#i was thinking about his line ‘see there’s no monsters in the closet. Well now there is but I’m not gonna scare you I’m off duty 😃’

[james-p-sullivan]

ive put a ridiculous amount of monsters inc gifs in the queue

if there’s any specific scenes you guys can think of let me know!

[insanelyadd]

I was a firm Papyrus knight truther and still have a hint of hope but I feel like so much doesn't fit from the new chapters :(

We DID get to see the ribcage of the knight and Papyrus is absent now that the knight is active— two things that help the case.

But the knight seems cold. I can't see Papyrus running away, refusing to speak, and the line on the phone— that's the knight, right? Not only is it not like his speech but Carol comes home soon after the voice says they'll arrive.

But if he's not the knight that's even more confusing??? Idk. What do you think about all this?

No the voice on the phone is definitely Carol (confirmed in snowgrave), but the phone person is not For Sure the Knight. The Knight never speaks at all (perhaps because of a notorious font). There's another thing, where "you" (Kris) don't watch Susie in chapter 4 and you get this dialog instead:

Which like. If the Knight was meant to be confirmed without a doubt to be one (or only one of two) people, then there's no need to maintain the mystery. In universe this makes sense because Kris is obviously hiding things from us, but out of universe, there is no reason for Toby to write the line like this unless the implication is that the Knight is not so obvious.

I DO think Dess has to be involved with the Knight, and I DO think Carol is also doing something shady, but I also have a new theory. So if you'll excuse me real quick-

So basically, a Holiday has to be strongly Connected to the Knight, because while I don't think the Knight's identity is so clear cut as everyone makes it out to be (ah, memories of immediately after chapter 2) I also think Toby wouldn't pull a cheap ass move like giving the Knight antlers, a baseball bat looking sword, and when they dodge, the ball they turn into vaguely resembles a baseball, and then NOT make the Knight have a strong connection to Dess somehow, or to be Dess. But that's the thing.

The Knight's appearance is fucked up and unnatural, even darkner's bodies could be easily mistaken as normal monsters, but the Knight is so much more horrifying in appearance, there is something WRONG with it. If someone saw that walking around town, they would be right to freak out and call the police. But if in the light world the Knight is Just Dess then. Well. People in town will recognize her, and freak out and call the police. Again. So in the Light World the Knight can't look anything like Dess and they can't look anything like The Knight.

I would also like to point out that if the Knight didn't have antlers do you know who people would INSTEAD say is now Totally Confirmed?

A related thing to this overarching tirade of madness is how multiple times, characters warn you not to stay in Darkworlds overnight. What happens to lightners if they stay in the dark for too long? Why is it a concern to have?

What is the danger?

It's likely that Dess got stuck in a darkworld, because I believe the person speaking to us in the code-

[Credit to autisriel on twitter]

Is Dess. The dialog in the third image especially, builds onto my theory. That there's a dark world in the bunker, but it works like Ralsei's dark world. You walk into a dark room and the door slams behind you, sending you into the darkworld when before it behaved almost like a normal room that was just impossibly dark. I think that Ralsei's world functions different from the other dark worlds, even beyond everyone from the other worlds being able to safely exist there, where the world will selectively allow lightners in. Because there's no way in hell that Toriel, Alphys, or the school custodian haven't needed to enter that closet since that fountain was made (whenever that was, and btw I don't think the Knight made Ralsei's fountain, I think he would have mentioned it).

My theory is that another force entirely (probably Gaster since this whole world seems to be some sort of project that he fucking around with with our assistance) made a fountain in the bunker and in the supply closet which is why they behave so oddly. Dess went into the bunker (maybe she ran away? This ties into a point I'll have further in) and the door slammed behind her, she was transported into a darkworld that would accept no further visitors, which is why no one ever found her.

I think the warnings against staying in the dark worlds for too long are because when you stay there, your body starts to change, you're still a lightner but you begin to become a darkner in a way. I think Dess' body dissipated/transformed/transmuted her consciousness into an object, likely one she took with her, probably baseball related, and Papyrus also entered the bunker (maybe he learned the code, maybe he was told, maybe the door mysteriously opened for him) and found that object, which he now has equipped like how you can equip Jevil and Spamton. Dess' body has been (possibly permanently) altered by being in the dark world, and her and Papyrus are working in conjunction with each other as the Knight. There is not multiple Knights, just one Knight, but the Knight is two people.

In chapter 4 I saw people discussing Kris' reaction to the end of the chapter, how they come home to find Toriel drunk and dancing with Sans (who is probably also drunk). Some people take Kris' reaction to be one that indicates that this is potentially commonplace while also mentioning how it's odd that Toriel didn't seem concerned that Kris didn't come home until late, and they most certainly would not be reachable by phone, and her lack of acknowledgement that she couldn't reach them means she didn't even try to.

I also have to point out now that in chapter 4 you don't even get to ask Sans about his mystery brother, and he doesn't voluntarily bring him up either. This is in addition to the fact that, as you said, after we see the Knight for the first time, we can't even HEAR Papyrus in his house anymore. We see Sans outside every single day and we haven't seen Papyrus once, haven't even heard his voice, and Sans brings him up less and less. This is a large contrast to UT where Sans is very focused on getting the human to befriend his brother, and talks about him a lot.

I feel like at this point there's too much evidence to deny that Sans and Papyrus Undertale are actually Sans and Papyrus Deltarune. There was a lot of implications through the total void of Papyrus' life before coming to Snowdin, and the weird shit Sans says about never being able to go back, but that was all contained to UT. Now we have the companion song for "It's Raining Somewhere Else", a companion song that sounds almost exactly the same (but it is different) named "The Place Where It Rained". Now there are connections on both sides.

My point with bringing this up, is maybe in UT Sans feels like he failed Papyrus by not trying harder for him in DR. I think we're watching this arc play out in real time. And I must once more reiterate that since it seems to be true that the skelebros are from DR, then there HAS to be a reason why that it only happens to them. Something BIG is going to happen and they're going to be at the epicenter of it, and they will face exile on the cosmic scale for it.

So Papyrus is home alone all day long, likely being tasked with unpacking everything by himself, because Sans has a Job. Sans can tell Papyrus is lonely, that's why he asks Someone to try to hang out with him, but Sans is also not putting in as much effort as he should, which is why he asked a child to hang out with his adult brother, and why he hasn't really asked to again in a follow up. Maybe Sans just doesn't know how to approach what Papyrus is dealing with.

Bringing it back around to the familial structures we look at in chapter 4, we meet Carol. Possibly Carol, still no direct confirmation I don't think? My #1 pick for an alternate name for her is Cupid because:

Irony

The heart pillows? What's up with that, that's Valentine's not Christmas

Cupid is one of Santa's reindeer so even though the connection is stronger to a different holiday there is still a connection to Christmas

Carol is very cold and hostile and I think is so OBVIOUSLY manipulating Kris, and IMO I think she's abusive to Noelle, like emotionally and verbally at the least. Normal kids with parents who are just strict but still loving don't freak the fuck out and shut down like people are going to get seriously harmed when their parent shows up back at home when they weren't expecting it. Noelle is afraid to ask her mom for the spare key to their house so she just stands outside, locked out. I think a strict but loving parent would rather be bothered at work than allow their ONLY REMAINING CHILD to just be STUCK OUTSIDE ALL DAY. The fact that Noelle prefers waiting for her mom to be done at work, which is likely late into the evening, to going to get a spare key from her, tells us that her MOM also prefers it this way. The reaction is less severe. It's Better that she stands outside the front gate of her own home and wait until it gets dark out by herself.

I would find it harder to say more straightforwardly that what Sans is doing to Papyrus is abusive. I maintain it is consistent across both games for Sans to be pretty emotionally closed off from people. He's good at reading the room, but that doesn't mean he has a magical solution to all of your social problems and it doesn't mean he wants to talk about feelings, he appears to have a very low tolerance for awkward encounters and vulnerability. And I additionally think that Toriel isn't abusive towards Kris. Kris probably is very uncomfortable with Toriel drinking, especially the way she doesn't show concern for where they were, especially how she seems to be perfectly happy being distracted by bringing a strange man into their home (this is something Kris and I have in common with our mothers while we were in high school).

I think the theme in this chapter is how Family is so important to young people, young people who are lonely like Papyrus, young people who might not have many friends like Kris up until recently, young people who don't have many people they can be completely open with, like Noelle. And it's also about how sometimes even when you Need your family, you need them to be there for you, to protect you, to look out for you, to worry about you, they fail to be enough, to be what you need.

Dess might have tried to run away, even if it was only temporary in her mind, and ends up trapped. Maybe Papyrus got fed up and needed to get out of the house for a bit. He ended up in the bunker, he meets Dess there. Dess isn't able to exist in the light world like how she used to by this point. They talk and feel like they have things in common, Dess tells Papyrus about dark worlds, possibly gaining knowledge the same way Ralsei has gotten his knowledge. And together they become the Knight.

I'm still working on this theory tbh. This is only the beginning, before I've gotten a chance to watch videos going over secrets in these last two chapters, which I need to do because my play style with DR is very sloppy, I'm just awful at finding secrets. I didn't know about ANY of the secret areas in chapter 3 before I saw one video going over them. Needless to say, the theory will improve as I learn more. So this is a rough draft.

[johnwickb1tsch]

lessons in anatomy XIII

a yandere art professor John Wick x drawing model muse! reader AU... (also featuring Matt from River's Edge. If you haven't seen the movie that's ok, I will fill in the gaps as we go...) warnings: dark adult themes, violence, sex, drugs, yandere shit. plz don't read if u can't handle it ->chapter map

XIII.

-You thought you’d done a good job talking yourself up to it, but you are so embarrassed, when you get up on the model stand, and it's time to start class…and you simply can't do it. You freeze, absolutely unable to bring yourself to take off your robe, to expose yourself again after your near brush with…whatever the fuck those creeps intended to do with you. 

“I…”

You don't even know where to begin to explain. You wait for John to say something cutting or sarcastic. To be a jerk about it, annoyed that you're stalling his class.

You watch warily as he approaches the model stand, hands in his pockets, the very picture of the brooding artist. Yet when he looks up at you…there’s an empathy in his dark eyes that squeezes your heart with a fist. He could have pushed you over with a feather when he asks, “Are you alright, y/n?”

Sadly, you shake your head, hugging yourself. “I’m…not sure I can do this right now. I'm so sorry.” You sway on your feet, and he must sense something wild inside you, a mare threatening to bolt, or a statue ready to tumble, because he holds up his hands as though to steady you–those large, eloquent hands with their impossibly long fingers.

You don’t know what possesses you, when you take his fingers in yours, holding on to him like he is a life line. They’re strong, and calloused, and for the first time since waking up after your mishap you feel somewhat anchored to the world around you. 

He lets you hold on to him, his expression softening for you the way it used to, before you had your heated little tiff over Matt’s work. His voice is low, and calming, acting like a balm for your troubled soul. 

“That's ok, y/n. It's your choice. Do you maybe think you could sit for us with your robe on?”

You think about it a few moments before nodding. 

“Alright.” He squeezes your fingers encouragingly. “Let's do some warm ups, then we'll pick a pose.”

You nod, and somehow, this small gesture of support empowers you again to do your thing. 

- You're not sure how he knew you needed it, but in the end you decide on a reclining pose. John produces blankets and pillows from the closet to make you a comfortable nest on the otherwise hard model stand, and you hate to admit it, but…you fall asleep. 

You haven't been sleeping well, and something about being here in this place you love, rather than your cold and lonely apartment fulfills something you've been missing the past few weeks. 

By some miracle, as though even your sleeping brain knows, you do not move from your position even in slumber. It takes a gentle hand upon your ankle to rouse you,  and you wake with a start to find John standing over you. 

The room is empty of students; through the windows you can see that night has fallen outside. Fuck.

“I'm so sorry,” you immediately apologize, bolting up right. The class ends at six. How much longer did you keep him here?

“It’s ok,” he says in his soothing baritone. “Are you…ok, y/n?”

You look at him looking at you so earnestly with those infinite dark eyes–it ties you up in knots, and you feel like you can't hide a thing from him. Like…he already knows, and just wants to give you an outlet to talk about it, if you want. 

“Something …bad happened at the Monster Masque,” you admit in a whisper, looking fixedly at the corner of your blanket beneath you. “I've just…felt weird, ever since.” 

His frown is like a thunderhead, forbidding and beautiful. “Do you need help, y/n?”

You shake your head. “No. I think…the matter is closed.”

“Oh?”

“I think…someone took care of it for me.”

“Who?”

“I…don't know. Maybe someone I met at the ball. I think…” You look to him, drowning, and you can't help but compare his stare to the black satin shine of your Lone Wolf’s eyes. Dear lord, do you have a type. “I think he saved me.” 

John lifts a single dark brow to this. “Sounds like you have a guardian angel, y/n.” 

A shaky little laugh escapes you. “Yeah.” You think that guardian demon might be more likely, but you don’t say it aloud. 

When you dismount from the modeling stand the concrete floor is shockingly hard and cold beneath your feet; your leg tingles with pins and needles, having fallen asleep. You take a step and would have stumbled–-but John catches you, holding you in his strong arms. 

You swear you didn’t do it on purpose, but you find it’s a very nice place to be. There is something hauntingly familiar about being held like this, tucked against his chest with his arms around you. You look up at him from so very close, and you realize something is different. 

“You cut off your beard,” you say, maybe with way more wonder in your voice than the observation actually warrants, but there's something about being able to see the sharp lines of his jaw that moves you to your toes. 

“I trimmed a little.” He doesn't scold you for staring at him like a star struck idiot. He seems…content, to stand like this with you, while you are reeling in this bottomless freefall into deja-vu.

He has a distractingly beautiful mouth, lips full and infuriatingly kissable. You cannot tear your eyes from the lower half of his face; the sum total of its lines strum some forgotten chord inside you.

Is it possible?

Your memory is so fractured from that night. Nothing is clear amidst the bits and pieces that remain to you. The gaps are large as a canyon in your mind, yawning fissures in the landscape of your memory. Whatever those boys drugged you with…it really fucked you up, and just thinking about it makes you want to hide under John Wick’s chin and not come out for a week. 

You decide that you are wishfully projecting your hopes onto this man. That he had much better things to be doing on Halloween, than masquerading around in an animal costume just to flirt with you. 

“Have you been eating, y/n?” he asks, squeezing your sides gently. You suppose he remembers how much padding you had from the last time you were in his hands. The memory of that lightning-charged squabble compared to how he handles you now makes you weak all over again. 

You shrug, embarrassed for some reason. “Not…well.” 

He nods, because he already knew the answer. “Come home for dinner with me.”

“I…would hate to bother you.” Deep down you want to say yes, and yet you cannot shake the dogged mantle of your hesitance. 

“No bother. I think it would be good for you.” 

He's being polite, yet there is a firm insistence in his tone that leaves no further room for argument.

“Okay.” You manage to keep the tremor out of your voice as you agree, and you decide to give yourself a point for bravery. Your score’s been running in the negatives lately, and maybe this will be good for you.

Or maybe you'll ruin it, the way you ruin everything, eventually.

TBC...

___

->chapter map pinterest board/ photo credits

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

can i please please please please have a reader/(y/n) running into the main papyri for the first time?

like walk in down the street and the skeleton boi walks into us, reader stumbles and stares up at them mouth agape for a solid five seconds before lighting up and say “so.. so cool!”

i just need the boys to know just how cool they are 😔💀

i hope you have an extra awesome day 😎

Undertale Papyrus - He immediately tries to catch you as you fall forward. You stay a solid two minutes just... staring into the other eyes. Uh. Papyrus blushes for some reason, and then you say he's cool, and now he's even more a mess. How did that even happen? He says you're cool too, and then leaves, the face entirely red. A little part of him hopes to see you again and he even feels bad once back home. He didn't even ask your name. Sans is confused why he's so agitated.

Underswap Papyrus - Uh... What did you just say? Honey was about to apologize for bumping into you and now he's completely speechless, mind entirely blank. He just stares at you and randomly says "I'm a skeleton" before blushing to hell when he realizes he just said something stupid. He blips in thin air, so embarrassed. Blue jumps as he just hears Honey muffles scream in his pillow out of nowhere. Honey is troubled.

Underfell Papyrus - He gives you a dark stare as you bump into him, this close to screaming at you to watch where you're going. But then you say he's cool and he's completely disconcerted. ... What? He takes him a good minute to grow back his angry face. W-Well yes! Of course, he's cool! Because monsters are cool, unlike random humans bumping into strangers! And then he leaves, swaggering, very proud of his line. He's so disturbed as he keeps thinking about this though.

Horrortale Papyrus - He's panicking, scared he might have hurt you, and apologizing again and again. Then you just said he's cool. Willow tells you that's alright, he understands if you want to call the pol... Wait, what. He blinks in complete confusion at you, staring at him with stars in the eyes??? Uh... Ok... He pats you on the head awkwardly and wishes you a good day. You catch him turning several times to stare at you as he leaves. That was weird. But nice. But very weird.

Swapfell Papyrus - Rus stares at you in confusion as you say he's cool. Uh. He's so disturbed he gives you his box of nuggets. And then he leaves, staring at you the whole time, as he faceplants right into a pole. You ask if he's alright, he shakes it off and finger guns at you, before teleporting away. Back home, he's cringing so hard. Finger guns, really? What the hell did he do that for? ... And he just realized he lost his nuggets too. Well, that was something.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He heard you say he's cool, but uh, he still looks behind him to see if you said that to someone else. Uh. No one. ... Wait, you're talking to him for real? His eyes widened with pure terror. He's not ready to talk to humans yet! No one told him humans could talk to him! As you ask if he's ok, he just starts to hyperventilate, and looks around for something to hug. Well, too bad you're the only thing available. He cling to you all of the sudden, making you flinch in surprise. He then blushes when he realizes what he's doing, apologizes in panic and disappears. He needs to hide in his closet to recover for a bit.

[souperbloom]

christmas wrapping. [A.I.]

🎁 boyfriend!Ashton x reader

with a busy year behind you and a new one around the corner, you decide to surprise your boyfriend with the greatest gift of all.

a/n: consider this my gift to you, soup nation. merry christmas and happy holidays from mama soup! this is also just a lil somethin to hold you guys over to the new year— lots of fun things happening!

this was rushed. def not proofread. be gentle with me as i am just a girl.

(this oneshot is a stand alone, but it’s set in the same universe as my fic ‘tangerine, tangerine’)

CONTENT WARNINGS: smut!, bratty!ashton, pet names, oral (m!receiving), bondage, festive innuendos, a sprinkle of christmas cheer, etc.

wordcount: ~4k

⋆❅*𖢔𐂂꙳

Christmas Eve.

Not a very special day, and not any more than the day that comes after it.

It was you and Ashton’s third holiday season together. A season spent buried in work, Ashton’s schedule packed tight with sound mixing and whacking the nights away on his drums.

But Christmas Eve, despite its mundane nature in the shared home with your boyfriend, was kind of special. It was the only day of that entire week where the two of you were able to sit at home and just enjoy each other’s company.

“How many cups of chocolate chips are we talkin’ here? One? Three? Seven?”

Although Christmas wasn’t inherently celebrated in your relationship, both you and Ashton tried your very best to be festive in any way you could. You’d just spent all morning wrapping red and silver garlands around the bannister of the staircase and thumb-tacking ornaments to the wall, while Ashton was on his third batch of cookies. After snickerdoodle and peanut butter, he’d finally made it to chocolate chip.

“Put as many chocolate chips as your heart desires.”

After practically breaking your neck trying to line the top of your living room ceiling with Christmas lights, you’d made the executive decision to take a break on the couch while Ashton slaved away by the oven. He’d been there since noon, it was well past four now, and giving up or taking any sort of break clearly wasn’t in the cards for him.

“I can’t make that decision, baby. You’re the Cookie Monster of this house,” he calls over his shoulder, bending down to make sure the oven was still warm.

“Put two. Call it even. How many cookies are in this batch anyway?”

“Two dozen. That’s what the recipe says.”

You could practically hear him shrug from all the way in the kitchen. But you just smiled, partially watching the digital fireplace that Ashton put on the TV. He claimed the smooth Christmas jazz and crackling of wood would set the mood— but little did he know. You had other plans to set the mood.

Gifts were never expected on you and Ashton’s Christmas morning. Neither was any semblance of Christmas spirit. The two of you always just woke up and carried on your day as if it were any other. But this year in particular was a rough one, and you figured your favorite boy deserved some extra holiday cheer for all of the work he’s been putting in.

You came across this little idea when you found an old pair of lingerie sitting in a box at the back of your closet, Ashton had gifted it to you on your first anniversary— it was a red matching set with a sheer tulle slip. You were never presented with the opportunity to wear it, but the feathered trimming on the slip and rhinestone bow smack between the bra cups was just the right amount of festive for the precedent set on Christmas Eve.

Thinking all day about surprising him was what got you motivated enough to deck out your living room in Christmas decor. You couldn’t contain your smile when Ashton offered to bake cookies, since you knew he’d be too distracted to notice if you slipped away for a moment.

The Kitchen Aid began to whir, and you tilt your head to see Ashton whistling to himself as he spins the bowl of dough with ease. You took this moment as your perfect opportunity to sneak away upstairs to the bedroom.

He definitely didn’t notice you had left; he was far too engulfed with getting his cookie dough to the perfect consistency. You felt your heart patter as you reached for the box under the bed, all while the mixer was still working and Ashton was still whistling without a clue.

The lingerie was in pristine condition after all these years— and changing into it made you feel like a million bucks. It was flattering, the way the tulle fell just above your hips and left the red lace panties barely exposed. Once adjusted, you grinned to yourself in the mirror while smoothing out the feathers and scurried into the bathroom for your next surprise.

You found your next hiding spot untouched, thank God, and pulled out the ream of satin ribbon that you left in your bathroom drawer. The ribbon was a last minute idea that dawned on you during a trip to your local craft store.

The ribbon was sturdy, which was perfect for the circumstance. Hell, it was sturdy enough to hold the shape of a perfectly knotted bow on its own— you took the liberty of tying to a lock of your hair at the top of your head to add a bit of pizazz.

If anyone couldn’t tell by now, the gift Ashton wanted most for Christmas was you.

“Hey, baby? Can you come in here for a sec?”

Ashton calls out to you from downstairs in the kitchen, the mixer having stopped and started a few more times.

“What’s up?” You call back, frantically shutting all of your drawers and pushing the lingerie box back under the bed.

“Want you to come try the dough. Make sure the ‘chip ratio’ is to your liking.”

You stifle a giggle as Ashton turns the mixer back on, shutting off all the lights in your bedroom and starting to tiptoe towards the stairs.

“You in the bedroom?” Ashton shouts again, his back facing you as you’re already halfway down the steps.

“I’m comin’, I’m comin’.”

You eventually creep down the last step with chills running down your back in anticipation. You couldn’t believe that he still hasn’t turned around to see you all decked out in your holiday getup. It was honestly kind of funny, how determined he was to get these cookies just how you liked them.

“I think this should be fine. But— tell me what you think. Should I add cinnamon? God, I’ve been staring at cookies for so long… I think I’m starting to turn into one.”

You giggle again, audibly this time, and eventually creep your way behind him. You slither your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder.

“That looks perfect t’me,” you hum sweetly, drumming on his hips and admiring the picturesque bowl of dough.

Ashton laughs at your mellow comment, his body shaking as he disassembles the mixer.

“I want you to try it— but don’t eat too much. The raw eggs and shit, they’ll fuck you up.”

“Mmhm…”

Ashton moves fluidly, as if you weren’t even wrapped around his waist and holding him to your chest. You couldn’t believe how enraptured he was by these goddamn cookies.

You almost wanted to smack him.

“Ashton…” you mumble, an attempt to get his attention.

“Yes?”

Just then, you take a step away, releasing him from your arms and putting your hands on your hips.

“Turn around for God’s sake!”

Ashton freezes, dropping the mixer and wiping the remnants of flour off of his pants, “Sorry, sorry, I was just g— holy fuck.”

He had finally seen you. All decked out. Lace, tulle and all, wrapped up with a little red bow.

“Merry Christmas, baby.”

His eyes wasted no time in scanning every inch of your body, pupils dilated to maximum capacity as his hands had no clue what to touch first.

“Oh my God— you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous.”

“Mmmh, thank you,” you coo, melting into his palms as they eventually make it to your waist.

“This is my gift?” He asks, his eyes sparkling like the lights on your tiny Christmas tree.

“Not all of it.”

Ashton pulls you into his torso, hands roaming your sides and lifting the tulle slip in his path. He can’t believe how incredible you look— let alone in a set that he’s been wanting to see you in since he first bought it off the mannequin.

“You fuckin’ spoil me, y’know that? Shit— what’d I do to deserve this? Was I on the nice list? Jesus fuck, I’m spent.” His entire sentence comes out in one hurried jumble, working in tandem with the steps he was taking to walk you backwards into the living room.

“Just thought you deserved a little somethin’ after everything you’ve done this year.”

“Everything I’ve done? Baby,” he interrupts himself with a kiss to your collarbone, “this is the best gift I’ve gotten in years.”

A giggle escapes your throat as you push his eager lips away from their attachment to your neck, “I haven’t even shown you the rest of it yet!”

Soon enough, you have Ashton padding after you like a dog up the stairs, letting him chase you to the top of the staircase before barricading the bedroom door with your body. He frowns as you stop him from bursting through it, taking a hand to caress your waist.

“Baby—” he begins to protest as you anchor your hands to the moulding.

“Ah ah ah,” you tut, “not yet.”

“Why not? I wanna unwrap my gift.”

You chuckle at his childish attitude, lazily slinging your arms across his shoulders and giving him a cheeky smile.

“Patience is a virtue. I’ve got one more surprise left for you.”

Just then, you reach behind and open the door to your bedroom; it was dark, with the exception of the purple and blue lava lamp that backlit your sensual figure.

“Entry fee is one kiss from you, mister.”

Ashton’s lips curve into a sultry smile, still standing over you, “Just one? Why not a million?”

You just shrug, tapping your manicured fingers along the doorframe, “Inflation.”

He stoops down to press a gentle kiss onto your lips, taking a moment to savor the pomegranate flavored lip balm you’d smothered across them in a hurry. He hums into you, wanting to reach out and touch, but barring himself as per your request.

“I’ve paid my toll,” he wiggles his eyebrows.

“Don’t be smart.”

Ashton bounces on his heels as you step away from the door, guiding him into the dark room by the sway of your hips. You reach over to the nightstand and turn on the light to reveal your bed, intact from this morning, with just a single spool of ribbon nestled between your pillows.

Ashton stops at the doorway, scratching his head in confusion, “Our bed?”

“Mhm. Our bed.”

You then take a few steps, making sure to push your arms together and arch out your back as you reach for the red satin ribbon.

“I mean— I’m not complaining—”

“You shouldn’t. This is part of the surprise,” you say these words as if they meant nothing, twisting the ribbon between your fingers and starting to slowly unravel the tightly wound roll.

“You’re so elusive,” he tuts, stepping closer to the bed.

“I haven’t even given you instructions yet.”

Ashton raises his eyebrow, dipping his knee down onto the mattress. You could tell his eyes were still bugged out and wandering across your body.

“Instructions? Did my gift come with a manual?”

“Somethin’ like that,” you murmur, stepping around the bed to meet him, “you’ve been awfully good this year.”

“Have I?” Ashton asks, in complete awe of you. His body stiffens when you reach out to fiddle with the hem of his t-shirt.

“Mhmm, very. You’ve been working so hard all year. Must get tiresome, no?”

In a complete 180 switch, Ashton suddenly seems to know where this is headed. His face, once dawned in pure ignorant bliss, had learned a thing or two within the past few minutes.

“Wait.”

He had stopped his path towards the bed, eyeing you down as you continued to unravel the ribbon until it dropped onto the floor.

“What?”

“What are you trying to do right now?”

With the satin now wrapped into a make-shift spool across your knuckles, you shrug, “What do you mean?”

He shakes his head, slowly working backwards from the progress he’s made getting onto the mattress.

“Is this part of your little surprise? What’s the ribbon for?”

“Why are you asking me so many questions?”

Ashton crosses his arms, meeting you at your side of the bed, “Because I’m impatient.”

You scoff, “Well at least you’re aware of it.”

He shakes his head, stepping towards you and motioning to the ribbon as the smile on your face only makes him more impatient, “And how do you intend to use that?”

“Use what?”

“The ribbon.”

“Oh,” you hold out your hand, stepping closer to him and only leaving an inch between your bodies, “this?”

“Yeah, that.”

You could tell that Ashton was getting frustrated; the subtle way his jaw ticked each time you smart-mouthed one of his questions. Being elusive and condescending was Ashton’s job in the bedroom. It was one of the things you liked most about your dynamic between the sheets. He, however, didn’t seem to like the sudden role reversal.

But tonight, despite your presence being his present, you decided to go for the more self indulgent route.

Unfortunately, he didn’t have much of a choice.

“The purpose of the ribbon is for me to know, and for you to find out. Wanna lay down for me?”

He doesn’t even get the chance to retort before one soft push to his chest had him plopping down onto the bed. He stares up at you, a bit stunned, watching as you slip right between the perfectly sized slot between his legs.

“Fine. No more questions. But you mentioned instructions…?”

“Mhm. They’re very simple.”

“Hit me with ‘em.”

You smile, draping the ribbon around your neck in order to have both hands free.

“Take your shirt off.”

With his bottom lip now tucked between his teeth, he obliges, pulling off his white tee from the back and tossing it behind you. You take a moment to admire his smooth collarbones, still standing between his legs.

“I’m starting to like you from this angle, Ash,” you purr, taking that same hand you used to push him down to grapple his chin and force his gaze into your eyes.

“I’m indifferent.”

“Why’s that, hm?”

“Usually I’m the one barkin’ orders...”

Before he can explain himself any further, you grab at the ribbon and point to the headboard.

“Lay back. Arms up.”

“Are you about to tie me up?”

He asks this question as he slowly maneuvers to where you told him to, curiosity sparkling in his eyes yet still a fool to your soft, sultry tone.

Somehow, some way, despite the vehement pleading of his facial expressions and the desire to put up a fight, you’re straddling his hips, and he’s holding his arms up like you asked him to.

“Just lay back and look pretty.”

“Yeah? That’s what you want?” Ashton chuckles, “how the tables have turned…”

“I wish you’d stop being such a smartass,” you hum, reaching over him to tie his left wrist in place.

You wished you could’ve taken a picture of his face when the second bow was tied— his face was priceless. You loved how the bows keeping his wrists steady to the bedposts matched the one you’d tied into your hair, you loved how gorgeous he looked beneath you, completely at your disposal.

The way his eyes narrowed when you called him a smartass, it was obvious he was holding back a smile.

You were starting to think that he loved it too.

“Baby—” as Ashton whines, he tugs at your knots, causing your antique bed frame to creak and bang against the wall.

“Yes?” you reply, perching on his lap with an innocent smile.

He seems to have more to say, but all vices are lost as he seems to just give up, and sigh.

“—Oh— forget it. Do what you want. I’m yours.”

You break the tension with a kiss, pressing your lips against his and feeling his chest shudder as he breathes beneath you. It was obvious that he wasn’t accustomed to being restrained. Each time you rolled your hips against his flannel pajama pants there was a knocking at your wall, signifying the willpower he was exercising as to not uproot the bedposts from the floor.

You continue your slow trail, taking your time and peppering open-mouthed kisses along the side of his neck and down towards his chest.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby. How do you do this shit?” The frustration laced through his breathy voice made your stomach turn.

“What, stay tied up? It’s easy,” you hum, mid-kiss to his pec, “I just play by the rules.”

Ashton huffs, growing more and more antsy as your travels lead you towards the waistband of his pajama pants. His supple, gravelly moans were the only thing keeping you from tearing off his pants and having your way with him— because one thing that Ashton Irwin lacked in this life was patience.

And one thing you lacked in this life was the ability to deny yourself a good time.

“Baby, c’mon.” His hips jerk upward, along with his hands, his crotch hitting your clothed core in all of the correct places. But rather than visibly showing how much his fully hard dick had an effect on you, you just smile, and reach up to smoosh his lips together with your index finger.

“Stop pulling, you’ll break the bed.”

“It’s gettin’ really fuckin hard not to.”

“Hush. Don’t wanna hear another word from that mouth.”

Just then, you tap your cool fingertips along his pelvic bone, and watch as the goosebumps rise along his tanned stomach. Living in Los Angeles definitely had it’s perks.

“Yeah?” You can tell how hard he was trying to keep the status quo, but now your fingers were dancing beneath his waistband and causing him grief, “You–God, what have you done to me?”

A catty smile dances across your face, still enjoying how much he absolutely fucking hated not being the one in control.

“A Christmas miracle, maybe?” you tease, finally getting a start on pulling down his pants, “Lift those hips, pretty boy.”

With a disgruntled moan, he does as he’s told, his eyes locked in on your figure and tracing every single curve with his pupils.

You eventually free him from the confines of flannel, his cock springing out like it was being held captive. It was hard not to let your mouth water at just the sight of him; your old ways were awfully invasive.

“Mmmmh,” you hum at the way he twitches, his tip leaky and just begging to be touched.

“You’re fuckin’ murdering me with those eyes, baby.”

“That’s the point, silly. You always like to tell me how patient I am. Why not give you a taste of your own medicine?”

You reach out to hold his cock, antagonizing him by wrapping your fingers around him and remaining stagnant. He hisses at your gentle touch, the headboard knocking against the wall once more.

“God damnit— you gonna make me beg for it?”

“Maybe. That’d be fun,” you hum sweetly, starting a slow rhythm of pumping his cock while staring deeply into those honey green eyes.

“In your fuckin’ dreams, sweetheart.”

In order to hush those sweet lips of his, you take your tongue and drag a line up his shaft. He grunts, loudly, wrists now tinged with red to match his restraints and his incapability to sit still.

“Fuck you— you’re such a tease,” he mutters, his breathing picking up at merely the sigh of your lips near his cock.

“Fuck me? Isn’t that the goal?” you joke once more before dipping your head down to ever-so daintily suck on his tip.

Ashton then lets out a sound like you’d never heard before— it was loud, and beastial. You’d never thought you had it in you to make a grown man cry, and yet here you were, with your boyfriend's sanity at your fingertips.

“Y/N, baby, please… Take it all. God I’m— I’m dyin’ t’feel that fuckin’ mouth.”

With your lips still pursed around his tip, not giving him the full satisfaction just yet, you hum, sending vibrations from the hollows of your cheeks directly into his body. He jolts again, cursing and muttering at the feeling of satin setting fire to his wrists.

His sounds alone have you enthralled by this whole scenario. Hell, you couldn’t believe you didn’t think of this sooner. Tying Ashton up and teasing him in the most seductive piece of lingerie you own? Sold.

In the midst of feeling bad for your poor poor boyfriend, you decide to up the ante, and take him fully into your mouth without warning. Another gasp catches in his larynx, finally releasing some of the pent up tension that had been building since the moment you tied a knot around his wrist.

“Ahhh, fuck. Fuck, yes sweetheart. God you feel so good—”

Expletives and moans fill your bedroom wall to wall, a familiar buzzing sensation hits your stomach as he mutters your name like a prayer.

“Just like that, baby. Not gonna last long if ya’ keep—fuck— suckin’ me off like that.”

It was now an attempt to beat the clock as you felt Ashton’s abdomen tighten. You knew he was close, he knew he was close, it was just a matter of when.

You continued the rhythm that hit him just right, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks whilst his mercy ran thin.

“That pretty mouth— s’good to me. Fuck, you’re an angel.”

With his words, you pop your head up, releasing his cock and replacing his your cock-full mouth with a smile.

“Keep talkin’ pretty boy, you’re so close, aren’t you?”

Ashton’s eyebrows furrow, but they don’t stay angry for long.

“You piss me the fuck off.”

A giggle slips past your steely demeanor, enjoying the ability to banter with your boyfriend while his head spins.

“I know. That’s the best part,” you coo, narrowing your eyes as your hand pumps his milks his cock to an imminent orgasm, “Now are you gonna cum for me, or what?”

One final tug at the headboard left Ashton spent, his release spilling onto your knuckles as you watch him with your bottom lip between your teeth. His breathing was shallow, in time with the rhythm of the last few strokes of your hand.

“Jesus Christ—” he sighs, his head thumping back into the pillows, “You’re a fuckin’ animal.”

“Still a merry Christmas?” You ask, your eyes half-lidded as you take your free hand to massage his shaky thighs.

“The merriest,” he breathes out, still trying to collect himself by running his hands through his now sweaty hair, “but just wait ‘till next year.”

After you’d cleaned up the mess you made and freed Ashton from his festive ligatures, the two of you sat, cozied in bed, staring up at the ceiling as you ruminated on the past year together.

“You know, if you wanna start up the tradition of having a real Christmas, I wouldn’t be opposed,” Ashton mumbles into your hair, still traipsing along the red tulle of your slip.

“Really? What changed your mind?”

“Don’t know. I guess today had me feeling ‘holly and jolly’, if ya’ catch my drift.”

The two of you giggle, feeling the warmth of your body heat combining to shield how Ashton blasted the AC to compensate for your longing for a real white Christmas.

“Maybe next year we’ll have a Christmas party. Invite a few friends, do a secret Santa, cook some dinner?” you shrug, mindlessly sweeping his hair off of his forehead and tucking it behind his ear.

“Hell no. Entertaining those losers is the last thing on my wishlist. But you and me? Alone together?”

“Yeah? What about it?” You hum.

“That’s at the top of my wishlist.”

[softlights-citylights]

Act II Scene III

<< Act II Scene II | series masterlist | Act III Scene I >>

WC 550

At the table read, she maintained her professionalism. Even though the only thing she wanted to do was leave. Even though she could feel Akaashi's eyes burning into the side of her head every time she opened her mouth to read a line. It was strange how the characters just met on accident, both showing up to the same event. At an underground car race, the two locked eyes right as Lawson shifted the gear to let his car drift. It was just like how her and Akaashi met, catching the other's gaze. She stood on the stage, illuminated by the spotlight, catching one of the many flowers tossed on stage. Akaashi had been one of the hands throwing roses at the stage actors and shock couldn't begin to describe how he felt when the lead actress caught his flower and pointed back at him with a smile. It was quite strange how she had been well respected within the acting department, but Akaashi had just been a wallflower. It was just like how Clara was the daughter of a car brand's CEO and Lawson was just a nobody, racing cars for the thrill of it. Clara gave him a car, the most expensive model, gave him a ticket to the top of his little racing world. She had given Akaashi the time and resources to make his first indie film a success, gave him a golden ticket to the limelight. It was strange, really. How Clara and Lawson had their first kiss in the dark, blind and desperate to feel the others' warmth. It was oddly similar to her and Akaashi's first kiss. The two main characters kissed with nothing illuminating them but the dome lights of Lawson's beat down car. She covered her mouth with one hand when she felt Akaashi's gaze on her lips. Like her, he was also thinking about their first kiss, doused in red. Akaashi's heart beat hard in his chest now just as it had when he unlocked the door to the dark room. There was a small room, dark and cramped, no larger than a storage closet. He was grateful for the darkness, where she couldn't see his cheeks burning. "This isn't the dark room," he said. "This room is here to make sure no light is let into the dark room." She nodded before realizing that he couldn't see her. "Okay. Should I leave my things here?" "Yes." Akaashi was already sliding his bag off his shoulder and feeling around in the dark for a hook to hang it on. The dark room was brighter than that little storage closet. Red light streamed out from beneath the crack in the door. Accidental touches turned into something more. Fingertips that bumped against each other in the dimly lit room were ignited with purpose. Even the stage directions seemed to mirror the events all those years ago. They were only in college then. It felt like they had only stopped believing in the monster under their beds a few years ago. Now Akaashi couldn't stop thinking about how it felt to gently press his fingertips into the back of her neck. How she had pushed forward under his soft guidance. God, he would hate to see Kuroo act out that scene with her.

<< Act II Scene II | series masterlist | Act III Scene I >>

Extras!

clara and lawson are the leads of the movie they are producing. its set in modern day europe. clara is the daughter of the owner of a car conglomerate. lawson owns this beaten down car of the brand her father owns.

akaashi hard panicked when atsumu said that thing about him confessing

he is lowk terrified about bokuto finding out he used to date YN because bokuto would 100% let it slip

AN ive been busy at work lately but it should be getting better now. Excluding the coming friday.

[praxisia]

I started a little monster Steve AU from this idea, here’s the first part:

Steve Harrington has a secret.

Billy has been hanging out with Steve for a while now, more or less since he first got to Hawkins, and there’s just something about the guy that strikes Billy as… off.

From what Tommy and Carol had told him, Steve apparently used to act real different. He used to be kind of a hot shot. He was cocky, smug, and always looking for a good time. Then he started going out with some chick named Nancy Wheeler, and apparently he hasn’t been the same since. Not since he caught her and Jonathan Byers practically dry humping in a closet at a house party a few months ago.

Billy gets it though. If he got cheated on with a guy like Jonathan, he’d lose his shit too. The guy is a creep with no friends, no personality, and no money. He’s got all the sex appeal of a soggy napkin. He’s so unremarkable that he’s practically invisible, and yet Steve somehow lost to him.

That’s not what Billy really means, though. Steve’s not weird because he’s stuck on Nancy, Billy has seen to that problem personally. And no, it’s not the fact that Steve’s bi, either. That was obvious since the first time Billy laid eyes on him at that Halloween party. Steve is just too pretty, too well groomed, and frankly wears too much Farrah Fawcett to be fucking straight.

Billy has seen some pictures from a year ago, back around the time he was dating Nancy, and he looked more like a prep than he does now. He used to dress like the boy next door. He tended to comb his hair back, and he used to wear khakis with his polos. Like, by choice. He just looked like someone who would date Nancy, if that makes sense. Since their breakup he dresses more casually, more cool, more like… well, more like Tommy, if Billy was being honest with himself.

But.

But. Steve has been growing his hair out. He’s been styling it differently too, because it's been looking more and more wavy. His eyes seem wider than they used to, they’re more doe-like than he remembers. Sometimes when they go to the mall, he notices the way that Steve will linger behind him and look over the things Billy seemed interested in. He swears that he’s seen a Metallica tape sitting in Steve’s glove box once or twice. And…there was this one time after basketball practice, where Billy got kinda close to Steve when they were alone in the locker room, that he noticed that Steve had used his cologne.

Billy found it kinda cute at the time, and kinda hot too, and he just had to call Steve out on it. He remembers how red Steve got when he asked if Steve snuck some of his cologne from his bag. He remembers the way his breath hitched, the may his voice got higher because of how embarrassed he was to be caught red handed.

Billy figured that maybe Steve was just a bit of a copycat. He figured that maybe Steve was the kind of person to pick up little bits and pieces of things he liked in other people and collect them for himself, the way birds collect shiny things to put in their nest. It was flattering. It was endearing.

Then one night, when Billy was driving Max home from one of her friend’s houses, he spotted Steve’s beamer parked out near the woods. It wasn’t on the shoulder, either, but just inside the tree line so that it was just barely visible from the road when Billy’s headlights hit it a certain way.

At first, Billy didn’t think much of it. Like, was it kinda odd? Yeah… but it’s not like Billy hasn’t done the same when he needed some time to himself, or on nights where he just couldn’t go home. He kinda figured that this was the same thing, figured Steve probably just needed to blow off some steam, and left it alone for a while.

Until he started to see the beamer more and more. Until he realized there was a sense of regularity to it.

There wasn’t exactly a pattern, per se, but there were rules that Steve seemed to follow. He always parked near the woods, usually just past the tree line or off the road if the trees were too thick. He never uses the same spot twice in a row, but he seemed to favor the quarry, lovers lake, and the woods near skull rock. He only ever goes to the woods at night, never during daytime.

Billy has gone up and inspected Steve’s car a couple of times to try and see what he was up to. He’s never seen any blankets or food or anything, so as far as Billy can tell he isn’t sleeping in his car.

Billy did try asking Steve about it once, the morning after he caught sight of the beamer in the woods near Loch Nora, and Steve got kinda weird about it. He said he goes out there to smoke weed or drink sometimes, which is fair. So Billy asked if he could come too sometime.

There was this look that Steve gave him. It’s like the way someone looks at you when they think they might be caught. That little moment when a person’s brain just kinda stops and they get that deer-in-headlights kind of look.

And Steve just kind of… brushed it off. He said to Billy that if he wanted to drink or smoke, he’d rather Billy just come over to his house. And.

He just doesn’t know what it is, but there was something about that whole conversation that just twisted Billy’s insides up. Like. He can’t tell if he should be worried for Steve, or worried about Steve, but he is worried either way.

____________________________

The next time Billy catches the gleam of the beamer in his headlights, he pulls over and parks his car just off the road, and gets out to investigate.

He whips out the flashlight he snagged from his glove box and peers inside the windows but doesn’t see Steve inside. There’s no blankets or spare clothes, no cigarettes or beer, or really anything out of place. It looks exactly the same as always, just like the last time he came out to check on Steve.

Billy shines his light around to look for some kind of sign for where Steve went.

There’s a bit of leaf litter that looks like it’s been kicked up so he follows the trail for a bit. After a couple of minutes of walking the trail just sort of disappears, no foot steps or cigarette buds or anything. He checks behind him to see that his camaro has been reduced to just a few slivers of shiny blue paint in the distance.

“This is so fucking stupid,” Billy says to himself aloud. He could be doing literally anything else right now, like smoking with Eddie, or playing basketball with some guys from the team, or —shit— even just reading a book would be less dumb than this, but instead he’s here making sure Steve isn’t getting super fucked up in the woods and getting eaten by bears or something.

He sighs, “Stop being such a fucking pussy.” He checks his watch and chews his lip a bit. “Twenty minutes. Just a quick look around and then I’ll go. Twenty minutes, tops.”

He trudges on through the trees and over rocks and roots, and winds himself around bushes and logs, until he eventually meets a river. The river is wide and the water is so dark that even in the light of his flashlight he can’t tell how deep it is. He briefly entertains the thought of trying to find a way across, but there aren’t any rocks in the river, and there isn’t anything around he can use as a makeshift bridge. Plus, he doesn’t feel like risking going home soggy and getting river water stuck in his car. Besides, Steve goes out to the woods all the time. Sure, yeah, Steve is spoiled as hell and can’t cook much more than a frozen pizza, but he’s not a baby. He’s probably fine and Billy shouldn’t have gotten so over dramatic about the whole thing.

Billy finds a nice sized rock on the edge of the river and takes a seat. The moon is bright and the stars are out and he really could use a cigarette right now, so he pulls out his pack and lights one.

The rock is cool through his jeans. He takes a long drag off his cigarette and feels his shoulders start to relax a bit. He focuses on the water, on the way it glitters with little patches of broken moonlight, and the way it sounds as it flows. He tries to let the tightness in his muscles go, letting the white noise of the river fill his mind and leach the tension from his body.

Billy leans forward just far enough to dip his fingers into the water. It’s cold to the touch, and it feels so smooth against his skin. It reminds him of the ocean a bit, the way the water laps at his palm.

It makes him think of California.

Billy got a job as a lifeguard at Hawkins’ pool and he’s spending as much time as he can there scraping up every penny he can get his hands on. Money is his ticket out of this backwater shit hole, and he’s got until he graduates to make enough money to get back home to San Diego. The first thing he’s gonna do once he has enough cash is buy his car from Neil; taking the camaro will be way easier than trying to take the bus. Plus, the bastard already makes him pay for the insurance. After that he’s gonna pack up as much stuff as he can without getting caught, collect his diploma, and the moment when everyone has their backs turned he’s gonna hop in his car and never look back.

Billy hasn’t told anyone about his plan yet, not even Steve. He knows he should tell Steve, and he wants to, but… he just can’t right now. He doesn’t know how to explain it in a way that sounds good, in a way that doesn’t make him look like some kind of…coward. Skipping town is just easier.

There’s just one problem.

Max is starting to figure things out at home. She’s seen some of the fights, had a taste of what it means for Neil to get genuinely angry, and in regular Max fashion she still hasn’t figured out how to shut her mouth and keep her head down. She chooses to fight, chooses to argue, and it’s pushing Neil to the edge. At some point, she’s gonna push too far and Neil is going to end up breaking something or someone, and then it’ll only get worse from there. Billy probably won’t be there to protect her when that happens, and knowing Susan, she’s not gonna lift a fucking finger to help.

He knows it‘s selfish, but he was hoping that maybe if he told Steve, then Steve might be able to keep an eye on Max. Steve likes Max. He never gets mad when Billy is forced to babysit her, or bring her with them when they were supposed to be hanging out together. Steve actually enjoys hitting up the arcade or the movies with her, and he watches over her at the pool when Billy is on break. Maybe Steve would leave his door open for Max if Billy leaves.

When he leaves.

Billy checks his watch and realizes that he’s been in the woods for a lot longer than twenty minutes so he gets up and dusts off his pants and—

JUMPS.

Somewhere behind him he hears leaves rustling. He looks around, scanning the landscape. The sound seems like it’s coming from somewhere over the river. He stares hard into the distance, trying to see if he can spot whatever is out here with him.

In the distance he sees a shape through the trees that looks to be about the size of a deer slowly making its way through the woods. He hopes it’s a deer, anyway, and not a bear or mountain lion. He clicks the flashlight on, hoping to scare the thing off, and instead feels his heart stop the second the light lands on the beast.

Its skin is pale gray. It has four long and knobby legs, and those skinny legs hold up a pot bellied and barrel chested body. Two glowing white eyes turn up to look at him and for a moment they stand there, staring each other down. Then the creature raises up onto its hind legs and Billy breaks. His foot slips out from under him as he tries to climb away from the river bed and he smashes his knee hard on the rock under him before he manages to scramble away. He stumbles from the pain but it’s quickly smothered out by the ice that fills his veins the second he realizes that he can hear the creature running after him. Leaves crunch and branches snap and he feels hot breath on the back of his neck. He pumps his legs faster and faster and his lungs catch fire. He’s dodging trees, hurdling over logs and rocks, but something gives way under him and he feels something in his leg crunch—

The ground hits him like a bus.

He wheezes, dazed. When his senses come back to him he realizes he is utterly swallowed in darkness. He can’t find flashlight at all, and his ankle is throbbing with pain. He manages to prop himself up on his elbows and he tries to listen, tries to see if he’s still being followed. A few seconds pass but he hears nothing. He pulls himself up to try to see over the edge of the shallow pit he’s found himself in, but he doesn’t see any shapes moving around in the darkness.

A twig snaps from somewhere above him and he looks up to see the silhouette of the creature climbing through the branches. It moves weightlessly, like a spider with its spindly legs and large belly. Billy presses himself flat up against the wall of the pit. He puts his hand over his mouth, willing himself not to make a sound, and holds his breath as the creature gets closer. He grits his teeth and prays.

The creature slows down as it gets closer and closer to where he’s hiding before pausing almost directly overhead. From where he is, he can see the creature’s neck stretch out to two or three times the length it was seconds ago, its long head turning this way and that. After what feels like an eternity the creature finally gives up. It chooses a nearby tree and climbs down the trunk, its pale body lumbering out of sight. Billy doesn’t dare move to follow it. Instead he waits and he listens. He can hear that thing crawling around him, can hear the crunch of leaves and rocks under its weight.

Eventually, blessedly, the sounds fade. Billy chances a peek over the edge of the pit and finds that the creature has moved on from him.

Billy tries to stand, but his left ankle buckles under his weight and he has to grit his teeth hard to keep from shouting in pain. He takes in a shaky breath through clenched teeth and wipes the tears from his eyes. His hands and arms ache from breaking his fall, and they’re probably gonna bruise, but at least he can use them. He finds a spot where the walls are less steep and hobbles over. Trying to climb out of a pit with only one leg is hard enough, but doing it in the dark while trying to keep as quiet as he can is next to impossible.

But he manages.

He claws his way up and out and he slumps onto his side to catch his breath.

His car can’t be that far away. If he’s quiet, if he’s careful, he can probably make it out of here. He just has to get up and do it.

Between the pain in his leg, the tears in his eyes, and the fear of being caught by that monster, the trek back to his car feels like an eternity. He almost sobs when he sees the glistening of the camaro’s shiny paint through the trees. He overshot the distance to his car by about twenty or thirty feet, but he is finally out of the woods.

He hurries over to his Camaro, blinking tears out of his eyes, and jumps inside.

He puts the key into ignition and suddenly safety feels like it’s just within his reach.

The second he turns his headlights on, he sees it.

There’s a flash of movement. A pale hand with dreadfully, terribly long fingers and the side of a long face ducks behind a tree. His heart drops out of his chest and settles like a lead ball in his guts. It’s here. He was so careful and it’s still HERE!

He feels heat explode in his chest and he throws the car into reverse and slams the gas, turning around in his chair to look out the rear window as he speeds away from the trees. The second his tires are back onto pavement he slams the breaks, jerking the wheel at the same time. The Camaro turns sharply and he almost slides back off the road before he can twist the wheel the other way to try and straighten out.

He wastes no time trying to see if the creature is coming after him. He throws the car into gear and floors it, tires squealing, and he peels off into the night.

[laxyaklovesloz]

Danny Phantom Revisit Season One

01 Mystery Meat 5

Master Post

“We didn’t do anything!” Danny said hurriedly. “Didn’t you see the ghosts fighting?”

“I don’t care who did what,” Mr. Lancer said, removing his hand from Danny’s shoulder. “Someone has to clean up this mess, and it might as well be you.”

Danny’s hands balled into fists and he clenched his jaw. He may be technically responsible, but Lancer didn’t know that. And punishing them just because they were in the center of it?

Mr. Lancer frowned at Danny and said, “You know what, I have another idea. Next week is Spirit Week, and to celebrate, the school’s counselor will interview everyone. You three will be first in line to talk to Ms. Spectra. I think it will be good for you, especially you, Mr. Fenton. We don’t want that anger spilling over into something destructive. Now come with me to get the supplies you’ll need to take care of this mess.”

Danny took a deep breath as Mr. Lancer led them into the school. Why was he so worked up about this? He’d never been so angry before, even when Dash wailed on him for no reason. He used to just take things like this without a fight. Now it seemed he found a spark of fight in him.

But what use was it? Taking his anger out on Mr. Lancer would only make things worse. He tried to bottle it up as they walked to the custodial closet. He would get control of his emotions.

Mr. Lancer made them clean up the bits of meat strewn about the campus. It took so long that they missed two classes. Danny ached from the fight he had with the Lunch Lady. By the end, he was actually grateful to go back to class instead of wandering around the school grounds picking up meat.

Word spread about a meat monster attacking the school. No one seemed to know she was a ghost. Didn’t matter to Danny. He wasn’t about to correct them. However, it was mentioned that a ghost fought the meat monster and won. Danny smiled at that.

Things were back to normal when he got home after school. His parents no longer thought Jazz was a ghost. What a relief!

That night, after everyone had gone to sleep, Danny floated down to the basement lab and hovered in front of the portal. He held the Fenton Thermos in his hands, but his mind was on the portal’s mysteries. The Ghost Zone was on the other side, but what was it like? Did he need special equipment, like in space? No, he was half ghost. He should be fine… Right?

But settled next to his apprehension was a feeling of excitement. And… longing. Something in his chest thrilled at the prospect of entering the Ghost Zone. Maybe he would feel more at home there than he thought.

With an unnecessary breath to settle his nerves, Danny went into the portal.

A swirling green tunnel greeted him on the other side. He quickly crossed the twenty or so feet to another identical portal, ready to see what was beyond.

The Ghost Zone was a mass of greens, from neon highlights to black shadows. Ectoplasm dripped up from a staircase that led to nowhere. Intricate but random patterns were etched into the sides of sideways buildings. Purple doors of various designs floated in the distance.

Upon entering the Ghost Zone, Danny’s chest swelled with a feeling of comfort. He felt rejuvenated like he just woke up. He belonged here. Or, at least, half of him did. What would it be like if he was in his human form? Now didn’t seem like the time to find out.

He wandered around, staring at all the strange structures. He picked out landmarks to help him find his way back. Behind the staircase was a door with a star on it. Around an island was a six-story building in an unnatural L-shape.

Once satisfied that he traveled far enough, he stopped in the green expanse and opened the thermos, pressing the release button. The Lunch Lady came out in a reverse whirlpool. Holding her head, she appeared dizzy. She looked around, gathering her bearings, then at Danny.

He rubbed the back of his neck and said, “The lunch menu is back to normal. Will you please stay in the Ghost Zone now?”

The Lunch Lady put a hand to her sternum and closed her eyes, smiling. “Yes, I sense order is restored.”

“Um,” Danny said, “do you mind if I ask some questions?”

“You may, sweetie.”

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “Why did you go through the portal? I mean, I know you were upset about the menu, but how did you know?”

“Let me ask you a question. What do you know about being a ghost?”

“Well… nothing, really,” Danny admitted. “I know I have powers, but I’m still working to control them.”

“No one taught you anything?”

Danny shook his head.

The Lunch Lady sighed. “Then I’ll have to give it a try. Ghosts have Obsessions, things we think about constantly and sense when they’re disturbed.” She paused, as though debating something. When she went on, her tone shifted to something darker. Not in an evil way, like before, but in a sad way.

“My Obsession is making sure children aren’t hungry. It stems from my life during the Great War.” She took a moment to gather herself, emotion filling her eyes. “Food was scarce, to the point of rationing. The poorer children – there were many of them – often went without food. I couldn’t stand to see them that way! I did what I could to help, even giving children my lunch and going hungry myself.

“When the menu at your school changed, I sensed that children were going hungry again. My Obsession took over and… well, you know the rest.”

“Yeah,” Danny said, stunned. It must have shown on his face because the Lunch Lady laughed – a tinkling, kind laugh, though it was tinged with sadness.

“It’s a lot to take in,” she said. “Do you have more questions, sweetie?”

Danny fiddled absently with the Fenton Thermos. “Yeah. What is this place? Why do I feel so at home here?”

“This is the Infinite Realms, where ghosts of all kinds dwell.” She pointed to a door behind Danny. “Each doorway leads to a ghost’s lair, but some lairs, such as the Far Frozen, are part of the realm. You can find them if you explore enough.

“As for why you feel the way you do, it’s because your Core belongs here. It craves the ectoplasm that is abundant in the realms.”

“My Core?” Danny asked.

“It’s like your heart, but more central to your essence.” She placed her hand on her sternum again. “It’s where your Obsession comes from, and your powers.”

“What’s my Obsession?”

“I don’t know. That’s something you have to figure out yourself.”

Danny thought for a minute. The Lunch Lady watched him patiently. Eventually, he asked, “What happens to humans here?”

“I do not know. As far as I know, no human has been here. You could find out.”

Danny thought about it. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“I’m right here if you need me,” the Lunch Lady offered. “Or you could return to your portal if anything goes wrong.”

“Yeah… yeah. I’m sure it’ll be fine. I can always transform back if I need to. Okay, I’ll do it.” He closed his eyes and let the white rings change him into a human. Nothing happened. He took a deep breath and smelled the Ghost Zone for the first time. Oddly enough, it smelled like Mountain Dew – citrusy and tangy. He opened his eyes and looked at his body. He was floating without feeling the tug of gravity. He laughed.

“It would appear humans are safe in the realms,” the Lunch Lady said.

Danny transformed back and said, “Yeah, guess so. That’s great! I don’t have to worry about accidentally turning human!”

“Don’t worry, you’ll get control of your powers soon enough.”

“Thanks, Lunch Lady.”

“Call me Helen.”

“Thanks, Helen,” Danny said. “So… I guess this means we’re cool now?”

Helen frowned in confusion. “Cool?”

“Yeah, it means we’re good. We don’t have to fight anymore.”

“Oh, I see. Yes! We’re… cool.”

Danny grinned. “Cool! Oh, I have one more question.” He looked down at the Fenton Thermos. “Why do I get so angry lately? I have this teacher, Mr. Lancer, who made me clean up after our fight, even though he didn’t know I was part of that fight. It made me so angry! But… I don’t know why.” His face was scrunched up when he looked at Helen.

She had her hand on her chin in thought. “I’m not sure. It could be because of your Core. Perhaps you as a ghost have an aversion to authority.” She chuckled. “I’m not surprised. You are a teenager, after all.”

“So it could be because I’m a ghost?” Danny asked. “What else is new?” he mumbled. “I thought being a ghost was all cool powers, not getting angry.”

“There are positives and negatives to everything,” Helen said. “I’m sure you’ll discover many new things about yourself.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Danny muttered. He looked around, trying to think of what to say next. “I think I’m out of questions for now. Wait, how can I find you?”

“Maybe one day I’ll show you my lair, but for now, I think you ought to go home. I’m sure your family misses you.”

Danny waved a hand in dismissal. “They’re all asleep. But I guess you’re right. I should go home. Thank you for answering my questions.”

“You’re welcome, Danny. Thank you for taking the time to listen.”

“You’re welcome,” Danny said. “Well, see you around, I guess.”

“Goodbye.”

Danny had a lot to think about on his way back to the portal. What was his Obsession? Would he go feral if he sensed something wrong? Helen was a nice lady who only acted crazy because of her Obsession. Did that happen to all ghosts? Would he be different because of his human half?

His mind turned to what Helen told him about herself. The information she gave seemed sacred – like he shouldn’t tell it to anyone else. Maybe a ghost’s history was something shared in the greatest confidence. He felt honored that Helen felt that way about him.

At the portal, he went invisibly and looked around before going through fully. No one was in the lab. They were probably all still asleep. The thought made Danny’s eyes droop, and he went upstairs to his room.

[piracytheorist]

Do you think any of the Forgers believe in ghosts or have a fear of the supernatural?

Anya is part of a supernatural force, courtesy of her mind-reading powers. And she's a child, so she definitely has some kind of belief or fear of something related. I wonder what kind of nightmares she might have and whether she has the instinct to run to someone for comfort after she's had one, cause she most likely didn't have someone to comfort her after one when she was in the lab or in any of the orphanages. Maybe the scientists drilled into her the thought that nightmares aren't real and there's no monster hiding under her bed or her closet.

She probably believes there are aliens and the kinds of monsters she comes up with.

She's like, five, and her imagination runs wild. And again, she herself is a result of human experimentation and has a dog that can see the future, so her imagination limits are probably even broader than the average five-year-old's. But I don't think she has a particular fear of ghosts or anything. Again, maybe the scientists took that fear away from her and maybe not in the kindest and most supportive of ways.

Twilight is a very logical person, and I doubt he believes in anything he cannot see or prove for himself. Even his own feelings are a difficult concept for him to grasp. Shameless self promo of my time loop fic, in which upon his realization that something supernatural is happening to him, he doesn't think "OMG magic is real! What else, am I gonna see ghosts or whatever?", instead he goes like "Okay, how do I work around this".

He's also a spy, putting himself in danger and dirtying his hands to create the world he wants. He doesn't seem to believe in a higher power or benign force that could help him in his mission; if he wants a better world, he has to work for it himself. He also probably doesn't fear of any divine judgment, I doubt he'd be able to do as much morally questionable stuff if he feared he'd be judged for them in the afterlife. He may not even believe in afterlife, period. How would he deal with the idea that, if judged for his actions, he wouldn't get to see his mother again in the afterlife?

As for Yor, she might be somewhere in the middle. Like Twilight, she took it upon herself to rid the world of dangers; she isn't expecting from a higher power to help her. No-one protected her and her brother when they were innocent, so she might as well dirty her hands to protect her brother, because what kind of a higher being that didn't help them when they needed it would have the footing to judge her for that?

That said, I wonder how accurate the translation of that line of hers is here. Cause here it sounds like she will be punished (by whom? Some higher power? The Shopkeeper if he finds out?) for thinking about harming an innocent person.

In the manga translation, it sounds like just by thinking of hurting an innocent person, she could jinx it and actually cause it to happen... or that if she thinks about it too much, she'll somehow end up convincing herself she should go ahead and harm Fiona?

In any case, she might lean more towards thinking supernatural things could happen, but it's not something that concerns her on a day-to-day basis. I don't think she fears of anything supernatural... if nothing else, because she might be confident enough she'll be able to fight off anything with harmful intentions. Gurl was absolutely ready to fight sharks if needed, I wouldn't doubt she'd be able to kick some ghost and demon ass no problem. I doubt she fears of divine judgment either, but unlike Twilight it wouldn't be because she doubts it exists, but because she concerns herself with the present and protecting what she cares about now. Future her can worry about that. And then kick the ass of the deity or demon punishing her for committing murder on the regular because excuse me sir where were you when me and my brother were two starving war orphans? Yeah, thought so.

(anime only here, don't spoil me for the manga)

[henrysglock]

You ever think about how Brenner said he always thought Henry was out there, hiding in the darkness. You ever think about how that line is followed directly by a recap of them exploring the original lab gate.

And then maybe you wonder about how El managed to escape in 1983. Her escaping out that tunnel, just like Henry showed her in NINA.

Then maybe you think about closet scene in NINA happening at night...despite the massacre happening during the day...and the 1983 escape vibes that has.

And the fact that that scene was entirely spliced in, and we never see closet guy again after that scene.

And then...I just think...Season 1

"And the boy?" "Still missing."

We assume Brenner's talking about Will when he says "the boy", since Will is our main focus at the time, but now, with the "First Message from the UD" not being Will's first time talking from wherever he disappeared to...

I'm not 100% sold anymore.

We've always assumed it was Will talking through the lights whenever they're being helpful, despite ST showing us over and over that the lights blinking and shifting just means someone is near them.

And now, in this latest TFS teaser...

It's the origin of the Upside Down. The first message from the Upside Down.

It does make me wonder who, exactly, was speaking when the lights spelled out RUN.

On a directly related note: Another thing that's struck me as odd all along was the teasing and commentary about monsters in TFS—

There are a lot of monsters.

And I initially went "but how, if no one opens gates until El does it in 1979? Is someone else opening them in the 50s? Are we talking about something else entirely?"

We've always assumed that Henry had never opened a gate/didn't have the ability to open gates because we never see him do it in the flashbacks. We've also assumed that he can't do it because Vecna couldn't do it. But if Henry isn't Vecna...then who's to say what his powers entail?

There's something about the Lost Sister, too. Kali having these vision powers but no remote viewing. All of Kali's One coding, behaviorally, as opposed to El and her refusal to go along with it. El having gate powers and remote viewing (remote viewing seems to be less unique, Ten had it as well, it's less of a tell)...especially when compared to the BTS teaser:

That plus the lost sister having initially been titled "The Lost Brother" and casting for men like Jamie...Something stinks about Henry-El Kali-One copycatting, here.

It makes me wonder who may have been opening gates like the one in the tree...or the one in the wall of the Byers' house, which would have allowed Will to escape, but only ended up drawing attention to him. Something about trying to help and making things worse by doing so.

Anyway, back to my original point.

We all assume Will has powers (and maybe he does, I don't know), and that he was the one who told Joyce to run in ST1, but now I'm wondering if we haven't been duped all along.

After all, who's the boy we just saw in the TFS teaser, the one who's shown using (what seem to be) remote viewing powers while holding hands with Sue Sinclair? How about the boy Patty Newby falls for? The boy Victor Creel loves to the moon and back? The "sensitive" boy who keeps spiders as pets in fully furnished jars? The boy who's so paralleled to Will that it's almost comical?

That's Henry, no?

So when we ask "Who's signaling for Joyce to run?"...let's put Mister "I tried to help, but it only made things worse", the guy who knew Joyce in the 50s, back on the table.

Pretty please. As a treat to me.

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 12

Rafe cracked open every door in that endless corridor. He finally found the room that he was looking for. With a subtle knock on the door he entered, almost scared to disturb her peace. He wondered why he even cared about her peace, she clearly didn't care about his. Not four years ago and certainly not now.

Rafe still didn't have many words for Jessie, but he managed a simple statement.

"If you're going to be here, claiming to be my wife after all these years, then you're going to give me some answers." He sniffled and said coldly looking over at Jessie lounging on the window sill overlooking the water. To Rafe, she hadn't changed a bit, but he could tell she had matured. She still looked beautiful to him, just as beautiful as he thought she was dancing so freely at the Island Club. He wanted that Jessie back, and he thought maybe this was his chance to see if that Jessie was still hiding somewhere in there.

Jessie simply looked over at Rafe, she understood where he was coming from. As much as she hated opening up, she knew he deserved answers. That's the main reason she didn't want to ever see him again, because she would have to have tough conversations. She hated those, and Rafe knew it. Jessie simply nodded in response.

Rafe couldn't believe it was that easy. No snide remark? No snarky comment? No attempt to weasel her way out of it? Odd, but he'll take it.

"Meet me downstairs for dinner. I have reservations for us." He said still showing slight anger. No hope in his voice, but he couldn't have hope until he had clarity.

"What do I need to wear?" She asked almost apologetically, suddenly feeling like a burden. She needed to get her act together. She wasn't a burden, she was his wife, and she wanted what was hers. How could he make her feel guilty so quickly? She knew it was because once she finally laid eyes on him again she would see the hurt she had caused, and like she said years ago, she was cold, but she wasn't heartless. She still had a moral compass that forced her to know that she had some explaining to do.

"You can go through Sarah's summer closet." He said as he stared off and closed the door.

- - -

"You're married to that man?!" JJ screamed over the phone as Jessie was trying to get ready for her date— no, dinner— with Rafe.

Jessie sighed, "Yes, JJ. This is not how I wanted you to find out but... I knew you would."

"Gee, thanks for the warning Jess." He sassed back. "When did you even-"

"It doesn't matter, ok?" Jessie snapped as she threw up her mascara-clad hand in defense even though JJ clearly couldn't see her. She was growing annoyed, but she knew JJ deserved the conversation as well. "We're married and that's all that matters."

"Like... legally? Because you know if this is some star crossed lovers shit than it's not going to hold up in-"

"It's real, JJ. We signed papers. Rafe knows it." Jessie exclaimed with confidence.

The line went dead, clearly JJ was thinking. He had to snap himself out of whatever he was thinking. It made him sick to think that his sister was legally bonded to that monster. He had secretly hoped that it wasn't actually legal.

"Whatever will get the gold back at this point." JJ replied, Jessie could tell he was most likely running his fingers through his knotted hair, tension and confusion clear in his voice.

"Wow, thanks." Jessie said with offense in her voice.

"You know that's not what I meant." JJ argued back in a tone only a brother could.

"Doesn't matter, I'm really starting to feel like a pawn in this little game of yours and I'm not about it." Jessie said louder, hoping Rafe wasn't around to here.

That hurt JJ.

"You know what, you have NO clue how hard it was for me to call you. I knew you wanted nothing to do with Rafe Cameron and-"

"Then why'd you do it, huh?" Jessie sassed. The line went silent again. "Right, the gold. It always goes back to the gold. You're just like dad, you can't let go of something that good even if it kills you trying to have it! Well I'm not like you, JJ. I can quit. I have quit. And I'm going to get this money, make you happy, and then go back to living my life, because unlike you, I actually know when to stop." Jessie finished.

No, THAT hurt JJ. He wasn't like his dad. He just wanted a better life, for Jessie too. This is all he had, and Jessie knew that. She regretted her words immediately.

"Look, JJ, I didn't mean-"

"Save it." He sniffled. "You wanna go home, fine, see if I care. The only reason I'm doing this is because I have nothing else. Not even my sister." He said as his voice cracked.

"Yes you do, JJ, don't be ridic-"

The line went dead.

Jessie had to brush it off. She's done that plenty of times in her life. It was time to have dinner with Rafe, and she couldn't let any emotions get in her way.

She made her way down the stairs in a red silk, cocktail dress with a perfect slit down the front, accompanied by some red strappy heels. Both her and Rafe shared regal exchanges, neither one of them wanting to see the other falter.

Rafe was enamored at her beauty, like no time had passed. Still, he remained stone faced as he watched Jessie glide down the stairs. He clenched his jaw in an attempt to not say what he was thinking. God she was gorgeous.

"You ready to go?" Rafe asked, never taking his gaze off of Jessie as he held his hand out for her with a straight face. He may have been angry with her for a long time now, but he couldn't forsake being a gentleman to his lady. Jessie couldn't help but swoon at the action, remembering all the times before when he acted like a gentlemen towards her. She took his hand and gave him a slight smile as if to silently thank him. They walked to the car that was waiting for them. Rafe wouldn't be driving tonight, probably because he needed security at all times considering the treasure he was in charge of.

Rafe and Jessie rode in silence, neither of them quite sure what to say to the other. Rafe mainly just wanted to wait until they got to the restaurant in hopes of catching Jessie off guard to prompt her to tell him everything he wanted to know. Jessie mainly didn't speak for fear of that exact scenario, she had to remember not to be impressed. She was on a mission, for JJ.

After a short car ride, they arrived at the restaurant, which was just as fancy as the mansion Jessie entered just hours earlier. Rafe helped Jessie out of the car and into the venue, being met with mood lighting like she'd never seen before, a large open dining room, light Bahamian music, and white table cloths meeting the floor. Rafe really spared no expense. Rafe pulled out the chair for Jessie, yet he never cracked a smile since they left for the evening. Rafe seemed... focused. Jessie had to remember that Rafe could play the game just as well as she could. That's what made them so dangerous... so explosive.. for each other. Message received. Game on.

"Anything I can get started to drink?" the waiter asked.

"We'll have the best bottle of wine you got." Rafe stated with a smirk as he looked over at Jessie. "What about you, Jess?"

"I'll just have water please." Jessie smiled politely at the waiter.

"No wine tonight?" Rafe inquired with confusion.

"Better not." Jessie said as she returned the smirk and rested her head on her hand. She knew what he was doing. Trying to wine and dine her wasn't going to work, she needed to stay stone-cold sober for this night. "Besides, I don't really drink anymore." Jessie declared.

Rafe scoffed in disbelief. "Since when?"

"Since I grew up, Rafe." She replied as she took the cloth napkin and laid it flat on her lap, ending her sentence looking back up at Rafe with a serious expression.

"And when was that exactly?" Rafe asked as he knitted his eyebrows together.

"When you gave me no choice." Jessie snapped.

"Oh come on, Jessie. What's the real reason you left?"

"I really left because of you, Rafe. And that's not a surprise to you and you know it. Don't act like you didn't totally screw up what we had." Jessie said with a hint of irritation in her voice. Rafe knew Jessie was right, he didn't press the subject anymore. He simply looked down and nodded in agreement. He unclenched his jaw to speak again.

"Okay, well, uh... how's life?" Rafe attempted a normal conversation.

Jessie laughed, "Life's fine." was all she could muster. That's not what she really wanted to say.

"So what does life look like for you nowadays? Where are you living?" Rafe asked as he poured himself a glass of wine, and poured one for Jessie also despite her previous statement. Jessie brushed off the gesture.

"Life looks like me going to work, coming home, cooking, cleaning, going to sleep, and repeating the same thing every day until I die. Living the dream." Jessie responded sarcastically. "But, hey, I mean I'm sure your life is much more interesting, what have you been up to since I left?"

Rafe just chuckled. "This dinner isn't about me." He calmly proclaimed.

"Then what's it about?" Jessie leaned in hoping to intimidate Rafe.

"It's about you leaving me without so much as a goodbye." Rafe retorted through gritted teeth and an iron fist. Jessie could see him starting to crumble. "We were married, and in love, or so I thought." He trailed off.

"Rafe, this isn't exactly the time or place to unpack this." Jessie explained.

"No, Jessie, this is the perfect time and place to unpack this. Because if we were anywhere in private right now, I would not be able to keep my cool."

Wow. Charming.

"What're you gonna do, Rafe? Huh? Nothing. You know why?" Jessie asked as she leaned in further.

"Yeah, I know exactly why. Because despite all of these years of trying to hate you... I can't." Rafe claimed in a hushed tone with frustration evident in his face as he leaned in closer as well.

"And I can't hate you either, Rafe. So can we please just start out with something a little lighter?" Jessie admitted. Damn it. She let her guard down, but maybe it was just what Rafe needed to hear to get him to calm down, she hoped.

Rafe leaned back in his seat again and spread his legs further apart as if to intentionally take up more room and let himself cool off. He breathed out heavily.

"Yeah, yeah sure." He stated as he took the wine glass in his hand and tried to get back into more of a flirtatious state of mind. "You remember the first time we were dressed up together like this?" He smiled sincerely, clearly regaining the sweet memory.

Jessie looked down at her napkin and smiled as well. "How could I forget?"

[star--joy]

Hold My Hand & Watch the Sun Rise

When Vex is woken by a nightmare, Percy has the perfect remedy: watching the Whitestone sunrise together.

-

Perc'ahlia Week Day One: Dawn/Treasure

-

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Warnings: None

Words: 1208

Originally posted: 9/24/23

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50305858

The nightmare is a vague thing. Incomprehensible, really. There is no monster, no big bad to be afraid of, nothing of the sort. It’s just dark and empty and Vex is running, running, running, away from nothing and everything at the same time. Thick, syrupy dread pools in her stomach.

When she finally jolts awake, she does not scream, or thrash, or even whimper. No, she’s had far too much practice to allow such obvious distress to show. The only thing to leave her trembling lips is a gasp. Quiet, easily swallowed by the still night air.

Alas, Percy was always a terribly light sleeper. The tiny noise is enough to pull him to consciousness. “Mmh?”

Vex holds still, hoping he’ll decide that nothing is wrong and fall back into a full rest.

No such luck. Her hitched breathing must give her away. Or perhaps he can feel the pounding of her heart from where their bodies press together. Either way, he leans up slightly on his elbow, blinking as he tries to see through the darkness of the room. “Vex, I know you’re awake.”

“No, I’m not,” she huffs, scooting a few inches away so he’s no longer spooning her so closely. “Go back to sleep.”

Percy is silent for a long few moments, but Vex isn’t foolish enough to think he actually listened to her command. Even if she couldn’t feel him watching her, she knows him well enough to know that returning to sleep is now a lost cause for the gunslinger. He’s going to be too focused on making sure she’s okay to get any more rest.

Gods damn him and his loving fucking care.

“Shall I call for Vax?”

“No, I’m fine. Just— please, Percy, I don’t want to talk about it.” The last thing Vex wants is to worry her brother with something as inconsequential as this. She can’t even remember any details of the nightmare, for Pelor’s sake! It’s nothing. She can handle it.

Percy ever-so-gently reaches for her arm, letting his calloused fingers slide down her wrist until their fingers can wrap together. “Dear Heart,” he whispers, eventually, and Vex curses the way that moniker always sounds so lovely on his lips. “Have you ever seen a proper Whitestone sunrise?”

“…what?”

Without letting go of her hand, Percy reaches over to fumble on the nightstand for his glasses. “It’s extraordinarily beautiful, if you have the patience to see it through. If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to watch it together.”

Vex turns to peer at him, the squint of her eyes caused half by the dim lighting, half by a confused suspicion. “Why?”

His throat bobs, and he takes a few seconds to consider his answer. “Because I think it would calm you.”

Instinct clamps around Vex, demanding she turn sharp and defensive, deny his care on principle. If it were anyone but Percy, she would probably give into that instinct without hesitation.

As it is, she fights her gut response and tries to meet him in the middle. “Alright. But I’m not talking about it. Yet.”

Percy nods. “Whenever you’re ready, I trust you’ll come to me. Until then, I won’t pry,” he assures her, bringing her hand up to his lips, kissing the fingers before he guides her out of the bed.

Vex’s silky sleep dress ripples around her as she follows her husband, who only makes a quick stop to their closet so he can throw one of his fur-lined tailcoats over her goose-bump covered shoulders before leading her out to the balcony attached to their bedroom. 

The fresh night air is a balm Vex didn’t know she needed as they step outside. No signs of sunlight appear over the trees, but she reckons it won’t be long before it begins to peek out. In the meantime, she sits on the edge of the bench they’d had installed. Percy sits a few inches away from her, connected only by their intertwined hands, but it doesn’t go unnoticed how he keeps his posture open. If, or rather, when she will inevitably want to, Vex will have no trouble curling into his side. Just now, though, she appreciates the distance.

Time passes. Even in the silence, Percy does not twitch, does not fidget. His eyes are locked onto the treeline. Vex pulls her knees up to her chest so she’s hugging her legs, chin resting on her kneecaps. Focuses on breathing, slowly, in and out.

“Look,” Percy whispers, after what she would estimate to be half-an-hour has slipped by. He points to the forest, where the first beams of purple are beginning to cut across the sky, just barely visible. “It’s starting.”

Vex trails her gaze over the slowly-lightening dawn. “Do you watch this often?” she asks, voice raspy with sleep, but steadier than it had been before. The fresh air and silent company has helped her calm down remarkably well. 

“Not for a long time. This used to be my mother’s remedy to our nightmares, when my siblings and I were young.”

While he speaks, Vex tilts herself into his side, and he’s quick to tuck her into his blanket. Her voice is small when she whispers, “I don’t even remember what I dreamed about, really. Isn’t that stupid?”

It’s a relief when he doesn’t immediately sprout off some practiced response, but rather considers it deeply. “It’s illogical, perhaps, but feelings rarely fall into the realm of logic. We’re all bound to have emotions we can’t explain. Whether or not they’re ‘stupid’, as you say, does not have an effect on whether or not we are.”

The answer is so true to Percy that Vex can’t help but snort a tiny laugh. “Eloquent fucker.”

He shares her laughter, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’m not called a genius for nothing.”

They lapse into silence once more, and Vex soon finds herself enraptured by the pinks and oranges and yellows that scatter across the dim sky, a mirage she’d been entirely unprepared for. It casts warm light on the city spread out before the forest, as the early-risers begin to leave their homes and do the first errands of the day. Everything is painted in gold. She’d assumed that Percy was exaggerating about the beauty of it all, but looking at it now, there’s no denying how correct he was. “Holy shit,” she whispers.

He pulls her in tighter, running his hand up and down her upper arm. “I told you.”

“Don’t be smug,” she laughs.

“I would never,” he lies, resting his head on top of hers.

The colors continue to mingle and blend as the sun lifts higher and higher. Whitestone’s streets grow busier, shops opening and parents taking children to school. Mingled chatter rises through the air, reaching their ears.

It’s utterly soothing, and Vex cannot help the way her eyes flutter shut for several seconds too long every time she blinks. Percy notices, because of course he does, but does not comment. All he does is tuck his coat more securely around her shoulders and continue to stroke her softly.

When the dawn finishes, she’s long asleep once more. This time, she dreams of nothing but the feeling of being loved.

[sirspazingtonthefourth]

The Strength it Takes to Continue: Chapter 5

0.9k words. Gojo and OC's. Fluff, but a little angst along the way. Found family. Content warnings: cursing.

Summary: The Saito's know something is strange about their daughter

“Left, right, duck, center, right-” Hikari says. She and Gojo are in the backyard, practicing strikes. She’s started to come into the strength many sorcerers have, he can feel the extra force her punches have.

The first step, he thinks, is to make sure she’s aware of what she does. So he makes her say where his hands are as she strikes them. He keeps them moving, occasionally swiping at her so she doesn’t get too comfortable. There’s a lot to do, to make certain she doesn’t hurt her future classmates.

After all, she’s five now. She’ll be starting school soon.

Besides, this way he can be sure she knows how to keep herself safe. Curses can’t always be fought at range, especially if they’re indoors. She’ll need to be able to throw a punch if one of them ambushes her in the halls.

“Face!” she shouts, and Gojo leaps backward. Seems she was giving him a little test of her own. She stands, still so small compared to him. “I’ll get you one day, just you wait!”

“Not a chance!” he laughs out. “Come on, I think your mom and Shoko are almost done getting that picnic set up. Unless you don’t want to go to the park.”

“Oh! I’ll go help!” She rushes inside, little legs still so much faster than Gojo would have expected. He catches the barest glimpse of brown lines on the front of her leg as she sits to take her shoes off, but she’s off before he can take a better look.

The walk to the park is nice. Hikari hangs off of Shoko’s arm while he and Emika chat about plans for the week. He has to go across the country for an assignment, and she’s putting together the things Hikari needs for school. Kouta is apparently in the running for a promotion at his office job, and it looks like he’ll get it.

Their lives are going well.

As soon as the playground’s in sight, Hikari’s off like a shot. There’s a few other kids there, and she convinces them to let her in on a game of tag. The adults set up the picnic nearby, chatting and enjoying the lunch Emika had made.

It’s Shoko that spots the curse first, elbowing him in the ribs to get his attention. It’s sitting on the monkey bars, something snake-like but with too many eyes and far too many legs.

And below it stands his not-quite niece, staring up at it. She raises a hand, and he can almost feel the gathering of cursed energy around her arm. She fires right as the curse rears back to strike, and its body dissipates.

The recoil of the shot is too much for her, though, and she’s knocked backwards. She scrapes her hands on the landing, he can see it in the way her lip wobbles, but she wipes her face and gets back to playing.

“I worry for her.”

Emika had apparently seen everything. Or, everything but the third grade curse her daughter had just exorcised.

“She gets this look sometimes. Like she’s seeing something that isn’t there. And she still talks about these monsters. Calls them curses, now, but I know they’re the same.

“I just… most kids her age still believe in monsters in closets and under beds, but out in a park like this? At the store?” And Gojo sees the look of worry on her face. He knows there is nothing he could do to make it better. Telling her that her daughter isn’t lying, that there’s really something there, and that she’s been fighting them off since she could properly channel her cursed energy…

No need to make her worry more.

“And she’ll come inside or downstairs covered in scratches and bruises, sometimes. She says it’s the curses that do it.” She gives a wry chuckle, finally taking her eyes off her daughter as she shakes her head. “I just worry how the other children will treat her, with all of this going on.”

He looks at Shoko, who gives a helpless shrug. And though he has to swallow down bile, he lays a hand on Emika’s shoulder so she can look him in the eye as he lies to her face.

“She’ll be fine.”

“Are you staying the night?” Hiraki asks as he tucks her into bed.

“Sorry, not tonight. I’ve got to be on the other side of Japan by tomorrow morning, and I’d rather not expend too much energy warping myself that far.”

“Okay.” She snuggles into the blankets a little more. He hesitates, but sits at the foot of her bed.

“Your mom says you’ve been getting hurt recently. Mind telling me what’s been happening?” She looks a little bashful, sitting up and twisting the blankets in her hands.

“Some of the curses get too close. Sometimes there’s two, or even three of them, and I can’t get one of them. They haven’t been able to do much more than scratch me a little, though, because I practice with you and you’re way, way faster than a curse!”

He kicked himself. He’d taught her plenty of offence, but none of that was any good if she got herself hurt or killed. He should have caught that mistake sooner.

“Next time I come over, I’ll show you how to make a barrier. That way they can’t get to you. Sound good?”

“Mhm.”

“Alrighty,” he said, reaching out to ruffle her hair. “Night, bean sprout.”

“Night Uncle Toru. Be safe.”

“You too.”

Masterlist

[lou-iz-stat]

Well I got to episode 5 in my IWTV S1 rewatch…

Truthfully I probably won’t say much about this episode since there is so much of it in season 2 that I think will be revisited. On top of that I am at the end of my semester at school so I probably won’t say much because of that too. Also out of all of the episodes of s1 this the episode that I have seen the least.

But we still have 3 more weeks until season 2 where I have no doubt that s1 will be tame when compared to it. I’m getting more and more nervous each week not going to lie.

Ok… here we go!

IWTV S1 E5: A Vile Hunger for Your Hammering Heart

The episode starts with Daniel reading Claudia’s diary and how she records the last words of the people she kills.

But then Daniel is interrupted by Louis feeding on ‘Rashid’. It is pretty nasty for Louis and Armand to do this in front of Daniel. He even reads his mind to try and throw Daniel off his game. I notice that whenever Daniel tries to talk about something negatively about Claudia, Louis will always try to do something to throw Daniel off that even holds through in the ‘Paris sucks’ clip we have in s2.

It’s funny that Armand tells Daniel he would not let him anywhere near his neck. He must still be mad at Daniel for something maybe Devil’s minion related? 👀

Then we go back to 1923 where Louis thinks that she has gone on a hunger strike because of Charlie but Lestat knows that she is just escaping when they have to go feed. Since they are so similar Lestat knows that Claudia would not skip out on meals.

Also the line “I know what I’d do, but you cut my hands off.” Like!!!!! Fucked up Nikki reference. 😭

Also Lestat reading the diary and the dairy being so graphic ugh… 🤢

Everything is just such a mess… oh boy… with all the bodies coming up

And of course Tom Anderson is trying to distract Loustat since the Police chief is there in the speakeasy.

I feel so much anxiety with all the cops in their home! And Claudia is not helping! 😬

There are still some comical bits such as the “We sell… incinerators.” Louis’s little shrug at Lestat. “To various American cities.” The delivery is actually very funny.

Also what’s funny is Claudia’s acting when the cop opens her door. Her face when she drops the blanket and the closet door opens to show the rotting man.

But all the fun and games stop when the cop is homophobic.

Yes Lestat is a jerk and treats Claudia like shit and still sees Antoinette so Claudia only feels like she has to leave.

Also establishing that Claudia is unable to turn people is a great thing to set up now.

And even though it’s heartbreaking I do love that Claudia gets mad at Louis for not just taking her to a hospital but made Lestat turn her into this monster. Bailey’s acting is just so perfect here.

We go back to Dubai and Daniel is telling Louis some harsh truths about what the public could do with Claudia. Yikes

And their home turns into a ruin after they wake up from their long nap

Man…Fuck Bruce

The part where Louis makes Daniel’s Parkinson’s go out of control as always annoyed me even if Daniel was stepping out of bounce it just never sat right to me. And of course Armand is there to ‘calm Louis down’

We go back once again and we see the scene of Louis saying his final goodbye to Grace and his makes Claudia come home after everything.

Lestat is such a bitch when she comes home. I understand what he is trying to do but it’s just all wrong.

And the fight happens. We will revisit what happened during the fight in the coffin room that we don’t get to see. But as an indication by some parts of the trailer we have already seen a glimpse of it. Hopefully the writers handle it well…

Also the during the drop scene it sounds a lot like what Armand said to Lestat before pushing him off a tower in TVL so I guess we’ll see what comes of it.

Okay good got through that one. Now I can get back to some class work lol.

I cannot believe that we are now 3 weeks away from seeing the premier for season 2 and for some of you, you will be seeing it in about a week and a half. Good luck to the NYC people that get to see it early.

[butmakeitgayblog]

Sorry to bother you but that anon question (the one about CI Lexa being "the little spoon" of cuddles and more) made me wonder about Clarke. I really appreciated your answer about Lexa, it's really interesting especially for her character's psychology but what about Clarke? She is not dumb, even though it is a recurring joke between the two, she is not. Maybe she is emotionally dumb (in an affectionate way, CI Clarke is one of my favourite Clarke's of yours so only love for her) but she is sharp and clever when she wants (😂😂) so I suppose she knows she has this "power" - whether it's given by Lexa or not - and I suppose that at some point, maybe when they're already married (so with a few years behind their backs and out in public), Lexa will talk with Clarke about what does this mean to her, what does it mean to give this particular "power" away to Clarke. So Clarke has to know how important it is to not fuck this up, to not betray it. And I can't stop thinking about how much this power can create a need to protect her wife, to be fair and good to her, because even though they bicker and banter, they know how much the other suffered and they know how much this relationship means. So (I swear I really have a question 😂) my question is: is there a moment where, even though this power is not used in public, except for maybe some holding hands or an arm around Lexa's waist, Clarke uses it to protect Lexa? Because I know Lexa knows how to protect herself, especially against people that don't really know where to draw a line with her, but is there a moment where Clarke is like:"You know what babe? Let me punch this fool in his face for you just for fun, I know you can do it by yourself and I know people expect you to do it, but I'm gonna do it because I'm your wife and I need people to know that I will kill them for you." Something like that, I may have lost my train of thoughts but something like that. I don't know, I can totally see Clarke being scold at home for such a big reaction but then being kissed because of it. CI Clexa (in some ways) remind me of canon Clexa:"Yes, you may be the Heda, but I'll try to kill Nia because she pissed you off."

That last line, right there. That's their dynamic at its very fundamental core.

The thing is, most people don't fully realize the extent to which Lexa allows Clarke to be in control because she is someone who carries and conducts herself with so much poise and power. From an outside perspective it would look more often than not as tho Lexa is just this "I don't need no bitch, I run this shit" woman, and unapologetically so.

But they don't know her the way Clarke does and they certainly don't understand their dynamic. They don't understand that while, yes, Lexa is an extraordinarily strong and self sufficient woman, there will always be that little girl in a black dress and braids, standing next to her dad's casket thinking, "I'm alone now." They don't know that while, yes, Lexa is a Grade A heinous bitch who enjoys manipulation and toying with others, a part of her will always be that little girl who had to teach herself how to survive in a cold and unloving home. Who taught herself that there wasn't anyone else there to really look out for her without a selfish motive driving their actions. Who told herself that it was ok that there was no bigger bed to crawl into at night when she needed protecting from the monsters in her closet.

But when Clarke looks at her wife, she sees that. She sees her exactly as she is. Powerful and conniving and manipulative and hedonistic, but she also sees that scared little version of Lexa as well.

And the urge protect every iteration of this woman makes. Clarke. Go feral.

It's just like the moment when Hellen slapped Lexa. Clarke was this 🤏 close to beating the shit out of her. Lexa knew without a doubt if she hadn't stepped in, Clarke would have closed fist punched her mother repeatedly without question. Clarke maybe 80% bark and biting words - her weapon of choice has always been her words and malicious intellect - but when push comes to literal shove, Clarke fights dirty. She's a brawler. She's not interested in fair fights, she's interested in what will make her win.

That being said, she's also learned a lot from Lexa over the years in the sense that the best course of action is to simply ruin their entire life. Physical fighting is so messy. Half the time you come out looking like a degenerate and taking a knock to your reputation anyway. Hence part of Clarke's less than steller reputation before they were together 😬

So rather than physically fight more, she becomes more nefarious. More of a malignant entity in the life of whoever manages to get themselves in her crosshairs.

Someone in their social circle begins whispering little unsavory rumors about her wife? Clarke will make sure their spouse just so happens to catch wind of their own little dalliances over brunch. A board member challenges Lexa's competence at the helm? Clarke will systematically burn every personal bridge they have within the company until they're voted out. You flirt with her wife beyond what Lexa's comfortable with? She'll pay an escort to seduce yours instead. She'll even pay extra just have them fuck the little Mx. right in your bed (with pictures 🙂). You try and make Lexa look foolish among your peers? Don't be surpised if you're getting pulled over with glove box filled coke. Whether you're into it or not...

She will literally smile in your face while driving a knife square into your back.

The woman has very little conscience and a protective streak a mile wild. While she had her fun punching a few handsy bystanders in her youth, dating and then being married to someone like Lexa for years has had so many delicious advantages, one of which was learning the fine art of subterfuge.

And while Lexa may be the master, it turns her on like crazy when she's surpassed by her very sexy student 😏

[violivs]

NMTDaily: Preparing for Pedro’s Party

- There is SO much clever symbolism in this episode that I didn’t get before. Get ready!

- Aww I love this episode, it’s so sweet to see the girls just being sweet friends having fun.

- Justice for Ursula, they should’ve invited her over to raid the costume closet too!

- Do we know what the occasion is for Pedro’s party? Is it his birthday or something? Or is it just a classic teenage “my parents will be out so I’m throwing a party for no reason other than opportunity” situation?

- Oh my GOD Meg no. I forgot about “nude bodysuits are the worst” “I don’t have to wear the bodysuit!”

- Bea and Meg hugs are cute!

- “You can dress as whatever you want as long as I approve of it” classic overbearing Bea.

- I am CERTAIN that Beatrice’s devil horns are a Much Ado reference but I can’t remember the particulars. 😈 🧐 Isn’t it like, horns represent the cuckold so Benedick swears you’ll never see him with horns in his head like a married man? I feel like that’s talking about bull horns rather than devil horns- but Hero is also brandishing a red cape like a bullfighter in this moment so that works too! This is definitely a reference.

- “Making a point” love a good pun lol

- That is significantly more wigs than I ever had in my dress up box growing up. (Well- mine were Ariel wig, Rapunzel wig, and witch hat with grey hair attached, I guess that’s kinda three wigs, so we are at equal wig numbers. Wig tangent!)

- Bea holding up a leather and metal belt thing and Meg saying “oh that’s mine”. Margaret you are too young to be making that kind of joke. I am shocked!

- “I could be a lion” *roars while wearing a lace curtain as a mane* - see, something about this reminds me so much of the Mechanicals from A Midsummer Night’s Dream and their makeshift costumes. Love that.

- Beatrice’s horrible pink dress that looks like a sea monster also reminds me of a flamingo! 🦩🦩🦩

- I was gonna say imagine Ben’s reaction if Bea went to the party as a flamingo in that dress. But then I realized he might still be watching Bea’s videos at this point in the story, and even if not, he IS still gonna get to see her in this dress when they watch back all the videos together at the end, lol. “You’re a beautiful flamingo!” - Ben, reacting to the dress and making Bea blush, in my headcanon I just made up right now.

- Meg, kind of staring at Bea’s cleavage in the pink dress: “I love it!”

Hero: “I’m sure you do”

Look, maybe this was more slut shaming, but in MY head, this was just the first sign that made us all think Meg was bisexual- and Hero knew it.

- “Pink is scientifically the most painful color for the human eye to look at, so. Enjoy.”

- Punk Hero! Yeah girl, step out of your comfort zone for a night!

- They really are laying on Meg’s characterization as the sexual and outrageous one in this episode. The jokes she makes, trying to get Hero to unbutton an extra button. It makes me worry about her, how that can be used against her, and we know that worry is unfortunately well founded.

- “You’ve gotta hunt him down-“ “Like a PREDATOR” poor Bea is so uncomfortable with the dating/flirting talk and trying to diffuse it here, I almost feel bad for laughing

- “I just don’t think anyone’s that awkward around me. I think I just bring out the best in people.” Never lose that self-confidence, Meg! (Also, this line has def been juxtaposed with Freddie’s anxiety to show how Winterking could work in the lolilo era of the fandom- I think I made one of those edits myself.)

- Meg’s spiky hat after the next cut is giving Dalek tbh

- Oh man, I’m obsessed with Beatrice’s Benedick cosplay. Like, he does have a garish space cat shirt, but when have we ever seen him wear a hat apart from the Where’s Wally sketch, which Bea isn’t supposed to have watched? And he only wears sunglasses once, during a video that has not happened yet. But somehow she expects everyone to get who she’s making fun of right away? And they do?

- Also it’s a great example of how she clearly has Benedick on the brain. Why did you bring Ben up again, apropos of nothing, right after Hero was talking about the boy *she* likes? I see you, Beatrice.

- Love that not only can she not do his accent, she also can’t help making him sound like an annoying small child or an elf or something, lol.

- Wait oh my god! I just noticed that throughout this video, Beatrice is wearing a black watch! Just like the one Ben wears! Somehow I never noticed Bea’s watch before, even though I always notice Ben’s and think how quaint and old-fashioned it is of him to wear an analog wristwatch. I love that. Costuming parallels. Soulmates.

- Beatrice doing the Ben voice: “Yo!”

Meg: “No.”

Ben, in the video description of literally the next video: “yo yo yo!”

Lol amazing she nailed his brand of utter cringe

- “It’s beautiful!” “No, it’s heinous!” “I think that you should never take it off.”

- Can I be overly literal and point out that Hero just said Bea should never take off the shirt that represents Benedick, and then (spoilers) Bea is gonna actually literally proceed to be life partners with Ben forever after? I.e. never taking him off. Squee! It’s a very adorable (heinous?) metaphor!!!

- And it reminds me of “you are too fine to wear for everyday use”, Beatrice comparing another suitor to clothing in the play while shooting him down.

- “Oh, bucket hat? Always!”

- Hero with the boots: “I just want someone to dress up as a cowboy so they can wear these.” Remember this line for the party episodes and look out for cowboys 👀 There will be one!

- Beatrice the ironic/as-a-joke princess! A great moment, a great character choice.

- Also obsessed with her “that’s creeping me out” about wearing a bridal veil and holding a green wig bouquet. TCW found a way to make modern Beatrice say she’ll never marry without actually saying she’ll never marry. Adaptational choices!

- Meg puts the devil horns on Hero and says “I really love you in that” and Hero says “I don’t know about this.” Holy symbolism Batman! Literally visually foreshadowing her being villainized against her will. Wow.

- “Boys, Leo, we’re talking about boys! Come and join us!” Lol

- I always crack up at Leo’s terrible helmet-ass hat hair when they take off his cap. I’m sorry buddy, you need a brush.

- I also love them putting him in the cape and clown wig. He IS about to be clowning hard when the rest of the plot unfolds.

- Bea calling Leo an old man and I am suddenly very relieved to do the math and figure that Leo is still chronologically older than me, even though I’m older now than he was during NMTD. I was about to become the crypt keeper otherwise, my god.

- This is interesting too because now the girls already know Leo thought Pedro liked Hero, so they should be able to head off Claudio’s confusion ahead of time. Why don’t they?

- Also interesting that Leo assumes Bea would be jealous of Hero dating Pedro. That would probably piss Bea off, like “quit assuming I have a crush on every guy I’m nice to, that’s so reductive”. It’s another example of her feeling like the idea of dating is being forced on her.

- We definitely get a taste of Leo’s patriarchal view of Hero and need to pass judgement on her dating life here. Even otherwise good men are steeped in the patriarchy and take certain ideas from that that can quickly turn toxic. The themes of the play are being seeded here. Onward!

- Comment section boogaloo: lots of comments loving Leo and the setup of his character for what’s to come; discussion of how most of this episode was improvised by the actors; comparisons to Darcy Costume Theater from the LBD.

- Best comment award goes to DillyBlue from two months ago, saying “Hero, forget Claudio, Meg is clearly into you!”

- We all see the vision and the vision is that Meg Winter likes girls.

🦩🥭💖