#goodness i hope this all makes sense lmao

[akamitrani]

omg i just read your dht fanfic and it was so good!! if your taking requests could i request that reader is married to david and she was with him on the set if terrifier (2024) and reader asks him to make love to her with his Art costume still on? Thanks!’ (sorry if this makes no sense lmao)

— The After-Hours Act —

David Howard Thornton x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, established relationship, costume kink, roleplay (?), kissing, pining, choking, rough sex, public sex (well, kind of).

Summary: It's late at night, filming is practically done. Your husband, David, gives his final performance of the day.

[A/N: Omg hi, yes I accept requests! Thank you so much for liking my last fic 🤍 Hope you enjoy this one too, it's my first time doing smut. I absolutely loved the idea and probably had way too much fun with it lol.]

The set was alive with chaos. Flickering lights casting long, jagged shadows against the cracked walls, making the abandoned warehouse look even more sinister. Fake blood is pooled on the concrete floor and the air is thick with the smell of sweat, latex and the metallic tang of stage blood.

In the middle of it all stood David, fully transformed into the unnervingly silent and grotesque Art the Clown. His smile stretched wide under the white mask, black lips curling into a grimace that was equal parts amusing and horrifying.

You watched from the shadows just beyond the set, your eyes never leaving him. David had always been able to command a room and, as Art the Clown, he held a power that drew you in no matter how many times you had seen him in character.

The director yelled “Let's wrap it up!” and the tense energy of the set dissipated like smoke. David instantly broke character, his terrifying expression melting into his usual boyish grin as he exchanged a few words with the crew. His eyes flicked over to you and he gave you a subtle wink.

Your heart skipped a beat as he made his way toward you, still in full costume. The other crew members busied themselves with cleanup, leaving you and David in a pocket of relative privacy.

“Enjoy the show?” – he teased, voice low and familiar despite the eerie costume.

You couldn’t help but smile, mix of nerves and excitement – “You were terrifying, as always. But...” – you replied, eyes lingering on the smeared makeup around his lips – “I have a little request tonight”

David’s brow quirked in curiosity, he stayed silent, slipping back into Art’s mute persona for a moment. You took a deep breath, stepping closer so only he could hear your words...

“Can you stay in costume... For a little playtime, with me?” you whispered getting closer to him, a blush creeping up your cheeks.

For a split second you saw a flicker of surprise in his eyes, it was quickly replaced by a mischievous glimmer... He understood the idea. He nodded slowly, slipping fully back into character, his smile turning wickedly playful. Stepping back, he walked towards the door of the warehouse, locking it.

You felt a thrill shoot down your spine, you were completely alone with him now – No crew, no distractions. He moved closer to you, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator toying with its prey. The game had begun.

David – or rather, Art – stopped just inches away, tilting his head in that unnerving, silent way.

“Are you sure about this?” – he whispered, the question hanging in the air like a dare. You could see it in his eyes, he was more than ready to play along. You wanted to see just how far he would take it, how much you could handle... You nodded.

Without warning, he lunges forwards, pining you against a cold concrete wall. A gasp escapes your lips as his gloved hand wrapped around your throat, not tight enough to hurt but enough to send a wave of adrenaline through your body.

The pressure of his hand on your throat sends waves of heat between your legs, your breath coming out in short gasps. He leaned in closer, his painted lips brushing your ear, he remained silent, true to Art's unsettling nature.

You whimpered softly, feeling the undeniable desire. David's grin widened and he pushed you harder against the wall, his free hand slipping to your waist, pulling you closer. You could feel his growing bulge against your thigh, his gloves rough against your skin. His eyes bored into yours demanding submission.

You gave in willingly, letting him take control over you. The grip on your throat tightened just slightly, enough to make you even more wet.

“David...” – You breathed his name. A futile attempt to break the spell of Art's menacing silence.

But he wasn't ready to break character yet. Instead, he released his hold on your throat and captured your lips in a messy kiss, taste of makeup and sweat mixing between you two.

He pulled back, just enough to look at you. For a moment you thought he might speak, but instead he let out that eerie silent laugh, his shoulders shaking as he looked at you with a mocking expression.

“You really are good at this...” – You said, voice husky with arousal and fear.

He flashed that terrifying grin again and in a heartbeat lifted you up in his arms. You look at him with a surprised look as he carries you to the prop bed in the set and carefully throws you in it. He hovers on top of you, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him. This time you completely feel his hard cock pressing against your thigh, making you moan – “Hmm yes...”

David's hands start to wander around your body, you're completely under him, completely at his mercy. His fingers slid under your dress pushing it up, revealing your black lacy set of lingerie. He pulled back and paused for a moment, he had an idea, suddenly getting out of bed – you look at him confused.

"David? What happened?" – You asked, afraid you did something wrong. He doesn't speak, instead he silently laughs gesturing for you to wait with an excited expression.

You watch him happily reach for Art's infamous black trash bag that was in a corner, open it dramatically and start looking for something inside of it. You were about to say something, but before you could do that he threw the bag away, in his hand is a black knife with fake blood still on it. He smiles devilishly pointing to the knife... then you. You freeze, feeling genuine horror with his actions now.

David senses your growing tension and gestures with both hands as what can be understood as 'relax, I'm not going to hurt you... probably'. What an imp. He starts crawling on top of the bed towards you with a hungry look, reaching your legs. He signals for you to open them and you gladly do so, without asking questions. He pauses for a moment as if savoring the situation, the position you're in – He gives you his trademark creepy smirk.

He reaches for your panties, his finger lifted one of the side edges and in a swift motion he uses the knife to slash it, removing it and revealing your throbbing cunt – now on full display for him. You inhale sharply, the cold air making you shiver. He throws away the knife and your undies somewhere around the set.

He pulls you towards him roughly, demanding, pushing your legs more far apart. You notice his bulge is very prominent now, poking through his clown costume. David hovers above you, one hand beside your head and the other ghostly stroking your sensitive bud making you moan. You don't want to wait, can't handle teasing now – you shift slightly as a form of protest.

“Fuck me now” – You breathlessly groan

He stopped in his tracks and looked you dead in the face, up until now he has been real soft with you, taking things slowly... But if you're such a needy bitch with no patience then he will give you exactly what you want.

David pulls back slightly and gathers your legs in front of him, pushing you to the side forcing you to change positions. Your back now is exposed to him, your ass completely tilted up, he uses his knee to once more spread your legs. You tried to look back at him but he shoved your head down in the bed and unspokenly demanded you to stay this way. Not wanting to defy him again you accept his command.

You stayed like this for a few seconds wondering why nothing has happened, you couldn't help but listen to your surroundings, especially behind you – focusing on any sound, any clue to what will happen. Unbeknownst to you, your husband – Art, at the moment – was dazed at the sight before him. Pussy swollen with desire and wetness threatening to drip down your groin, enough to make his dick beg to be released.

A sudden sharp noise of tearing cloth invaded your ears, making you jump a little bit. You were scared to look back but your curiosity was louder at the moment and you couldn't help but slightly glance to the source of the sound. David had torn his clown suit to free his dick, now holding his fully erect member in his hand leaking in precum, pumping it a few times.

He caught you looking and in a futile attempt you tried to avert your gaze, too late now. He smiled wickedly and as punishment, he gave you an unexpected ruthless slap to your butt, making you hiss in both shock and pleasure. The stinging sensation only adding to your burning heat. He continued – two, three, four, five slaps – smacking until you were moaning for the pain, for him.

“Mmm-aah fuck” – you moaned – “fuck me, just fuc-”

Your phrase cut short when he entered your pussy, shoving his dick deep inside you then completely out in a excruciatingly slow speed. He was taunting you, giving you what you wanted but not in the way intended to.

“Mmmm Dave, please ah- please...” – You cried out. You could feel the clown smirking behind you.

David started picking up speed, pounding hard, grabbing your waist for stability. There will definitely be some purple digits engraved there tomorrow.

You can hear his ragged breath and occasional whimpers, you're surprised he could maintain Art's silent persona this far. David is usually quite vocal, he enjoys praising you during sex. The difference is noticeable, you're still unsure about it... On the other hand, his much more dominant demeanor when portraying Art makes up for it.

He takes his dick out and flips you on your back to face him again, he takes your legs and puts them on his shoulder. He promptly aligned his shaft with your entrance again, staring directly at you. David's half-lidded blue eyes peaking through the white mask, black lips slightly open indicating breathlessness. Pounding you, he pushed your bra out of the way, he loved the erotic sight of your tits bouncing just for him.

His cock deliciously hit your sweet spot with expertise – he just knows how to make you feel good – feeling the climax build up more and more on your stomach on each thrust he gives, you're almost there.

He leans in closer to you, one of his hands grabs your throat while the other stays at your waist, pining you completely onto the bed. He's choking you mercilessly, cutting your oxygen this time.

David picks up his speed really fast, making the prop bed creak loudly, the sound of rough slapping skin filling the set – Your orgasm threatening to crash down. The stimulation is overwhelming and you can't hold it anymore.

His dick hits hard and deep in your pussy – you deliciously cum, your juices spilling all over his shaft. He nods maniacally feeling your tightening warm cunt around his cock, it was all that he needed to reach his peak – closing his eyes and throwing his head back, he ejaculates inside you with one final thrust. He releases the hold on your neck allowing you to gasp for air.

You see his face contorting and you think he might break character now. Instead he opened his eyes and smiled at you while clapping his hands cheerfully. The way he stayed silent, embodying Art’s menacing playfulness, drove you to the edge.

He removes himself from you, sweating, panting. You suddenly feel the exhaustion and so does he – literally plopping himself on the bed, by your side.

“I love you so much, you know that?” – he finally spoke after some minutes, the real David finally breaking through.

It was such a relief to hear his voice again – “I love you too... Even when you're being a complete psycho” – you teased, still breathless.

David laughed, genuinely – “I hope I wasn't too rough” – he said, pressing his forehead against yours, his arms wrapping around your waist in a comforting embrace.

“Maybe a little” – you admitted, resting your hands against his chest – “But I like it when you surprise me”

David smiled, leaning in to kiss the top of your head, filled with all the tenderness you knew him for. It was just the two of you, sharing a quiet moment.

“Thank you” – he murmured – “For loving all sides of me... Even the creepy ones”

You laughed softly, running your fingers through his chest – “I wouldn’t have it any other way”

You knew this was a moment you’d cherish – a memory of the man you loved, both the sweet husband and domineering clown... And tonight, you have experienced both.

“Alright, alright. I think we've given Art enough playtime for one night.” - he murmured, gently caressing your back. He kissed you one last time before preparing to get out of bed.

“I think I'll have to buy another clown costume” – he joked, pointing at his groin area, where he had ripped the fabric.

“And new panties for me, ruined my favorite one” – you added with a fake pout pointing at the long gone undies, currently at the floor. (rip undies)

“Yeah, sorry about that... I- I don't know what I was doing honestly” – he said looking down

“No, no. None of that. I loved everything. All of it.” – You quickly replied, forcing him to look at you. You could swear you saw a faint blush creeping up his cheeks.

“C'mon, let's get out of here” – He said sweetly, slipping his hand into yours – “We've had enough fun for one night”

Some minutes later as you both walked out of the darkened set hand in hand, you realized what you had just experienced was a moment you'd never forget. Fear, love and desire collided in the most thrilling way.

[zepskies]

@lamentationsofalonelypotato

Omg yay!! I'm so excited to dive into your thoughts on Part 2. As you saw, it's a bit of an emotional rollercoaster. 😅

Alright it is devastating right off the bat and I know, I know I should be worried about her and I am. I am SO worried, but my mind completely went somewhere else when Dean PICKED HER UP. The man is so strong and I am just...

LOL girl I don't blame you for being distracted. The mental image of Dean manhandling in Protective Mode does things to me too. 🤣

I was prepared for this coming but dang... "I hope you've learned your damn lesson" is a line that breaks my heart more than I should. It cuts to the quick for me, because to me it's worse than just saying "I told you not to do something." It's not heartless, but it's enough of a rendition of it that it just makes you go "oh wow."

I love this observation. That's exactly what I felt inherently when I was writing that line. It felt more powerful to me than "I told you so" or the like. It has the feeling of that, but with more of an edge, even though you know he cares about her.

I was literally screaming. It's like he wants her to kill him. I know that Dean loves her so much but oh my goodness it's about to get so real for him. Man is about to be torn to shreds.

LMAO I remember someone saw the preview of Part 2 and commented, "the quiet, but devastating anger he'd be reckoned with if he said that to me." And I was like, YEP, that's exactly it. Mans playing with his life. 😅😅😅

You just wanna go:

Even though she's upset, Dean is still her best friend and the man she loves and even though he's the one that made her feel this way, she still wants to be comforted by his presence. I always think that, this particular thing is so bittersweet to read about in relationships. Or at least that's how I took this bit 😅.

That's precisely how I intended it! Now looking back, I feel like I should have had her leave him by himself in his room to sleep in another room. But at the time I was writing, I was thinking that for her in particular, despite this being the biggest fight they've had so far in their relationship, he's still the one that makes her feel safe after a bad hunt. 💙

Side note: I am happy that the reader didn't have to tell the woman about her son. That would have broken me to read that especially after the reader promised that they would find her son in part one.

Oh my God, yeah. I considered having her be the one to face her "mistake" and talk to the mother, but I felt that having Sam take that on would be better, even as it added to the reader's guilt (and it would keep the story moving).

Oh my word. I love you friend, but WHY!? Dang it, this pricked at my heart. It's so good, so heart wrenching. I feel so bad for him, but it really just reinforces why he "lost it" with the reader earlier. Goodness the trope of the reader getting yelled at by someone who loves them about putting themselves in danger really is just such a good one for Dean and you do it so well.

Lmaooo I knowww, I'm sorry! All the angsty feels in this one. 😭 Now you see the full weight of why Dean popped off the way he did. He just feels things so deeply, it comes out sometimes in anger, when at the root of it all, it's fear.

Thank you though for that compliment! I think this is the only time I've written that Dean trope. Because I honestly think it's overused, but I tried to do it in a way that made sense for the ultimate growth of their relationship and who Dean is.

His apology is really just pricking at my heart. It's so good, so forthcoming so honest. And the thought that he was "better off alone" is so on brand for him. I know that we've talked about that before, but it really does fit him, and I love how you weave it into this fic.

Aww thank you! 😭😭 Weirdly enough, that was one of my favorite parts to write? Maybe I just like the heartfelt hurt/comfort breaking into fluff moments. The "better off alone" thing I thought was implied throughout the later seasons of the show after Dean lets go of Lisa and Ben, so I wanted to explore that deeper here, even though it hurt my heart to write it. 💙

She's crying... I'm crying. It's really just tears all around and such a good moment. Also the him saying "You don't have to cry for that"... YES SHE DOES.

Everyone's crying!! 😭 YES ABSOLUTELY SHE DOES -- and she's a verified crier. I see a lot of fics where the reader is tough as nails, "doesn't cry very often," but I wanted to create a reader character who is a badass, but still has a soft heart. (Latinas also can be very emotional, but not to say we're adhering to stereotypes around here LOL. 🤣🤣)

This is just overall a really wonderful vulnerable moment that you've captured that feels real for both the reader and Dean. Especially when she talks about "working with my heart, not my head." I think that if it were me, I would also be "working with my heart." I don't think that I'd be able to take myself emotionally out of the situation that they're in all the time because they're hunters.

Thank you so much!! 🙏🏽🥹🥹 Yeah same, and it's definitely a contrast with Dean, who obviously cares about helping people and takes way too much responsibility on his shoulders, but he's been doing this so long and seen so much that he's learned to compartmentalize a bit more.

Hoping for some FORESHADOWING 🙏🏻👀

Oh girl yesss! If you make it to the last two stories in the series, remember this moment. 😏💜

Also the salsa lesson is just so cute. And the way you took a really emotional moment to a cute salsa dance to a steamy session to a giggly awkward moment is great. The transitions make it seamless. And the song choices were perfect! When the reader was describing what the song meant I was like, "oh yeah, that's him right there. There's the man officer." lmao 🤣

Ahaha thank you so much!! I LOVE me some salsa music, and it was a fun challenge to try and transition between these scenes. From one writer to another, I always appreciate those "technical" observations. 💓💓💓

Oh big YEP!! "Devorame Otra Ves" was the first song I thought of when the salsa idea came. Dean, in fact, is that guy. 🤣🤣

I was again so emotional reading this, because oh my word, poor Dean just reliving the moments where the reader almost died.

Sorry for jerking the angsty chain again there! 🤣 Poor guy, he went through an ordeal just as much as she did.

And also the final scene 👀🌶️ I should have known from the gif at the beginning tbh lol.

LMAO Oh yeah, the gif was a dead giveaway for what was coming later on. 😏 And thank you for shouting out the “What, now you’re shy?” line! It's a special kind of intimate, I thought, for her to be kind of embarrassed about what she's just done, but Dean like, "uh-uh, you're not getting away that easily." 😂😂

Also I love you for using a Chicago Fire gif!! loll Was a big fan of that show back in the day.

Not to mention that the sex was also giggly towards the end and I really just love that. And the love confessions KNOCKED ME OUT.

Awww thank you! I love me some fun giggly romantic smut. 😂

Fun fact on her confession! When she says I love you twice, she's actually saying it in two different ways:

I love you, you’d said. I love you ("te amo," you're my love) and I love you ("te quiero," you're my family), more than you can believe and understand.

Oh I'm riding a train of emotions, and all of this was so good. Especially Sam walking in on them. I was laughing so hard at Dean's reaction:

Lol but seriously, I really appreciate that, thank you!! This story was definitely an emotional rollercoaster. I'm so glad you enjoyed it though!! 💕 ...And Sam's little mishap LOL. Dean has very little shame -- something he's going to prove later on again in the series. 😂

It's all wonderful my friend! And I can't wait to read another fic from this universe! 😊

Thank you SO very much!! Honestly you don't know how happy it makes me that you're enjoying this series so far -- and spoiling me with such lovely and thoughtful feedback. 🥰💕💕

Devour Me - Part 2

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized/Latina!Reader 

Summary: When you and Dean start to press each other’s buttons, both of your tempers ignite. To make up for it, you give him an impromptu salsa dancing lesson…one he didn’t exactly ask for. (18+)

AN: Here's Part 2! **Read Devour Me: Part 1

Song Inspo: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique. But really it’s “Ven Devórame Otra Ves” by Lalo Rodriguez. (You’ll see why.) 🤭

Word Count: 5,400

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Blood, character death and violence, smutty smut, angst, Dominican slang, and tons of sexy fluff.

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Part 2: "Telenovela Style"

Your resulting scream of agony is as unforgiving as the ground when your knees buckle, hitting the hard cement.

Andy grips you with the strength of a monster. 

Then he holds you down as he drinks your blood. 

No matter how you struggle and whimper, you can’t push him off, and you’re getting weaker by the second.

Until Andy is ripped away from your neck, and is taken care of the way all vampires must be. He doesn’t even feel the blade coming. 

When you’re able to look up, Dean stands above you with thinly veiled fury. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s just done. 

He bends to gather you up into his arms, all the while trying to stamp down the panic clenching his heart. He calls your name, but you can only make weak sounds as your bleary eyes meet his. 

“Dean,” you manage. The ragged wound in your neck is bleeding profusely down your chest and shoulder, seeping into your shirt. He takes your hand and clamps it hard against your neck, even though it makes you whimper.

“Gotta stop the bleeding,” he says, apologetic but firm. “Keep pressing.”

In your stupor of pain, you don’t realize that your screech woke the entire nest. Dean has to lock up his worry; he looks up and finds his brother and Cas already fighting a hoard of angry vampires. 

Dean carries you over to them and lays you down against the wall with the other humans. He keeps a protective line in front of you, but he decapitates a vampire before she can sink her fangs into Sam next.

The two of them work together, and with Castiel’s smiting power behind them, the angel and the two men are able to clear the rest of the nest. 

By the end, only you and two of the women being held captive are still alive. The third girl’s heart just finally gave out. Sam takes the survivors to the nearest hospital. 

Meanwhile, Castiel approaches where you sit up against the inside of the barn, barely awake, while Dean kneels with you, holding you to his chest. He meet’s Cas’s blue-eyed request with a nod. So Cas stretches out a hand and touches two fingers to your forehead. 

You’re healed in an instant. Dean marvels, like he always does when Cas displays his power. Dean is able to breathe a little easier, the vice grip on his heart easing as he touches your neck.

The tan skin is once again smooth, if still stained with blood. You blink back into wakeful consciousness. 

He shifts so he can see your face. “You okay?” 

You meet his eyes but can only nod. His jaw is still tight and tense, and you can’t blame him. 

You know you’ve messed up. Big time. You nearly got everyone killed, including yourself…and now, you have to tell a mother that her son is dead. 

Dean helps you up, holding you by your arms and waist until you’re steady on your feet. You have a hard time meeting his eyes, but when open your mouth to apologize, he beats you to it. 

“I hope you’ve learned your damn lesson,” he says. 

Your gaze snaps up to his. “Excuse me?”

Dean’s hands go to his hips as his brows raise at you. 

“Next time, when I tell you to hang back, I mean that shit. Hang the hell back,” he all but growls. 

You tilt your head at him as your irritation begins to spark. Meanwhile, Castiel is the one who backs up as he glances between you and Dean uncertainly.

“I made a mistake, but that doesn’t give you the right to tell me what to do,” you shoot back. “I was a hunter long before I met you.” 

“Yeah, well, color me surprised that you’ve made it this long,” he snaps. 

Your temper flares hotter. “You know, you’re not so goddamn perfect either.” 

“Never said I was,” Dean says. “But when my gut tells me something ain’t right, I need you to fucking listen. Otherwise, we get a day like today.”

His words are edged with grit by the end of his little rant, and you don’t appreciate it. Your lips purse in anger.

“I don’t care what that legendary gut tells you,” you sass back. “I’m not a little girl, and you’re not my damn father!”

Dean raises incredulous brows at the way you’re shouting at him. He crosses his arms. 

“What’s this, some kind of Latina temper?” he asks snidely. 

You truly become incensed at that. 

“Oh, you want to take it there?” you ask, as your eyes narrow. “Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Dean won’t admit it, but in that moment, he’s a bit intimidated by the quiet threat in your voice. Still, his fuse is lit, and he’s way beyond curbing his internal filter.

“Oh, I’m sorry, does this telenovela-style tongue lashing come with subtitles?” he snarks. 

You let out an incredulous breath. Your eyes begin to sting.

“You’re such an asshole!” you shout back. There, understand that?

You turn away from him before your frustrated tears can fall, but you stop short once you notice Castiel dragging out the bodies of the dead…including Andy. Your throat constricts, and you begin to stalk out of the barn. 

Dean calls your name in frustration. 

“What?” you hiss. 

The only thing that makes him hesitate is seeing the state of you when you turn back around. His anger crumbles, and maybe something in him breaks when he sees your tears. They’ve welled up in your eyes, and a few of them carve a path down your cheeks. 

You’re still covered in your own blood, and he hates it. He hates it more than anything. 

Later, you see the state of yourself when Sam returns with the Impala. In the reflection on the backseat window, you see the blood dried down your neck, staining nearly half of your shirt.

You see the black rings of your mascara and eyeliner around your eyes. You look a mess, and you try to wipe underneath your eyes. It’s a fruitless effort.

After you all finish burning the bodies, Dean starts the long drive home. You insist on stopping to tell Rachel Campbell about her son, but Sam says he already took care of it when he drove into town. 

You frown, but you no longer have the energy to be angry. You further withdraw into yourself, and your lower lip trembles as you look out the window. Through the rearview mirror, Dean sees more tears slipping down your face.

What Sam told him (but he won’t tell you), is what one of the survivors said. One of the mated pairs had taken Andy…to “adopt” a son of their own. 

That night is quiet and tense in Dean’s room. You have to wash your hair all over again, and scrub the blood and grime from your body until only your skin remains. But you don’t have the energy to do more than braid your wet hair afterwards and pull on your lucky Journey shirt, which is still full of holes. 

Dean knows that it’s bad when you need the “dreamcatcher,” as he’s called it in his head. You’ve never had a nightmare while wearing that shirt, or so you claimed a while back. 

You wear it over some long pajama pants instead of your usual shorts, or better yet, nothing at all. But he can see what kind of mood you’re in. Things are unsettled as you both get ready for bed in silence. 

He notes the way you turn to face the other side in bed, maybe to avoid him. Though if you really wanted to do that, you could’ve gone to your old room.

So in more ways than one, Dean takes some solace in the fact that you’re still next to him. And he decides to give you some time and space. 

He goes to bed and tries in vain to sleep.

In the morning, Dean’s woken by the familiar smell of coffee…and the less familiar sound of loud salsa music. 

What the fuck?

After he brushes his teeth, he puts on his robe and slippers and heads down to the kitchen, where he finds you in a seemingly better mood. You’re mopping the floor, of all things. You’re out of your pajamas, instead wearing a loose shirt that falls off your shoulder and some spandex shorts. 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo,” you sing softly along with the music as you dance from the kitchen to the living room. Your phone is connected to a Bluetooth speaker on the coffee table. 

Dean starts to smile, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway to watch you.

At an instrumental break with a run of conga drums and trumpets, you pause in your mopping to do a little twirl as you dance, with a soulful roll of hips and a flair of salsa steps. It makes Dean’s smile kick up into a smirk.

He walks in on purposefully light feet until he’s sidled up behind you in the living room.

“Nice moves, Shakira,” he quips. 

It startles a shriek of surprise out of you as you whirl around. Dean’s smile hikes up into a grin, but it soon fades when he remembers the way your scream rang through his ears last night. The way his heart dropped into his stomach, and his head swiveled at the sound. And he saw you go down hard. 

Then the rest of it tumbles through his mind—what he had to do afterwards in order to save you. How he’d did it without really thinking, his panic and determination blocking out almost everything else when he’d grabbed the kid. The monster, he forcibly reminds himself. 

“You trying to give me a heart attack?” you ask with a hand on your heart. 

Dean forces himself to smile a little. “Sorry. But might I remind you, not everyone here’s an early bird.”

You give him a wry look.

“You’re the only one around here who sleeps past 10 a.m. Cas dipped out a while ago, and Sam’s on a run.” 

But you graciously grab your phone to lower the music to a more bearable level. Dean doesn’t yet know this about you, but this—listening to music, dancing, cleaning—it’s all your way of coping…and releasing as much of your pain, terror, and regret from yesterday as possible. 

You then look up at him more guarded. The two of you exchanged a lot of unsavory words last night. In fact, it may just be the worst fight you two have ever had in almost three years of knowing one another.  

Dean senses the shift in you, and his amusement fades. He just can't let things stay like this. He won't.

He hazards drawing closer and touching your arm.

“Look…I’m sorry for snapping at you yesterday. I know I was being a dick,” he says. “You’ve just gotta understand something.”

You wait for him to continue with furrowed brows, sensing that whatever he’s about to say is hard for him. 

“There’s a reason I don’t do this. The uh, relationship thing,” Dean continues, clearing his throat. His thumb swipes along your arm. “It’s not just this job. It’s my fucked up life. I tried to warn you before—” 

“Dean,” you say with a sigh, but he raises his hand. 

“Please, just…let me say it,” he says. “You know the spiel. But things can change on a dime. Even on a damn milk run, like a dusty nest of vamps.”

You know that. You know you could’ve died yesterday, and he doesn’t need to remind you of that fact. Before you can start to get petulant again though, Dean continues. His jaw is working, like this next part is more difficult for him to admit.

“Trust me when I say, us being together is dangerous, for both of us,” he says. “For a while I, uh…I started to think Sam and I were better off alone.”

That casts you into dismay. Because you know Dean isn’t lying. He’s really contemplated spending the rest of his life devoid of love, so he won’t have to lose it. 

Dangerous, for both of us.

You realize then what Dean’s really saying. He’s afraid…afraid to lose you. You see it in his furrowed brows, the downturn of his lips, and whatever pain he’s trying to hide in the depths of his eyes. 

And just like that, the water works start. You can’t quite keep your tears at bay as you hold onto his shirt. He lets out a resigned sigh as he holds you by your arms. 

“You don’t have to cry for that,” he says, a bit teasing. 

“Have you met me?” you sniff. But you manage to look up at him with your glassy eyes. “I’m sorry too. God, I’m so sorry, Dean.” 

Your fist clenches in his shirt when you remember Andy, latched onto your neck, and how Dean had to save you. You know he’s remembering it too when his brows furrow, and his gaze falls away. You reach a hand for his cheek.

“I know I fucked up,” you admit. “I was working with my heart, not my head. I just…”

You wanted so badly to help that kid and his mother. You also know that Dean understands; you see it in his eyes. He holds your hand to his cheek and brushes his thumb across the back of your hand.

“I know,” he says. “I really am sorry, baby.” 

The problem is, you didn’t just see your own mother in Rachel. She hadn’t been much older than you. And when you imagine a life beyond hunting, more than anything (no matter how much you shove down the idea), you really do want a family of your own someday. 

It’s just…days like yesterday remind you why that could be a very bad idea. 

More of your tears bubble over, and you head willingly into Dean’s arms. “Me too…”

He holds you tighter than ever. His hands rub down your back, tangle in your hair, and he drops his lips onto your hair. You sniffle, wiping your face dry in his shirt. And for a while, the two of you have peace in the relative quiet. 

Music still plays from the speaker though. And when another salsa song starts to play on your playlist, you start swaying. A smile works its way onto Dean’s face. 

“You can’t help yourself, can you?” he teases.

You smile into his chest. “We should go dancing sometime.”

Dean just laughs. “Oooh, no.”

“Oh, yes,” you reply, batting your lashes up at him. You slip a hand on his shoulder and into one of his hands. He’s forced to hold you as if the two of you were about to start Fred Astair-ing across the living room. 

“Have you ever danced before?” you ask. “Like real dancing.” 

“Not salsa, I’ll tell you that,” he quips. 

“That’s okay. I’ll teach you,” you reply with a coquettish smile. “It’s just a few simple moves.”

Dean gives you a wan look. “You made it look anything but simple.”

You blush at that, but you meet him with a pout of disappointment. You don’t let up, even when Dean frowns. He huffs at you in resistance.

“No,” he insists. You just brush a gentle thumb along his neck, biting your lip in askance.  

But the longer he stares at your beautiful, hopeful eyes, the more cracks form in his resolve. 

Eventually, Dean breaks with a sigh, and a shake of his head. 

“You’re too much, you know that?” he mutters.

It’s then that you know you’ve won.

So with a happy squeal of excitement, you clap your hands and move to stand next to him so you can show him the basic steps of salsa dancing. 

You make him take off his robe and slippers, leaving in his shirt and plaid pajama pants. Then you instruct him for a few minutes, correcting his footing and getting him to move on a beat. You’re pleasantly surprised that he has some rhythm.  

Dean sighs once again. How the hell did we get here? Heat crawls up the back of his neck as embarrassment starts to set in. 

“This is fucking ridiculous,” he grumbles.

“You’re doing good,” you encourage, with a growing smile. “Now come on, feel the beat in threes. One, two, three. One, two, three…”

Once he sort of has the basic steps and turns down, you move to stand in front of him. There you show him how to hold you, how he’ll move forward, and you’ll move back. It takes a little while, but you slowly move through the combinations, then do a little twirl underneath his hand. 

When he pulls you back in without faltering, you give him a beaming smile. “Very good!”

A subtle grin raises his lips at your enthusiasm. He also feels his face heating up at the praise.

But you pause when a certain song filters through the speakers. It’s an old one (and it never fails to make you blush), but you love it.  

“Ooh, yes,” you exclaim with delight, and you turn up the volume.

“What’s this one?” Dean asks.

“Ven Devórame Otra Ves,” you inform him. Not that he knows what that means. You sing along a bit with the first couple of verses while you encourage Dean to lead you in the dance. 

This song is just slow enough for him to attempt it, and the funny thing is, he doesn’t feel all that uncomfortable with the steps now. He’s starting to get a feel for how to move, both with his feet, and with his hands as he guides you by your waist, holding your hand close to his chest. Still, Dean’s also curious about the lyrics you’re singing. 

“What does it mean?” he asks.

You huff in amusement. “You sure you want to know?”

Dean raises a brow. “Well, now I gotta know.” 

You giggle at that, though you correct his steps when he leads with the wrong foot. 

“Okay. It’s about a guy who’s pretty much a player,” you say with a smirk. “His bed has been a revolving door of hot ass, but he keeps thinking about this one woman who used to have him turned inside out…”

Dean’s lips curve at the familiar image you’re conjuring. He manages to turn you under his hand, then pull you back to him in one smooth motion. He looks down at you with a deeper gleam in his eyes. You bite your lip, soothing your hand from his shoulder and down his arm.

As the song’s verses come, you translate for him. And for Dean, your voice in itself is a spell.

“Even in my dreams, he says, I thought I had you devouring me. And I dampened my white sheets remembering you,” you begin. Your words are smooth like black velvet. “In my bed, no one is like you, who draws my body on every corner, without a piece of skin left over.”

Dean is getting hot under the collar as you push away, dragging your fingertips along his back as you turn around him. When you come back into his line of vision, his attention is attracted to the sway of your hips, clad just in those little spandex shorts. He has to clear his throat a bit. 

You eventually return to him with a warm hand against his chest. 

“Ven, devórame otra ves. It means, come devour me again,” you continue, looking up at him from under your lashes, “Come punish me more with your desire. Because I kept my love for you…because my mouth has the taste of your body.” 

You smile at the laser focus of his green-eyed gaze. “Come devour me again.”

You push off with another little spin. When you reach for his hand, Dean yanks you back into him, eliciting a gasp. The move disorients you for a moment, but you giggle and hold onto his arms. Your hands glide up to rest on his shoulders. 

He’s holding you flush against him, and as you shift a thigh between his legs, you unintentionally graze against his hardening length. You look up at him with a smirk.

“You’re a little…stiff,” you say, both flirtatious and teasing. “Let’s loosen you up.”

You shake his shoulders out and try to get him to relax. Dean raises a wry brow, because you know damn well whose fault it is that his body is coiled tight. But you place his hands on your hips as you move back into the dance. 

“Feel what I’m doing there?” you ask. He looks down on you with growing heat.

“If I could do that, we wouldn’t be together,” he rumbles. 

You try to stifle a laugh as he pulls you in close again, just swaying for a bit. Soon enough, you grin knowingly when his hands start to slide lower on your ass. His head bows to yours, ready to meet you with a kiss. 

You stop him with your finger on his lips.

“Question: do you consider yourself more of a tits or ass man?” you ask him. You’re half teasing, but still curious. Dean snorts at the question. 

“More of a connoisseur,” he replies, smirking. 

“Ah.” You nod sagely, and you point between him and yourself. “So this is like a ‘sample the menu’ situation.”

Dean’s smirk deepens. “Sweetheart, you’re a goddamn buffet.”

You splutter laughing…and that’s when he finally pounces. He claims your lips with greedy passion. His hand winds into your hair, gripping tight and ruining what’s left of your loose ponytail. The strands coil around his hand in messy curls while he also gets a healthy grip of your ass through your thin shorts. 

You smile into his lips, even as you acquiesce to him guiding your head to the side, so he can slip his tongue against yours. You grip his arms more for stability while he manhandles you, kneading soft flesh and making pleasant tingles run up your spine. 

After a little while, his mouth burns a hot path away from yours. He noses down your neck, skimming his lips across your skin. It sets your nerve endings on fire and gets you breathing more shallowly in his ear. You cling to the back of his shirt, holding him close. 

Often he’s one to leave love bites of varying degrees, wherever he sees fit. But for a moment he stops at the crook of your neck, just pressing a lingering kiss.

He lets out a deep breath, and you realize he’s probably thinking about where you were bitten. The wound is gone, but it doesn’t change what’s imprinted in both of your minds.  

A softer smile grows on your face. You trail your fingers up into his hair, massaging the back of his neck. 

“I’m okay,” you remind him. Dean hums deep in agreement. You know, however, that he’s still thinking far too much.

So you slide your hands down, slow between the dips and planes of muscle in his back, and rest at his hips. Your thumbs delve under the hem of his shirt and tease the skin there. 

And you start slow, pressing wet, nipping kisses of your own to his neck while you inch his shirt up. You feel his smile on your neck. His grip on your hip flares to life. Still, he lets you tug his shirt up and over his head. Your loose shirt comes next, revealing the same black satin and lace bra you wore the first time he ever got you topless in his arms. 

A fan favorite. Dean grins. He reaches around to go for the clasp, but your firm push on his chest takes him by surprise.

He falls back onto the couch with a grunt, looking up at you then with raised brows. You’ve got a mischievous little smirk on your face that heats his blood and makes his cock twitch.

You take out the rest of your falling ponytail, shaking your hair out wild. Then you let your hands drift down your neck, over your clothed breasts, and finally to your little shorts.

Dean rubs his palms down his thighs and watches. A smirk forms across his lips as you slide the fabric down the curve of your hips. It leaves you in a red thong, familiar to him by the little tear it has on the front. (Again, his fault.)

You climb aboard his strong thighs to straddle his lap, using his shoulders as leverage as you sink down. You make sure to rub yourself teasingly against his clothed erection. He groans in appreciation. His hands fly to your soft, thick thighs and squeeze. 

“Aw, I like this,” Dean says, half on another moan as you grind down a bit harder on him. 

“Yeah?” you tease. You take his face in your hands and capture his lips with your own. Your tongue invades his mouth, and he welcomes you with a deep hum. It’s slow and hot at first, but Dean feels the loss of you when you break from his lips.

Instead, you treat him with the same trail of kisses he gave you, along the curve of his jaw and down his neck. But you don’t stop there.

Your hands move over his chest with purpose, tweaking over each hard nipple while your mouth burns a wet line down and down his sternum. Dean groans at your ministrations, but lets you leave his lap to slide down to the ground, between his thighs. 

“What’re you up to, baby?” he asks, despite having a very good idea of it. He catches the playful, yet determined gleam in your eye. 

You pause, briefly leaning back up to give him a heated kiss. You part from him with a grin. 

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “I’m gonna devour you.”

Dean stares hard at you as goosebumps break out across his forearms. 

Oh, fuck yeah. 

A giggle bubbles in your throat at the expression on his face. But you continue, taking his pants down his legs first, before his boxer briefs. 

Dean’s body tenses in anticipation. You’ve gone down on him before, but somehow it’s different this time. He feels like every single one of his nerve endings stands at attention along with his dick. And you’re taking your sweet time working him up. 

Even when his cock is finally free, you sooth your hands down his legs first, maybe teasing him a bit as you drag your nails down his inner thighs. Dean makes a strained sound, though he tries to hide it by clearing his throat.

Your gaze flicks up to his with a little smile. He’s holding the back of the couch; his fingers are digging into the old cushion in effort to keep still for you. But his eyes stare into yours like a man starving. You know what you’re in for after you have your way with him, but for now, he’s quite literally under your control. 

So you take him in your hands first. Dean groans as you tease him with light touches, soft movements, your thumb slowly circling over the sensitive, weeping head of his cock. It's torturous enough to make him drop his head back against the couch, closing his eyes tight.

And suddenly, he blinks them open again.

“Shit,” he utters, when you finally take him into your mouth. Your tongue is soft and wet, your lips move over him steadily, and your hands caress whatever your mouth can’t take, even teasing his balls. 

You work him over relentlessly, until he can’t help but spill everything he has to give into your waiting mouth. When you suck off and swallow whatever remains, Dean’s heart stutters like syncopated conga drums. 

He shudders and struggles for breath afterwards, watching your every movement—from wiping your mouth to shooting him that satisfied little smirk. 

You press one last kiss to the inside of his thigh before you raise from where you’ve been kneeling on the hard ground. 

Dean manages to lean forward and helps you up by your elbows. But then he pulls you back into his lap and kisses you deeply. He doesn’t let up until you’re panting with him.

“Fuckin’ hell, sweetheart,” he manages to say. His voice is deep and laced with grit. 

He’s still panting heavily. You giggle and press your warming face into his neck. 

“What, now you’re shy?” he remarks. And he has to laugh. “Come back here.”

He brings your face back to him with a hand on your cheek. For a second, he just looks at you. His thumb strokes across your full, thoroughly kissed bottom lip.  

“Say it,” you encourage softly. “Whatever you’re thinking. Right now.”

A smile tugs at his lips. He can’t help but oblige you. 

“You’re too damn much,” he says again, both gruff and fond. Despite how you drive him up the fucking wall sometimes, he doesn't think it'll ever be enough for him, what he has with you.

Because this is something he'd almost given up on. Didn't think he'd get to have it. And it almost scares him, how much he wants you. How much he...

“I love you,” he says. His thumb traces along the familiar curve of your cheek.

It hasn’t been all that long, but he knows. You weaseled your way in without even trying. The least he can do for you is be honest.

Your fingers curl around his wrist, holding his hand in place. You tilt your head at him.

“Oh, yeah?” you ask. 

Dean hesitates, but he nods. “Yeah.”

A smile grows across your face. “Eh, I’m still on the fence.”

At his flat look, you laugh and lean in for a kiss. He allows it, a little petulantly. But you make up for it with sweet affection. Your gentle hands stroke down the column of his neck, down his chest. You then lean back so he can see your face.

“Yo te amo,” you whisper. “Te amo y te quiero, más que tú puedes creer y entender.”

Dean smiles. He doesn’t understand all of it, but he gets the important bits. He hears it in the tone of your voice. He sees it in your eyes. They shine with emotion, but mainly with love. 

Dean kisses your hand. He lets go, just so he can slip his hands around you to finally unhook your bra. He tosses it across the room without bothering to see where it lands.

You do though, and you meet him with a slightly narrowed gaze. 

“Are you making a mess of my clean bunker?” you tease. 

His lips curve as he kisses you again, while his hands each get a generous handful of your breasts. 

“Ah, hello, ladies." He grins. "Miss me?”

You can’t help but laugh. He’s such a dork sometimes.

But you hum when his thumbs brush over hardened nipples, then drag deliberate circles over them, and pinch just hard enough to make you whimper in pleasure. The sensation zips through you, enhancing the flood between your legs. 

“I fucking love that sound,” Dean mutters, and licks a hot path in the valley between your breasts. His lips move against your dewy skin when he says, “Do that for me again.”

When he takes a nipple in his mouth and nips a bit hard, you have to oblige him. Your voice rising high is music to his ears.  

So he goes for your panties next. You help him get them off and return to his lap. With a breathy moan, you revel at the feeling of his fingers probing into your wet heat.  

However, you and Dean have been too engrossed in one another to notice the door of the bunker unlocking, and heavy steps down the spiral staircase. 

It’s Sam who’s back from his run. Unfortunately, he soon has to shield his eyes upon reaching the living room. 

“Damn it, Dean!”

You yelp in surprise, but Dean laughs and holds you close to shield you from view. As a bonus, it presses your breasts against his chest. 

“All right, Sammy. Go to your room,” he chides playfully (but he means it). “The adults are havin’ a moment.”

Sam scoffs. “You’re having a moment on the goddamn couch!”

“Sorry,” you say, though it’s muffled in Dean’s neck. Your face is red hot with embarrassment. 

Sam rolls his eyes heavenward and tries not to see anything else on his way to his room. 

But Dean’s chuckle reverberates through your chest as his hand goes to your cheek. He encourages you to pull back, so he can see your face again. 

When he does, he smirks at the scarlet blush dusting your cheeks and neck. You bite your lower lip, but despite your embarrassment, you’re happy.

Your own words replay in your mind when you lean in for another kiss.

I love you, you’d said. I love you and I love you, more than you can believe and understand. 

AN: Yay! I hope you enjoyed Part 2 of the “Midnight Espresso”-verse! I loved writing this one so much. I know we're just doing fanfic here, but I genuinely put my heart and soul into this one. ❤️

Also, here are a couple of Spanish translations:

(Note: other Spanish-speaking countries may interpret certain words differently.)

[During their fight]: 

“Que sin vergüenza tú eres. Sigue jodiendo conmigo, coño. Entonces tú vas a ver quien soy yo.”

Translation:

“You’re shameless. Keep messing with me, damn it. Then you’re going to see who I am (<- This is Dominican slang. It essentially means fuck around and find out what I'm made of.).”

[Song lyrics: “Yo No Se Mañana” by Luis Enrique]: 

“Yo no se mañana…yo no se mañana. Si estaremos juntos, si se acaba el mundo.”

Translation:

“I don’t know tomorrow. I don’t know tomorrow. If we’ll be together, if the world will end.”

Keep Reading:

Next in this series is "Chico Malo" ("Bad Boy"):

Summary: You catch Dean red-handed—with one of his favorite episodes of Casa Erotica.

▶️ Next Story: Bad Boy (Chico Malo)

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[mvmnbnv]

Did you finish act one 1 because I need to know your feelings. Like I’m honestly not feeling the writing and pacing for the first 3 episodes. It feels like a different show. I’m feeling iffy on how they’re centering Vi’s entire conflict on Caitlyn. Like of course she feels bad for Caitlyn, but it feels like her concern is more centered on Caitlyn mother’s Cassandra and Piltover and not much of what they did to Zaun.

Yes, I know Vi becomes enforcer, but it’s so fast paced that she only dwelled on not wanting to being an enforcer for a little bit?

Also, the way they’re writing the sister’s relationship…I’m not really feeling it either. She’s didn’t even grieve her? It’s like Vi has put her own personal trauma and feelings to the side for Caitlyn’s sake.

Like I need act 2 to actually give us insight on what’s going on in her mind because she’s had time zero to process what has happened to her.

hey!

yeah, i watched act one and boy there was a LOT going on, but ofc my main focus was vi so ig ill touch on that

i didnt like how she ultimately chose to became an enforcer, and it was hardly a choice because she was enlisted even after she blatantly said no, but she kinda just watches everything fall apart after the memorial and is just like "okay fuck it ill do it" like...sister what??? and boooy do i need her to stop centering caitlyn because why tf did she let her literally gas the undercity!?!? Like i hope when she comes back as an enforcer again she actually puts her fucking foot down, espeically considering she'll probably be piltovers protector atp. but i hate how everything everyone who worked on the show pretty much alludes to everything about her having to do with cait...i can only hope that they see it as a character flaw but im not even sure atp. and boooy ep 3...oh boy that just djfhsjdkffh. a physical assault is nuts...and i already see people trying to compare it to when vi hit powder, and if thats what they were going for then they missed the mark intensely because there are just too many descrepancies that make it not the same. cait's borderline biggoted language beforehand and telling vi she thought she was different...for stopping her from possibly killing a child of all things?? it doesnt make much sense. and it literally cant be compared because vi herself was a child in ep 3 s1, a child with the intention of coming back mind you lmao, cait kinda just hit her and left for good. idk bro im still trying to rack my brain around it all

[pigswithwings]

Sources: Wikipedia (Angel), Wikipedia (Robot), Wikipedia (Sacredness - Holy), Wikipedia (Guardian Angel), Wikipedia (Duty), Wikipedia (Seraph), Wikipedia (Transcendence - Religion), Wikipedia (Divinity)

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Requirements to be in the coven of Agatha Harkness, most infamous witch in the world:

gay

[flowercrowngods]

🤍🌷 @stevesbipanic and @the-winged-doe asked to see ugly unpolished unrefined words, soo—

cw & tags: past major character death, grief, attempted time-travel fix-it(s), eddie&robin besties || potential wip

Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, the biting hot smoke hitting the back of his throat and clawing its way into his lungs, going as deep as he allows and leaving a permanent mark that brings neither relief nor calmness tonight. His fingers shake where they’re pressed to his lips, but the rest of him is unmoving where he sits on the front porch of their new trailer. 

It’s quiet out here. It’s always quiet in Hawkins these days, the city a fucking ghosttown. 

And he knows it’s not because of the one they lost. He knows it’s not because of him. But still the emptiness is stark and the silence oppressivem more so than it ever has been. 

Everyone still looks for him, months later. Dustin still begins to speak, cutting himself off mid-sentence, and Robin still stands with enough space to either side, like she expects him to just show up and invade her space like the home he made for himself in there. 

And somewhere among all that is Eddie. With his very own history. Or, non-history, as it turns out. But history and non-history leave wounds alike, and the memories feel just as real. A small mercy, at the end of the day, for them to feel real when they’re all he has left anymore. 

He takes another drag, not quite exhaling before he obliterates the cigarette and fishes for a new one before the butt even hits the ground. 

Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, he only gets as far as placing the butt between his lips before a hand snakes into his field of vision to snag it from his mouth. 

“Hey,” he complains halfheartedly but makes no attempt at getting it back, watching instead as Robin comes up to sit beside him, grimacing at the stink of tobacco that must be heavy around him. 

“You’re disgusting,” she says with no real heat behind her words.

Eddie shrugs, because yeah, sure. He’s been called worse things. Robin’s called him worse things. This is her being nice. Her complaininig about his incessant smoking is nothing new. What is new is what she does next, placing the cigarette between her own lips and reaching for the light he’s been holding in a loose grip since she arrived. 

She starts coughing immediately, pulling a face at the disgusting feeling of smoke in her lungs and tobacco on her tongue. But she keeps going. Eddie can only watch in surprise and mild horror. 

“These things’ll kill you,” he says then in an echo of her usual sentiment, aware that he sounds as bewildered as he feels. 

“Well,” Robin says, aiming for casual, but quickly interrupted by a wheeze and a cough that’s almost adorable. “Let them try.” 

Eddie huffs, a pale little smile lingering on his lips as he leans back against the stairs behind him, resting his weight on his forearm to watch her. There is something captivating about her. Eddie always wonders what it is, wants to study her forever. 

Maybe it’s only the lingering traces of Everything Steve Harrington that clings to her every breath, her every move, her every fucking cell, with how much he was a part of her and she of him. Maybe it’s their shared grief that has made Eddie fall a bit in love with her and with the way the moonlight catches in her hair and in the smoke wafting from her cigarette. 

But somehow he refuses to believe that all he loves about her is merely the memory of Steve. 

Robin, in turn, is kind enough to let him stare. Kind enough to let him find out what it is between them. If this friendship is more than a misguided projection of grief and mourning and trauma; more than co-dependence and the obsessive will to keep this one person in your life. This one person who understands. 

After a while of Robin just holding the cigarette between her fingers, becuase no matter how strong her will to self destruct, she never quite got it right with the smoking, Eddie snatches it back before it goes to waste completely. As if pulled in by a string attached to his hollowed out chest, Robin leans back and into him in one smooth motion. It’s too calculated, though, and Eddie can feel how much she sags once she doesn’t have to hold herself up anymore. 

He’ll hold her. It’s fine. She gets to rest if she wants to. God knows she needs it. 

The night is warm for mid-September, but still Robin shakes against him. Eddie holds her closer. 

Silence settles over them, and it’s not an easy one. Silence is never easy anymore, especially with them. He feels so deeply hollow that even the silence echoes in there, creating an ever-present, uncomfortable thrumming of apprehension and anxiety within him. A certain sense of doom, one that can’t quite decide if it’s only an echo itself. 

“I wanna stop time,” Robin says at last, the cigarette long dead between Eddie’s fingers, but he somehow can’t bring himself to flick it away. “I don’t want tomorrow.” 

I don’t ever want a new day. I don’t ever want another tomorrow. I just want Steve. 

They ring in his head still, another echo that only hollows him out further every time it reaches him — Robin, overcome with hysterical grief, screaming and crying, curled up on that hospital floor, her cries quieting down and making Eddie wish she would be loud again, because the quiet was what killed him. The quiet, the whispered words, the declarations that tomorrow could go fuck itself if it came without Steve made him wish, irrationally, desperately, that their roles were reversed. That he could have died and Steve could have lived, and Robin would never have to wish tomorrow never came. 

He’s not entirely sure if she remembers the words, too. If she even said them in this world. 

So he takes a deep breath, breathes away memories and non-histories, feels the heavy weight of his guitar pick hanging around his neck, resting on the scarred flesh of his chest, and tries not to think of the one string left on his acoustic guitar. Tries not to think of his one last attempt. One last try. 

“I know,” he tells her. “Me neither.” 

He peers over her head, lifting his left wrist to check his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until Steve’s birthday. 

“It’s not tomorrow yet,” he tries lamely, and Robin huffs — the sound wet and bitter and hopeless, making Eddie’s eyes sting. 

“It’s always fucking tomorrow,” she rasps, her voice flat and wavering, and Eddie knows her well enough to know she’s about to cry. And she knows him well enough to do it. 

“I know,” he says again, and reaches for his necklace through his shirt. One more attempt. One more try. One more chance. His eyes burn. 

She turns to him after taking a moment to compose herself, peering up at him through her lashes. 

“Tell me again?” 

His heart falls, the tense apprehension vanishing from the air, bur quickly replaced by something a lot more heavy. Something that looks and smells and feels like grief. 

They both know he’ll do anything she asks. He can’t really bear saying not to her. And not about this, anyway — she’s the only one who knows. 

She’s the one who should have had the chance. 

“Which part?” he asks, holding a new cigarette out for her to light it. She does, and the both follow the flame of the lighter Robin always keeps in her pocket these days. 

She leans forward and takes a drag. Eddie lets her. 

“All of them.“

Eddie sighs, pain welling up inside him, and he closes his eyes against the night sky. “Robbie,” he pleads, but he doesn’t finish his plea. He’ll do it. He’ll do anything she asks. 

But before he starts recounting the tales of how he almost saved Steve Harrington, he finds himself saying something he never thought he’d tell her. 

“There’s one more.” The words hang in the air, and Robin doesn’t react. Has no idea what’s coming; what he’s about to tell her. The guitar pick is heavy on the necklace around his throat. “There’s one more try. One more chance. I’m… I have one more—“ 

He can’t even finish the sentence. Can’t bring himself to say it, lest it all be jinxed forever. He doesn’t want to hope. Wants to carry this weight for all eternity and never think about all those times he failed to save someone he was never meant to save at all. People like Eddie, they’re not made to save anyone. Hell, they can’t even save themselves. 

Steve was supposed to be the one doing the saving. 

And he did. God, he fucking did. But he was never supposed to— 

Cold fingers wrap around his own as Robin fits their hands together. 

“I hate you a little bit for telling me.” 

Eddie nods, trying to focus on the cold hand and the nicotine in his lungs, trying not to let panic and grief and guilt and the heavy weight of one more chance win. “I know.” 

“Hey, Eddie?” Robin says after a while, the silence stretching on, and it’s almost midnight now. “Can you— Would you do something for me?” 

He turns his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the darkness beyond them. “What’s that?” 

“Don’t— Don’t try to, to save him. Don’t— Just… Just maybe, could you celebrate his birthday with him? Make sure he knows he’s… God, make sure he knows he’s loved? Last year, no one really made time on his birthday and we just moved it backwards but God, could you— It’s almost midnight, and—“ 

“Robbie,” Eddie interrupts her, his voice hoarse and wavering, his eyes burning with tears as he tugs her close and holds her to his chest. “You should go. Don’t you wanna…” 

But she’s shaking her head against him with a vehemence that can hardly be misunderstood. 

“No,” she cries, and it’s more of a sob than anything. “I think if I ever saw him again, I’d… I don’t know what I’d do. Burn the whole fucking world to the ground for him or some shit, I can’t— I’d probably just cry all the time and that wouldn’t be helpful, really.” There’s a weak, wet laugh that bubbles out of both of them, and Eddie’s wiping at Robin’s face, drying the tears and making way for new ones to fall. 

“I’d light a fire for you,” Eddie says, the same weak smile on his lips that Robin meets him with now. “Nineteen fucking fires, you hear me?” 

She laughs again, then buries her face in his neck in a way that never quite fit. In a way that Eddie always knew was supposed to be someone else’s neck. 

But he’s not here anymore. And Eddie can’t get him back. No matter how much he aches for it, no matter how much he learned over and over and over again how easy it is to love Steve Harrington and how hard, how fucking impossible it is to lose him. Over and over and over again. 

And to live without him. This one fucking time they all get. It’s not fair. 

And now Robin is asking him to go back one more time and make sure that Steve knows— That he knows. 

Somehow the thought of that feels nobler than any attempt to save him, to bring him back; to rewrite history from a lonely boy’s perspective and hope that no one else is reading along. 

It feels right, too. Fundamentally and suddenly, and with such an intensity that Eddie knows the decision has been made the second he started telling her. 

Still he hesitates. Robin’s sobs have calmed down, and Eddie’s hand finds its way into her hair. 

“Do you really mean it?” 

She nods.

He nods, too, but slower. Like he’s trying to sway himself. Which way, he doesn’t know. 

“Make him happy.” 

“Okay,” he decides after a while, feeling hollow and desperate, but feeling purpose burning underneath his skin again. “One last time.” 

He unwinds his arms from around her and heads inside to grab his acoustic guitar. The last remaining string, badly untuned because he never dared to touch it, stares back at him in both mockery and invitation. A dare. A chance. A promise. 

Outside, Robin is waiting for him, looking anxious. Eddie wants to hug her. He doesn’t, only tightens his grip around the guitar’s neck. 

“Listen, Eddie, if this is goodbye or something—“ 

“It’s a birthday party, Robsie,” he interrupts her, aiming for light, aiming for brave. “I’m coming back right here.” 

“I know,” she rushes to say, taking a step toward him and wringing her hands. It’s endearing. It’s genuine. Eddie really is a little in love with her. “But, y’know, you don’t mess with time, and I don’t know what all you already changed before and I don’t wanna know but… If this is goodbye, if something happens, I just wanna tell you that I’m gonna miss you. And that I think you’re really cool. And that Steve’s— he’s really missing out, okay. Okay?” 

Eddie breathes, taking in her words and letting them soak into his body, his every last fibre. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “Thank you. You’re… I’m kind of in love with you, Robin Buckley. So there had better be no change in the universe, ‘cause that would really suck.” 

They smile at each other, Eddie with his guitar and Robin with her lighter, and somehow this feels like a deja-vu. The antithesis to a moment forever burned into his memory.

Make him pay. 

Make him happy. 

Eddie tugs on his necklace and plays the string before he can think about it too hard; before he can decide otherwise. 

Distantly, he hears the church bells announcing midnight as the world around him fades. 

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @cryptic-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @bookworm0690 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[gunsatthaphan]

~ Monthly BL Breakdown: April 2024 ~ 

🌷 Happy May!!! ☀️

Disclaimer: ALL shows can be streamed here or here, as well as on Youtube and other platforms. For more info on where to watch what, check out this post! 

New breakdowns are coming at the end of every month - feel free to add stuff! -> previous breakdowns

What came out this month? (green = seen/currently watching)

🌟 Love is Like a Cat - April 1st (South Korea / Thailand) 

🌟 We Are - April 3rd (Thailand) ✅

🌟 Memory in the Letter - April 6th (Thailand) 

🌟 Living With Him - April 11th (Japan) 

🌟 Gray Shelter - April 11th (South Korea) 

🌟 Beating Again - April 13th (Thailand)

🌟 Blue Boys - April 15th (South Korea)

🌟 At 25:00 in Alasaka - April 18th (Japan)

🌟 GMMTV2024 Part 2 (lineup event) - April 23rd (Thailand) ✅

🌟 Boys Be Brave - April 25th (South Korea) 

🌟 CHANGE2561 2024 lineup event - April 25th (Thailand) ✅

🌟 My Stand-In - April 26th (Thailand) ✅

🌟 City Boy Log Vol. 3 - April 30th (South Korea)

New series & movie announcements

🎥 The Fridge - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Flavor of Us (starring Benjamin B., Dome W. & others) - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Children's Day - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Blue Time - Date TBA (China, possibly censored)

🎥 Bad Guy My Boss - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Oriental Magician In The Ent. Circle - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Under the Oak Tree - Date TBA (Vietnam)

🎥 Invitation - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 The Love Matter - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 I Saw You in My Dream - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 I Wish You the Best - Date TBA (Thailand)

🎥 Impression of Youth - Date TBA (Taiwan)

🎥 Meet You at the Blossom - Date TBA (Taiwan)

Other news from the BL world

❗️ The production company Studio WabiSabi announced that their actors Boun N., Prem W., Santa P., Sammy C., Yacht P. and Stamp P. have terminated their contracts and will no longer be artists under the company on April 15th. Shortly after, GMMTV announced the 6 of them as newly signed artists, along with the disclosure that BounPrem's upcoming BL Vampire Project is now being produced under GMMTV, who now also own all broadcasting rights; WabiSabi will function as a co-producer. New S. stated on Twitter that the decisions had been long in the making, as well as the fact that WabiSabi no longer functions as a management agency for actors and is now a mere production company. He also denied the rumors that the company is shutting down. Shortly after the transfer of the Wabi Sabi actors, actor Fluke Jeeratch (formerly Pongsakorn) joined GMMTV as well.

❗️ The Filipino BL Gameboys is getting a third season. An air date has not been confirmed.

❗️ P Ekkapop and Pan Jirachot, the lead actors from Kiseki Chapter 2, have announced a new project together. Details are unknown.

❗️ Actor Barcode Tinnasit has announced his departure from his agency Be On Cloud.

❗️ After some confusion, the Korean production company Studio X+U announced that their upcoming series Fragile - which was initially advertized as a Korean SKAM remake - is in fact not connected to the Norwegian web series and is instead a standalone series, which focuses on the life of a group of teenagers. According to ZUM News, there was supposed to be a Korean SKAM remake based on the Norwegian original, which was however cancelled due to unknown reasons. Fragile was created as a substitution.

❗️ GMMTV held their 2024 part 2 event on April 23rd. The following BL projects were announced:

The Heart Killers (starring FirstKhao & JoongDunk)

Perfect10 Liners (starring ForceBook, PerthChimon, JuniorMark)

Heart That Skips a Beat (starring EstWilliam)

Revamp (starring BounPrem, formerly known as Vampire Project)

Sweet Tooth, Good Dentist (starring MarkOhm)

The Ex-Morning (starring KristSingto)

❗️ The production company CHANGE2561 held their 2024 lineup event on April 25th. The following BL projects were announced:

This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans (starring SailubPon)

Goddess Bless You From Death (starring PavelPooh)

I’m The Most Beautiful Count (starring PingSupanut)

Pit Babe Season 2

Upcoming series & movies for May

👉🏻 You Made My Day (starring Tar A. and Bom T. from I Will Knock You) - May 3rd (Thailand)

👉🏻 Inverse Identity / Upside Down - Mary 3rd (China)

👉🏻 Wandee Goodday - May 4th (Thailand)

👉🏻 A Balloon's Landing - May 10th (Taiwan)

👉🏻 City of Stars: Special Episode - May 10th (Thailand, cinema release)

👉🏻 The Time of Fever (Unintentional Love Story spinoff) - May 15th (South Korea)

👉🏻 Blossom Campus - May 16th (South Korea)

👉🏻 OMG! Vampire - May 19th (Thailand)

👉🏻 Manji Reverse - May 24th (Japan)

👉🏻 My Biker 2 - May 28th (Thailand)

[mindfogs]

a brief comparison of compleately different medias that rewired my brain. yes i'm aware the target audience of this post is me only.

It was supposed to be a joke but I can’t do anything casually so a more vaguely detailed analysis under the cut.

spoilers for all three obviously but vague spoilers about themes and not plot points. i could have gone more in the specifics but it's late and i don't want to fall in this rabbit hole right now i need sleep.

If you strip these stories of all the cool visuals and funny jokes, if you take away their narratives with the world about to end, you're left with pure, naked, vulnerable love that is such a core essence of any of these characters. Love is what can destroy or save the world. Love is what drives the heroes forward. Love is what keeps them from dying.

I think all three stories are about being loved and accepted for who you are. Even if you've changed and you don't like yourself, even if you've stayed the same and you don't like yourself.

They're about tearing yourself apart, throw up, slashing yourself open in front of the one you love. Let them see everything, the bad and the gross and asking "do you still love me?".

They're about enduring, sacrificing yourself, everything, sacrificing the world, God, the entire universe for the one you love.

They're about trusting to choose each other over and over again, everytime, in every universe, even if the next time you see me I may not be what you remembered. Even if you don't recognize me.

They're about eating, gnawing, cannibalizing each other over and over and over in a mutual exchange of obsession.

They're about carving your own peace when you don't even know what peace it's supposed to be like

They're about grief and loss and learning to be whole again.

They're about submitting oneself to the horrifying oredeal of being known in order to allowing the reward of being loved.

It's about "it's rotten work" and answering everytime without esitation "not to me, not if it's you"

[miraofhearts2point0]

i cannot stand the fact adap Chishiya is a Hearts player, sowz. it's clear to me the adap writers completely misunderstood what makes someone a Hearts player in the first place and ran with it.

Chishiya can read others emotions to some extent, sure, but not in-depth enough to sympathize.

you wanna know why Chishiya (and Niragi) are Diamonds players? because they don't care enough to truly understand the hearts of others. they manipulate situations, not (usually) out of desperation, but because it's all they know. they lack a genuine understanding with others.

(adap) Arisu being a Diamonds player also completely misses the point: Arisu is so similar to Chishiya and Niragi that if, at any point prior to the Borderlands, he had one more thing go wrong, he could've ended up like the two of them; but he didn't because he refused to be like that.

Arisu is a Hearts player because he's both smarter than he gives himself credit for, and emotionally mature enough to take to heart (wink wink) the emotions of others and actively put himself in their shoes to get through a game.

that last reason is why Matsushita Enji is such a lousey Hearts player, because, like Chishiya and Niragi, he isn't emotionally mature enough to truly be good at Hearts. he has great setups, sure, but he's too proud to acknowledge other players and their inteligence, which is why he was ultimately defeated by Yaba and Banda.

Yaba and Banda both come from backgrounds where they need to read others to some extent: Yaba, a CEO who climbed the corporate ladder by reading others and using those emotions to his advantage (as we saw happen with Arisu when he was confronted by the militants), and Banda, a misogynistic murderer who got into the houses of women he killed, needed to be agile enough to get them to trust him by manipulating the situation in his favor, all while keeping in mind the emotions of those he killed.

Hearts games are not won by sheer manipulation, as we saw with Enji and Urumi; there needs to be a level of connection with others if you want to survive, which is also why Mitsurugi's defeat was so upsetting; ideally, he did everything right, but ultimately was a bit too confident in his plan and thus, refused to acknowledge the power the other players had. he was too good of a person.

Mira is a bit of an outlier, not because she was bad at the games or anything, but because she's the perfect mix of both understanding and master manipulator; if she went up against any other player in the Borderlands, they would easily lose. Arisu almost lost too, but as we've established, Hearts games are built off connections with others and Usagi was needed in order to make it.

I'm sure Mira was well-aware of that fact, especially with Arisu, but her ulimate failure was the same as Mitsurugi's: she ended up downplaying the connection between him and Usagi. Hearts games need love, level-headedness, mild manipulation, and an open mind if you intend to win.

going back to my main point, that's why Chishiya either avoids Hearts games all together, manipulates people during them, or turns to violence; he lacks the emotional maturity and agency to clear one the way they are meant to be cleared, why Arisu is a much better Hearts player than Chishiya will ever be, and why the adap writers completely misunderstood that point.

[sea-buns]

Forgive me if I'm a bit nervous about Gorgug this season. It's just that the last Zac Oyama pc was Colin Provolone, who was arguably one of his greatest D20 performances, if not the greatest.

Zac always does great with every pc he plays, but Colin was something else. He came out swinging with actions and words that were teeming with unspoken emotional baggage. The way Colin's presence affected the other pcs; there was this level of depth that I don't think I've seen in any of his other characters. It was understated and quiet in that signature "just a guy" way that he tends to be, while still captivating everyone instantly with just how raw it was.

Not to say we haven't seen emotional depth in Gorgug. It's just that, compared to the other Bad Kids, Gorgug's journey and progression as a character has been very... impersonal? Like, yes, he found his birth parents, and he found friends who appreciate him, and he faced his insecurities about his intelligence, and he navigated relationship troubles, and his trial through the claustrophobic bug-tunnels was a horrifically-uncanny parallel to how he's spent his entire life trying to make himself as small as possible.

But how much of that has actually changed him from the Gorgug we started with? I would agree that he's definitely happier with his life, given all the loving and supportive people that have been added to it when it used to be just him and his parents. And he's certainly grown into himself and become more self-assured in his abilities, even if he's still, and always will be, our anxious little guy. And there's nothing wrong with that. I've always liked how Gorgug was a representation of all the little things. The subtle acts and kindnesses that don't seem like much to most, but to some are everything.

We don't need another Bad Kid living in fear that their mouth could be shit-in at any moment. We've already got one-too-many.

All that being said, I just feel like Gorgug's personal story beats are much easier to sweep under the rug than everyone else's. He has the same soft and understated quality that Colin held, but they lack that extra oomph that pushed Colin over the edge from being just another guy in a series of dudes, to a character that the vast majority of us could not get out of our heads. He took someone who was anxious and softspoken, who ultimately never wanted to be violent— someone who is remarkably similar to Gorgug in many ways— and maintained that demeanor and core in Colin's character while still hitting us in the feels with character development at max velocity at every turn.

I think Zac gets better and better at this with every season that goes by. With each new character, there is always something that leaves me stunned in awe. And it's been, what, three? Four years since we last saw Gorgug?

I'm just,,, I'm cautiously optimistic but also going into a bit of a worry about what violence this man may inflict upon us

[lylahammar]

I've been rewatching the first two seasons of The Bear so I can watch the third season that just came out and man the character writing in this show makes me froth at the mouth it's like some of the best arcs I've ever seen in a TV series

[sugarsnappeases]

fnvjfnbjgnjb I really hope this isn't weird but I am actually so desperate to hear some of your rosekiller headcanons (the more fucked up the better < 3)

hello!!!! i am. actually…. would you guys murder me if i said i didn’t think about rosekiller like all that often….. when i do think about them it’s normally prompted by things that saints @foursaints (lord and saviour of the rosekillers) posts. but. just for you, my dearest futurequibblerjournalist, i’ve been racking my brain for some vaguely interesting things to say. so:

to start off, in terms of characterisations, in my mind, barty is a ‘worshipper’ and evan is an ‘investigator’ if that makes sense - like my barty (and again this is heavily influenced by my whole barty michelangelo variant thing which i never shut up about) is someone who will completely offer himself up to, in this case, evan, like he’s trying to get under evan’s skin both idiomatically and literally, there’s this whole kinda masochistic self-dispossession thing going on which is him just entirely putting himself in evan’s hands, at his disposal, a ‘whatever rosie wants, rosie gets’ kinda thing (and all the things that rosie wants are a little fucked up… like evan wants. a rib, let’s say, and barty is immediately offering his up, like take mine please take mine i have a few to spare, and they do the surgery, no anaesthetic, lots of eye contact, and it’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened to either of them… evan likes to run his fingers over the stitches before they’re fully healed up, maybe pull a few out, just to see….)

anyway i digress but also kinda not a huge digression bc that leads me on to evan as ‘investigator’ - disclaimer!!! evan as a character is a lot more nebulous to me than barty, like i feel like i haven’t entirely grasped him yet so allow me some wiggle room please and thank you but. evan is curious, that’s his central characteristic in my mind, he just wants to like… see, to understand. i think he doesn’t care much for people in terms of them being like actual people, he cares more about. how they work i guess biologically, like how their bones connect to allow them to move in particular ways, how the neurons in their brains do things (i’m really not a steminist i’m sorry guys) to make them say things and act in particular ways. his like. life mission. or whatever. is to figure out how ‘humanity’ works if that makes sense….

and barty is a bit of an aberration in some ways bc he doesn’t interact how he’s supposed to interact and he doesn’t move how he’s supposed to move and evan is curious, bc he normally doesn’t allow anything to bother him but barty is just. a bother. like in general. and evan wants to crack barty’s head open and get a good look at his brain, prod at it, investigate it, and barty would let him. barty would genuinely actually let him and that sort of power, someone being that devoted to you, is a little heady in a way that evan has never really experienced and barty would do anything bc he sees evan and he sees someone who wants to dig deep beneath the surface of him, someone who wouldn’t flinch away from whatever ugliness their digging revealed, bc both of them are so rotten at their cores imo, and he sees a sort of ascension, a higher purpose maybe… it’s absolute body and soul devotion, it’s ‘he could physically cut my heart to pieces and put it under a microscope and that would be divinity’

[kyouka-supremacy]

:O

[darthyolk]

I've finally finished my first boss for my demon hunting game Judgement Nights! A guard dog for a much stronger demon, Grub keeps their secret safe and hidden from all mortal or demonic eyes

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

A big thanks to @witchybitchybisexual who tagged me in this amazing 30-questions Golden Girls-themed game; I had a *great* time answering these! I look forward to reading everyone's answers (including yours, @witchybitchybisexual!).

I'm hiding all questions after #1 under a cut, because this got long haha!

1. How did you find out about the show?

Via another show I love -- Good Omens! Or, actually, via the amazing book that inspired it. One of the main characters, the demon Crowley, is a big fan of The Golden Girls; there's a great scene in which the forces of hell hijack one of Rose's monologues to send him a message while he's watching the show! I was in need of something new to watch at the time, and I figured if Crowley liked it so much, it was at least worth checking out. :)

2. One storyline you’d eliminate?

Hmm... probably Miles' witness protection program storyline? I don't mind it that much (it gave us some fun jokes and some memorable scenes!), but I feel like that was a turning point in Miles' character, and I just don't like the person he became after that turning point.

There was no question 3 here, so I made up my own! Hope that's not an issue :)

3. Best guest star/character?

Lynnie Greene takes the cake as the best guest star, for sure. I adore her and she played a phenomenal young!Dorothy. The second place goes to Dick Van Dyke, just because I love him in general!

As for the best guest character, I think the honour goes to Angela, Sophia's sister! She's absolutely hilarious and her comedic chemistry with Sophia is stellar. I also have to mention John Neretti from S6E23 What A Difference A Date Makes for being the best man in the series imho.

4. Character you most relate to?

Dorothy! My personality nowadays is a bit of a mix between Dorothy and Rose, I feel, but the Dorothy side is prevalent (and it was even more prevalent a few years back). I love reading and literature (and I enjoy learning about history, although I don't have her passion for it); I share her love for teaching (although I'm not a teacher); I was a great student in school, but not a popular kid at all; I'm level-headed and responsible, but I can be impulsive under the right circumstances; I'm very protective of the people I love; I'm Italian and was brought up a Catholic; I'm often the tallest girl in the room (I'm just a bit shorter than Bea Arthur was!) and I'm not attractive (not that Dorothy isn't -- but she is perceived as unattractive in the show), so I also understand her self-esteem issues fairly well.

I'm not as quick-witted as she is, unfortunately, and nowadays my outlook on life is more positive and easy-going than hers, but she's still the one I relate to the most.

5. Favourite character?

Blanche, although the other Girls are very, very close. I adore them all and I especially love to see them interact, but if I have to pick one, then it's Blanche. She's the one who surprised me the most! At the start of the show I kind of wrote her off as 'the man-crazy one', and that's as far removed from me as possible, so I didn't really focus much on her at the beginning. Then came S1E4 The Transplant, and then came her family issues, and then came all her memories of George, and before I knew it I was head-over-heels in love with her. Rue was masterful in how subtly she played her; she showed Blanche's depth as a character little by little, letting the audience peek behind the mask only for moments at a time, so when I realized I hadn't given her the attention she deserved, I was already in too deep.

6. Favourite story of a cast member?

Oh, so many good ones to choose from! The first one that comes to mind is Bea's anecdote about the time she was Tallulah Bankhead's understudy. The awe with which she describes her coming down the stairs is palpable -- but I mostly admire how she took Bankhead's mean comment and turned it into motivation. And Bea did get her 'coming down the stairs to thunderous applause' moment (more than once!), so her vow came true!

A fun one that involves all four main actresses is this blooper related to Blanche's Christmas gift to the girls, the 'The Men Of Blanche's Boudoir' calendar. Watching all of them lose their marbles over this prank is priceless -- it always puts a big smile on my face!

(Is this what you meant by this question? I wasn't sure!)

7. Which was the episode that got you hooked?

The pilot, lmao. It might be a cheesy answer, but it's true! I was immediately hooked from S1E1 scene one. Dorothy's incredible entrance got me.

8. You could wear one girl’s wardrobe for the rest of your life, who would you pick?

It's a toss-up between Blanche's and Dorothy's.

9. How many kids do you think they all actually had?

... this ask made me realize there are doubts about this, lmao. I've never done the math! Had to go check on wikipedia 😂

As far as I can tell, it's fairly set in stone that Rose had five children, of which we meet two (Kirsten, with two different faces 😂, and Brigit, who I assume is her youngest one).

It also seems reasonably certain that Dorothy had two kids -- Kate and Michael. I will say I've always thought Kate was much younger than she should have been in her appearances on the show, considering Dorothy was pregnant with her when she married, but maybe she just looked much younger than she actually was, I don't know.

Blanche is more complicated. We see both of her daughters, Janet and Rebecca, and in S3E3 Bringing Up Baby she mentions three sons, Matthew (also known as 'Skippy'), Doug, and Biff. In that same episode, though, she also says she's had four kids! I get where the disconnect comes from, haha. To be precise, her quote is:

"I have had four kids, I have never had a Mercedes."

This is just off the top of my head, but I wonder if she means 'I have had' in the sense of 'I have given birth to' here? This would imply one of her children is actually adopted (which is very interesting to think about!!). Since she directly mentions her three sons after this quote, I suppose our suspects are Janet and Becky. I'll have to give this some more thought, though -- for now my answer is that Blanche has five kids, and that 'four' is a continuity error on the writers' part.

10. Do you think the actresses would’ve gotten along with their characters if they met in real life? Why/Why not?

Interesting question! I think so, yes.

Dorothy and Bea seem fairly similar already -- as far as I know Bea was a big sweetheart, a private, gentle person, and Dorothy's a big sweetheart too. Plus I feel like Dorothy would have been respectful of Bea's introverted nature, and Bea would have been understanding and accepting of Dorothy's personal history (not to mention, she wouldn't have mocked her for not dating/for her appearance).

In all the interviews I've seen, Estelle seems very respectful and very fond of old people in general -- I think she'd find Sophia a riot! I seem to remember a clip in which she actually says she likes Sophia, so I feel pretty secure in stating they'd get along.

There's this famous quote by Rue in which she essentially says that she's similar to Blanche in everything but the fact that she's not from Atlanta 😂 so I feel justified in assuming they would have had fun with each other! Rue's stated that she felt an immediate connection to Blanche as a character, and that playing Blanche helped her gain more self-esteem and confidence, so I think meeting her in person would have had a similar effect! And Rue (being a very open, honest, compassionate person) might have helped Blanche drop her mask a little bit.

The only one I have an inkling of doubt about is Betty -- mostly because she'd run circles around Rose! But ultimately I think any 'mocking' would be gentle and affectionate, much like the Girls' jokes in the show. I think they would have liked each other -- and they could have bonded on their common love for animals alone!

11. What are your other comfort shows?

Apart from the aforementioned Good Omens, I'm also very fond of Only Murders In The Building, a really fun show about solving murders and found family that I wholeheartedly recommend. Derry Girls is another recent favourite. Oh, if you like cartoons too, I recommend Steven Universe, Hilda, and Avatar: The Last Airbender.

12. Headcanons? (Feel free to list as many as you’d like)

Oh, my god. I have so many and I'm for sure going to forget some. Let's see...

I've already said some time ago that in my mind Dorothy drives stick shift. Reasoning for this is that Italians (including yours truly, haha!) drive stick shift, and she's of Italian descent, so... she knows how to drive an automatic car, she just learned how to drive on a stick shift one (and in the streets of Brooklyn, no less!). Still on Dorothy: I think she has a very neat handwriting (she feels like the type of person who consciously decided to improve her handwriting at some point in her life), but she's prone to leaving ink stains on the page (and on her hands!!), especially when she's writing in a hurry.

Rose is really strong! Physically strong, I mean. I know she was a housewife for most of her life, but she was a farm girl first! Farming takes a lot of physical resilience, and that's the kind of strength that stays with you, I think. She's the one who lifts up the furniture when they clean (S2E12 The Sisters), and I don't think they'd let her do that if she couldn't handle it. Plus, remember that time she broke a whole ceramic cup with one bare hand (in S7E19 A Midwinter Night's Dream)? Yeah. I also subscribe to some mutuals' hc that she's autistic (although they'll be able to comment on it much better than I can, if they want to!).

Regarding Blanche, I really enjoy @\eeblouissant's hc that she has a permanent tan! She's from the South, she's lived near the coast for ages, *and* she's expressed an appreciation for sunbathing in the show, so it makes perfect sense to me. Also: she's a cover hog! In the show Rose is the one who admits to stealing the covers (in S2E5 Isn't It Romantic?, iirc), but I like to think Blanche is the worst offender. It's a good way to complete the Girls' trifecta of sleeping annoyances (Dorothy snores, Rose sleeptalks, Blanche steals the covers!), and I think it's thematically appropriate for her -- considering her Southern origin, I think she's more sensitive to the cold than Dorothy and Rose are, and she's always looking for affection, so...

Oh, regarding their sexuality: I don't have a marked preference for any of them, but I tend to think of Blanche as a bisexual with a lot of internalized homophobia. Rose is also bi, and somewhere on the asexual spectrum (and I have textual evidence for this!). @\hecatesbroom has completely convinced me to read Dorothy as a repressed lesbian, but I'm fine with people considering her bisexual too. I prefer queer interpretations of all of them, but I'm honestly fine with any take, as long as the strong (platonic or romantic) bond between them is preserved.

Most of my headcanons on Sophia are just traits borrowed from my grandmothers -- for example, I like to think that she started getting into gardening once she moved in with the Girls, and she's really gifted at it (like my grandma!).

13. What would you change (if anything) about the show/ characters if it was set in the modern day?

This is a really hard question to answer properly, because while the show is still very relevant to the present day, some aspects are so grounded in their time that a lot of things don't make as much sense when transposed into the future. For example -- would Dorothy end up marrying Stanley and staying married to him for 38 years if he'd gotten her pregnant in the 90s? Single mothers weren't exactly celebrated back then either (Madonna's Papa Don't Preach is from 1986), but they still had it much better than they did back in the 40s-50s -- and divorce has become much more accessible (and socially acceptable) in the past few decades. Would she have left him earlier? Would she have married him at all?

And what about Sophia? Being an Italian immigrant in the 50s seems different from being an Italian immigrant in the 20s -- there was a whole World War between the two, for starters. Would she still emigrate to the US? Would she even emigrate at all? How would she have survived the fascist regime in Italy?

Blanche and Rose are perhaps less grounded in their time. St Olaf is so absurd it might as well be the exact same in the present day (and dying in childbirth is unfortunately still too common, so it's not strange to think that Rose would be an orphan in any case), and considering how some people still think and behave nowadays, Blanche's biography and opinions seem plausible even when transposed 30-40 years into the future (at least to me). But still -- many of the issues they deal with were grounded in their time. Take Rose's AIDS scare: would she react in the same way in the present day, knowing that care for HIV patients has progressed so much?

To be fair, apart from all these questions, all of the Girls are still plausible (and relatable) characters from a modern POV; but society has changed a lot in the past 30-40 years, and I think a groundbreaking, socially advanced show like Golden Girls would necessarily have to change as a consequence. It's just in the spirit of the show! The core idea of four women sharing a life is still a perfect premise, but the problems the Girls face, their careers, their economic stability, their ideas on love and relationships -- there's a lot that could be different when transposed to the present day! I feel like this question requires much more space, time, and analysis to be answered properly.

One thing I like to think is that at least some of the Girls might have been explicitly queer if the show was set in the present day! Which opens up a lot of avenues for plot-lines and relationships :)

14. Which other Fictional Characters would you like each one of the golden girls to meet?

I have a storyboard in my notes for a little comic in which the Girls travel to England and meet Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens, so them, definitely 😂

Also, the Derry Girls! Check out this great crossover fic on Ao3 -- the chaotic energy is just off the charts, I love it.

15. Who were your favourite duo?

Oh, I can't choose. Any duo within the Girls. Their 1:1 interactions are all amazing, there's no way I can pick just one. I love the bond between Dorothy and Sophia, I love Dorothy and Blanche's chemistry, I love how fun and silly Blanche and Rose get to be together, I love the ironclad trust between Dorothy and Rose, I love Blanche and Sophia's love-(fake) hate friendship, I love the way Sophia hides her immense affection for Rose under a veil of humour and the way Rose sees right through it. I could write an essay on each pair of them.

15. Who should’ve got more 1:1 screen time with each other?

I'm pretty happy with the amount of 1:1 time each pair of Girls got with each other, actually! One of the strengths of the show imho is how well-balanced the interactions between the main cast are. If I really have to nitpick, I think I might have liked a couple of episodes specifically on Dorothy and Rose in the last couple of seasons; it feels like they interacted 1:1 less after S5, but that might just be me.

I also think the Girls' interactions with secondary characters and guests were well-balanced, in general; I can't think of any specific example where I wished for one of the Girls to have more interactions with a certain character.

... okay, there is one instance, but it's not really a matter of screen time, more of what happened during said screen time. I really, really wanted to see Blanche (with Rose as support) tear into Stan. I think we deserved a scene where she tells him off for the way he treats Dorothy -- she's already pretty caustic in the show when it comes to him (except in S6, for some reason...), and a proper confrontation would have been glorious.

16. Calmest season?

Is there one? 😂 the first season, I guess? It feels a bit more 'domestic' and contained in scope, likely because it was the first -- but it's still a wild ride!!

17. Most chaotic season?

Season 3, for sure. It's a bit all over the place, and it contains some of the wildest premises in the whole series -- I mean, Bringing Up Baby? Letter to Gorbachev? Mister Terrific? I could go on -- there's lots of chaotic episodes in there! (Just to be clear: I love the chaos! S3 is not my favourite season, but it's still great -- and it's got some amazing episodes!)

18. Favorite Season?

I think the honour goes to season 5! It would probably be S6, if not for the whole 'Dorothy falls back in love with Stan' plot line. S7 is the one that contains the highest count of favourite episodes for me, but I think S5 is stronger as a whole, and it's got some true gems.

19. If the girls hadn’t had their established careers, what other ones could you picture them doing?

Oh, let's see! Stan mentions Dorothy always wanted to open an antique shop back in S1E11 The Return of Dorothy's Ex, and I think that really fits her. I can also see her as a (very passionate) librarian! And, of course, she'd be great as a college professor / history researcher.

Despite the Girls' lack of confidence in her ability to keep things alive, I think with proper training Rose would work well as a nurse. She already volunteers for the hospital, she can be competent when given the chance, she's a giving person, and she loves taking care of people, so I think she at least has the right attitude for it -- although I'd never place her in a stressful unit, especially at the start of the show! Apart from this, anything to do with animals, of course -- a zoo, a farm, a pet shop, she'd excel in all of them!

I can see Blanche thriving as a trophy wife, haha 😂 but that's not properly a career, so it's not a valid answer. Taking her keen artistic eye into account, I think she'd be great as a designer -- either a fashion designer, or an interior decorator. She also showed some talent and interest in psychology during the series, although I'm not sure she'd manage to remain completely professional as a psychologist. 😅

As for Sophia, I think she'd do well in any position that allows her to be a motivator! She's great at encouraging people through a bit of tough love, and she's a very driven person herself -- so I think she'd do well as a manager of sorts, although the kind of manager that still works hands-on too. I believe she'd manage to hold her own in more or less any field; she's very adaptable! I do think she's at her best in a kitchen, though.

20. Best aspects of the show in your opinion?

There's a lot! The writing, the performances, the costume department, it was all exceptional. I think the best aspect to me is the premise, and how seriously they took it! The idea of a show centered on four older women living together is groundbreaking, especially since it didn't make a mockery of them -- the Girls are serious, well-rounded characters, with full lives, written with lots of love and respect. I think this show really convinced me that life isn't over once you hit 30, and that there's plenty to look forward to as you age! A lot of people my age are terrified of growing older, and here I am, eager to see what's coming next -- and I owe at least some of this attitude to this show. I'm really grateful!

21. (This question is for my fellow cheesecake lovers) favourite cheesecake flavour?

:) Great question! I love cheesecakes in general, but I'm especially partial to raspberry cheesecakes.

22. Storyline you wished they had expanded upon?

The show has an unfortunate tendency to introduce characters and then forget about them, which allowed for more variety in the stories they chose to tell, but I would have liked to see some of the Girls' relatives and friends return! Like, I don't know -- Jean, for example, or Blanche's nephew from back in S1. Some of the guests' arcs are complete within their episode (as happens eg for Lily, Rose's sister), but others remained a bit 'in the air', and I think it would have been nice to see them again.

Oh, and also -- I would have liked some little references to the Girls' issues and problems outside of the episodes they're tackled in! References to Blanche's pacemaker, for example, or to Rose's addiction, or to Dorothy's CFS (or her hearing aid!!). I understand that the time was limited, but even a small callback or two would have been nice!

23. Questions you’d ask the actresses?

Does 'will you marry me' count? 😭

I'm not sure -- knowing me, I'd probably be unable to utter a word in their presence! Rather than ask questions, I think I'd just thank them for bringing such an incredible, wonderful show to life. It wouldn't have been the same without them.

24. Episode that brings you the most comfort?

Most of them, really. Even the sad ones; I hear the first few notes of the opening theme and my spirits are already lifted. I can pick one per season, if that's alright:

S1E25 The Way We Met

S2E17 Bedtime Story

S3E3 Bringing Up Baby

S4E4 Yokel Hero

S5E23 The Mangiacavallo Curse Makes a Lousy Wedding Present

S6E26 Henny Penny -- Straight, No Chaser

S7E23/24 Home Again, Rose

But honestly there's so many more I could mention! I just love these ladies so much and I love to watch them in situations, haha.

25. Episode that made you laugh the hardest?

This is a cruel choice! Golden Girls is infamous in my house as 'the show that makes the-eclectic-wonderer howl with laughter', and I think that speaks for itself 😂

Let me pick at least three: S2E4 It's a Miserable Life, S7E2 The Case of the Libertine Belle, and S7E4 That's For Me To Know.

26. Which other work that the actresses did you enjoy the most?

I believe most of Estelle's career prior to The Golden Girls was in the theater, so I'm not sure it's even possible to watch her other works, unfortunately.

Show me Bea Arthur singing literally anything and I will be on my knees in seconds. Her musical performances are peak. Also -- I still haven't watched Maude, but I already know I'll love it.

Maude includes Rue as well -- I cannot wait to fall in love with her as Vivian too! And I have one of her early movies in my watch list, although I'm waiting for the right moment to watch it (homegirl plays a stripper and I'm not sure I can handle it in company without making a fool of myself, considering my big gay crush on her).

As for Betty -- Life With Elizabeth, absolutely. She's so funny and so beautiful and so captivating in it! She's simply charming, I love her to bits.

27. Best St Olaf Story?

The Great Herring War from S1E25 The Way We Met, no question. It's not necessarily the strongest from a comedy point of view (although it's certainly up there -- it's hilarious!), but the context and the way Dorothy and Blanche contribute to it make it the most memorable one, imho. It's my favourite, for sure.

(The story of Gunilla Bjorndunker, St Olaf's tallest woman, as told in S6E3 If At Last You Do Succeed is in second place).

28. Best slut story?

It changes every time I hear one, lmao! I love all of Blanche's stories!

If I must pick one -- I really enjoy Blanche's retelling of that time she realized she was even more devastating by moonlight in S1E25 The Way We Met, if only for that incredible final line ("It was at that moment I realized my bosoms had the power to make music!"). I'm not sure if it counts, because it's so brief, but her involuntary remembrance of that time she had to call a cab to get home because the sailor she hooked up with wouldn't wake up (S2E17 Bedtime Story) always has me in stitches -- I love how unexpected and effective it is!

Oh, and I'm really fond of the one she tells her mama in S3E25 Mother's Day. I'm very sensitive to the theme of loved ones getting older and having trouble remembering stuff, so that whole flashback hits close to home for me, and I love how Blanche's story helps her and her mama connect over shared memories. It's really touching (and Rue's acting is spectacular).

29. Best Sicily story?

Sophia's alleged encounter with Pablo Picasso, as narrated in S6E24 Never Yell Fire In A Crowded Retirement Home: Part 1. I somehow didn't anticipate the punchline, and I lost my shit when Sophia name-dropped Picasso. I still lose my shit every time I listen to it. It's a classic.

30. Which girl would you be most interested in seeing a prequel of? And at which point in their life?

I would pay dearly for a young!Dorothy show. It might be depressing (because her life with Stan was... well... yikes) but also imagine -- Dorothy learning how to be a mom, her life at college, building herself a life... so many possibilities!!! And it would be even better if it featured some flashbacks to Sophia's life in Sicily!

I would enjoy a show about teenage Blanche's adventures, too, but a part of me thinks those stories are at their best when retold by Blanche herself (ie when there's a good amount of doubt as to their veracity, lmao).

[luv-again]

the fact that this piece isn't actually made for me, it's intended for someone else and i'm just making it the most self-serving piece of media ever ;-;