#but i remember all of them having their own unique nicknames and shit and like yeah we knew their actual names but it was just like.

[cowboycatss]

so weird how often people become stupid obsessed with a disney parks actor and then are shocked when suddenly they’re not there anymore

[fff777]

watched mark and renjun on nopogy

shownu and jungwoo spend some time looking for the restaurant

lol jungwoo. he kept being like "ohhhh 😮😮" because this is a unique room. it's more like a half floor that they've turned into a private room.

shownu: doesn't this feel like an attic space that kids like? that reminds me of one time i went to a restaurant with my family and they gave us a really tight spot and my dad was like "when we were kids we liked to hide in tight places eh" 😂

they're just focused on eating :P shownu very diligently deboned the fish like he said he would and the others are gobbling up the fish :3

mark is sooo disappointed with renjun's pun 🤣

HE RAISED THEM WITH HIS OWN DAD JOKES! HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO COMPLAIN!!

most unsurprising thing in the world, mark the romantic

back to eating lmao

mark called jungwoo the day before to watch episodes of nopogy for research. lol cramming.

right from the beginning it seemed like mark was really hungry and gobbling down food and he continues to enthusiastically inhale it lol

awww he really is being a big brother 🥹

jungwoo already remembers when i'm with you :P it is a very catchy song

wait both jungwoo and mark are infj? i wouldn't have expected it from them

renjun ready to expose jungwoo's ass lol. the only episode i know of them is when they snuck off and took the train somewhere to have a date with just the two of them :P

oh shit renjun is telling that story! lol

jungwoo just hit up renjun to go to busan. of course mark thinks it's a romantic getaway.

LOL so the suggestion started as something super not serious but they eventually got to a point where they went

oh is this the story of when renjun made mark sneak out to the beach with him? it was busan too? renjun and busan, a dangerous combination

hyperfixating on renjun's necklace lmao

LOL so jungwoo asked for renjun's necklace (as a joke) and renjun was like yeah i can give this to you and mark was like omg this is like busan all over again. jungwoo just says things flippantly and renjun takes them seriously but also with 120% courage so he kind of pushes jungwoo to have to work with him lol.

mark to shownu: you got to know jungwoo well through this show right? mark to shownu: isn't he like a puppy?

jungwoo to shownu: do you think of me as a puppy? shownu: no you're jungwoo 🤣 and then jungwoo got teased for deflating

mark mixing up his konglish and then jungwoo and shownu going into english practice mode

jungwoo is busy dog? i didn't know htis haha

talking about how the neos save each other's names in their contacts

mark said that he saved renjun's name as shoulder gangster renjun and jungwoo started singing the song but only NOW am i realizing that it's actually the beginning chorus of go 😅😂 but jungwoo really is close with the dreamies eh

shownu, jungwoo, and renjun all save their contact names in a simple way which is HOW IT SHOULD BE because how else are you going to find people's names??? i really don't get people who save contacts as nicknames

lolll this is what i do for people who aren't friends lol (like coworkers or like bank people etc)

so jungwoo has a neat room :o

shownu's talking about how he envies jungwoo for being neat and organized because he loses his things all the time. he's bought so many airpods. and he also loses his car keys.

renjun is a lanyard boy

shownu: what if i forget where my car is renjun: ... renjun: call your car?

LOL mark was a bit hesitant to join into the convo but he was like "er....that happens to me too" (losing your car)

ok i'm like jungwoo because i try to park in the same place every time too

jungwoo dissecting mark's routine step by step and mark is losing his mind 😅

i knew mark used things for a long time based on what we saw in the boys mental training camp. he said he gets sentimental about stuff. which again, is very in line with his personality.

shownu cried when he had to sell his car and he had it for less than two years 😅

i'm kind of like mark in that i keep my old phone when i get a new one. but i do back up my photos regularly to my computer so keeping photos on my phone isn't really a thing i do. which reminds me, i have to do that soon lol.

aw, jungwoo said that this is the first time shownu has opened like this on the show and it's because of renjun. i think it's also a side effect of jungwoo being relaxed because he's with friends as opposed to guests who he's not as familiar with.

this shownu x renjun friendship is so cute <3

mark thought he'd start doing more mature concepts like monsta x when he turned 25 but he's 25 now and doesn't feel like he can so he gave up.

hype man jungwoo

i think the guests have to decide whether shownu and jungwoo have to work?

renjun thinks harvesting radishes sounds fun. honestly...same lol. if it's just a one-time thing.

jungwoo and shownu have to work 😅 they have to cook fish 😮

this was really fun and cute <3

[hunieday]

Isumi Haruka - Drama Collection Summer Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Haruka: Yotsuba～～

Tamaki: Isumin～～～～

Haruka: I win!!!

Tamaki: Shit!!! Just a bit more and I’d have killed you!!!!

Haruka: I’m better at quick maneuvers!

Tamaki: Jumping there was completely unfair!!!!! you’re only supposed to do fancy jumps during lives!!!!

Haruka: What are you even talking about lolololol if we’re talking about lives aren’t you the one who does fancy jumps the best 😒

Haruka: Anyway, the punishment game! You remember right? 🥺

Tamaki: I remember 🥺🥺

Tamaki: The loser treats the other the 5 yen loaf of bread

Tamaki: 😒😒😒

Haruka: All right! Get it tomorrow on our way home! 

Tamaki: Fine!!! Only because I lost this time!!!!

Haruka: Sure, sure

Haruka:

Tamaki: 

Tamaki: I'll invite Iorin too! I'll pay for his share 

Tamaki: I offered before, I told him it looked yummy and he asked me, "What's the point of it having a 5 yen shape?” I’ve been thinking about that!

Haruka: That is something he’d say! lolol but I'm sure he'll look happy when you eat it. Maybe I'll invite him to a game next time.

Haruka: I wonder if he plays games.

Tamaki: Hmmm, I don't think he’s into that

Tamaki: But Iorin is good at everything!

Tamaki: I think he'll study it hard and use smart strategies like Nagicchi does.

Haruka: Ah! I think he's the type who’d use obstacles to his advantage!

Haruka: I don't think he'd rush into the front line like you 😏 

Tamaki: Isumin is just like me in that regard!

Haruka: And yet I still won today!

Tamaki: 

Haruka: 

Haruka: If you say "Please teach me, Isumi-senpai!” I could coach you, you know??

Tamaki: You're not my senior!!

Tamaki: By the way, the other day I almost used honorifics with you without realizing it.

Tamaki: Because of the drama we filmed…

Haruka: You know, I felt really uncomfortable at first when you used honorifics with me.

Haruka: I don't want a junior who’s taller than me lolol

Tamaki: Even though he's tall, he's still a cute junior 🥺

Tamaki: "I'll be in a band with my senior!” something like that

Haruka: Well, Yotsuba in the drama was somewhat cute.

Haruka: He was too timid to express his own opinion. He has a talent for composing, but he lacked confidence. 🥺

Tamaki: Hehe

Tamaki: Ismin was really good too. He gave me a boost when I was feeling down about my lack of self-confidence .

Haruka: You mean when he sang a cappella?

Tamaki: Yeahhh!!

Tamaki: "I want to show off to the world that there's someone who can write such amazing songs!”, and then he sang for us!

Tamaki: He's a great senior!

Haruka: I like that part too! I felt great to have had the OK from the first take!

Haruka: 

Tamaki: We had a great time singing by the beach together!

Haruka: No, I wanted to practice by myself!?

Tamaki: Ismin was singing so passionately that I couldn't stop myself from joining.

Haruka:  Touma and Izumi's brother came as well. I thought something happened lol

Tamaki: Really felt like a youthful moment

Haruka: Well, I guess…

Tamaki: Speaking of youth, I forgot to do my English homework for tomorrow.

Haruka: Weird way to remember but I’m glad you did at least?!

Haruka: We’ll have a mini test on the vocabulary from this homework.

Tamaki: 

Tamaki: I'm gonna be terminated

Haruka: Well, it's gonna be in the 5th period, so try to do your best during recess or something [pudding cheer]

Tamaki: If I get a bad grade again, XXrin and XXX-chan will get mad at me, please teach me, Isumin!!!!!

Haruka: Your nicknames are so unique that censoring them is pointless lololol

Tamaki: Isumin-senpai, please teach me 🥺 I'm your cute classmate too !!

Haruka: Don't call yourself cute lolololol Why don't you ask Izumi to teach you

Tamaki: Iorin will be away for work tomorrow morning, you’re my only hope!!!! Isumin!!!!!!!!!

Harukau: Ugh, I have no choice…

Haruka: Pay me back with melon bread from the store 😑

Tamaki: even though you’re also gonna get the 5 yen bread?

Tamaki: You really like bread, Isumin…

Haruka: You’re a nuisance lololol it’s a promise then!!

Haruka: 

Tamaki:

[swallowtailed]

palisade 38 !

very fun episode. love to advance some clocks! love to talk about relationships! and also to deliberately not talk about them!

the qui err coalition being extremely serious about lawn games at a bontive valley cookout is The summer event. i wanna be there. also i’m with dre on this, a barbecue is a specific thing separate from a cookout and from grilling

asepsis drone speakers...

cori and elle! cori and elle!!!!! elle dreamed (or claims she dreamed) she was a true believer again… heartbreaking honestly. 

"i'm not gonna spend the rest of my life staring at your back" cori....

also a very funny little beat that thisbe thought elle was going to stab cori. like obviously it’s enemies to lovers but it’s great context for the degree of bloodlust in the blocking lmao. immediately followed by “don’t let her be the one to kill you. kill her first”

speaking of thisbe—integrity giving her the confidence to acknowledge her own autonomy! holy shit! thisbe moments!!!

"thisbe" is sort of already an excerpt nickname from "this being"

figure and eclectic’s conversation about the blue channel… very moving that figure thought to take the time to sit down and say “that’s my home and i care about it”. and eclectic, in response, telling figure about his past… 

speaking of, fantastic conversation with eclectic’s old noir partner. get mercilessly roasted by your old buddy who stayed behind when you left! sure, maybe someone thinks you owe them a bowling game, but the game was always yours and you’re never going back.

and jesset… okay, first of all, jesset taking exactly the same approach as gucci (“thought i was gonna die and it made me think about This and maybe also You”) is extremely funny.

also however. of course jesset city, party of the wolf, believes in martyrdom. it’s one thing to accept the risk of death (as the blue channel habitually does) (no time to practice dying on palisade!), it’s another to live with it. jesset’s chosen coping mechanism is memory, i think. didn’t brnine and jesset last talk while drinking the memory of jesset’s fallen crewmates? honoring the dead is something jesset believes in—he has to, or it all falls apart. because he’s party of the wolf. it must be terrifying to feel like he wouldn’t, himself, be remembered.

anyway all i can figure at this point is that brnine exudes an aura that actively prevents valence’s name from being said in their presence

the twill have decided to restore the battlefields in the bontive valley and partial’s helping!! i’m so curious about what their goals are with it… creating living space and healing some of the damage from the war, of course, but what does that materially look like to the twill?

(was also posting about this here—speculative ecology corner—but it’s like… even if the twill manage to replant and regrow, the damage will still be visible in the unique health of that landscape. will they welcome that, or will they try to erase it as much as possible? both understandable options.)

very much looking forward to both fake gur mission and brnine, thisbe, and cori's assassination mission >:)

[fictionfixations]

what the fuck?

[Marquez's power grew stronger by the day during Cyrille's tenure, and his thugs soon retained absolute discretion throughout the Qlipoth Fort as they issued their draconian decrees. The nickname Cyrille the Fool spread throughout the people, and they grew more and more dissatisfied with this puppet Supreme Guardian and her ministerial allies.

In the 14th year of her tenure, rebels among the Architects hatched a secret plot to overthrow Stefan and his cronies. The rebels won over the Silvermane Guards' Captain and planned on luring Cyrille and Stefan to the Silvermane Guard Restricted Zone where they could launch a coup.

That day, the Supreme Guardian Cyrille attended the military exercise as expected, but the rebels never found any trace of Stefan Marquez. The captain played them at their own game, dispatching a fake patrol of Silvermane Guards into the restricted zone with Cyrille, and pushing her into an arsenal chest. The guards then rushed to the far north of Belobog and, under cover of darkness, shoved the unconscious Supreme Guardian in the arsenal chest over the edge of the cliff.

The rebels carried out a search operation for three days and three nights in Belobog, but never found any trace of Minister Stefan Marquez. To this day, people still attribute the death of the seventh Supreme Guardian and the disappearance of Cyrilla to Marquez's political conspiracy — a claim that, according to Belobog historians, to this day remains inconclusive and unproven.]

(if there are any typos, in the text above im sorry but its a lot of text)

okay so i read this because. yknow how in hoyofair (that one with the mix between genshin and star rail. i wasnt interested in star rail but it was there so i watched it anyway. but yknow like Cyrille's Doll? that one creepy one about her. so i decided to read the thing and um..)

so. listen.

he manipulated a child into trusting him and relying on him for everything. that everything would be okay and all that shit. but it was all for his own gain

then when the rebels were going to do something he got his guards to fuckin shove her in a box. AND THEN PUSH HER OFF A CLIFF? WHAT.

and. bruh was just never found? HELLO? WHAT? EXCUSE ME? okay i mean its fair i guess cause idk you could die somewhere out in the snow and never be found but like

HUH?

[I started keeping a diary because of Mr. Stefan. He said that keeping a diary is a good habit for a lady to keep. He also said that keeping a diary is a very lonely affair, and that if I'm scared of being alone, I can just read aloud the diary to him.

To be honest, it's really hard to keep a diary because nothing interesting happens to me — I won't read this part to Mr. Stefan as he'll get sad, and I don't want him to be sad. I wish I were my sister, because she knows everything. She always tells me fun stories and is always telling me about the interesting people she meets.

It was only later that I realized most of my diary was about Mr. Stefan. Sometimes it's recounting our conversations, sometimes it's recording what I've learned from him, sometimes it's simply recording my mood while I wait for him to visit again.]

HHhhh

[I know you must be nervous right now, Cyrille, but I hope you can remember what I warned you before: Don't be intimidated by loud and empty threats. As long as you stand firm and follow my advice at all times, any pushback or complaint is just temporary white noise — something that will fade away as we draw closer to the end of the plan and ultimately become a picture painted together by us.

I sometimes still think of when I met you, more than ten years ago. You were a timid little girl back then, too shy to talk and lacking confidence in yourself. But I found something special in you — a one-of-a-kind temperament that even a genius like Cyrilla doesn't have. And it's precisely because of this unique talent of yours that I decided to stay with you, and help you build up the beautiful future that you deserve.]

okay so that thing that she has that Cyrilla doesn't have is either him buttering her up OR its that Cyrilla is smart enough to know who to trust and when she's being manipulated while Cyrille isn't. That's not to say that she's dumb, but it's more like because she was a kid and never got pushed to do anything else, that she could just 'rely' on Stefan that turned her into who she became, like just a puppet while Stefan has a bunch of power in the background.

i wonder if theres more on this but i dont think its ever explained what happened to her sister (she just went missing). maybe Stefan really did take Cyrilla out. Anyway it'd also be all too easy to lie and be like 'i looked for her but i couldnt find her' since it'd already been awhile since then right with no finding in sight? so it could hardly be expected to find anything. i just dont believe him when he claims that.

[Remember, Cyrille — you just have to trust me. I would never lie to you.

Your sincerest friend, Stefan]

yeah and you can go fuck yourself stefan what the hell?

im so startled by this quest im not gonna lie

[budgetaus]

(Warning: long-read, links, photos, videos)

“You weren’t this cold at the start.”

Cold: a Sans Snowgrave route.

A UNIQUE FUN VALUE

Sans got a call.

After countless resets Sans was tired,

(Everything was the same blur)

He could care less what happened to everyone else

(Even his own brother)

And just wanted to end all of it.

And the caller offered a deal.

Saying he could fix it all, help him end it, stop it, maybe even give him something he never had before….

Control

Sans, after a long pause, agreed. Of course asking for the catch. 

There was “no” catch.

(If losing your own free will wasn’t a catch.)

The caller told him how to fix it.

That they’d even help him.

Sans started the “plan”, convincing himself this was what he had to do.

(It was finally something new…something that wasn’t predictable.)

They wouldn’t remember.

It was to stop the endless cycle.

He would make it better in the end.

Make it up to them.

(When he got control over it all.)

He would start his own game and be the one to control it…

To call the shots…

For the better.

He would never be just another “character”, “npc”, “it” anymore…no one would.

Something changed in him.

The plan changed him.

(You became the very thing you swore to destroy.)

He was finally enjoying himself…because he was the one in control and it felt good.

He felt powerful. 

Determined to stop it all and make this his world.

He didn’t care anymore.

He just had to reach the end

No matter what.

They would thank him later.

His soul grew cold, hard, unfeeling.

He didn’t recognize those who he cherished (friends, family, no one.) and “he” wasn’t the same.

 He heard it.

The entity.

The entity the caller told him would make this easier.

Not to be afraid of it.

This was to help.

It would help.

(ART: new and old)

(Abilities/Battle info)

Cold has all the abilities of Sans.

Cold has an assimilation ability which allows him to copy a few unique abilities from a monster he has killed, aswell as bullet patterns (Ex: The waviness of Toriels attacks or the spear ringlets of Undynes attacks)

Cold has a passive where he radiates coldness that he can control, and can freeze things through touch due to this (Turn them into ice sculptures) which does not affect magic items but affects things with a soul, (Things without a soul such as Ink can still be frozen but physical contact just doesn't cause them to immediately start freezing over.)

Ice infection, which, just makes it so his ice SPREADS. If touched a body part shall freeze and will start to spread the freezing until you're a statue. The speed varies but will usually be faster the longer you have touched something icey.

Frostbite which is a mimic of KR. For however long you've touched an attack a bit of your HP will freeze and become a blue color. This blue HP will be unusable and cannot be healed. It can only be thawed. To thaw just..go somewhere hot or get hit by an attack that produces heat lol

Cold progressively gets stronger each "reset" happens, as in, his progress is put back at 0.

Cold himself does not have the ability to au/world hop but his demons do e.g Promise. Think sort of like how Nightmare is able to send Killer/Cross places.

(Notes/Facts)

Sans nickname is "Cold".

This is an alternate timeline, but could be considered a universe.

The inspiration is Deltarune SnowGrave route, Spamton, Jevil, Noelle, and DustTale. As "ColdGrave" is more alike to DustTale if any AU.

Cold attracts all sorts of things, demons, spirits, creatures. After all, Misery loves company.

The caller and the entity is really up to interpretation.

Cold can take KR damage due to his LV and not being a good "Judge" of character anymore.

Cold doesn't actually use his own magic much, often opting to just smack something a bunch with a weapon i.e like Player who as Frisk..just hits things a bunch 'til they dust.

Shivvers: Colds Phantom Papyrus, which isn't actually Papyrus but just a demon taking the form of Papyrus to haunt Cold- make him feel even worse and to guilt-trip him into continuing what he's doing. Shivvers feeds off his misery.

The Heart Locket: Just a representation of Chara, another 'demon' like entity. (Chara themself says they are a demon.) Colds DETERMINATION and everything he's done, along with being a new change of pace had woken Chara up sooner than Frisk.

Promise: Another demon who keeps Cold on track. (AKA continuing his mission) Also Colds best friend.

Papyrus and Sans: Just echoes of what once was. Faint yet familiar memories.

Cold is "just dust but sadder" (quote from Promise), similar to Kris and Frisk. Similar also to Noelle, especially after the soon to be reboot. (The reboot is going to change the way I RP Cold)

The reason Cold and Promise know eachother is that Cold attracted Promise (Creepy pasta by d4niztic) due to Cold LV n such and after Cold was tormented by Promise (Promise is a violent creature) they struck up a deal so Cold can live but now Cold kinda works for Promise and Promise little gang of creepypasta's (UnderTale creepypasta's)

(This happened because of RP me and my friend @entitysoulless did and they ended up becoming friends lol)

If you were to encounter Cold in a fight the song that would most likely play would be something like "But nobody came" (Undertale esque) or Lullaby of the Unheard.

Cold is still a WIP and subject to change! I hate him💖💖

(Lyrics from Shy Sings: Core)

"Faintly within, “Start again”, repress it all."

"With a glare so sharp, paralyzing:

Cuts deeper than any knife."

"Watch their happiness decay."

(Theme Songs)

TS: Shy Sings: Core

TS: You’re An Awful Person

TS: Lullaby of the Unheard: Judas’ Lullaby + Cry of the Unheard

TS: In the Dark

[cabinette]

Please Do Interact List I Think

I dunno if yall are curious about me but have some silly traits I absolutely fucking love in characters

— Strong Jaws/chins/underbites, twenty-plus points if accentuated with facial hair!!!

— Crooked teeth or golden teeth, give that guy some chompers

— Calloused skin or rough spots in the elbows/knees/fingers, its natural body armour

— Chipped nail polish or any sort of faded hair colouring

— Specific motifs that are easy to remember and stem off of when making nicknames/thinking of headcanons, take for example my boy Zeke >:) He loves stars and jewellery in particular!!!!

— Normal-looking hairstyles with just one fantastical feature like a huge ahoge or a long streak of colour

— Body hair..... I love my Hairy Harrys and my Tangled Toms,

— Pudge or any sort of excessive love handles,

— When their outfit is basically just an amalgamation of presents and hand-me-downs from other people, it gives so much sentiment to the character design

— Very subtle theming. Take for example Atsushi from BSD with his huge belt that also doubles as an emotive tail, or Keqing from GI with her cat-like cone hairstyle

— Choppy/fucked up hairstyles that no one but them can pull off

— Extremely normal-looking guys. Like, someone you would pass on the street.

— Extremely normal-looking guy with one. ONE fantastical thing about them. Oh, you can see ghosts? oh, you turn into a snake at night? oh, you have an exiled god for a guardian? and they just go: yeah lmao

— When they're man-made or inorganically made beings who are slowly earning full sentience.

— HUUUUUGE HORNS ARE YOU KIDDING?! YES!!!!! HUUUUUGE FUCKING HORNS!!! SPIKES!!! CLAWS!!!!! TEETH!!!! FINS!!! RAAAAAH

— Unique helmets or face coverings that tell you so much more about their character than just a face would.

— When they're a home for little critters, like bugs in their clothes or sprouts and mushrooms in their hair

— Paint-stained hands/clothes or paint stains in one particular part of their body... I have so many paint stains on my old pants because of how much I wiped my dirty fingers off on them,

— Freckles, and I don't mean the tiny little dots I mean like. FRECKLES. a SHIT TON OF THEM. twenty-plus points if they are all over their body, on their arms legs chest, I fucking love freckles!!!!

— When they fish.

— Slicked back hair, specifically slicked back because if the hair is left on its own it's super wavy/curly and it makes everyone perceive them differently when it's not styled back like that

— Horrible horrible facial scars, ones that change a person's face entirely, one that cannot be removed or else the character loses 30% of their character. Scars that can you can just see the shape of and instantly go: "Oh! This is [oc]'s scar!"

Okay thats all :))))))) feel free to rb with your own PDI lists

[saltonwound]

by the way people actually care. I'm so tired of the "nobody gives a shit about you" motivational phrase because it's simply bs. If that's right then why people who I see on the street start talking about me when they see me? Why they comment my looks when I walk past them? The whole mindset of "Look I'm here recording myself and people don't even stare at me because they are in their own mind" is true, but only partially true. Whether people stare or not depends on a lot of factors: the place, the country you're filming in, your looks, etc.. In some places for instance they would aggressively stare at you, in others they're just too busy.

People judge you. People who you don't even know look at you, have thoughts about you, they criticise you or complement you, sometimes they forget about you after you have walked away, other times they remember you forever. They use words recklessly, as if they didn't know that those are flying knifes. Those nicknames on your insta story list are watching you and judjing you as we speak. How do I know? Because I do the same. And you know what? Let them. Let them cover you in their shit. Let them talk about you, or worse gossip about you. Let them feel superior than you. Let them hate you.

Once you let them you will actually stop caring. Who cares if everyone is judging me anyway? No matter what I do, those eyes will still be on me. I can't control it nor prevent it. I will always be hated by someone. There's always gonna be someone who'll comment on my looks and on my weird attitude. There's always gonna be someone who will try to obstacle my freedom by saying mean stuff about me, trying to stop me from expressing myself and trying to make me become like them. Trying to let me stop being cringe and wanting me to close myself to the world and waste my time judging others who have the guts to be cringe.

Y'know, I used to have an insta blog that was extremely awkward and cringe. Yeah I remember people saying mean things about me, even the friends of my friends would ask them how could they be friends with such a weirdo. Now I deleted that blog, made a private account and occasionally post stuff that is generally considered "normal". I became just like them and I lost my freedom. And all of this because I started to care. I lost my uniqueness.

[perotovar]

YAY I wanna know stuff about River! 🖤 # 1, 6, 22, 29 (I don't mean to be greedy but I just can't decide, so feel free to only pick two or however many you'd like!)

Can I also ask something about your Frankie? 💙 # 38, 24 (I remember him talking to Santi about gender identity etc, but curious if he's also his go to for #24, and/or how his communication with River is on this)

And one for you 💜: G about both River and Frankie!

(bonus nosy question: what does River think about Frankie calling them 'Rio'? It seems that they like it but I'm just curious - when was the first time he said that?)

AHHH I LOVE YOU!!!! thank you SO much for all your questions, dear adi! <33

ok ok let's dig into these! gonna do a read more since it kind of got away from me LOL

1. What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

with nothing to do? hmm. i think they're really good about being still/calm for a long time. they're an architect professionally, so they spend a lot of time (at work, at least) in meetings and talking to clients, so they're not very fidgety/restless. maybe a few hours?

6. Do they consider laws flexible, or immovable?

flexible, for sure. being nonbinary, there's a lot of things they're passionate about when it comes to certain laws, so. nothing is immovable to for river.

22. How does jealousy manifest itself in them (they become possessive, they become aloof, etc)? 

oh, i definitely see them curling in on themself and like, questioning shit. i think at first, they may get possessive, but if it were to be a regular thing (like, every time they go out, someone hits on frankie or something. and like, if frankie were his shy/awkward self just kind of smiled and nodded) they'd probably get concerned and just go quiet/aloof.

29. Do they usually live up to their own ideals? 

this is a good one omg. they strike me as the type to have a version of themself that they're supposed to be. like, "the perfectly androgynous and cool/laid back nonbinary person" so it kind of makes them a little dysphoric sometimes. they've done a lot of self reflecting/introspection so they're mostly over this sort of thing, but it'll rear its ugly head once in a while.

AHHH FRANKIE GETTING QUESTIONS LETS GOOO

24. Is sex something that they’re comfortable speaking about? To whom? 

he's ex military. talking about sex was near unavoidable while he and the guys were still in it. (i have an image in my head of him going down on his girlfriend and she couldn't keep quiet, thus giving him the name "catfish"). i don't think he's uncomfortable talking about sex in general, but he'll only talk about his own sexual experiences with like, probably, santiago and later, river ofc. he and santi are brothers, and he knows if the situation calls for it, he can come to santi for real questions/advice about literally anything, so i don't think sex is off the table.

38. What memory do they revisit the most often? 

holding marisol in his arms the first time. getting his pilot's license. receiving his one year sobriety coin. his and river's first time.

G. What trait of theirs bothers you the most?

i've answered river's so i'll do frankie's!

i think he's too hard on himself. he's a little too insecure (and he has every reason to be so i'm not like, mad at him about it). but i think he needs to stop questioning river's intentions.

once the "event" with evangeline happens, i think that happens way, way less, tho.

bonus question: what does River think about Frankie calling them 'Rio'? It seems that they like it but I'm just curious - when was the first time he said that?

they love it. they LOVE that he gave them their own unique nickname. he gives them all the cute petnames (baby, amorcito, etc) but hearing their correct name on their boyfriend's tongue and said in the most loving of ways? they're a puddle on the floor.

i'm not sure when he first says it! if you remember, frankie is the one to drop the L bomb first, so i think probably around that time? definitely before he said it, but like, a good month or two into their relationship.

thank you SO much about all these omg i LOVED IT

send me an OC question for river!!!

[tagfer]

I would love to see the nerd essay on why you hate Nuzlockes :)

well, if it's requested...

this is ABSOLUTELY a "just me" thing but like. if there's something I don't particularly care for but am mostly ambivalent about, and that thing becomes unavoidably popular, I'm going to fucking loathe it. this is unfortunately my nature and it's the reason behind why I hate many of the things I do. (well, not exclusively for this reason. but still.)

and that's where nuzlockes come in. while there's absolutely nothing inherently wrong with em, they've been an absolute plague of the pkmn fandom for over a decade. since they hit the scene, they've been unavoidable.

at first it started with a comic. and people wanted to do it too, and make their own comic. which was fine. but soon, doing just a normal comic wasn't enough, because there were so many people doing comics that comics had to start being ~unique~ (this usually ended up being grimdark without any irony). I even vividly remember one that, for whatever reason, had a fucking sex scene. off-screen. played off as half-humorous. while the pokemon watched. now i do think sex scenes can be good, but it's a comic about playing pokemon.

on the record, i never ever looked anything up about nuzlockes. this shit was just endemic to the places i hung out, as it is was to the fandom in general. apparently part of being into nuzlockes is having to talk about nuzlockes. which is how liking stuff usually works, but it's inconveniencing ME, so I don't like it.

in the places I hung out at the time, there was this whole "pokebro" culture on nuzlockes too. a good chunk of people played nuzlockes cuz it made you "bond" with your pokemon more. they added a rule, that you had to nickname your nuzlocke mons, y'know, to make their possible death "more impactful" or something. now I'm all for personifying bits of data. so fucking guilty here too. but c'mon. it didn't help that these people dialed the drama about it up to ten, too, holding memorials for their fallen mons and such.

i actually tried a nuzlocke at this time, cuz "maybe I'm just being a hater" and it was very much not fun for me. first of all, in contrast to the "pokebro" people above, knowing that these mons could be only temporary, i "bonded" with them less. Also, even with the best strategy and well balanced team, RNG could at any time randomly punish me, and the only way to avoid that is grind n overlevel til everything is a curbstomp. Neither of those sound like good times!

at this point, there was a vibe around the entire fandom that, well, if you're replaying a pokemon game and you're not doing a nuzlocke, well it just wasn't as Good as a nuzlocke. even if you were doing something different like a mystery egg run, or a solo run, or whatever, it was inferior. god forbid you play normally, what are you, some sort of coward?

now all of this was like late 4th gen / early 5th gen. so streaming was a niche hobby at the time. but then Twitch came to town and streaming became an actual thing. and for the people who were just playing the game (instead of shiny hunting or wifi battles or whatever), they were literally all doing nuzlockes. I've basically stopped going on twitch but up until the day I did, that was always a problem. you literally could not find someone playing the game normally. and god forbid, other types of playthroughs? unthinkable.

remember before how i mentioned when everyone was doing a comic, people tried to get unique about it? happened here too. well EVERYONE'S watched a nuzlocke, so how about a ~randomizer nuzlocke~? or, now with 6th gen here, they absolutely lost their shit. not even nuzlockes anymore, they were wonderlockes! oh that's not creative enough anymore, so now we're doing wedlockes! because what nuzlockes need is forced heterosexuality. fuck it let's throw them together we're doing wonder wedlockes! we can't just have a few arbitrary rules, we need a whole book of them.

again, there's nothing inherently wrong with any ot this. but i think it's incredibly dumb. y'all's can make up rules about how you need randomly obtained wondertrade zigzagoons and ralts from fans of known pedophile thekingnappy, and how they have to be heterosexually paired off, and how if one dies the other does too for some reason, but you can't use any of that brain power to think of literally any other way to play?

and this is about when I dropped out from the Pokemon fandom to my own little corner of shiny giveaway blogs before my computer died and i had to stop doing that as well. and i absolutely refuse to interact with the general pokemon fandom these days because it is just absolutely insufferable. and I'm happier as such.

but I know Nuzlockes are still unbearably prevalent. there are people out there who have huge fanbases and make profits off of doing nuzlocke videos. and because it's by far the most popular way to play Pokemon beyond just playing it normally, there are many people who don't even know that there are sooo many other ways to possibly play! and the cycle remains unbroken and the loop will continue

i am a spiteful little beast tho. a while back (8-10 yrs ago) i was working on a custom Emerald romhack and I put a few notably difficult battles early on to literally prevent the romhack from being nuzlocked. never finished it, unfortunately, but que sera sera! wish I had. that'd have been amazing. I'd even put up a sign saying fuck nuzlockes if I were to finish it. LOL

ghrrrrhhhhghhhhh I've had that brewing for such a long time it was good to get out

(yes, I know it's Not That Deep, but don't pretend like accidentally stepping into a murky puddle in your favorite shoes wouldn't put a damper on your day.)

[the-darklings]

—𝐭𝐢𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞;

⤫ pairing: johnny silverhand x corp!v(ermillion)

⤫ summary: Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them.

⤫ word count: 2.3k+

⤫ warnings: spoilers for act i & side mission the ballad of buck ravers, third person but can be read as RI ig, swearing, written in one sitting so who knows what the final result is - certainly not me. 

⤫ notes: let me leave my clown shoes outside.

It starts out the way it always does. 

One ring leads to another and she suddenly finds herself running or driving around the Night City with little to no rest, pulling one job after another. The more jobs she closes the more she seems to be in demand.

Good for business. Good for making a name for herself, too, but not so good on her overall being. 

She’s been running. Like a fucking coward. Filing her days with meaningless shit while trying desperately not to think about her ticking clock. About Jackie. 

Guilt gnaws on her bones daily. She should have done more, been better, more careful. Jackie never should have died. It was stupid and blind ambition that drove them both to try and pull this near impossible heist in the first place. Her own reckless drive has blinded her, and now the person closest to her in this fucking city is nothing more than a cold corpse. 

Fuck.

She should have sent him to his family instead. She only wanted to spare them from the grief of having to see Jackie in the state he was in but now Araska has his body and god knows what those assholes might be doing with it. 

And now…

Well she has nothing to lose, does she? She’s already dying, already hunted, her only close friend is dead. She promised to make him proud. Make it to the big leagues or make a league all on her own if that’s what it takes. Bleed this city dry if that’s the price to pay for what she wants. 

Back when she worked for Arasaka she wanted knowledge which led to power. Then she wanted guns and money and a roof over her head. 

Now she wants something more. After coming face to face with her own fragile morality, she has begun to realise how meaningless things like money and power are. Now she wants to surpass that. To become something immortal—something that will outlive her body. Maybe even outlive this city.  

Jackie should have been one of such people. 

“You look like you’re about to shit yourself,” a voice drawls from beside her, a crackle filling the air as a too familiar silhouette of a man appears in her sight. “Or cry.”

“Fuck off.”

V turns away from one Johnny Silverhand because it’s hard to look at him and not be reminded of the fact that she’s slowly dying and the construct only she can see and hear is the one doing the deed.

“This self-pitying bullshit needs to stop,” he says, ignoring her vicious words. “We share a brain, remember? I feel what you feel. It’s downright depressing in your head right now.”   

Her jaw clicks at the reminder. Everyday she wakes up and feels like they’re linked by a bridge—he stands on one side, and she on another. When they come closer, she can feel it—feel him. The overlap is near dizzying, overwhelming, even a little addictive. But it’s always followed by agony because she fights back, tries to shove him away. If not, he will consume her, but she will get him out of her head before that ever happens. 

You share a brain now, Vik had told her only days prior, his eyebrows knitted tight and—albeit subdued—but clear worry in his low voice, senses and memories, even perception. Eventually it will become impossible to tell whose who anymore. 

The worst thing is the fact that he’s right. 

She can feel Silverhand rooted inside her; a constant, a presence that is persistent to a point she knows she’s not alone even if she wishes to be. 

An echo of a being deep inside her.

“Then get the hell out,” she bites back, fighting to keep her temper leashed so she doesn’t burst out at him like she did at the diner. She can still remember the wary stares she received from the diners when she started shouting verbally at a figment only she could perceive in the first place. “I didn’t ask for a parasite to make himself home in my brain.”

Johnny scoffs under his breath, raising a cigarette to his mouth, and she’s nearly overcome with need to remind him that he’s fucking dead, and can’t smoke. That, and the fact that she would prefer him to leave her the fuck alone. 

“You did the job, didn’t ya? You sure you didn’t have this comin’?”

Flipping him off, she storms past him, her jaw clenched to appoint it aches and eyes narrowed. Just her luck not only to get stuck with a human tumour but for the said tumour to be a bastard to boot.  

So much for being buddies. 

Sun has set over Westbrook hours ago yet Chinatown is as busting with life as always. Overflowing with conversations all spoken in different languages, smells, distant gunshots, and people from all walks of life just trying to survive. Even during her years with the Arasaka, she never quite got used to the vastness of the Night City—not even when she was sure she was at the top. The way this city seems to breathe and fester day in and out; a living beast full of dangers and potential is unique. 

Lost in the crowd, it’s almost easy to forget who she is aside from another face in the said crowd. She’s not a merc, not an ex-corp working counterintelligence—she’s not anything. 

Her optics catch sight of several Tiger Claws lingering around the market, and she makes sure to give them a wide berth, especially when she notes the impressive list of their stats. She’s not stupid enough to attack outright when they outclass her—for now—and there are several of them around. With the market this busy the only outcome to that fight would be a bloodbath with police on her ass when that’s the last thing she needs right now. 

Despite that logical part inside her steering her well clear of the gang members the need to blow off some steam bubbles under her skin. An ache starts to form against her temple soon after, making her focus blur around the edges as she wanders from vendor to vendor aimlessly. 

“Hey, V,” a rumble of a voice cuts through her thoughts—and she hates how she can’t quite ignore his voice unlike everyone else—and turns her head in the direction of the call. She had foolishly assumed he was going to give her some peace of mind for tonight at least. “Check this guy out.”

Walking up a dimly lit staircase, she had barely noticed a man sitting on a rickety chair and playing a guitar. Much like her, others walk right past him, ignoring the man altogether. 

Johnny glimmers into sight, squatting in place and oddly intent on observing the old man while he plays.   

She entertains the idea of walking away simply to piss him off. If something is of interest to him, then she wants to ignore it so hard it gets under his nonexistent skin. Petty, perhaps, but ever so satisfying. 

Hearing no reply or receiving much reaction at all, Johnny slants his head her way, nodding once towards the man, “What do you think?”

Squinting, she drags her gaze towards the guitarist, crossing her arms over her chest while she listens. She’s not even sure why she’s bothering but…

The melody is slow, near drowned out by the bustling sounds of the nearby market and chatter of people walking past. 

“He’s...fine?” she offers lamely. “I mean he’s pretty good.”

A slight smirk crosses over Johnny’s mouth—gone in a blink but the focus he places on the man who seems to be unaware of her or the silent second spectator surprises her. 

“Loses tempo more than he keeps it,” he comments, almost absently, and she feels her eyebrows arch in another show of bewilderment. A quiet spells falls over their little nook, and Johnny listens more, thoughts rolling inside his head if his body language is any sign. “Sloppy on the technique but he has feeling in the way he plays. Can’t teach that.”

“If only you didn’t die,” she sighs softly, closing her eyes in mock sympathy. “This could have been you.”

He surprises her again by laughing at that. It’s a deep rumble of a sound, and she can almost feel it echo between them and their mental bridge. “You’re kinda of a bitch. Has anyone told you that before?”

Her teeth flash in the dim orange glow of the neon lights. “And you’re sort of a dick. Anyone tell you that before?” she wonders with a charming, practiced smile. 

He flickers out of sight and she’s about to call it a mental victory but a tickle of electricity kisses across the bare curve of her shoulder and neck, and she shivers when he appears beside her. His arms are crossed as well, and he glances her way briefly.

“Seems to me like we’re two peas in a fuckin’ pot, then,” he points out easily, and shakes his head, seemingly amused by his own words. “I might have tried to kill you a few weeks ago but look at us being chummy, Ver.”

Her throat closes up at that, expression tightening. He notices of course. Or maybe it’s the unease that slices through her mind at the casual way he uses her nickname. 

“What? Am I not allowed to call you that or somethin’?” he wonders curiously, seemingly entertained by her reaction. Asshole. 

“Only my friends call me Ver.”

Jackie was the first. 

That thought makes her swallow painfully, a dull ache clawing against her heart. One would think that years being a corpo would have wiped whatever humanity still lived in her but Jackie’s death had been a stark reminder that she couldn’t be further from the truth if she tried.  

“Why?”

She gives him a flat look. “Because my full name is Vermillion, but people tend to find it a mouthful so…”

“Vermillion,” he repeats, his intonation dry, and she shoots him a quick glare, daring him to make an issue of it. Naturally, his next words don’t surprise her, “That’s a stupid fuckin’ name.”

“Oh, because Johnny Silverhand is so much better.”

She expects him to say something snarky in return, argue maybe, but he only snorts. His metal hand lifts, pushing his aviators down slightly as he glances at her over them.

“You got me there.” 

Usually, they’re a calamity together—destructive and volatile as each other. But right now, just for a second, there is only music and them. Shadows and life of the Night City holding them both suspended in this moment. No arguments or biting comments. No guilt, either. 

A slight smile tugs across her mouth as she continues listening to the man play his downbeat little tune. Her shoulders loosen, drooping slightly and she lets herself breathe for a moment. Just the one. 

“Used to be just like him,” Johnny speaks up suddenly, his voice more subdued, lower, and taps his fingers against the cigarette he’s holding. “But better. Used to play everywhere we could. Garages, bars. Anywhere that would have us, and we always had an audience.”

She hums, offering him a brief glance. “You mean you were actually good?”

She can’t see his eyes in the darkness of the street or through his tinted shades. But despite that, she can still feel his glare and the mental bite of chagrin/irritation/why is she so annoying? and deeper than that a spark of amusement/little shit thinks she’s funny. 

“What’s this?” he muses, his words sarcastic. “A corpo rat that actually has a sense of humour? Colour me surprised.”

“No can do,” she shoots back promptly, fighting back a wider grin. “You’re too dead for that.”

He tsks, throwing his cigarette to the ground and she almost rolls her eyes. “Can’t wait to be out of your damn head, princess.” 

“Can’t wait to be rid of you, either, so the feeling is mutual.”

Their words might be stringent but she can almost taste the faint amusement trickling between them and under that bridge that connects them. 

“There might still be some bootlegs of those old days,” he muses thoughtfully. “People used to record everything back in my day.”

She drags her gaze his way, lips thinning into a firm line, “I’m not becoming a fan, if that’s what you’re hoping for.”

“Afraid you’ll hear real music and won’t be able to go back to this modern garbage I hear everywhere?”

There is challenge in his words and she bristles. Maybe this is what she needs. She may not be able to put holes in some Tiger Claws with her sniper rifle but she sure as hell can go on a scavenger hunt and see what she finds. 

Besides, it might help her to understand the man nested inside her mind a little better.

So when an hour later the old, wrinkly vendor asks her why he should give her his oldest, most precious Samurai vinyl, she tells him the truth. 

A twisted truth. 

But truth all the same.

“He’s with me every step I take, every move I make,” she confesses softly, something deep down breathing awake at that admittance. “Johnny’s like my conscience. My eternal, infernal moral compass.”  

She doesn’t miss how the man in question doesn’t appear, doesn’t say anything even after hearing that. She would have figured he would be the first in line to offer her some mocking, snarky comment but there is only silence. 

In fact, she can barely feel him at all. The tether between them is still and quiet. 

And his silence says a lot more than he probably realises. 

.

an: hello. guess whose not dead and kinda back to writing. dunno how much of cp77 you should expect because coa is still my priority but maybe occasional fic for these dumbos is on the cards. oh, and takemura because cdpr are cowards for not giving us that enemies to friends/partners to lovers romance. also I know this isn’t strictly RI and I honestly considered writing it as such but saw...no point? since the premise still would have been the same, so something a little different today ig. 

[everlarkficexchange]

Rule #9

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 6: Modern AU. High School or College Everlark. Make the “booth Kiss” but Everlark! Peeta is the big brother of Katniss best friend, and she never imagined rule number #9 would become a problem. “Rule #9: Relatives of your best friend are off-limits.” [submitted by @alwayseverlark]

Rated: Teens and Up (rating will change in later chapters)

Tags: Canon Divergent; ‘The Kissing Booth’ (Netflix) Everlark crossover!AU; Canon disability; Slight age difference; Language; Snarky!Everlark; More tags will be added on AO3.

Notes: Thank you @alwayseverlark for the prompt… I remember when The Kissing Booth first came out a bunch of us started Everlarking the movie, but I guess neither of us ever finished it… Oops! Anyway, this is just an introduction of the fic; the rest will be posted to AO3 in chapters. I’ve already written a good chunk of it, but it still needs editing and polishing. I hope this little snippet is enough to get you going until then!

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

It’s the last Friday of summer break, and I think I’m gonna faint. The air is muggy, the sun is hot, the pool water a few yards in front of me looks inviting and refreshing, yet, I couldn’t move a muscle to save my life if I wanted to.

I arrived home from a 5 week retreat for disabled athletes, and after dumping the smelly contents of my duffle bag into the washer, I peeled off my shirt, shoes and socks and made my way to our family pool, just to be confronted by an unexpected sight.

I’ve been staring at my baby brother’s best friend in the tiniest, neon orange bikini in history, for what has to be up to a solid minute now.

“You’re such a pest, Rye!” She yells from behind a lounge chair, loading with darts a brightly colored nerf gun.

My brother is standing in the middle of the pool, aiming his water blaster in her direction, “Yeah? You think so, Kani?” Ryen mocks— ‘Kani’ isn’t her real name, though. Rye just had trouble pronouncing it properly when he was a baby, and the nickname stuck— “Eat chlorine!” He blasts his bestie as soon as she moves from her cover to shoot at him.

Is a typical scene, really. A summer staple of our childhood: my brother— Rye— chasing little tomboy, Katniss Everdeen, around the pool while shooting some toy projectile at each other; except this time the swell of Katniss’ breasts, the flare of her hips, and even the miles upon miles of sun kissed, olive skin, glimmering under the sun with water droplets scattered all over her body, gave me panting and straining.

I don’t remember her looking this way at the beginning of summer!

Objectively speaking, Katniss has always been cute, but she’s also another one of the ‘guys’, invariably tougher than Ryen, and completely out of bounds.

“I’m warning you, Ryen Mellark…surrender, or prepare to get your butt handed to you!” She roars.

“Bring it on, Kani!”

In typical Katniss and Rye fashion, her massive nerf gun gets dropped on the terra-cotta tiles for the patio, as she leaps into the pool to rough-house him.

My eyes follow her graceful ass with tunnel vision narrowness. A disgusting appreciative half moan-half grunt, escapes the back of my throat involuntarily. Worse of it is what happens below my waist, where my shorts are tenting and my muscles twitch.

“Fuck!” I heave under my breath. I can’t let Rye see me like this!

Nothing good will come of my brother noticing the effect Katniss has on my body. Rye is obsessively overprotective of her, their bond is one of the most unique, strong and special things I’ve seen, and I don’t dare messing it up.

You wouldn’t be able to tell, just looking at our house, our cars, Dad’s sprawling business, our high end education, or our perceived wealth, but our family life hasn’t been a field of flowers exactly. At times, Katniss was the only sliver of light and hope in Ryen’s existence, and vice versa when tragedy struck the Everdeens, Rye was Katniss’ sole source of understanding and companionship. They’re equally dependent on each other.

It's time to get back inside. A cold shower is in order.

My daydreams of shedding my fake leg and falling into the pool to relax in the weightlessness of the water after my long ass drive, will have to wait.

I step backwards into the living room, but my real, bare foot lands on a nerf dart. The squishy material startles me; I trip, narrowly catching myself against the open French doors.

“Shit!”

The skirmish behind me comes to an abrupt end, and I shift in place, to face them.

My brother’s eyebrows are arched, watching me quizzically. Even with one prosthetic leg I’m usually very sure footed.

“When did you get home?” Rye demands, hoisting himself out of the pool.

“About 10 minutes ago. Where’s dad?”

Rye shrugs, “Take a wild guess,”

So, the bakery then. Dad owns a chain of bakeries state wide, but he’s the head baker in the original shop, here in town.

I try to keep my eyes on Rye, chanting in my head: don’t look at her, don’t look at her, don’t look at her… it isn’t working! My eyes stray to Katniss all the same.

She climbs out of the pool as well, and it’s all I can do to not stare like a creep, as the rivulets of pool water drip down between her breasts and limbs.

I swallow harshly before rasping out the first thing that comes to mind. “Hey Rye, have you seen my jockstrap, I’m doing laundry.”

‘Jockstrap? Really? Smooth you moron!’

I have to suppress the urge to groan.

Ryen rolls his eyes, “Yeah, I just wore it this morning during all my sport tryouts.”

His sarcastic quip makes Katniss laugh. A sound I’ve found mesmerizing ever since I can remember. Her syren call is too strong to resist.

I turn in her direction, and again, my mouth runs with the first thing that comes to mind. “Everscream, are those new?” I point at her chest, making a vague circle gesture. I’m such an idiot!

“What?” She looks down at herself confused. I can pinpoint the moment she realizes I’m referring to her boobs.

Normally, Katniss would fix me with a scowl for the nickname she hates so much, but at 17 she’s so pure, my comment about her chest just causes her sparkly gray eyes to widen in shock. Her cheeks turn a deep shade of pink, and she plops down into the nearest lounger, scrambling to pull a towel over herself.

“There’s nothing new here!” She snaps, scowling at her knees for a second. She turns her flaming gaze back on me. “Hey, Peeta, have you ever heard of a detangler? Is a grooming product that can help tame that rat’s nest you call hair! By the way, put a shirt on, you look like a hobo!”

Rye guffaws, and even I have to smirk.

She isn’t wrong. I could use some shampoo and maybe some conditioner as well; washing my hair only with the cheap bar of soap from the athletic villa for a month has taken its toll on my poor head.

“Whatever dorks. Just keep it quiet, will ya? I have a hot date with the couch and Netflix, and I don't want you two intruding in my ‘me’ time with your racket.”

I go back inside, my brother and his best snigger by the pool like they always do. I want to turn around and fling the dart I stepped on at Rye, but I know starting a war with them would just prolong my exposure to Katniss in a tiny bikini, and I just can’t endure that torture anymore.

[alicemitch09writes]

lame

04.

a fist full of fuck you

Junior school was always a rough patch for you and Izuku, especially because it was the reign of Bakugou Katsuki amongst the horde of crazy pubescent teens. On the first day at Aldera Junior High, he had made it clear that he was going to rule the school and become top, leaving the two of you out the dust.

Of course, with an acquired quirk and confidence like his, it was easy to assert his dominance. And with his rising fame and sheer dominance, the two of you were immediately cast out, because you didn’t have quirks. (It was easy to hide the fact that you had a nocturnal quirk anyway)

Throughout junior high, your only friend was Izuku, you didn't mind. But despite being the 'quirkless girl' nobody dared to cross you because you were a bit of a delinquent, a bona fide fighter who could beat anyone – with a quirk or not, to a pulp. Still, you tried to avoid fights for Izuku’s sake, your family name’s sake, and because you didn’t want to give in to their jeers. (You also had that annoying promise to keep.)

Due to your closeness, rumors began to spread of your relationship with Izuku, which you didn't correct. After all, nobody seemed to give two shits when you were younger, nor do they seem to care now. So, what was the point anyway? Izuku was your best friend, he was like a brother to you. He felt the same.

And as for Bakugou? Well, he was happy in his own little bubble, reigning, terrorizing, the occasional name-calling towards you or Izuku, casting explosions as a warning whenever your paths crossed.

It was your last year, if you could remember perfectly, your teacher had just passed out papers, happily announcing that everyone was going to take heroics. Beside you, you could see Izuku meekly shrinking in himself as the whole class went wild at the prospect of getting into a kickass school, especially granted with their own unique talents. Scoff.

However, Bakugou rose as the best – of course, besting everyone, even receiving praise from your ass of a teacher. He had no problem with calling them out as worthless extras to his great glory.

Per the norm, you and Izuku were alienated by the whole thing, but it didn’t phase you one bit. But when your teacher announced Izuku’s desire to enter UA, that’s when you phased, as his announcement caused everyone in the class to go deathly silent.

A smile immediately crossed your lips as you turned to your best friend, meeting his gaze and giving a supportive thumbs up when the class exploded into laughter. The smile turned into a scowl at the motherfuckers you call your classmates, even your teacher! Pathetic really.

“Izuku, pay them no mind-“

An explosion blasted before you could finish, the force causing the green-haired boy to jump back. Alarmed, you immediately were on your feet, watching as Bakugou lashed out on your friend. Venomous, mocking words were leaving his mouth, causing your friend to shrink even more, the class watching in glee as the school’s top student was putting the reckless boy in his place.

Having enough, you ran towards your friend, angrily shouldering the blond boy aside, crouching a little to offer a hand. “Izuku, can you stand?”

At the sight of you, his eyes lit, hands just reaching out to take yours before one of your classmates jeered behind you.

“Oh look, it’s the quirkless girl out to help the quirkless boy! How cute!”

“Haven’t you heard? She’s not taking heroics, she’s just gonna head to some generic lame-ass quirkless school to be with the rest of her lame ass quirkless normies. What a loser!”

“Just as I thought, the quirkless gotta stick together!”

The class laughed at that.

“And what of it?” you said, Izuku finally on his feet, his eyes turned to you. Giving him a reassuring look, you looked over your shoulder to your classmates with an impassive look. “So, what if I get to be with my fellow quirkless normies? At least I can feel normal and less of a freak like the lot of you.”

“W-What?”

“Stupid little quirkless bitch-”

“Quirkless, quirkless, quirkless. Wow, that’s really all you guys seem to care about. Why, jealous of us normies who don’t have to worry about shit aside from living peacefully? And as far as I know, maybe the lot of you will turn out as rejects since not all your quirks are as great as they seem. I don’t have to half-ass my so-called talent because there’ll definitely be others better than me.” leveling your eyes with carmine, you could see him grinding his teeth, a deep scowl on his features, you flashed one last playful smirk before you gave the last word “not many will actually care for the filth you all are actually are.”

Feeling a tug, you smiled brightly at Izuku, no longer shrunken but back to his normal self, before heading back to your seats, acting as if nothing happened.

Class resumed awkwardly, you being completely unfazed by the glaring looks from your classmates and dozed off easy.

Later that day, you were sitting on your desk, slightly refreshed because the day was ending. Bag in hand waiting patiently for your friend to finish packing so you both could go home; smiling at Izuku as he relayed the events that happened earlier that day.

“Eh, that sounds pretty exciting, Izuku. Well then, you better get home and write it all down!” you say encouragingly, feet swinging.

“Yes!” Setting his phone down, he lifted his Hero Analysis notebook, eyes sparkling with excitement at the notion of writing a new analysis on the heroes he’s seen.

Suddenly, the notebook was forcibly taken from him by Bakugou, who seemed unpleased at their ‘unfinished’ business earlier during homeroom. Two of Bakugou’s goonies appeared, laughing at the notebook in his hand.

“What the fuck?” Hopping off, you walked up the blond angrily. “Will you give it a rest already?”

“Kacchan,” shrieked your friend, standing from his seat. “give it back!”

Instead of returning it, the blond blew up the notebook, causing it to char, before tossing it easily out the window. Izuku screamed, completely at a loss of words. Angrily, your glared deepened at the blond, who didn’t bother looking your way as he headed towards the door breezily, goonies behind him.

Bakugou had always been a bully to both you, especially towards Izuku. It was so petty and cliché really, you wanted to throw up.

Long when you were younger, Izuku was always a target for Bakugou’s wrath, an easy pedestal to step over just to feel good about himself, a dummy he can just beat over and over because he can. It made you sick.

Gone were the happy days of you three, happily going about with your innocence, forever tarnished by quirks that branded you instantly the moment you had one. Gone were those days.

As for you? He didn’t even bother. You were a waste of space because you fought back, so there was no pleasure picking on a tomboy who could fight back and care less. It was always easier to aim for the weaker link.

But for Izuku, you had to be brave for you both. After all, you were his only best friend, his shield.

Worriedly, you turned to your friend, hating the crestfallen look on his face, reaching out to him.  “Izuku-“

“If you want to be a hero so much, there is an efficient way. Believe to have a quirk in your next life” your hand froze in mid-air; the world had gone silent. “and dive off from the school roof. “

Silence.

A beat of silence.

A twitch.

And then, a beat, a hitch.

Suddenly, you saw red.

Just as he finished his sentence, a heavy fist slammed into his jaw, knocking him back against the door with a loud clatter, as though it were ready to break off from the hinges, alarming students on the other side.

“(NICKNAME)!”

Breathing heavily, you dropped your hand to your side, your fingers were shaking uncontrollably, balling them into fists didn’t help the anger seething through your blood, seeping into your bones, nails biting painfully into your skin.

Watching the blond get knocked on his ass did little to give you satisfaction, especially when his words rang over and over in your head still.

If you want to be a hero so much, there is an efficient way. Believe to have a quirk in your next life and dive off from the school roof.

Had you been calmer, you would’ve seen the absolute shock on his face, eyes locked on you.

One minute you were next to Deku, the next, you were in front of him, punching him with everything you had. It was quite the punch, judging from how the door rattled so much that it opened a little.

Coming to his senses, he nearly stumbled back on his feet, grabbing at your collar, snarling. “You-“

“Fuck you,” you all but said in one exhale, voice shaky and words full of anger and venom. Words that matched your eyes – so full of anger and venom.

It was all it took for both your friends to turn to you, shock at the amount of hatred falling out of your usually calm demeanor. But as they say, one can only handle so much before they break.

Bakugou’s hold loosened, faltering at the words leaving your mouth, at the eyes burning deep into his own.

“Fuck you, fuck your aspirations, fuck your friends” your eyes rose, angrily turning to the gazes of the two boys behind you, who flinched at the anger emanating off you. “fuck everyone in this school and fuck your quirk.” There was a sharp intake of breath, coming from him. It made you scoff. “Because let’s face it, Bakugou, without your quirk, you might as well be fucking worse than a dead fuck.”

Those infamous last words of yours, that signified and solidified the death of whatever relationship you had with him, giving you the expression on his face, that was plenty satisfaction.

Izuku had to physically take you away, grabbing both your bags as you left the room. He had to calm you down, extremely worried to see you so worked up. Gulping, he squeezed your hand, green eyes searching for yours. Weakly, you squeezed back, a feeble smile on your face. That was plenty.

As the two of you turned a corner, the green-haired teen froze beside you, turning to him in confusion, you followed his gaze, heart twisting at his fallen Hero Analysis notebook that was being poked by the fishes.

“Stop eating it,” he muttered, voice weak. “it’s not fish food.”

“Izuku…” you called out, worried about the way his shoulders hunched, posture rigid.

If you want to be a hero so much, there is an efficient way. Believe to have a quirk in your next life and dive off from the school roof.

Balling your hands into fists, you could feel the anger boiling, threatening to take over. No. Instead, you walked up to your friend, took the wet notebook from his hand, and waved it in the air, water splattering everywhere in the process.

“(N-Nickname), be careful of the pages!” he cried, you stopped only when the dull look in his eyes disappeared. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. The favour returned.

Satisfied that it was semi-dry, you appeared by Izuku’s side, browsing through the pages – which miraculously were still readable despite getting wet. Each page, you bugged Izuku to explain what was written, he’d readily go on about what he wrote and more.

Hearing him speak calmed you, but it reminded you of the absolute fear in his face from earlier, your heart clenched – that was not you. So, you swore never to get that angry in front of him again. Also, Bakugou Katsuki was nothing but a dead fuck to you.

And yet, why did you feel like dying at that moment? Why did a part of you die thereafter?

It was the worse day of your life.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

But the worst was yet to come.

One phone call.

One phone call was it took.

One call from your grandfather, urging you to come home.

“L-Listen carefully to what I’m going to say, (Name), okay?”

Never had you heard your grandfather, the feared Shihan of your family, the stoic, cranky old man, in tears, sounding so weak, so afraid.

“I-It’s about your parents…”

Amidst the infamous Sludge Incident, you received word of your parents’ death, they were killed in action by villains.

Was the universe playing with you? Did the impact of the punch you gave Bakugou earlier rebound and knock you out?

Suddenly, the anger from earlier immediately dissipated, replacing it with a feeling as though someone had pierced into your soul, taking everything there is about you.

Numb.

A numbing sense washed over you, unable to take any valid information, make sense of your environment, or even your senses.

Heavy.

Everything felt heavy, your heart, your body – everything.

All you knew was that your heart was in pieces, tears wouldn’t stop pouring for days, and your life would never be the same again.

“(Name), what do you want to be when you grow up?”

“Eh? Uh…um…”

“Don’t you want to be a hero like me and mama?”

“Should I be?”

“Well, according to family tradition, yes.”

“But how about according to you guys?”

“Us?”

“Well, actually, we’d be happier with whatever you want. Just so long as it makes you happy.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“…so, even if I want to be a gang leader?”

“Don’t push it, (Name).”

“Heh, kidding! I love you, Ma, Pa!”

“Getting cheekier and cheekier every day.”

"She is your daughter, after all."

For a whole week, you missed school to mourn.

Your mind too caught up in the loss of the two people you cared for the most in the world to even worry about your education.

Everything was a blur, a complete blur to you.

Understandably, everyone understood. Your grandfather. Auntie Inko. Auntie Mitsuki. Uncle Masaru. Especially Izuku, who came over to check on you from time to time. And during the burial, he held your hand. Tight. Warm. An assurance.

(Somewhere, you could have sworn you saw blond – aside from Auntie Mitsuki but paid no mind.)

When your parents died, so did a part of you.

The week after, you came back a hollow of a person you once were. Coming back to school, you were prepared for the onslaught of jeers and hatred, after giving Bakugou a beatdown last time, yet, all you got were condolences from everyone. That didn’t bother you much and just went on with life.

People were better. You suppose that’s what happens when people realize how much loss can affect someone.

Recovering was hard.

Every day hurts.

Every second was a reminder of loss.

Every waking hour felt like a bitter pill.

You just wanted to scream, to wreak havoc, to let it all out.

But how could you?

Since their deaths, you'd have nightmares of the time your parents left for their mission, in which they never came back. It was worst with insomnia wrought by your quirk, in fact, the grief made it worse. You were barely sleeping at all!

Izuku noticed just how tired and depressed you were, was the first to reach out to you. It was what you loved about him - he was selfless and full of compassion. Even as he suddenly went on a strange body regiment – that seemed to tax him physically and mentally, he was always there to keep you afloat. As opposed to Bakugou, who went out to call out on you two.

Still, after punching him in the face and the death of your parents on the same day, he was less menacing towards you, Izuku even.

It didn’t change the fact that the blond was dead to you, deader than your parents.

However, you did notice cans of coffee on your desk during lunchtime, or after a period where you slept in. Sometimes, there’d be an apple before the first period. One time, you could have sworn to hear explosions followed by angered shushing as you dozed off at the clinic.

There was a time, when you two crossed paths, both of you were silent, staring at each other. Carmine eyes stared into your dull (e/c) ones, his filled with worry and concern. But neither of you said a word, you just walked past him, dismissing him entirely.

Eventually, you found yourself applying for a part-time job, trained harder with your grandfather, all these to distract you, at least. And it worked, for a time.

You just weren’t sure about the other void.

masterlist • five

[burnedbyshoto]

the marriage contract

chapter one: [begin this journey.]

— Just because your soulmate is Bakugou Katsuki doesn’t mean that he’s the one meant for you; in fact, he’s your worst enemy. With trouble brewing across the way, and with no one able to complete this job except you and Bakugou, there’s nothing you can do except go along with the mission. But wait, what?! You’re supposed to be married?!

pairing: pro hero!bakugou katsuki x pro hero fem!reader

chapter warnings: cursing

word count: 4,093

a/n: in this enemies to lovers story, only you get to decide whether you remain enemies, or if you succeed in becoming lovers. the choice to make is at the end of the story, good luck :D also, background on your quirk (sorry, I had to give you a quirk in order for this to work the way i see fit.) I won’t lie, im really nervous about all this... hopefully this is fun and won’t come and bite me in the ass.

Quirk: Water Sprout - using water from your body, you are able to extract and then use the water (that comes from your body or has come in direct contact with your fingertips) freely. Drawbacks include constant dehydration, dizziness, headaches.

bolded choice is the answer. ~ {masterlist}

[Begin this journey.]     [Turn back now.]

relationship status: enemies.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

Cosmic and gods, there was nothing in this world that proved these existed.

Nothing.

Nothing in this world could show the nonbeliever that there was an outside force in the world that made people suspect that there were otherworldly ties. Not the appearance of quirks, which was proven to be a genetic mutation as part of humans' evolution, and even the sudden and ancient appearance of The Contract did anything to solidify this - well, at least to some.

Quirks were easy to understand.

Powers, drawbacks, uniqueness.

Oh, it was something that was still so new to the world that people enjoyed it so, but for The Contract, oh how that was different.

The Contract was what was the name of the world wide know phenomenon more known merely as soulmates. Everyone had a fated one, and you would know who they were because every once in a while, a simple choice would appear before you.

A this or that situation.

You would pick one of the options, and somewhere out in the world, there was a person who, despite their own free will, would succumb to your choice. It was as simple as choosing to make someone double knot or single knot their shoes, or sometimes as hard as pulling the plug on a stranger, you had no idea existed. But it had been generations since it had first appeared, and people had grown to accept the inevitable. Which, in turn, brought out new problems.

Soulmates, while fundamentally and theoretically excellent and good, seemed to shock people by the work that needed to be put into them to succeed. Two souls that were perfect for each other didn’t guarantee two people were perfect for one another. The blind, false, true love these people bragged and teetered on was ridiculous and often led to horrible breaks within soulmate bonds. People did not understand that soulmates - just as any other relationship - needed time to fester and grow. It wasn’t an over the counter remedy, it was two people trying to find similarities other than the gods and the cosmics wanting this.

It was rather rough, to say the least.

Most people didn’t mind the growth, waiting for their soulmate to become the person meant for them. Others, well, you were the perfect example of it.

Your entire life, you had thought your soulmate was an asshole, well, scratch that, he IS an asshole. Every chance he got, he would always pick the worst of the two options. He chose for you to reject pursuers in your school days, to trip your siblings, to yell at your parents when you were upset. He picked for you to get up early in middle school and train, to study for tests right when you were about to go out with friends. He was obviously picking the worst things for you (not that you were any better), and so by the bitter age of fifteen when you were put into Shiketsu High School, you were glad to pledge to be someone who wouldn’t accept the soulmate shit for anything.

If he was your soulmate, so be it, but he would never be your lover.

Things in high school and your last year of middle school went reasonably well, the choices the two of you had to make were simple enough. The worst one you remember seeing late one night at the beginning of summer break during your last year of middle school, two options illuminating before you.

[Accept his offer.]     [Decline his offer.]

There was no context for your choice.

But there had been a pit in your stomach, something telling you to chose the bottom one, and you did. Nothing consequential came from that, and you forgot about it with time.

High school went on with usual choices; both of you continue to choose the lesser of two options from what you could tell. The worst thing was rejecting your senior who had asked you out on a date (something he had told you to keep a secret from the school officials), and you had really wanted to go on a date with him… but nonetheless, you survived. Fresh out of high school with your official Hero License under your belt, you had been accepted into Rising Agency, a very new agency founded by a class older than you over at Yuuei - Class 1-A.

The prominent faces being hero Deku, Ground Zero, and Shouto.

Somehow you had passed the interview selection and had been accepted, and your first day went horribly. On account of your quirk, Water Sprout, you had woken up with a mouth drier than a desert, and like you always did, you grabbed your liter bottle and went to chug.

Only two options popped before your eyes the moment you moved the water to your parched mouth.

[Spill the water.]     [Safely drink the water.]

You had tried your hardest to get your lip to the opening, but you knew better. During the time The Contract appeared, time literally froze. Your soulmate was given up to fifteen seconds to choose the answer before the first choice was automatically selected. You had tried to suppress the scream at the back of your throat when the cold, cold water came splashing down on your chest. Spraying all over your bed.

The scream you made when you were soaked to the bone no doubt made your soulmate smile wherever he was.

So you were glad when his options appeared before you a few minutes later.

[Break the sink faucet.]      [Turn off the water.]

With a sniff, you held no remorse when your hand jammed out and hit the option he deserved.

You had arrived at the agency's front door within the next hour, your most formal business clothes were worn fresh and sharp. Your hand held your case with your hero costume and nerves at your stomach. This was it, you had thought, your hands sweating profusely, your mouth so dry you felt faint, and with a quick chug of your water, you entered the facility.

The agency smelled like Pine-Sol and sweets, and you found the front desk immediately but were off-put by a man who was already there. His back hunched over, arms crossed, and placed onto the counter as he seemed to be arguing with the receptionist.

Nearer and nearer you drew, and the more you began to recognize just who the man was: Ground Zero.

Calm down, calm down, calm down.

Your heart hammered viciously in your chest as you were finally in earshot of the conversation - it seemed that he was fighting over his new time slots for his routine patrols. But you were no stranger to his… vivacious temperament, and instead of addressing him first, you figured it was in the best interest to simply ask the receptionist what your first steps should be.

But as you opened up your mouth, your internal monologue of what to say blaring on repeat so that you wouldn’t mess up, the world froze, and you panicked.

[Ace the introduction.]      [Fumble the introduction.]

The world was still for five seconds, but never did you ever once experience someone moving within The Contract. So, when Ground Zero’s hand moved and punched in an option that was mirrored right in front of your mouth, you immediately felt the blood in your cheeks from seeing him recoil back to your heart faster than you could blink.

“Hi, I’m Hero, and I’m new? I’m looking for the y/l/n room?”

Horror struck through you immediately at the realization.

Ground Zero was yours...?

He was your…?!

You saw red.

“Hah? What kind of introduction was -- WHAT THE FUCK?!”

Your fist throbbed pathetically still curled near his face, and Ground Zero’s blazing, burning red gaze matched the blood pouring from his busted nose as you panted like a corned animal.

“YOU MADE ME WET MY BED, ASSHOLE!”

So went your first interaction with your soulmate.

Your fist connecting and shattering his nose. Three of his friends holding him back, and three trying to escort you away quickly. It was indeed one for the books.

But that was three years ago, and at the age of twenty-one, you could still not handle the sight, or the presence of your soulmate, and vice versa. The both of you were like oil and water, conflicting and fighting whenever left together for too long, unable to get along. He was not meant for you, and you were not meant for him - it was evident like night and day.

Right decisions were made, however, once knowing who the other one was. The both of you taking track of each other’s patrol schedules to make sure good choices were made at that time, just in case, but as soon as the other was off, payback was a bitch. The entire agency had learned that both of you were soulmates the same day the both of you found out, and there were actual looks of sorrow given to you from his friends?!

Not to mention that his nickname for you was bedwetter now, something that both infuriated and embarrassed you to this day.

Both of you were separated at all times, never once having to work together, that is, until today. A time where we find ourselves back in the beginning.

“You’re fucking with me, right?”

A part of you wanted to roll your eyes at Bakugou’s quip, but in all consideration, you agreed with him ultimately.

“Unfortunately, I’m not,” Yaoyorozu sighed, her mouth pinched and her hands passing both you and Bakugou a small stack of documents for you to read over. You took your file after placing your water bottle down and opened it immediately as Yaoyorozu continued to speak. “Kane, Bryan is an American man who has recently been on Japan’s watchlist. He is highly dangerous, evasive, and a hard man to pin anything on… all we know is that innocent people are going missing when they enter his land, and undercover heroes end up in the sea with no memories, or worse, dead.”

That took you by surprise, and your stomach twisted at that thought.

Heroes have turned up dead?

“I don’t doubt the seriousness that this Kane man brings, but no offense, Creati, why does it have to be a mission for Ground Zero and I?” you asked, your eyes flittering from the blurred photo of the man on your page onto the slightly frowning commandeer of this agency. “We aren’t exactly… a good fighting duo? If what I think you’re asking is correct, why not send in Deku and Ground Zero? They have the best duo track record, I’m sure that they’ll be able to apprehend this man better and faster than we can.”

Yaoyorozu sighed, her teeth tugging at her bottom lip while her fingers drummed on the table, obviously not comfortable telling the full explanation.

“Well, to be honest, he stays on a remote island nearby, and it’s very exclusive.”

You owlishly blinked at Yaoyorozu, who straightened in her chair, a new air of confidence flowing through her that made you almost ask if a choice had been made for her.

“Kane owns a private island that is known for its resort, and to enter the resort, there must be two truths to this,” her eyes were holding yours for a moment, they were deep, so dark that for a second you felt fear tickle at the back of your spine before she turned her attention over to Bakugou. “One: those who may enter must be in a romantic relationship.”

What?

“Two: they must be soulmates.”

“WHAT?!”

You blinked, your head snapping over at Bakugou, who had yelled the same words as you did, obviously not impressed with what they were now enforcing. Oh god, this was not what you were thinking at all!

“Why the hell does it have to check off those two boxes? I’m not going somewhere obviously dangerous and in the middle of nowhere with bed wetter!” Bakugou growled, his feet planted onto the floor as he had his upper lip pulled into a sour face of sorts. “I’ll do it with literally anyone else, ponytail!”

“Unfortunately, that’s not an option,” she sighed, her hand pushing through her bangs with a sad shake of her head. She looked tired, and her exhaustive eyes rose to meet yours, and his, and her voice was weak and oh so pleading. “There is some way they can tell if you’re soulmates, and those we sent out who weren’t already soulmates never made it in. You two are quite literally our only option, without the two of you, we don’t stand a chance.”

“So, can we act as estranged lovers then?” you questioned, your stomach twisting in the thought of having to display any sort of romantic displays with the man sitting right next to you. “We can be a couple trying to work on our relationship?”

Yayorozu gulped.

“W-We actually made profiles for the two of you…”

“And?” came Bakugou’s near whisper.

“Y-You’ll be acting as a, well, a newly married couple. This is your honeymoon… I know you two don’t have a good history, and your on field teamwork has never been tried, but I’m pleading to you two now, please consider. You have until tomorrow to tell me if you accept.”

If there had been a choice that appeared for Bakugou to make you slam your head through the desk, you would have thanked him for choosing it.

[Carry all the bags]     [Take only his bags.]

“Thank you!” you chirped with no pity for the situation you had just placed him in, the glint of a sneer flashing across Bakugou’s face was fierce as he took the bags of luggage the two of you had been given from your agency. This was it, it was starting.

The weight of what was to come of this was now starting to hit heavily, the importance of the diamond ring on your finger - a symbol of the fake marriage contract between you and Bakugou felt like a ton. There was no hiding the discomfort the both of you held when you had to act in love, your hand itching to leave his clammy, abnormally warm hands, and you never realized how he mumbled under his breath until you were forced to sit next to him on the private plane. But as you were given two days to prepare for this mission, it didn’t hit you what was happening until you unloaded from the plane.

From the initial observation of the island, you immediately recognized just why the owner was so elusive and able to keep his agenda hidden. The island's natural barriers were bright as day, the rocky mountains seemed entirely inhabitable, and the entire resort was located where the mountains met the beach. Tropics and natural waterholes existed in those parts before slowly blending into the white sand beaches with water so blue and clean that you genuinely wished you would be having a good time.

You hated having to remind yourself that you were here for the sake of a mission and not to simply lay out, well, it was easy to forget that until Bakugou was beside you, and you fought the instinctive reaction to scowl at him. In fact, with your gaze falling onto the blond-haired hero, you didn’t notice the small woman appearing from nowhere, a bright smile on her face and white linen clothes on

“Welcome to Hibani Island!” she chirped, her eyes closing in well-practiced greetings, she spoke with an accent, and with her appearance, you assumed she was American. “My name is Jane, and I’m here to welcome you to our wonderful island! May I please have your names and the choice you had upon arrival?”

Your greeting smile disappeared at that point, your head tilting in confusion, “I’m sorry, our choice?”

“Mhm!” Jane nodded enthusiastically, the same bright smile plastered on her face. “Our wonderful island works in mysterious ways! As you both know, our beautiful resort is only for those who are soulmates; after all, we would never wish to poison her beautiful nature with impure love! Upon entry, with the help of the island, I am able to procure a choice for you and your soulmate to make! Since I posed the question to you,” her glazed over eyes focused on you, “I would appreciate it if your partner answered!”

There was a silence, and it couldn’t have lasted any more than a few seconds in all reality. But in that still, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up, there was obviously something entirely wrong here.

“A choice about who would carry the luggage in,” Bakugou calmly, smoothly answered, his voice somehow not picking up on any suspicion. “Be -- Y/n chose that I would carry them all.”

The way your name passed his lips made your spine stiffen, it felt weird, unnatural, fake.

Well, this entire thing is fake, you reminded yourself, grateful that Jane was at the moment impressed by Bakugou’s correct statement.

“Well, wonderful! I’m so glad that our island can greet two beautiful soulmates today! Your names? So that I may check you both in?”

“Nakamura Katsuki and Y/n.”

“Amazing! Let’s get you to the main lobby, and they’ll set you two love birds up!”

Thankfully, Jane was a woman who didn’t mind talking to herself the entire way over to the resort’s main lobby, she spoke wonders of how the hot springs were especially “magically” at night, and promised that a trip during that time would lead to “the best of fantasies.” The resort itself was oddly busy. Couples were everywhere, each in their own world, yet all orbiting around one another, never once mixing.

The white sundress you wore suddenly felt too simple, especially with the stupid designer wear most people were wearing.

Jane escorted you to the front desk, and with one last overenthusiastic smile, she disappeared.

“Check us in, Joo Dee just about made me fucking lose it,” Bakugou grumbled, his patience hanging on a much thinner thread than yours apparently.

“Glad to know it takes only one super smiley person to ruin your day,” you couldn’t help but snip, the rolling of your eyes only stopped when the front desk clerk began to walk over, a bright smile on his face, and his hand waving in greeting.

You opened your mouth, ready to begin talking when his welcome rang clearly in your ears, but just as it happened all those years ago, the world froze.

[Ace the introduction.]     [Fumble the introduction.]

The prideful, arrogant smirk on his face seemed to burn into your back as he stared from behind you.

“Hi, I would like it.”

Your voice gave out, and with burning cheeks, you and the front desk clerk stared at each other, the awkward silence biting into your throat. The clerks’ smile, breaking slightly in his second-hand embarrassment and wonder as to why you stopped talking, but despite wanting to continue speaking your voice refused to work again.

Bakugou Katsuki was an asshole.

“Are you here to check in?” he asked, his eyes searching yours in hopes that was what you were here for.

With a burning face, you nodded, and the check-in proceeded.

The clerk, who introduced himself as Ryan Locke, quickly checked you and Bakugou into your rooms. He pulled out a simple paper map and circled the small house - yes, small house - that the two of you would be residing in. Just as the package the two of you purchased, both of you would be here in two months, and the entire time everything would be included. Name it, and it would be brought to the room, well, house. You nodded, trying to take everything he was throwing at you in, not at all relying on Bakugou, who was standing by the window staring at the other guests with a frown on his face.

PDA was not something either one of you were comfortable with.

“Well, that’s it from me! Should you need any assistance, please do not hesitate to call!” Ryan smiles, the crinkles by his eyes creasing, even more, washing you over with ease despite the tension in your body. You heard Bakugou approach the two of you, and with him beside you, Ryan seemed to remember something as he rubbed the back of his neck. “And, there is a couples event tonight, should you and your husband want to join! Most couples do, and by the look of it, it may help re-spark things?”

A sour rancid taste crawled at the back of your throat as you awkwardly laughed, your fronts were weaker then you thought, and shook your head, “Oh no! That’s no issue! We’re actually here on our honeymoon,” your fingers pressed to your chest, your eyes trailing to where Bakugou was standing in hopes that it somehow looked romantic. Pet names were a thing, right? But what to call him? “Uh, K-Kacchan is actually super shy with PDA!”

You froze when the only nickname you’ve ever heard used toward Bakugou fumble clumsily from your tongue.

Kacchan?!

KACCHAN?!

WERE YOU SUDDENLY DEKU?!

“Oh! Yes, I understand now!” Ryan laughed, waving off his mistake, the apples of his cheeks dusting in what you could only pray to be embarrassment. “Well, if you want to help your Kacchan here express his love for you without care of the world, tonight’s session is the place to be!”

He turned and walked away with a final smile, most likely retreating to the ringing phone in the back room.

“I swear to god, do not ever call me that shitty nickname ever again, or else I’ll explode your ass,” Bakugou hissed, his hand grabbing you by the elbow as he had you in close.

“I’ll call you whatever I damn please!” you hissed back, ripping your elbow out of his hold.

You watched as his upper lip twitched, and he moved to go grab your luggage, something The Contract still held over him. You stood with the papers that Ryan had given to you, the stack of itineraries and options of what the both of you two could do while at your stay taking far more room in your arm then you thought was acceptable. Your concentration on your fake husband - as you kept vehemently reminding yourself - broke when the door opened and in walked a woman who was alone, and headphones on her ears. You offered her a smile when eye contact was made but did nothing more.

Bakugou leaned down, his hands lifting up the luggage, most definitely annoyed with rolling the large suitcases. But with the woman’s course and the way that Bakugou’s back was towards her, having not noticed her entry at all, you could see that they were going to collide. Essential items were in that suitcase, and you had no idea if they could break if Bakugou managed to drop them after crashing with her. But again, it would be payback for the embarrassing first encounter with Ryan!

But before you could make up your mind on what to do, the world froze.

[Crash into her.]     [Avoid her.]

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

(make sure to vote for the choice to be chosen!)  poll closes august 30 8am pst

[your-eternal-muse]

Sight For Sore Eyes

Heather Series Part 9

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 9

BONUS: Readers Card Confession BONUS: Spencer’s Take Series Playlist

Summery: Reader bares witness to the final moment of Spencer and Heather’s relationship, and when comforting Spencer, something unexpected happens.

Words: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Cheating, angry Spencer

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader (It’s happening fuckers.)

A/N: I don’t really have anything to say, except go nuts. I almost screamed writing this.

~~~~~

Eavesdropping isn't really my thing.

I find it impersonal, and kind of bitchy.

I mean, you're basically listening on someone else's conversation, snooping on drama that doesn't concern you.

Only, this kind of does concern me.

Since, you know, if it weren't for me, Spencer and Heather wouldn't be huddled in a conference room, arguing about their impending divorce 

I should feel worse about it than I do.

But I don't.

Spencer is broken.

She ruined him.

And trust me, I know because I'm the one who he's been coming to.

The whole thing sort of forced us back together, but if I'm being honest, I didn't really fight it. Like, at all.

Again I should feel bad, about how selfish it is to take pride in the fact that a man who's going through a divorce finds solace in my arms.

But you know what?

I really don't give a shit anymore.

I've spent the past almost three years doing everything to appear nice and selfless and it led me down a road that almost killed me.

So fuck it.

I exposed her cheating ass, punched her in her stupid face, fell asleep with her husband while laying on my couch and now I'm listening in as he serves her the divorce papers.

I'm not even trying to be subtle about it, and the team isn't being subtle about finding my snooping funny.

JJ passed and asked for an update, Derek just chuckled, and ruffled my hair, Hotch closed his blinds so he can have plausible deniability and the rest of them just smile as they watch.

I do have a back up plan though, just in case.

I hold a file in my hand that I can open and pretend to be reading as I walk in to get Spencer's opinion. Or something.

Right now though, I'm leaning against the door frame, listening and watching through the sliver of a crack that the door is open from when Heather closed it.

Heather sits with her back towards me, her hands folded in her lap, the papers and a pen sitting on the table in front of her, while Spencer stands, stoned face in front of her, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Sign the papers, Heather."

I can hear her sniffle, and she shakes her head. "No. I love you, we can make this work."

“'We’ aren't doing anything. 'We' are getting a divorce because 'you' cheated on 'me' for almost our entire marriage. Sign the papers."

He was assertive, the pain and anger evident in his voice as he points to the packet on the table.

I'm not gonna lie, it's kinda hot.

"It's only been six months. What do you want me to do? It was a mistake, a stupid mistake." She's actively crying now, and she stands, making her way over to him, wrapping her hands around one of his biceps.

He stares down at her.

"I love you, Spence."

Hey bitch, that's my nickname for him, get your own. Wait no, I take that back. You can just fuck right off, how's that?

One of her hands comes up to cup his cheek, and anger boils in my stomach.

He uncrosses his arms, and brings a hand up to cover hers, and I hold my breath.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, pulling it from his face while he pulls her hand from his bicep with his other hand.

He holds both of her wrists in his hands, pushing her away from him.

"That's not love."

Haha. Bitch.

"And it wasn't a mistake. You kept going back to him. Over and over again, instead of dealing with your problems and talking to me. Now," he turns her, and pushes her towards the table. The way she falls forward, stumbling into it makes it look like he shoved her harder than he did.

"Sign the fucking papers."

She grabs the pen, crocodile tears streaming down her face. 

Her look goes from pleading, to furious in a second.

"You're gonna run back to her, aren't you?" She scoffs, straightening up. "How do I know you didn't cheat on me first?"

He leans in close to her, brushing hair behind her ear.

I almost fall into the room, leaning in so close to make sure I can hear what he says, my heart pounding.

"What or who I do, is no longer any of your business. Now I'm not going to ask again. Sign the papers, or I will gladly get my lawyer and make your life a living hell."

She's no longer crying, but the annoyance is radiating off of her.

She's pissed.

She huffs, leaning forward, and signs her name. She flips through, repeating the action until she's done.

She tosses the pen onto the table. 

"You're gonna regret this. I'm the best thing that's ever happened to you."

He actually laughs, and I want to applaud him.

"Yeah, sure you are. I want your stuff out by this weekend."

She grabs her purse off the table, walking towards the door at a quick pace.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit.

I barely have time to open my file and take a few steps back to make it seem like I was walking up before she's opening the door, almost running into me in the process.

Her eyes meet mine, and I can't help the smirk spread across my face.

She glares, her hand coming up to her still bandaged nose, before shoving past me.

I watch her walk to the end of the hall before turning back to the room, where Spencer now stands with his hands in his packets.

I hold up the file, ready to start my spiel, but he starts talking before I can get the chance.

“I could see you.”

My mouth falls open and he smiles.

How the fuck…

“I could also smell your perfume.” He looks down at the papers, starting to flip through them to double check that she signed everything.

He could smell my perfume?

I walk into the room, closing the door fully behind me.

Wouldn’t want anyone to listen in now would we?

“How do you know it’s mine?” I place the file on the table, as he closes the packet.

He looks up at me, and my knees turn to jello.

“Because I smell it on your skin every time we hug.”

Butterflies erupt in my stomach, but he keeps talking.

“Smells like home to me.” He runs a hand through his hair, shifting from one foot to the next, now looking down at the table instead of me. “You’re home to me.”

You’re killing me, smalls.

I walk over to where he’s standing, and open my arms. 

I watch as his shoulders deflate as he sighs, walking forward and wrapping his arms around my waist. 

My arms slink around his neck, and I now understand how he can smell it. His nose is pressed to the crook of my neck, right where I put it in the morning.

“You’re my home too.” I whisper, turning my head, and inhaling the scent of his hair. It’s such a uniquely Spencer scent. I wish I could bottle it, make a candle out of it so that I can smell him whenever I want.

We break after a few minutes, and I trail my hands down his arm.

He entangles his fingers of one hand into my own.

“You okay?”

He sighs, looking down at our hands as he plays with my fingers. “I will be.”

He sits on the edge of the table, and I follow suit, being sure not to break the link our hands have created.

“If I hadn’t seen you, if you hadn’t been there watching, I’m afraid of what I might have done.” He swallows, and his eyes won’t meet my own. “It scared me.”

He finally looks up, and a small fire is lit behind those hazel eyes of his. 

“It scared me, because for a moment, I wanted to hurt her. She has made me so, angry, she’s made me feel so fucking stupid and all I wanted to do was make her feel that too.”

I fully grab his hand, the absence of his ring pressing against my palm.

“I know that feeling. But, as much as you wanted to, I don’t think you would have. You’ve got too much of a good conscience to do something like that.”

I feel him squeeze my hand. 

“However, I am more than willing, so you tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

That got him to laugh, and he shakes his head at me. He becomes quiet quicker than I’d like. 

“You have too much faith in me.”

“Hey,” I reach up and grab his chin with my free hand, forcing him to look at me. “I have the perfect amount of faith in you, Dr. Spencer Reid. You’re a good man, no, a great man, through and through. I guarantee you that you are the best thing that has ever or will ever happen to her. If she doesn’t realize that, well, that’s her loss. Not yours.”

I swipe some hair out of his face, and his eyes bore down into mine. 

Something about the look on his face makes my heart start to race. 

It resembles what I assumed I looked like that day in the restaurant, only he also looks like he’s about to cry.

My face scrunches in confusion. “Are you okay, Spence?”

“God, I love you.”

His hands are on either side of my face and his lips are on mine.

His lips are on mine. 

He’s kissing me.

Spencer Reid, the man whom I have been in love with for the past ten fucking years is kissing me.

Kiss him back, you dumb bitch!

My hands immediately go to his chest, bunching the fabric of his shirt in my fists, pulling him as close as possible to me.

I have dreamt about this moment.

Since the day I met him, I have dreamt about what kissing him would feel like. 

And now that it’s here, I can safely say, that my dreams don’t compare to the real thing.

His lips are soft and they lead in such a way that doesn’t make it feel like he’s doing all the work. 

It’s the perfect amount of push, the perfect amount of pull.

Kissing him is perfect.

But then he breaks it, as if remembering where he was, and the moments that had led up to it. 

He looks utterly terrified, like he just ruined the one thing he had left.

We're both breathless for a moment, and then he speaks.

“I’m sorry.”

Before I can react, he picks up the packet of paper and all but runs out of the door. 

I come to my senses quick enough to go after him, following him out into the bullpen. 

“Spencer!” I stop, out of breath, and confused as hell.

He exits through the glass doors, his hands grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

“Hey hey hey, what’s going on? Did something happen?” JJ walks up, eyes looking at the space that Spencer had occupied before turning to look at me. “Seriously, you look like you’re about to cry. What happened?”

My fingers float over my lips, still warm from the energy of the kiss. 

“He kissed me.” It’s barely above a whisper, like if I say it louder than that, it’ll cease to exist.

“He did? Why did he run then?”

“I don’t know.” 

The kiss isn’t what's confusing me at the moment though, oh no. 

What’s making it hard to breath right, let alone think, was the statement he whispered right before he kissed me.

A statement I never even thought I would hear him say.

God, I love you.

I must be hearing things. That can’t be what he said. He told me himself, that night on the balcony, he doesn’t love me.

No.

I may not have a memory like his, but I could never forget something like that.

He loves me. 

He loves me.

Spencer Reid loves me.

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[you-cant-spell-subtext-without]

I’m back on my bullshit and we have GOT TO TALK about 13x08 The Scorpion and the Frog; which serves as a good example of why you should not ONLY watch spn episodes with Cas (partially because of that scene I shamefully blogged about earlier - no I will not link that cursed post here).  The episode title comes from a fable in which the villain is the scorpion.  Interpretations of this fable note its uniqueness lies in the concept that “the scorpion is irrationally self destructive and fully aware of it.”

To quote the scorpion, buddies -  “it’s in my nature.”

Anyway, this episode is subtextually predicated on exploring Dean Winchester’s nature and specifically - his bisexuality, and I’m not only saying that because it opens with Dean in his Bi Colors Plaid (that also he wore on his burger date with Cas).

Let’s get started, after the cut!

Season 13 on its face gives me absolute whiplash because it starts widow arc-reunion-TOMBSTONE and then Jack yeets himself off to Chuck knows where so Cas can go out Looking For Him Because Otherwise He Will Definitely Kiss Dean there is no other option for the writers at this point.  Sigh.  Here, have another shot of Dean anxiously cleaning his gun as he always does when Cas has Gone Off For Reasons -

Anyway, this feels like a filler episode at first, but as always they bury the ENTIRE damn world in it and I am here with my dossier to Unearth It.

Lets start with Bart (demon of terrible nicknames and microagressions) meeting the brothers at Smile Diner to talk about some spell or whatever. 

(I am not thinking about the Cherry Pie meta I AM NOT)

THEY HAVE THE AUDACITY to start with these lines immediately introducing the theme of duality, a thread throughout this episode.

BARTHAMUS

Everything. I've been following your careers a long time. You're a real pain in the pitchfork. And the halo. Natural disrupters. We have that in common, you and I. DEAN

Mm. Yeah, we're twinsies.

***MORE DUALITY!  But as we know, Dean does not like Bart because He Is A Freakin’ Demon

DEAN

Well, see, here's the thing. When a demon tells us to jump, we don't ask how high. We just ice their ass.

UMMM excuse me Barting Bacting Boices?  What is that sexual gaze?  

Then we find out that Bart has 1/2 of the spell.  They need the other 1/2.  Oh, a spell with two parts, you say? [ I am going to scream :) ]

***Also, Dean eats the pie Bart ordered.  I cannot begin to explain to you the state of unwellness that I am in regarding how important this is. DEAN NEVER GETS TO EAT THE PIE, remember?  But in This Filler Episode, Dean eats the pie. While Sam looks at him with a very quizzical expression.  Pie -> what Dean wants but never actually gets -> Dean actively eating this pie.  Dean is coming to terms that maybe he can have what he wants.

***I am reminding you again that this is post widower-arc, post-reunion, and especially post-Tombstone.  Anyway-

Now we get to Smash and Grab.  Not literally even though I want to Commit Such Conduct at this point.  We are introduced to two one off characters named 

Smash (human/female presenting) -  can crack any safe built by man 

and Grab (demon/male presenting)-  expert in bypassing supernatural security.

Reaching or no, you can’t disagree that when spn introduces one off characters - it is almost always a Narrative Parallel or Mirror.

So we have a human and a demon (and Dean Winchester, a human who has been a demon)

who are experts in cracking open/bypassing something that has been secured and guarded (breaking down walls, if you will).  

They also use fake names identifying them as Tools to be Used ( Dean Winchester, the Michael Sword/daddys blunt little instrument)

BONUS:

Dean himself is literally used as a tool in this episode.

So yeah.  Smash and Grab are physical representations of Dean’s duality.  Human/Demon.  Femininity/Masculinity.  Dare we say something else, too?

Anyway, Dean is paired with Smash and Grab; Sam is off to idk negotiate weird artifact purchases lawboy style with Luther Shrike, a man who cannot die so long as he never leaves his house (I cannot even begin to unpack this shit; please just sit there and think about it.  I’m not even going there here.  I CANNOT DISCUSS Luther Shrike RN).

Speaking of things I cannot discuss without halgdhsag;lsa - Smash has very Specific boots (a look overall, really).

DEAN

Hey, Winona. The '90s called. They'd like their shoes back. SMASH

Shh.

***That’s right girl - do not take his shit; he actually LOVES them and is therefore Overcompensating for it with this little jab.

***Dean’s pop culture references and particular attention to the details here Should Not Be Overlooked.  90s! Winona! Ryder!

ANYWAY, then Dean and Smash bond over a caffeinated beverage -

[While Dean is doing a spell, Smash opens a can of drink, takes a mouthful and burps loudly. ] SMASH

Ahh. DEAN

You're weird.

***This scene makes me literally insane. (even aside from Dean living on something named NERVE DAMAGE as a KID.  They could have called it anything. You’re saying this wasn’t a Choice)  

She chugs a swallow of the drink and burps.  Something stereotypically associated with masculinity.  Not feminine.  Dean’s reaction is that she is “weird” - because she is not acting in a way stereotypically, J*hn Winchester brain-rot patriarchy bullshit-tily associated with Being Female.  But also, says the stupid show, they like the same soda.  They are The Same.  She shares the soda with Dean.  HIS FACE WHEN SHE DOES -

Other similarities are addressed throughout the episode (they are working for demons because they have no choice; they don’t discuss feelings/emotions, they both sold their soul, they both This Thing - 

DEAN

You know, we could help you. SMASH

No, you can't. I gotta take care of me.

etc. etc.) Smash is absolutely dean-coded.

****Also it’s textually established that Smash thinks Dean is attractive -

GRAB

[looking at Smash] Oh. You said he was just a pretty face. SMASH 

Shh.

***But Grab flirts with him too.

DEAN

I will kill you. GRAB

I bet you say that to all the girls.

***sorry, Grab - you won’t get far with Dean, but only because as he mentioned in the beginning of this episode - 

Drowley rights.

Now Dean has to put his hand in the mouth of this stone lion thing and all of a sudden he is acting....very-not-like-Dean.

[Dean looks again and takes a deep breath.] DEAN

I… how about this? What if I cut myself, put it on, like, a little piece of paper? We'll just wad it up and throw it in the mouth, okay? Okay. 

***Dean Winchester, who has been to Literal HELL, who has been torn apart by hellhounds, who has battled the devil and angels and God’s sister - all at the expense of his own life is now - afraid of spiders.  Well, technically he has always been afraid of spiders, but why isn’t ‘he being performative about it At This Time??

***Come to think of it, this sends me right back to how Jackles was playing Dean in 12x11 Regarding Dean THE episode dissecting Dean’s performative masculinity [one day I will clean up and post that analysis sitting in my drafts like a sad hamster]. That makes sense actually, because -> -> ->

that episode and this one are both written by Meredith Glynn.  Girl get in I want to torture you affectionately with a barrage of questions.

So here we have Dean and he’s not performing for Reasons, and he’s scared he’s genuinely scared of putting his hand in this stone lion-gargoyle-pig-creature’s mouth and then -

Smash gives him a push.

She gives him a push.  I cannot stop thinking about how she gives him a push.  A push to go do this thing that he is scared of; his fear being something he was hiding under his performative masculinity. Smash - dean coded dean mirror who does not perform femininity and is ‘weird’ -  she   gives   him   a     p u s h.

***linking here for the jackting joices that follow.

Now, let’s circle back to Smash’s story; why she is working for Bart in the first place -

SMASH

You think I wanna be here? Like I have a choice? SAM

You made a deal. SMASH

Wow! You think? SAM

You sold your soul. SMASH

And if I could take it back, I would. 

there is no reason for this picture here other than I needed you to see the jackting again

***How does the story end for Smash?

DEAN

Take care of you. [Dean glances down at the box, and then at Smash. She sees that Dean has put a lighter on top of the bones.]  BARTHAMUS

Alice, chop chop! 

[Bart indicates she should get his bones]. SMASH

Yeah. [She grabs the lighter and sets Bart's bones alight. Bart screams as he bursts into flames. ] 

***She accepts help and breaks free from the narrative, literally burning it down. The female presenting but not female-performing “weird” ooc representing a side of Dean breaks FREE because she makes a choice.  The lighter Dean drops? It’s a push.  And she goes with it.

Alice reclaims her story.

(Also, Grab gets ganked.  The male presenting ooc; the performative masculinity side; the demon; the darkness; the not-humanity - gets ganked).

Guess what Dean says to Alice when they say goodbye?

DEAN

Hey, Alice. Stay weird.

[I know the peace sign is probably just a Charlie throwback but I’d still like to say duality.  Two. ]

Dean’s not just talking to Alice.  He’s talking to himself; because the walls have been breached and for once Dean isn’t as scared of being different.  Maybe, just maybe, he’s going along with the push.  That’s exactly how the episode ends - with Dean feeling a little more hopeful, a little more at peace; a little more Considering he is capable of not only loving Cas but also not hating himself for it. 

[until the knowledge that Mary is still alive and the guilt of allowing himself ANY happy thoughts instead of looking for her miserably rears its ugly head in 13x09 and round and round we go but for NOW at least -> ]

DEAN

I'll drink to that.

(oh look Dean is just wearing his henley.  It’s almost as if a layer has been peeled back).

tagging @im-shaking-like-milk​ and @deanwasalwaysbi​ for letting me ramble on to them while writing this; and @lilac-void​ because you are always so kind about my stuff :)