___

(y/n) sat next to Beverly on her bed.  The two had been comfortable hanging out, mostly in silence, as Beverly read a book and (y/n) painted her toenails with a new red polish Bev had gotten.

It had been a few days since her blowout with Richie, and she hadn’t spoken to him since.  She saw him everywhere, though.  She swore she saw him around more now than she did before, and the thought bugged her.

There was no hiding the fact that she missed him.  She used to spend time with him like this, doing random things and not really talking to one another, but just enjoying the other’s company.  Not that she didn’t like hanging out with Beverly, she loved Bev.  

But it was different.

“Alright,” Beverly spoke up, after (y/n) had sighed for the umpteenth time.  “Time to spill.  What are you thinking about?”

(y/n) frowned, and paused in her toe-painting process to look over at Bev.

“Come on girl.  I know you’re thinking about Richie.  What’s going on?”

“I just…” (y/n) sighed.  “I’m mad, or- upset, not angry I just… I still miss him?” Beverly nodded, understanding the girl’s puzzlement.  “I don’t know what to do”

“Maybe just tell him you like him,” Bev said boldly.  “He’d like that”

(y/n) chuckled and shook her head, brushing off the comment as just a tease.

“Should I apologize?” She asked softly, going back to finishing her toes.

Beverly gave her a soft smile, and then laughed.

The sudden laughter caught (y/n) off guard, and she turned to her again.

“What?” She asked, while the other girl continued giggling.  “What?” She repeated, letting out a laugh of her own, simply because Beverly’s giggles were contagious.

“Babe.  Just go to the fucking Prom”

This caught her even more off guard- (y/n) swore she felt like Beverly was purposefully trying to confuse her.

“Wh- the prom?” (y/n) repeated.  “What’s that got to do with it-”

“Come on, (y/n/n),” Beverly chuckled with a shake of her head.  “Trust me.  It would just fix everything”

“Beverly, I-”

“-you hate the prom, I know,” Bev monotoned, before (y/n) could go on her rant.  “But as your friend, I feel like I should tell you that…”

She contemplated telling (y/n) the truth.  Because while she was her best friend, it wasn’t her truth to tell.  But she couldn’t watch (y/n) and Richie get torn apart over something so silly.  Neither of them deserved that.

“What?” (y/n) hummed.  It was troubling that she’d been quiet for so long.

Finally, the red head sighed, and continued.

“Richie wanted to take you,” She said, softly, unsurely.  “He wanted to go with you.  To prom”

(y/n’s) brow furrowed, and her jaw fell open slightly.  Beverly watched her entire reaction, the way her confusion washed over her features like a slow waterfall.

“He… Richie…” She shook her head, trying to clear the mess of thoughts that were clouding her mind.  “He did?”

Bev nodded, and (y/n) let out a small scoff.  The sound throws her off, and for a moment, she thinks that (y/n) is upset, appalled by the idea.

“I can’t… I can’t believe it” (y/n) mumbled.

There were a million questions running through her head, but Beverly wouldn’t be much help to answer them.

“Yeah, well, he-”

“I have to go,” (y/n) stood suddenly, capping the polish and shoving it haphazardly into Bev’s hands.  “I’ll call you later”

“W-what? Where are you going?” She asked, standing and following (y/n) while she was hastily going down the stairs, trying her best not to walk on her still wet-painted toes.  “(y/n)?”

“I have to go buy a dress!”

With that, she was running out the door, shoes in hand.

Beverly just shook her head, but there was an excited smile on her lips, wondering what was going to happen next.

Prom just got a hundred times more interesting. ___

“This fucking blows”

Richie’s comment was an angry mutter, and one that made his friends feel a bit bad for him.  He didn’t want to come, not after everything that’s happened.  But his friends had begged him.

He’d already bought the ticket, and rented the tux.  And it’s not like he had any other plans for the night.  So he thought, why not?

This is why not, he thought glumly to himself now.  Sitting alone at a table, only accompanied by his friend’s jackets, and Bev’s ridiculously tall heels.  She’d kicked them off as soon as they’d arrived.

An upbeat song was playing, and Richie felt like he was the only person not dancing.  Probably because he was.

As he looked out at his friends, and his peers, all he saw were smiling faces.  Not one frown, not one bored look.  Everyone was joyfully spinning and jumping to the music.

Richie decided to just stare down at his shoes.  Less disappointment there.

Except that he paid a lot for the fine shiny black leather.  And it was going to waste.

However, another pair of shoes joined his, standing directly in front of him.  A pretty pair of strappy black ones, which exposed red painted toes.

“Hey, trashmouth” A quiet, sweet voice spoke, and even when he looked up to see (y/n), he couldn’t believe she was standing right there in front of him.

Especially not here.  And especially not looking like that.

She was in a beautiful (y/f/c) gown, which hung just to her ankles.  It was strapless, and considerably low cut- at least, more low cut than anything he’d seen her wear before.  He’d never seen her look so… elegant.

Like a princess.

No, a queen.

“I thought you hated prom”

Admittedly, it’s not what he wanted to say, but it does the trick, because she lets out a humorless laugh, and glances around.

It was just what she expected.  Cheap pink and white streamers thrown and taped everywhere, matching balloons taped around doorways, and littered throughout the floor.  The song playing definitely wasn’t her style, and neither was most of the dancing she saw her peers doing out on the floor.

“I do,” She replies with a shrug of her shoulder, and looks back at him for a moment.

It surprises him when she takes a seat next to him.

“But I come with a peace offering,” She tells him with a small smile.  “Me.  I’m the peace offering.  Being here”

Richie laughs at that, and runs a hand through his curls.

“Am I supposed to be blessed by your presence?” He asks her, and she quirks an eyebrow back at him.

“Damn right you are,” She replies coolly.  “So are you gonna ask me to dance?”

Richie looked over at her, his brows raised, before glancing back out at the floor.

“You want to dance?” He asked, not an offer, but a comment of surprise.

“I thought you’d never ask,” She teased back, knowing full well that he hadn’t meant it that way.  “Come on, trashmouth” She said, sticking her hand out for him.

He thought it over for a minute, but ultimately, this was everything he was hoping for, so he took her hand, and pulled her up from the seat.

She smiled as he pulled her with him towards the dance floor.  Even in her heels, he still towered over her.

He let go of her hand when they found a decent open spot on the floor, and even though neither of them cared for the song playing they danced around as gleefully as though they had.

Richie looked really nice, in (y/n’s) opinion.  He always had a general… attractiveness… to him.  She could see it in his naturally perfect bone structure, and his dark eyes, the size of moons behind the dorky glasses.  Sure, Richie was maybe-sorta-kinda-cute, but tonight?

His lanky body moved in all directions as he danced around.  It was goofy, but it was adorable.

He looked beautiful.

She was smiling at him, although he couldn’t see, because he was too busy throwing himself around to notice her sudden stall in dancing.

Not until the song ended, did he realize she was just standing there.

“Well,” She sighed, smoothing her hands down the skirt of her dress.  “I’m going to go get a drink-”

“Hold on, hold on,” Richie speaks up before she could step away, and his hand reaches out to clasp around her wrist.  His hold his firm, but gentle.  

She could pull away if she wanted to.

“One more,” He says, quietly, and his other hand curls around her waist, pulling her in closer.

Africa by Toto is playing, a classic, and he knew that she loved this song.

Finally, a song playing that she actually liked.

“Just one more” He repeats, and she can’t help but nod.

Her hands timidly laid against his the front of his shoulders.  Despite her nerves, her eyes were locked on his, and she couldn’t bring herself to look away.  She could feel the warmth of his palms through the silky material of her dress, and she steps a little closer, until her front is almost pressed against his.

Her hands slid upwards, until she’s wrapped her arms around his neck, and she leaned her cheek into his shoulder.  She can’t help but shut her eyes, while they move slowly back and forth.

Everyone else on the dance floor was swinging and jumping, moving excitedly about the floor.  While (y/n) and Richie just held each other, and moved at their slowest pace.  There was nothing to be rushed, all they wanted was to enjoy holding onto each other for the next couple minutes.

“I’m sorry you got turned down,” (y/n) murmured.  “You’re a good time, Rich, I don’t know why she’s so dumb to say no to you”

He was quiet for a minute, lifting his head to look at her.  She was still leaning against his shoulder and her eyes were still closed.  She looked so content, comfortable, and it made his heart do a backflip.

“Well- um-” He chokes on his words, and ducks his head back down next to hers.

(y/n) opens her eyes, and leans her head off of him just far enough that she can look at him.  He’s having a hard time meeting her gaze.  She waits for him to finish his thought, even though it takes a moment.

“You know.  She hates prom, so, it was a long shot,”

Her heart starts to pound in her chest, and she wonders if Bev had been serious the other night, when she’d said that he wanted to ask her.

“But, you know” He shrugs, but he doesn’t say anything else.

“Know what?” (y/n) asks softly.

It feels like the room is getting smaller, like no one else is dancing around them, and they’re just two people, standing in the school gym, holding tightly to one another.

“Richie?” She calls in a whisper, and he hums as he looks down at her.

Her arms wrap more securely behind his neck, fingers gently carding through the curls that hung there.  She looks at him for a moment, biting down on her cheek, to keep from saying what she wants to say.  She didn’t want to blurt it out, but fuck, she wanted to say it so bad.

His brows are furrowed, because she’s taken a solid fifteen seconds- not that he’s counting- and she’s just looking at him.  Her eyes are rounded, and flickering over his features, but never leaving him.  And he can tell she’s literally biting back words, but she’ll crack.  She always does when she tries to keep something from him.  It’s almost impossible for her.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?”

The question came out so soft, as if it scared her more than it really did.

Richie let out a short sign, a weak smile tugging on his lips.

“It was easier for you to tell Bill and Eds that you hated everything about this than to have you say it to my face”

(y/n) frowned, and her brows crinkled together out of confusion, and hurt.

Didn’t he know that she would’ve gladly agreed to go with him?

“Richie-”

“It’s alright, (y/n/n), don’t worry about it”

This only made her frown deepen.

“Richie…” She mumbles, before chuckling.  “I would’ve said yes”

“Right” He replies sarcastically.

“No,” She’s still mumbling, but he understands her.  “Really, I would have.  Had you asked me,”

She leans up a little closer to him, and if she’d moved any closer, her nose would have bumped into his.  Richie’s tempted to close the distance between them right then and there, and for a second his eyes wander to her lips, thinking about how close they are, and it wouldn’t take much to kiss them-

“You should’ve just asked” She whispers, and shrugs her shoulder nonchalantly.

“You’re here now, aren’t you?” He asks smugly, and when his lips pull into a smirk, she giggles a bit.

“Yeah,” She sighs, and her fingers curl up further into his hair.  “So, now that you’ve got me here… what’re you gonna do?”

He chuckles down at her, because she was so cute when she tried to be smooth.

“I just want to dance with you” He said, wrapping his arms completely around her waist, keeping her snug against his chest.

She sighed, content, as she leaned against his shoulder again.  They somehow were able to move slower than before, just swaying gently back and forth, but neither of them had ever felt so comfortable.

He was singing, incredibly softly, into her ear.  Just a few lyrics to the song here and there.  But it was sweet, and it felt perfect.

Even when their song had ended, and another cheesy one started to play, they continued to sway.

“Here” Richie spoke up, loosening up his hold on her, and then taking her hand.

He spun her outwards, under his arm, and she let out a laugh that could only be described to sound like absolute glee, before he tugged her back towards him.

She grinned up at him, and then carded her hands back into his curls so that she could lean upwards and press her lips against his.

It took him by surprise, but he didn’t hesitate for a second before cupping his hands around her cheeks and kissing her back passionately.  Their dancing had stopped, and again, the rest of the room shrunk and disappeared.

When they parted, her eyes were shut for a solid minute, but she was smiling, and it made Richie grin.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

She opened her eyes, and hummed back in question.

“Will you go to prom with me?”

She burst out laughing, nodding her head in agreement.

“Of course,” She said sweetly.  “But I won’t buy a dress, I’ll wear something old”

“Fine” Richie chuckles with a shake of his head.  He drops his hands from her face to place them on her waist again.

“And you can forget about dancing, it’s stupid” She adds, grinning wide at him while he nods.

“Not even one dance?”

“No way.  You have two left feet,” She says, in that same sweet tone.  “Who wants to dance with a guy who’s gonna step on your toes?”

Richie was still laughing, and he shook his head again.

“You still agreed to go, so…” He cocks his head to the side, giving her a grin that made her stomach do a flip.

“Well then there must be some kind of redeeming quality about you” She hummed, a timid smile on her lips.

She’s blushing, and it’s his favorite sight in the whole world.

“One more dance, though?” He asked, and (y/n) nodded, her arms wrapping around his neck again while he spun them both around a bit more enthusiastically than before.

“You can kinda dance for having two left feet-”

“Beep beep”

(y/n) laughs, and tries her best to feign offense but she’s giggling so much that it’s kinda hard to be convincing.

“You don’t get to beep beep me, that’s not how it works!”

“I think it works however I want it to work,” He teases.  “If you’re not still mad, want to get ice cream later?”

“Sounds good” (y/n) agreed, and swiftly leaned up to kiss his cheek. ___

They danced until eventually they got kicked out, because everyone left, everything was being cleaned up, and the music Richie was playing off his phone, and that was the breaking point for the chaperones.

They later got kicked out of the ice cream parlor too, for starting a mini food fight, and were stuck walking around town.  Everywhere had closed, it was the middle of the night, and they were both still in their prom attire.

Except now there were a few ice cream stains splattered on them.

“Where to now?” (y/n) asked, while Richie dramatically swung their hands between them.

“I don’t know, where do you want to go?” He asked, and she shrugged.

“Anywhere” She answered, softly, as she looked up at him.

“Anywhere?” He repeats.  “Because I know a great strip club-”

“Beep beep, Richie,” She says through a chuckle, and squeezes his hand as she walks closer to him.  “And yeah.  Anywhere”

(They end up throwing rocks into the quarry, but moral of the story is they stick together and live happily ever after)

___

raise your hand if you wish you’d gone to prom with richie tozier 🙋‍♀️🙋‍♂️ xoxo ~ jordie