#i can't find it anywhere and my brain is itching

[scottstiles]

anybody remember this scene from chitty chitty bang bang?

am i conflating or did the thompson twins from tintin also do this???

[howisjoostfanfictionforfree]

Twice as Many Shadows

Joost Klein x Vampire!reader

Real person fiction!

CW: 18+, MDNI, RPF, getting roofied, attempted sexual assault, body horror, reference to violence against animals, cannibalism, no smut yet sorry (that’s in part 3 heehee), obligatory club scenes, countless other cliches, please let me know if I’ve forgotten anything

Reader: vampire!reader, female!reader, not descriptive with reader’s appearance but I did give them a bit of personality and a backstory that I hope does not detract from the ability to self insert,,,, yeah I may have gone too hard on backstory

Other notes: Story takes place Fall of 2022,,,,Also big thanks to my irl bestie for his help identifying stray plot bunnies and big thanks to @joosthead for always encouraging me and giving me so much advice over time when it comes to writing! You’re amazing!!!

Word count: ~5,900

Real person fiction! Beware! 👻

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You’ve been so many places over the past few years but Amsterdam is a first.

The Netherlands club scene tickles you and Amsterdam is the center of it all. Bouncing from city to city and country to country has kept you sane but this place has you pausing for the first time in what feels like forever.

The energy of summer saturated the nightlife when you arrived and parties raged until the dawn. Festival season was loud and unignorable but even the mainstay clubs and bars were full to bursting for months on end. Anywhere a body could fit there was a party to accommodate.

Even now as long warm nights turn crisper and darker as summer turns to autumn, the Dutch party on and you find yourself carried away by the momentum they never seem to lose.

It’s easy to stay. Maybe it's just been long enough since you started all this that you feel like you can breathe normally. Maybe you're just far enough away.

Maybe it really is just something about Amsterdam.

You’re growing attached to this place. You dread the day you will have to leave.

He catches your eye at the club. You notice him first, of course. Can hear him from clear across the room despite the bone-rattling music and a hundred other people.

It’s a Friday night and you itch to be among the crowd. Close enough to feel like one of them and share in their moment. You wish it were yours. You will make it yours too, just like always. 

Something about the exact way he looks and the exact way he speaks to his group of friends is so striking you couldn't ignore him if you tried. He jokes with an open affection that just shouldn't be possible in words chosen so crass and shouted so loud. Never have you heard ‘cancer dick’ sound like an endearment. 

He is so yellow and pink and blue. Your three new favorite colors. Golden hair almost luminescent under the black lights. Cheeks as pink as his flashy jacket. Eyes bluer than the toxic looking drink in his hand.

You couldn't say whether or not he is conventionally handsome. The sight of him immediately fills a space in your brain you didn't know existed like a lock and key and bowls over your pre-existing notions of the word.

Every part of his face fits in perfect proportion to the rest in a way you have never seen and it has you floored.

There's nothing unusual about it, nothing you can put your finger on, just something absolutely entrancing. 

He isn't just beautiful either. That perfect face is radiating an attitude like no one else in the room. No one else looks as happy, as carefree, as genuinely joyous. You can hear it in his words, see it in how he dances like he doesn't care who is watching. You can tell he doesn't. 

How long has it been since you felt such strong attraction? It makes you stupidly nostalgic for how simple things like this might have been when you were human.

You could have flirted with him, danced with him, maybe even taken him home, gotten his number in the morning.

Now, he is everything you want, everything you want to be, and most definitely everything you can't have. 

Not like that at least. He wouldn't have you. 

He catches your gaze from across the floor. Yeah, you probably are staring aren’t you. But you don’t look away. One perk of your creature status is a much increased ability to not give a fuck. Even when you really really should. His eyes rove over you and his face breaks into what you would call a smirk. 

You want to see it fall as you bite a chunk out of him. 

Okay, time to leave. Better get out of here before you do something weird. Turning away, you weave through the crowd. You feel his eyes on you the whole way out.

Literally. Vampires can do that. 

The itch of his gaze evaporates as you step out the door and reach for a cigarette. Disgusting but necessary. Perfect for blotting out all the people-smells that you’re suddenly having a harder time than usual ignoring.

The first drag is fucking toxic but it’s immediately easier not to focus on the cocktail of male sex hormones the club atmosphere provided. You wonder which are his of the dozens dancing on your tongue. 

The overlap between sexual attraction and the urge to hold someone between your jaws still surprises you sometimes. Of course it isn’t always about sex. You could want to eat someone you hated just as bad. Most often it’s a complete stranger.

It’s like squares and rectangles. You might not think about fucking someone every time you need blood, but every time you do want to fuck, you also want to sink your teeth in. 

If you’re being honest though, this observation is based on fairly brief encounters with fairly drunk men. In reality, you haven’t gotten any in a while. Years in fact. Literal monster behavior seems to be a bit of a turn off for most men and sexy encounters always end the moment you get a good few gulps in and their struggling makes you start to feel guilty. 

You sigh. This is far from the first time you’ve wondered at this particular predicament. Why can’t a girl get some?

You flick the butt to the ground and grind it out with your heel. It’s about time to head home. You came out to have fun and you don’t actually need to feed right now. Even if you did, it would probably go poorly given the mood you’re in. 

You don’t have the archetypical problem of killing people when you feed, not that you’ve never killed anyone, but the trauma level for whichever poor person you choose on a given night can vary greatly depending on your state of mind and right now you’re feeling a little worked up. It might be more bloody than usual. 

Ideally, it’s always drunk people you feed on, as fucked up as that sounds, in the end they usually remember less. That or sleeping people.

God. So much noncon. 

But a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do. Blood banks actually ask a lot of questions and you’ve never felt like trying to intimidate a doctor into faking a condition for you, too afraid of catching their interest and becoming a science experiment.

There aren’t any vampires you've met yet that could point you in a helpful direction either. You never even got to know the vampire that turned you. 

The exact circumstances of your metamorphosis were actually a bit of a mystery. You had no memory of being bitten.

One night you came-to in the middle of the street, blocks away from where you should have been, shoulder bloody, and within the hour you were crawling out of your skin as you transformed. 

Outwardly, you looked no different, but that night your senses shifted and heightened and your bones and muscle tore apart and regrew stronger in far too short a time. 

It was a good thing you had been alone. You had been with your friends before. It was a girls night out catching the newest Spiderman in theaters.

Sitting there on the pavement, blood seeping into your shirt, you knew there was something off and you stumbled home without finding them. 

When you arrived you realized you were more than just in shock. It hurt. Everything hurt. You should have gone to the hospital. But how could you have known?

It came on fast.

By the time you knew there was something really wrong, you were too weak to make it anywhere in your agony. Too weak to even make it to your phone in your coat pocket hanging on the door. 

In the end, you are glad no one got to witness what happened. What you are sure would have been beyond explanation. The sight of your own flesh writhing under your skin is unforgettable. The tiles of the kitchen floor where you collapsed took days to clean. 

The only thing that kept you from totally freaking out in the moments afterward was the insane thought that maybe you had become Spiderman. As stupid as that sounds.

Not that you were a hero or anything.

That much was clear from the beginning when you stumbled outside to rip into the dog in the yard across the street after realizing you could hear your neighbors through the wall and it was making your mouth water. 

Dogs are disgusting. At least it didn’t die. 

You still watch Spiderman now and then on the days you're feeling a tad existential. Honestly, you wish you could be Spiderman. You don’t really know what you are.

Your heart still beats and you definitely don't sparkle, but your canines are extendable and people really do look delicious sometimes. You feel the need to feed on people but no one you've ever fed on has turned. You checked.

It would be nice if whoever bit you had stuck around to talk it out. In the end, vampire just seemed like the best word for it. 

Never mind the flesh eating part. 

What were you saying? Oh yeah, if you try and find someone drunk enough to not notice a little bite right now, you might accidentally decapitate them. A slight exaggeration, but still. 

The worn cobblestones glitter under the amber lamplights as you make your way down the street towards the tram stop, still thinking about that perfect face.

The breeze carries a real hint of chill now, letting go of the last traces of your favorite summer since you started all this.

The shadows on the water are deeper than you remember ever seeing them. They creep up over the edges of the canals to fill the street and swallow the alley you turn down. 

You make it only a few feet before a group of guys round the opposite corner and take up the entire width of the passage.

Even with the knowledge that they would ultimately move to the side, you don’t want to deal with the urges they might inspire in such a tight space. Not right now.

Somehow you’re only feeling more and more keyed up.

Making a quick decision, you turn around to head back the way you came. The thumping of the bass becomes detectable as you near the club again, rattling you physically to match your internal agitation. 

You round the corner to try going up the other street this time and collide harshly with the exact person you had been looking to get away from. 

What was even the point of being a vampire if you couldn’t avoid clumsy moments like these?

 You take a step back as you raise your hands up slightly in a placating gesture. 

“Het spijt me,” you say trying to dodge around him quickly as his scent absolutely floods your senses. 

Fuck, he smells good. 

The general mixed smells of horny male in the club had been enough when looking at him before, but here and now, you realize you are in real trouble. The way he smells itches something deep in you. You want to fuck him. You also want to bite him. Hard.

Go now. Leave.

He spins as if to follow you as you skirt around him. 

“No problem! Hey I saw you earlier, are you leaving already?” He says in perfect English. He must think you’re a tourist. Technically, you kind of are. 

“Is my accent that bad?” you say, pausing in step to look at him. 

What the fuck are you thinking. You need to go right now. 

He grins. ”Haha, yes a little.” 

You can’t help yourself. You can tell he’s teasing. He was charming before from all the way across the room and he’s just as charming right now. All blond fluff and cheekbones and effortless charisma. You turn to face him fully.

“Well, yeah, I think I’m done for the night,” you say carefully. 

He leans in a little, opens his mouth to say something else, but stops dead when he sees what must be your eyes turning pitch black. 

You feel the subtle tug as it happens. The proximity to something so fucking potent as he leans forward pushes you over an edge you didnt even know was there. You’re literally engaging night vision like you’re going to hunt him or something. Ridiculous. You haven't had this problem in years. 

“Fuck!” he stumbles back. “Your eyes! A-Are you…….What!?” 

You’re still just standing there and you can tell he doesn’t know what to say. For as much as pop culture loves the supernatural, no one is ever actually prepared to encounter it.

You can tell he isn’t drunk enough to forget what he’s seeing right now but once again you don’t care like you probably should.

You allow your gaze to flit from his shocked stare down to his lips and then, after a moment, to his throat. When you look up again, it’s obvious he’s blushing. His eyes have become so dark they could rival your own if it weren't for the sclera.

Less than a second later, the smell of his arousal hits you.

What the fuck?

It stirs you more intensely than you thought possible and you know it's now or never. Leave or absolutely traumatize this beautiful stranger. 

You summon all your willpower and turn tail and run.

You don’t even try to conceal your speed. It's dark enough and the risk has to be taken if you stand any chance of getting far enough away to save the situation by the time that willpower runs out. 

Besides, he’s already seen you. 

By the time you reach your street you’re panting. God, that was like four kilometers. Whatever fresh Twilight bullshit that says vampires never run out of stamina is just wrong. You may have done it in a nice neat ten minutes but still, that was rough.

The burning in your chest has you feeling decidedly less sexy and you walk the rest of the way home. 

Home was a small apartment you had found on the edge of the city where you could afford to not have a roommate and the landlady let you pay month by month instead of signing on for a whole year. It was always hard finding places like that.

In the few months you had been there not one of your neighbors was especially loud or smelly or nosey and you counted it a lucky find. It was a perfect spot really, and you were glad it was within your budget.

You had been working remote for the duration of your worldly travels. Even if things got tight sometimes, it was a good enough paying job and you wouldn't trade it for anything since it allowed you to move around when you wanted.

After your great murderous fuck-up, you had found it was very soothing to be out of country, even if you were sure no one was onto you. 

It would be pretty hard to pin anything on you with no body.

As far as you know, the poor guy is still considered missing. Well, you say ‘poor guy,’ but the guy was kind of an asshole. You had never been drugged before, but you could tell for him it was a practiced routine.

The horror of the night started at the bar at the local theater. Not a place you had thought to be on your guard. You were there with a few friends in full costume to catch this month's performance of Rocky Horror.

It was intermission and you were all milling about refilling drinks and stretching your legs and fighting to fit as many people at once into the lone photo booth in the corner. The bar was small and you did not expect to stop there for longer than it took to get a new beer. 

He came up next to you, too close from the get-go considering there was no one else standing there, and made conversation while he had you captive waiting for your drink.

He wasn’t from around there, was visiting he said, and wanted to know what people do for fun. You could tell he really meant he wanted to know what fun he could have with you.

As forward as he was, it wasn't unusually pushy and you were ultimately unbothered when you broke away to find your friends. You never even saw how he managed to dose you. 

You never found your friends.

You don’t even remember how you made it to his car. 

One minute you were walking back to your seat and the next, you were outside. It was cold. Someone was carrying you bridal style.

You were pretty out of it for a good minute. Not sure how long exactly, but long enough that when you started processing things again, you were pulling up by the side of the road near a cow pasture.

He clearly thought you were still out of it because he removed his hand from your thigh, cut the engine, and got out to go around to open your door without a word. 

God knows what he had in mind for you that night, but you never found out because as it happens, he was right, you were still kind of out of it. Not like he had intended, your metabolism already working through a dose surely meant to incapacitate, but you were still loopy enough that logic was miles away and a cold and creeping dread began to fill you as you realized your situation.

The inability to think clearly, though it was getting better with each second, was only more agitating. 

It didn't even occur to you at the time that he stood no chance, that this was all ridiculous. You had been different for too short a time back then.

He was a threat, and one way or another you were about to respond. 

He opened your door. 

You had never felt the kind of fear-panic-rage before that you did in that moment. 

You were up in a flash as soon as he opened it wide enough and dragged him with you into the field.

Your strength was unexpected and his last words were no more than a surprised shout before you ripped his throat out and drank.

Each time he thrashed, the panic fought to overwhelm you and you drank faster to quiet him. He couldn't hurt you if you made him stop moving. 

When he ran dry, the panic-rage still burned and it seemed only natural to take a bite. A real bite. You had to make sure he stopped. 

So you did. 

And then another bite. 

And another and another and before you knew it, he had no head. 

Then, he had no arm and then soon, he only had a leg. 

The only thing you didn’t eat was his clothes. 

When light started to creep over the horizon, you finally came out of your state. You felt both calm and horrified. The threat was gone, but you also didn’t know you could do that. Where did it all go? Forget the size of your stomach, your entire body couldn’t have fit his inside of it. 

It was a little startling at the time. 

You burned his clothes and drove his car to the bottom of a lake. It might have been enough, probably was, but after that you didn’t stick around long to find out.

All this was to say that you enjoyed where you were now. It had been a good couple of years and you were now only vaguely disturbed about your latent abilities. You had even gotten back to the point where you were going back to bars and clubs again!

There was a time when you stayed away after that. You had been slow to return to enjoying nightlife, but Berlin had done wonders in that department and Amsterdam only solidified it. There was something about the Dutch brand of party that made you feel alive.

Tonight put a slight damper on that feeling of progress though. You’re not sure what you would have done to that guy if you hadn't left that very second.

Even if the situation was entirely different, it was the first time since that disastrous night that you have felt so out of control.

You can’t say you felt particularly murderous but you did want to hurt him in ways that make you blush a little now as you trudge up the steps to your door and wrestle with your keys. 

Ugh. You can never repeat that night. 

You will have self control. 

You do have self control. 

Mostly. 

You should just calm down already. As you bolt the door and slip off your shoes, you resolve to make tea and forget about it. Besides, you didn’t really do anything and no one will ever believe him. 

The next day finds you completely normal and you spend your time working. You had a good night's sleep all things considered.

It’s such a good thing that vampires can sleep. Sure, maybe you would get more done if you didn’t, but honestly you think you would go crazy. You love your comfy little nest and you love turning your brain off. It needed to be turned off after that encounter. 

By next week, the entire thing is forgotten (filthy lie) and you feel like it is high time for another visit to the club. Boredom is killer and you can't resist anyways. Last time was surely a one-off.

You do yourself up and make your way downtown. 

The street lamps reflect off the water and the countless neon signs of bars and restaurants give the streets an ethereal glow despite the shadows, deep as ever.

They scatter in in every direction, multiplying in protest of the city lights and gathering themselves to obscure every corner.

The pounding bass spills out the door of every club you pass and the carefree Friday night energy of every person wandering the streets is tangible. 

Amsterdam is so awesome. 

You purposefully choose a new spot you found on Instagram, hoping to avoid running into him again.

You’ve never been big on social media, but ever since your life took you on the road it became critical to your navigation of the world. It took some getting used to, especially with no one in your life to ask more than superficial questions, but you figured it out. 

It still startles you occasionally just how non tech-savvy you can be. It’s not usually an issue but when you forget how to convert file types or struggle to navigate online forums you can't deny you’re a little behind the curve. Honestly, you might as well be a vampire from the 17th century not the 21st. One hidden away in a decaying manor far from modern technology. 

An exaggeration, but it really feels that way sometimes. 

You often pat yourself on the back for learning how to use the software necessary to do your job. Your career hadn’t required it of you before and it was only due to the fuckass pandemic that it had become an option. Now that you had the tech down it was very convenient to be able to do your job virtually.

That had been one of your biggest concerns in the beginning. How were you gonna fund your life on the run if you had to constantly search for new employment? 

When you get to the club it is delightfully similar to the photos and you spend your evening rotating between dancing your ass off and people-watching from the side when the smells and jostling get a little too exciting.

Yes, the club is exciting. The right amount this time around. You feel like a real young adult. You give yourself another pat on the back for your foray into normalcy.

It’s a smaller club on Lange Leidsedwarsstraat. By no means tucked away, but far enough from Leidseplein main square that there are far fewer tourists.

The ice is starting to melt in your drink. You can’t be bothered with it when there is so much to look at.

There can't be more than fifty people crammed in this tiny renovated warehouse but they manage to sport a variety of fashion and dance styles. Inevitably, you spot hakken amongst them. The tangle of decks and mixers on the small raised stage is huge and the lone DJ operating it all glows in alternating colors as lights strobe from behind to scatter over the crowd.

You work your way out of the corner and back onto the dance floor again. The upbeat song playing now hits just the right vibe for how you’re feeling. 

Doe de Fryslân bop

Wist je niet dat ik van Fryslân kom?

Dude, doe de Fryslân bop

Blaas het op als een fietsbandpomp

You bop along for a minute as the song demands and notice a group of several people shouting along much louder than everyone else. They seem to know every word.

One of them facing away from you turns in place as he dances and suddenly you’re locking eyes with the exact same guy. 

Jesus Christ, what are the odds. 

Well, maybe not terrible odds if you consider he’s probably a local. 

But still. Goddammit. 

His face instantly lights up and it would be kind of cute if you weren’t panicking. Those baby blues pack a punch. What happened to not giving a fuck?

Before you can move a single muscle to make your retreat, he is surging towards you through the crowd and  o h   s h i t   you did not expect that.

You thought he’d be running too. Even if he had been surprisingly horny in the face of inhuman eyes, you figured the freakish speed there at the end would have been enough to spook him.

Shocked, you fail to stop him from grabbing your wrist like he can tell you’re gonna make a break for it again. Vampire reflexes who? You open your mouth to protest but before you can say anything he leans in and bites your shoulder.  

What.

WHAT?

You realize you’re shouting it as he pulls away laughing. 

“Fancy seeing you here!” He is way too happy.

“You bit me!”

“Are you gonna bite me back?” 

“What!?”

“C’mon, I know you want to.” The way he waggles his eyebrows should not be attractive. It is.

“Excuse me?!”

“I’ve watched enough tv to know a bloodsucker when I see one.” He looks stupidly smug.

“Yeah, tv. You should probably stop watching so much.”

“Your eyes were beautiful y’know.” You feel your own heart stutter.

“I think you had too much to drink.”

“Please, that was not drunk at all, you should have seen how we ended the night!”

“Yeah, you definitely were. But you’re joking, right? You should know most girls aren’t into roleplay right off the bat.” Maybe you can embarrass him into leaving you be. 

He scoffs and brings his other hand to the back of your head so he can pull you in as he leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Why did you run?”

You can tell he’s deliberately holding your face close to his throat and god damn him, you know what he is trying to achieve and it works. This close to the source, the other smells of the club can’t run interference.

His presence is just as overwhelming as the first time and the smell of his skin and the thump of his heart is so close now you can’t help your reaction once again.

You feel the familiar tug behind your eyes and the shadows of the room start to melt away. The little silver chain sitting against his clavicles snaps into perfect definition.

He pulls away to gauge your reaction, the sly motherfucker, but his grin melts into stupefied wonder when he sees exactly what he had hoped for. 

“There it is.” He whispers. His heart is beating harder than ever and his scent rushes forward to envelop you even though you are no longer pressed to his neck. He smells like adrenaline. He smells like arousal.

You pout as he drinks you in. He pulled a fast one on you. 

Realizing he’s still holding your wrist, you flex in warning. He grips tighter like he’s afraid to let you go.

“C’mon, I’m not gonna go around gathering a mob with torches and pitchforks, what’s the big deal?”

You hold his gaze. You remember very well what the big deal is. What you are capable of when emotions are this high. He has you feeling something, alright.

But, you have to admit, even though everything about his presence is sending you into the stratosphere, it is nothing like that night. This feeling, albeit intense, is a good one. 

When was the last time someone talked to you like this? After seeing what you were? Never. Maybe you overreacted before. Maybe you can control yourself. As much as you want to rip into his shoulder you're not doing it. You‘re enjoying looking at him too much.

He really is beautiful.

Right now it doesn't feel like you're in danger of a big deal 2.0. Just maybe something equally stupid.

“You know I’ll have to kill you if you out me right?” You look over at the rest of his group where they are still dancing. 

His eyes widen at your indirect confirmation- you are a vampire. His grip becomes stiff and you finally get a whiff of fear. Good. Even if you’re lying, he should know who he’s dealing with. 

He stutters a bit, “I-I told some of my friends I saw something crazy, but they don’t believe me I swear! They just think I was drunk! Like you said!” 

God, he’s outing himself already. He’s so lucky you’re not actually evil. You just laugh and begin swaying to the beat again. You break his hold on your wrist effortlessly now, just a hint of real strength, so you can grab his hand instead. 

“Don’t worry, I’m just teasing. Dance with me?”

Even in the low lighting of the club, you can tell with your shifted vision how hard he’s blushing. In spite of his fear, he smells like he’s ready to fuck you pregnant. 

God, he’s a freak. 

You love it.

He acquiesces after a stunned moment and begins to bounce along with you. After a minute, you see him start mouthing the lyrics and it strikes you again how well he seems to know them. 

“A favorite of yours?” you say. 

”I wrote it!” he exclaims, leaning in. “You like?” 

“Did you really?” You are genuinely skeptical.

He scoffs. “I did! I am huge Netherlands artiest, don’t you know Joost Klein? Also, I know the DJ so he plays my stuff.” You hear humor in his voice but you don’t know what part is a joke.

Joost Klein. Huh. You have never heard that name in your life.

“Wow, I feel so lucky to meet a celebrity.” You bat your eyes at him.

He clocks your bullshit immediately.

“Really! I can show you my stuff! Come to my studio and I’ll show you what I’m working on!” 

You smirk. You are really dancing quite closely now. 

“Wow I dunno, I never usually let boys show me their stuff on the first date.”

He chokes out a laugh “So this is a date huh?” his hands are on your waist now.

“I don’t know yet” You say. “Dance with me some more.” 

Because you are insane, you turn around and lean up against him. The music is a little slower and heavier now than the alt-pop rap playing before. Joost gets the message immediately and soon you’re grinding to the beat. Already, you can feel his bulge against your ass.

You let yourself get lost in the rhythm of the music and the feeling of him against you. It's easy to lose time when his scent and his touch surround you like this. You could almost forget the itch in your canines. 

His head bows and his lips skim your shoulder where he bit you. What a strange sensation. A role reversal. You still can't believe he did that. For a minute, you feel strikingly human.

You arch up into him and let your head fall back against his chest. His lips move up to your ear and he asks, “Can I have your number?” You twist yourself back around to face him. 

It’s getting harder not to just kiss him. 

You maintain eye contact for a minute, his gaze searching yours.

Without breaking the stare-down, you reach into his pocket oh-so-slowly and pull out his phone, offering it to him.

He is starting to look a little crazed but he breaks the eye contact to look down and open it for you. You punch in your number when he turns it to you and slide it back into his pocket, just as slowly. 

Hooking a finger into his belt loop, you look up at him under your lashes. Joost looks like he doesn’t know whether to fuck you now or fuck you later. If he can wait to get you home.

You don’t let him deliberate. 

Leaning up, you ghost your lips over his. “See you soon.” 

And with all the stupid supernatural guile you can muster, you sink backwards into the crowd and disappear. The last glimpse you catch of his face is one of outrage. 

You laugh all the way down the street. 

A side street without lamps lends the shadows you need for cover as you give it just a bit of a speed boost in case he gets the idea to go looking for you again. Lord knows you’ve bumped into him enough times now that he might think to try it. 

You aren’t even to the end of the street before you get a text.

        +31 06 5337496:  y r u so mean to me ( ｰ̀εｰ́ )

          +31 06 5337496:  when will you come to my studio?

          +31 06 5337496: ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

You're still not sure what he really means by studio. Maybe it was a joke for his apartment. A studio apartment? Or maybe he really does make music. That would be fun. Not that you know much about Dutch music. Or Dutch. You sigh. It’s a process. 

Saving his number you write back.

        cap

          I am not mean

          had to get out of there before you turned full blood-                 

          sucker on me biting my shoulder like that

          Tuesday? 

The dot-dot-dot pops up and goes away no less than seven times before he finally replies.

          Joost:  (/>w<)/ yayyyy can’t wait!!

           Joost:  meet me at 16 Schimmelstraat at 14:00 :333

You can't help but snort at the way he texts. Definitely a funny guy. You have such good taste. 

It took him quite a while to respond compared to the speed at which he first texted you. You might be technologically illiterate, but even you know that means Joost had to think about something a little harder.

He does seem to get flustered by everything vampiric. Oh this was going to be so much fun.

On the other hand, Joost might just be a slow texter. 

You know where you would place your bet. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Thank you so much for reading!! Sorry for the atrocious amount of backstory. I didn't realize what I’d done until it was too late (and I didn’t want to rewrite). I promise the next one will be more Joost-centric interaction and less boring exposition. Btw this series will include smut! Yay!!

[starflirts]

NO GRAVE CAN HOLD MY BODY DOWN (I'LL CRAWL HOME TO HER)

in which luke is determined to keep you close to him forever. luke castellan x fem! reader, wc: 1.36k, warning: swearing, note: first post dedicated to my favorite villain... enjoy !

"Wha-... what the fuck are you talking about Luke ?" From the edge of his bunk bed, your boyfriend avoids your stare, looking anywhere but at your face. "Look at me ! You can't just drop this upon me and act like nothing is happening !" He can hear the hurt and the confusion in your voice and decides to get closer to you. He wants to hold you tight and never let you go but settles for holding your hand.

"Babe, listen to me. please." He’s the one to look at you with pleading eyes this time, one hand circling yours and the other resting on the nape of your neck. "You know how much I hate Olympus and how they toy with us just for their own benefit. I know you feel the same way, watching kids barely getting here safely only to never be claimed or only when their parent deems it convenient ! Do you think it's fair ? To be used as a puppet so you can finally be worthy in the eyes of mom or dad ? Risking your life to fix their shortcomings ?"

His emphasis on dad doesn't intrigue you, you already know. Everyone knows. His eyes are full of resentment and his scar seems so red, a stark contrast with the unmarred skin. Luke goes on and on about his supposedly great plan and you can only watch in horror as the boy in front of you looks nothing like the one you fell in love summers ago.

Hand reaching for the one still laid on your nape, you look up, brows furrowed. "Does Annabeth know ?"

These three words are enough to make him flinch. He opens and closes his mouth and that tells you everything you need to know. Your face twists with disgust and anger as you shove his shoulder enough for him to stumble back, away from you.

"Fuck off Luke !" you spit, tears cornering at your lash line. "How dare you turn your back on your little sister, on me ?" Your voice cracks but you try to put up a brave front, wiping the corner of your eyes. You can only stare at him in disbelief, even though your hands itch to bring him closer to you, to hold him and to at least try to understand his sudden change of heart.

Luke attempts to step forward but you pull back and he can hear his own heart breaking. He runs a hand over his face before answering you with a shaky sigh: "Look, I’m doing this for everyone at camp, for us ! I want us to live free of that burden. We deserve so much more than what the gods have to give !" His voice falters and he clears his throat. "I don't want to wake up one morning and find out you're gone because of them, because you went on a stupid quest for the sake of your parent who can't even bother to acknowledge you !" He looks at you fondly and sighs. "Do you remember the time I came back from the quest Hermes sent me on ? You were so scared something had happened to me. I can't let that happen again. I can't let that happen to you. I want to protect you, to protect us ! You- you're all I have."

Tears fall freely as you shake your head, hugging yourself in an attempt to calm down. "There’s got to be another way, you can’t… You can’t do this Luke ! I-" you sob.

And you feel so afraid yet you don’t know whether you’re more scared of Luke himself or of the thought of losing him to something this insane. The cogs in your brain turn and turn but you can't bring yourself to drive him out of your life, not when you've seen him at his best and at his worst, when you've been by his side for so long you can't even remember.

In a few steps, Luke is engulfing you in a hug and all resolve you had to push him away crumbles within seconds. He rests his chin on the crown of your head while you cling to his shirt. He holds you tight, as if the mere thought of you walking out of his cabin would become true and you might vanish with the wind.

"Hey hey, it’s okay, we’ll… we’ll figure it out, we still have time." he whispers in your ear and you want to believe him, you really do.

Slightly pulling back, he rests his forehead against yours, hands coming up to cup your face. With a sad smile, Luke's thumbs wipe your tearstained cheeks.

"There, don't cry," he tells you softly, "my pretty, pretty girl. You know I'll never let you go right ? I love you too much to be able to live without you."

His smile is genuine as his hand cautiously takes your own to place it on his chest, right where you can feel his heartbeat. "You’re here, always and forever, no matter what."

Luke's world had crumbled a long time ago, ever since he realized the gods were monsters in disguise. But now that he has you in his life, whatever's left of that sparkle of hope he had when he was fourteen (and when the world seemed so big yet so full of chances) shines brighter. You were the one who rebuilt everything from scratch, who fixed the gaping hole in his heart.

Your free hand comes up to brush his cheek, thumb trailing his scar. You wish you could close your eyes and pretend that the world isn't on the brink of disaster, that your Luke isn't about to change its course.

The love of your life starts again: "I'll be with you at any cost, believe me. And if anyone, so much as the gods or that new forbidden kid attempt to separate us, I'll walk- heck I'll drag myself back to you !"

His promise is sealed with a kiss and you're certain you'd follow him in a heartbeat: "for better or worse ?" you ask in a small voice, lips hovering over his.

He answers you with a smile and shiny eyes: "for better or worse."

[somethingusefulfromflorida]

I just discovered Swadesh Lists, lists of 100 or 200 basic words that tend not to change over time as the rest of the language evolves. I got really into conlangs in high school and college, and this is a resouce I wish I'd known about back then. This link includes lists from 200 languages, modern and historical, including reconstructions of proto-languages and the more well known conlangs. This is the perfect way to compare cognates around the world and see how different consonants shift from predecessor to successor and across relatives in the same families. I'm an amateur so I can't appreciate them all in the same ways a linguistic scholar could, but this scratches an itch in my brain I didn't realize I've had for years.

I think I'm gonna try my hand at conlanging again. My first attempt, something like 10 or 12 years ago, was essentially just English replaced with vaguely Latin sounding gibberish. This was probably like five laptops ago, I doubt I still even have a copy anywhere, but if I can find it I'll post some of it here.

[essential-oils234]

Writing 101: Tips and tricks for experienced authors to novice ones, or just a little reading for anyone who wants to learn something new.

Have you ever gotten into a slump where writing feels like a failed career and nothing you write ever seems to turn out well? (I know I have). Maybe you're itching to write something, it's been so long since you've looked at your notebooks of inspiration or google docs of madness. Maybe you just don't know where to start, and it feels like you've failed before you even begun.

Well, I have a few tips that just might remedy that!

(I'm in no way an experienced writer. I've read a lot of books, watched a lot of character analyses on Youtube, but I'm only at the start of my writing journey. So please don't take this to be expert advice and don't feel disheartened if my methods don't work for you. Everyone has a unique style of writing, and it's only through trial-and-error that you can really begin to find yours too.)

So, without further ado, here are some tips and tricks that helped me organize my thoughts and plan out chapters, develop my characters, and resist the call of procrastination.

------

"What do I want from this story?"

It's a question that sounds elusively simple, but it's one that's more tricky to answer. For me, at least, it's hard to pinpoint a few ideas that manage to encapsulate what I want the readers to feel or understand from my story. It's even harder when I try to summarize my thoughts into broad themes/ideas, such as love, compassion, hard work, etc.

I usually start a story on the basis of something really small, and then I work out from there. For example, I'm currently working on a Genshin Impact fic that I only started writing after watching an animatic. An animatic. (The link will be at the end of this post, if you guys want to check it out and show some love to the creator.)

A whole freaking story started on the basis of an animatic that is 1 minute and 41 seconds long. It's kinda crazy how that worked out. But in a way, it makes sense. The biggest creations start from small, simple ideas that slowly grow over time.

What I'm trying to say is: don't disregard those silly little ideas that you think don't hold much importance over trying to figure out the big, important plot. Oftentimes, it's those silly little ideas that make up the big important plot. So I'd advise you to turn to a blank page or start a new google doc and write that question at the top. "What do I want from this story?" Your answers could be anything, from little details like "he goes back to his birthplace to confront his family" or more broad ideas like "they have a conversation about loss and how to cope with that". Bullet points or sentences, whatever you choose, this is your dumping ground for all the stupid ideas you have that might not ever make it into your story. The point of the question is to exercise your mind and get it thinking about the main plot, as well as a helpful organization tool for all those scattered thoughts that don't really fit anywhere else.

2. "What if I can't start writing a story because I just don't have any ideas?"

That is a harder question to answer, since writer's block has a multitude of solutions that work for some people and don't for others. My advice is, keep focusing on the small things, since it essentially forces you to start minimally and branch out from there. Inspiration is all over the internet, and those small ideas can help jumpstart your brain into creating something new. If you see a few posts about 'cottagecore' on Pinterest and that inspires you to write a fantasy story about witches, then go for it! If you read a book and want to write something similar, except with a different ending, go ahead! (Except if you're posting it on the internet, please credit the original creator.)

Don't feel guilty for "stealing someone else's idea" or mad at yourself for "not being able to come up with anything original". We all have to start somewhere, and it's okay if what you write isn't completely novel. (That's what fanfiction is for, after all!)

Oftentimes, our brain puts us in a corner where we convince ourselves that we just can't write anything because we don't have any ideas. Maybe that's true, but the thing about writer's block is that you really won't have any ideas unless you start actively thinking about potential plots or characters. Searching up 'writing prompts' on Tumblr will no doubt feed you with a slew of interesting ideas that you can build off from there, and Pinterest is a gold-mine of creativity. The main thing, of course, is to have fun in the process. In the end, the person who you're really writing for is yourself.

3. "Okay, I have a few ideas and plot points, but what about organizing it? How do I go about organizing a multi-chapter story?"

This question is from people who are mainly like me, who like organizing their chapters out before they actually write them. It's good to have a reference point to come back to if you take a writing hiatus, and it's just nice having everything jotted down somewhere I can easily find.

I'm not going to get too specific here, since everyone has their own way of writing notes, but after I have a bunch of main ideas that more or less make up the whole plot, I start narrowing those ideas down into chapters. I have sections of bullet-points for each chapter, which have general ideas that aren't too specific, since I tend to figure out the specifics as I'm writing. (ex. He has a flashback that shows his past before switching back to the present) If you're a person who's pretty gung-ho about these things, you might lean towards the idea of "figuring it out as you go along". If you're super organizational, your chapter notes might go down to the most minute detail before you actually start writing.

I also have a few 'braindump' sections that are pretty much like the "What do I want from this story?" notes, except they're a bit more relevant to the plot instead of just random details and dialogue I want to insert sooner or later. I also have sections where I write about important themes in my story that require further elaboration (ex. the concept of morality, what it means to be human, etc.) It's important to flesh out these ideas beforehand so you have a good idea of how to show these underlying themes in your actual story.

Last but not least, please, please, please flesh out your characters before you start writing a story. It's honestly my least favorite part of writing, but it's incredibly important because your characters are what makes up your story. A good story is known from it's good characters. I, personally, create lists of traits/flaws for my main characters so I can, as a writer, understand them better and know how to show their personalities in writing. I also write lists of attributes before and after they go through ✨character development✨ so I can understand how they've changed and grown and start formulating ideas on how to show that in my writing.

------

So, we've reached the end! Yay, that took way too long and I didn't even get to talk about procrastination!!🎉🎉 Hopefully, this will not be the first and last 'Writing 101', since there's plenty more I'd like to talk about and plenty more to learn. If you have any questions or anything you want me to talk about next, don't hesitate to drop a comment or ask me anything! I'll try to answer to the best of my abilities. If you liked this post, please leave a like or a comment. It's really motivating and just feels great to know if people like my content.

(Here's the link to the animatic I mentioned earlier: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REBxGWSMRn4. It's been a huge source of inspiration for my writing and art, and the person who made it is insanely talented. If you're into Genshin Impact or just want to see some good art, go check out their other animations and comment/leave a like!)

I hope your writing journey is nothing short of spectacular and creatively amazing, and I'll see you in the next one!

[ay0nha]

Dead Man Walking | Tommy Miller

SUMMARY: “May as well ask it, sweetheart.” Tommy caught your eye and saw the way you were contemplating every aspect of his being. You hardly knew him. He was convincing, though. Talked of a place that would take you in, no questions asked. A place that sounded disgustingly beautiful. 

PAIRING: Tommy Miller x femme!reader

WORD COUNT: 2K

WARNINGS: not too much, pretty fluff/angst oriented, canon-typical things (infected, firearms, etc.), talk of eating/food, etc.

A/N: I couldn’t resist. Look at him. It isn’t anything crazy, a short lil sm sm for fun that’s pretty self-indulgent. This is dedicated to @from-the-clouds​ who helped me tremendously and has a genius brain for ideas!

 Part II

The wind chill kept you static. It made your bones ache with every movement of the horse. But you were grateful that you no longer had to endure it on foot. Or alone.

There was little energy left in your body to keep yourself upright. Tommy could feel how your body threatened to cave and noted how you fought against it as best you could.

“No point in being stubborn.” Tommy’s voice rumbled against your chest as you moved away. The inconsistent conversation shared helped you rally but made you tense with uncertainty. “I’m just as cold as you are.”

Your effort to ignore him dwindled, and so did your willpower to argue. He was insistent on your comfort, offering his waist for warmth and support.

With a confident hand on the reign, Tommy reached for your own, pulling you tightly to him. At first, your grip around him was tight, as if you’d fall. Even with the thick fabric between you and him, the warmth seeped into you instantly.

You meant to keep to yourself, but your sigh was telling of the relief Tommy provided. Days passed with a chill you couldn’t shake and exhaustion that you refused to let consume you.

“We’ll go a little bit further before stoppin’.” Tommy was almost as tired as you, but he held more drive. Maintaining the steady pace of the horse, he almost cursed the weather. “Don’t think I’ll ever get used to this cold.”

To be afraid wasn’t strange; fear abounded in your dreams. So you stayed awake, resting your cheek between Tommy’s shoulder blades with some introspection. He appreciated the weight; it was something cathartic.

He provided information about himself easily. It rolled off his tongue as if he was with a lifelong friend. You wanted to hold the same ease, but your voice felt hard to find. You were uneasy; Tommy could sense it.  It’s why he always continued to fill the silence.

“You know, I’d kill for a cigarette.” Tommy hummed as if talking to himself, perfectly content. That familiar itch called him back before it all. “Probably best I haven’t gotten my hands on a pack in a while.”

The image suited him well—a smoking cowboy.

Tommy rambled on. He doesn’t know how much you understood, but you thought it was a reasonable bit of nonsense. It helped weave a dream of before as you finally succumbed to sleep.

“Oh, yeah.” Tommy nodded, talking through the cigarette that muffled his words. You could hear the brief inhale of smoke before he continued, "You and me, we're gonna get married."

You laughed as you found your balance on the hood of his truck, "You sound so sure of yourself."

"Can't you see it?" He plucked the cigarette from his lips to be heard clearly. Tone genuine, he held out his hand as if explaining an elaborate painting, "You and me with a couple of kids, not too many- We don't want to be outnumbered..."

"I’m not even sure I want kids." You humored him honestly as he held up his lighter for the cigarette you had bummed.

With the lighter secure in his jacket pocket, Tommy had already devised a solution, "That's fine, then we can get a dog and live anywhere. Anywhere but here. How's that sound?"

"I don't know…" You rhythmically tapped the ash off the tip of the cigarette. You had no idea where you truly were, but you couldn’t stop the confession, "I'm quite partial to this town."

"We can always talk about that in the future," Tommy shrugged, enjoying the amusement he pulled from you, "I want to show you Austin; I  think you'd love it."

"I've only just met you." Your smile mirrored his. "How would you know what I like?"

"I thought you might say that," He tutted lightly. Tommy imagined it all, played out every scenario, and there you were. It had just made sense. "Let's say it's a hunch."

You flicked your cigarette  to the ground before stepping on it firmly. Hands occupied in the pockets of your jacket, you took a moment to study him. He was handsome, no doubt, and used it to his advantage, which to you, became his only disadvantage.

"Not convinced I can go solely based on a hunch."

—

Stay close.  

You latched onto Tommy moments after the coarse instruction. You were sure it was a hindrance, but pure fear dictated your every move.

The gunshot continued to ring in your ears, causing your breath to become tight in your chest. The snow crunched beneath every frantic step toward possible safety. The sound allured danger, meaning it was imperative to move fast and quietly.

“Are you hurt?”

You hardly heard the question over the cluster of infected you’d angered. The shrieking intensified and filled your senses. Tommy repeated his question, yet entirely focused on the path before him.

“Fine.” You faltered, finding your voice. “I’m fine.”

Your hands started to shake. Your gun was gone, forgotten as you fought for your life. Tommy’s horse was mangled beyond recognition, buried beneath a swarm of infected. Your options were becoming extremely limited.

“We’ve got to get to the water.” Tommy was steps ahead of you, already seeing the safety in his mind. Yet, his lightheartedness with you was gone, replaced by years of tactful experience.  “We can get leverage there.”

The formation of your relationship would have questioned how you followed Tommy so faithfully.  You were reluctant, but you were desperate. And now that desperation morphed into dependence for survival.

“I need you to stay focused now, okay?” Tommy spoke in hushed tones, eyes filtering the mess before you. Even the path of least resistance included immense risk. “When I move, you move.”

He led you purposefully, firing his gun only when necessary and using his strength to his advantage.  You felt useless beside him, watching as he ruthlessly cleared the path. But you were no longer controlling your body, moving only on instinct.

That’s when Tommy heard it. He halted, reaching to you again to backtrack the route. His mind turned, waiting to land on a useful thought. But you recognized the panic in his eyes.

“Shit. ”

The curses poured out swiftly. He needed to think.

“Tomm-

His hand was to your mouth, cutting his name short. The forceful silence filled you with fear as your back became met the tree bark. Tommy’s eyebrows were taut, eyes wide with a finger on his lips.

You heard it.

The trees groaned against the wind. Anything that resonated drove the clicker closer to where Tommy encased you in a protective hold.  Its movements twitched erratically, following any sound with a semblance of life.

As the pressure grew, you pulled him to your chest by the collar of his jacket. Your bodies were flesh together, unsteady breath mixing as you trembled under him.

You tried to hold it in, breathing evenly to suppress any sobbing urge. It was neither the time nor the place for added emotion. But the clicker was close, close enough that it would soon brush against Tommy’s collar. The very same one you held onto so desperately.

Your tears fell freely, sliding down until they met the palm of Tommy’s hand. You clenched your teeth so hard you bit your tongue and cried harder. Tommy could feel how they burned, how terrified you really were.  Your brain lagged when Tommy pulled the pistol from his waist.

In a fluid movement, he used it to deliver a lethal shot.

—

You were staring.

Tommy could feel the burning gaze on his profile since you settled by the fire. He remained quiet, but you stayed silent from the moment the clicking echoed in the dense forest.  

The fear refused to leave you, and the repeated question stayed on the tip of Tommy’s tongue. Are you alright?

Anger radiated off of you. If you spoke now, you knew it would be misdirected. Instead, you tore your eyes from him with indifference.

Tommy pulled at the bandana fastened around his neck, using his canteen to dose it with water. You watched him rub it along his face, around his neck and hands. He wasted more water to help the paisley pattern return to its original grungy white.

Your arm's length away requirement diminished the longer you spent with him, especially when he was habitually responsible for closing the distance. “C’mere.”

Although Tommy called you to him, he met you in your spot. You lifted your chin for him as he wiped off any remnants of what shook you. Maybe it was only symbolic, but it helped.

“I don’t trust you.”  

You had waited until his fingers rested on your chin to speak. Your voice didn’t even sound like your own. It was soft and airy as if it carried no weight, no life. Tommy’s eyebrows pulled together. He wasn’t confused but intrigued by your choice of words.

“Odd way to say thank you.”  Tommy stood with a sigh, bandanna forgotten as he threw it on his pack. Your eyes tracked him as he moved on to prepare the canned dinner.

“Who are you- How did-” Your head cocked to the side. The images of the hours prior were still fresh in your mind. How could he be so calm? “How did you do that?”

You said it yourself; you didn’t trust him. He saw something in your eyes; he believed you.

The past handful of weeks proved that. And yet, he knew you stuck around because he was your final option for survival.

“I was in the military.” Tommy resigned in the truth. He didn’t regret it but always wished things turned out differently.  “Joined right out of school, stayed until I didn’t have to anymore.”

“The military’s just a pipeline to FEDRA.” You spat your words. You found any reason to be upset at him. You wanted something to be wrong about the situation—a reason to run.

“You believe that?”  He picked at the food, eyeing, squinting just slightly to challenge you. There was always a catch. But he was slowly giving you a reason to believe there wasn’t. “You need to eat something.”

Adrenaline had numbed your body; your legs no longer ached from running, your mind felt blank, and all you felt was dread. Therefore, you failed to tally how long it had been since you ate, the way Tommy had.

You pushed the food around in the can you hadn’t noticed he passed along. You didn’t trust what your stomach could handle.

Tommy seemed so unbothered that it bothered you. His gaze was fixed on the sky, ankles crossed over one another, and fingers settled comfortably across his chest.  But the judgment didn’t go unnoticed.

“May as well ask it, sweetheart.”

Tommy caught your eye and saw the way you were contemplating every aspect of his being. You hardly knew him. He was convincing, though. Talked of a place that would take you in, no questions asked. A place that sounded disgustingly beautiful.

“You’re not from around here.” You commented, but you didn’t seem settled with the statement. Sweetheart. Naturally, it rolled off his tongue and paired perfectly with the accent. “Louisiana?”

The more he spoke, the thicker his drawl seemed to become. Maybe it was the stress that evoked it, but it certainly didn’t belong to the land you occupied. It was soft but detectable.  

“God, no.” He shook his head.  You were able to hear his laugh directly. It was fleeting, more  like a quick breath out the nose, but it was a laugh. “Texas.”

“So you’re a real cowboy, then.” You mused. There was a warmth to your words that wasn’t there before. There was a need to put it out, but you continued, “All this isn’t just for show.”

“Suppose not, no.”

It was then you understood Tommy. You clocked him easily; what he was like before it all. He was trouble, a magnet for mischief.  He was kindhearted at his core but had the ability to do so much more. He was dangerous, yet you’ve never felt more secure.

A chill crawled up your spine at the actualization. You didn’t know what to do with it but pause before offering an unorthodox thank you,  "...Empathy will get you killed."

"Then I'm a dead man walking."

[castlebyersafterdark]

I don't know! Why am I like this!!

hehehe ok firstly, shoutout to the peeps who can't watch panels due to the celebs, i can't relate but i feel for you! i struggle to watch them because of the awkwardness of the fans instead haha - awkward questions, silly questions, repetitive questions, people who burst into tears when they come to their turn. im sorry i just find that hard to watch lol! maybe its my inner journalist itching to be there and ask the real q's. or maybe im too british! pull yourself together, man! (said in a stiff military accent lmao) just kidding.

but as someone who used to find it harder than i do now to engage in this kind of content, my unsolicited advice that may not work for you is to really focus on being interested in what they have to say or are trying to say and what that might mean. then your brain kind of cuts out/dismisses the umming and ahhing, just sees it as a side effect instead of a tick or annoyance. obviously some speakers are worse than others but i honestly find most people in ST to be ok speakers, with the worst perhaps being finn. the others are all amenable and confident public speakers. i get the finn angst, it's never comfortable to see someone else who is uncomfortable... but he's fascinating, so i try to treat him as a fascinating person to observe when the empathy kicks in too hard and makes me want to hide lol.

which leads me to say vinny I AM HUGGING YOU RIGHT NOW! can't believe people were mean about you crying when another started crying - this is literally pure kind empathy at work and you are such a dreamboat for that. me and my whole family are the same, so i feel lucky to have had that experience. actually we used to be told not to cry as kids, only because my mum knew it would set her off too (she was already crying as she said it haha).

Yeah - good advice!! I really want to listen to what these actors have to say so it's a major power through moment every time!! And yeah, also not saying it to be mean but it's the fans primarily, but people can't help the reaction they have, and I know I'd fuck it up if I tried to ask something in public, which is why I never would. Actually, I'd try to be really funny and charming and it would fall completely flat and make me just seem like an ass so also, would never approach the mic at a con hahaha.

It's the same with live music or theater - I have this sinking fear in the pit of my stomach sometimes where as good as the show is, god if something goes wrong on stage and they flub lines and have trouble recovering or seriously mess-up a song or have a mishap, I would be dying inside and probably have a silent internal panic attack myself and wish I was anywhere else!! Get a grip, man, I am saying to myself!!!

And... thank you for the kind words. It's ok, I've manged to come out on the other side fine and unchanged, with people in my life who've made it known it's ok to be emotional, and be too much, and to feel deeply. And there's nothing wrong with being a guy who tears up a lot. (Part of what draws me to Will - I love him and I love his sensitivity and the way he feels so deeply. I've never seen a character like him before. Why when people complain about him being a crybaby it's a major 'shut up and let him be' moment from me! And Noah seems to also be similar so I feel kinship with that lovely guy). Listen. I grew up with 4 older brothers so. The little gay baby is my lot in life and it's totally fine now, but there was a lot of enduring bullshit growing up and breaking away from terrible friends and then finding people who let you be you. That's the goal in life. Find people who you can support and who will support you in turn, all sides. ❤️❤️❤️

[layce2015]

Supernatural (Dean Winchester x Female!Reader)

Two Minutes To Midnight

Masterlist pt 1

Masterlist pt 2

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Dean asked Sam while I run my hand over my eyes, upset. "Dean..." Sam tried to say, but Dean talks over him. "...No, don't 'Dean' me. I mean, you... you have had some stupid ideas in the past, But this." He growls then I turn to Bobby. "Did you know about this?" I asked Bobby as he wheels himself up in the kitchen doorway. "What?" Bobby asked. "About Sam's genius plan to say 'yes' to the devil?" Dean elaborated, angrily.

Bobby stares at him for a moment, then nods. "Well, thanks for the heads up!" Dean exclaimed, angrily. "Hey, this ain't about me." Bobby said and I turn to Sam. "You can't do this." I told Sam. "That's the consensus." Sam said, shrugging. "All right. Awesome. Then, end of discussion." Dean said.

At that moment his phone starts ringing. He takes it out while pointing at Sam. "This isn't over." He told his brother, then he answers his phone. "Hello?" he said then he stops. "Ariel?" Dean said, glancing to me and Sam. "Wait, you found Cas?" He said and I raise my head up at him. "Is he okay?" I asked him. Dean holds up his hand to me, telling me to wait. "Wait, let me put you on speaker." He said then he pulls the phone away from his ear, presses a button and holds it up.

"Okay...Where the hell are you guys?" Dean asked them. "A hospital." Ariel's voice said. "Is he okay?" Dean asked, worried. "No." She replied, simply. Dean waits for her to say more but she doesn't. "You want to elaborate?" Dean asked.

"He just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought he was brain-dead." Ariel explained. "S-so, a hospital?" Dean asked then we hear Cas' voice in the background. "Apparently, after Van Nuys, I suddenly appeared, bloody and unconscious, on a shrimping boat off Delacroix. I'm told it upset the sailors." Castiel explained.

"Uh, well, I got to tell you guys...You're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box." Dean said. "How?" Castiel and Ariel asked, while Cas grunts in pain. "It's a long story, but, look...we're going after Pestilence now. So if you guys want to zap over here..." Dean said.

"I can't zap anywhere." Castiel said. "What do you mean?" Dean asked. "You could say my batteries are...are drained." Castiel said. "What do you mean? You're out of angel mojo?" Dean asked. "I'm saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I'm saying that I'm just incredibly..." Castiel explained.

"Human. Wow. Sorry." Dean said. "I have enough power for both of us to get out of here but...I need to make sure Cas is well enough to travel." Ariel said. "You sure? Bobby can wire you guys the cash..." Dean said but Ariel talks over him. "No, we'll be fine. Like I said, if Cas is truly human, I need to make sure he gets properly checked over. Once we get cleared here, we'll come back." Ariel said. "Well, at least let Bobby send you some money to pay for the hospital stay." Dean said and Bobby narrows his eyes at him. "I will?" He asked as Dean was about to hang up his phone. 

"Dean, wait." Castiel said and Dean stopped. "Ariel told me you said no to Michael. I owe you an apology." Castiel said. "Cas...I-it's okay." Dean said, smiling a little. "You are not the burnt and broken shell of a man that I believed you to be." Castiel said and Dean pauses for a moment. "Thank you....I appreciate that." He said. "You're welcome." Castiel said and Ariel hangs up before Dean could say anything else.

Later, Sam, Dean, and I went outside and got into the Impala. "Be careful." Bobby tells us. We nodded and drive off to find Pestilence.

That night, the boys and I watch Serenity Valley Convalescent Home from the Impala. "So this is Dr. Evil's lair, huh?" Dean asked, lowering his binoculars. "It's kind of more depressing than evil." Sam said as we watch one of the nurses wheel an old man back into the building.

"It's like a four-color brochure for dying young. Of course, to Pestilence, it's probably Dollywood in there." I said. "Great. A whole building full of people. We don't know who's human, who's demon, and who's Pestilence. So what do we do?" Sam asked. "Hang on." Dean said and he looks through his binoculars again.

Minutes later, we enter the building and found the security room door, which Dean opens the door and poke his head in. "Hey. Hi. Uh, I'm looking for my Nana. Uh, her name is Eunice Kennedy." He said. "Go around front and see the nurse." The guard inside said. Dean glances back to us then goes inside shutting the door behind him. Sam and I glance at each other then away to see if anyone's coming.

Then we hear Dean knock on the door and we quickly slip into the room while Dean pulls the guard into a corner out of the way. "Eunice Kennedy?" Sam asked. "That's the beauty about improv, Sammy. You never know what's gonna come out of your mouth." Dean said. "Yeah, you would know." I grumbled, with a sneer, and Dean turns his head to me and I shrug a bit.

We sit down in front of the screen and spend what felt like hours watching them. "So, what are..." I started to asked but then I notice Dean had drifting off to sleep, leaning his head against my shoulder. I roll my eyes at this then I flick his forehead, waking him up. "Hey." I said and he sits up, quickly. "What are we even looking for?" I asked as he shakes his head to wake himself up. "Well, he's Pestilence, so he probably looks sick." Dean said as he runs his hand over his eyes. "Everybody looks sick." Sam remarked.

We spend hours watching the camera until a man leaves a room cause a distortion on the monitor. "Hey." I said, pointing to it. Dean, who's been pacing to keep himself awake, comes over to look at the screens. We watch as each monitor has a distortion when ever the man is caught by the camera. "Oh, now we're talking." Dean said, smirking.

We exit the security room and made our way through the halls to catch up to the man. Ducking behind a wall to avoid one of the nurses seeing Sam holding Ruby's knife and Dean and I holding shotguns. We continue down the hall, passing an open room where a nurse was checking in on one of the patiences.

Further along, I suddenly start to feel sick and we all started coughing, my vision became blurry with tears but we pressed on. We round the corner and found the bodies of a doctor and a nurse. I lean on the wall while the boys leaned on the opposite wall for support, Sam coughs up blood onto his hand. "Ugh...Must be getting close." He said. "You think?" Dean asked.

We keep going, getting sicker and sicker with every step. Finally, my body couldn't take it any more and I start to sink to the floor.

"(Y/n)?" Dean said, coming over to me. He tries to help me up and tries to get me to keep going, but we both stumble and I fall to the floor. Sam stumbles to his feet and slowly made his way to the room, while Dean crumbles to the floor unable to keep going as well. We all lay on the floor, coughing uncontrollably.

Sam makes it to the room and the door is open by a nurse. Sam raises the knife to her but the nurse was unfazed by it. "The doctor will see you now." She said, stepping aside showing Pestilence was sitting on the bed next to a dead old woman.

"Sam. Dean. (y/n)." Pestilence said, waving for us to come froward. Sam keels over and falls to the floor. "Come right in." Pestilence said. The nurse steps out into the hall and drags Dean and I into the room next to Sam.

"Hmm. You three don't look well. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever." Pestilence said, getting up from the bed staring down at us as we continue coughing. "Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis." Pestilence said, then clicks his tongue as he shakes his head. "That's no fun." He said. 

Pestilence steps closer, grabbing Sam by his hair and lifting his head up to look at him. "However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions?" He asked, dropping Sam and letting his face drop back down to the floor. "Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself...Very...Pure...Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose...divide and conquer." Pestilence said as Dean reaches for the knife that Sam had dropped. 

But Pestilence steps on his hand, stopping him. "That's why, in the end...It always wins." Pestilence said, kicking the knife away before releasing Dean. "So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so MESSY...AND WEAK! It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now...On a scale of 1 to 10, how's your pain?" Pestilence asked as he takes out glasses from his pocket and puts them on.

The door flies open and Castiel walks in. "Cas." Dean and I said, surprised and relieved. "How'd you get here?" Pestilence asked Castiel, taking off his glasses. "I took a bus. Don't worry, I..." Castiel said but then he falls to the floor, coughing. "Well, look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless. Oh, that's fascinating. There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?" Pestilence asked as he leans over Castiel, grinning.

But then Pestilence was pulled backwards and slammed against the desk. "He's not alone." Ariel said as she appeared behind him. The demon nurse charges at Ariel but Ariel waves her hand and the nurse flies back. Then Ariel raises the knife, Sam dropped, grabs his arm and cuts off Pestilence's ring finger and pinky finger. Pestilence screams out in pain then pulls his bloody hand away.

The nurse gets up and goes after Ariel again but Castiel tackles her down and they fight. Ariel then goes over, grabs the demon and stabs her, killing her.

With the ring cut off, we were suddenly healthy again and we stand up then Dean picks up the finger to retrieve the ring. "It doesn't matter. It's too late." Pestilence said, before he disappears. I furrow my brow at this then look over at the others, who also had the same confused, concerned expression.

We return to Bobby's and Dean drops Pestilence's ring in the desk in front of Bobby. "Well, it's nice to actually score a home run for once, ain't it?" Bobby said, but no one says anything. "What?" He asked us. "Last thing Pestilence said. it's too late." Sam said. "He get specific?" Bobby asked. "No." I replied. "We're just a little freaked out that he might have left a bomb somewhere. So please tell us you have actual good news." Dean said and Bobby pauses for a moment.

"Chicago's about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium. Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die." He said. "Huh." Dean muttered, looking down.

"I don't understand your definition of good news." Castiel said while Ariel paces. "You and me both, Cas." I said. "I think what Bobby is saying is that...Death, the horseman...he's gonna be there." She said and Bobby nods. "Exactly! And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back." Bobby explained.

"Yeah, you make it sound so easy." Dean said. "Hell, I'm just trying to put a spin on it." Bobby said. "Well...Bobby, h-how'd you put all this together, anyways?" Sam asked. "I had, you know...Help." Bobby said, quietly, seeming unusually nervous all of a sudden.

We hear a glass clink and turn to see Crowley in the kitchen pouring himself a drink. "Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all." He said to Bobby as he picks up his glass and walks over to lean on the doorframe of the library and kitchen. "Hello, gang. Pleasure, et cetera." He said to us, taking a sip of his drink. "Go ahead. Tell them. There's no shame in it." He said to Bobby, setting his glass down.

We all turn to Bobby. "Bobby? Tell us what?" I asked, very worried. "World's gonna end. Seems stupid to get all precious over one little...Soul." Bobby said. "You sold your soul?" Dean asked, dumbfounded. "Oh, more like pawned it. I fully intend to give it back." Crowley said. "Well, then give it back!" I growled at him. "I will." Crowley said. "Now!" Dean and I yelled.

"Did you kiss him?" Sam asked Bobby. "Sam!" Dean said, exasperated. "Just wondering." Sam replied. We all look at Bobby, who looks between us. "No!" He exclaimed and Sam narrows his, suspicious. Crowley clears his throat and we look at him to see he was holding out his phone which has a picture of himself and Bobby kissing.

"Why'd you take a picture?" Bobby asked, ashamed, while Crowley glances at the photo. "Why do you have to use tongue?" He asked. We all turn to Bobby again, in shock, while Bobby glares at Crowley, who smiles back at him. 

"All right. You know what? I'm sick of this." Dean growled as her walks over to Crowley. "Give him his soul back now." He ordered. "I'm sorry. I can't." Crowley said. "Can't or won't?" Dean asked. "I won't, all right? It's insurance." Crowley said. "What are you talking about?" I asked. "You kill demons. Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it. But you won't kill me...As long as I have that soul in the deposit box." Crowley said, waving his phone before putting it away in his pocket.

"You son of a bitch." Bobby growled. "I'll return it. After all this is over, and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?" Crowley asked and I glared at him.

I went outside with Dean to help him pack the trunk when Sam walks up. He sighs and he leans against the car. "Let me guess. We're about to have a talk." Dean said. "Look, guys, um...For the record...I agree with you. About me. You think I'm too weak to take on Lucifer. Well, so do I. Believe me, I know exactly how screwed up I am. You two, Bobby, Cas, Ariel...I'm the least of any of you." Sam explained.

"Oh, Sam..." Dean and I mutter as Dean leans on the car next to him. "No, it's true. It is. But...I'm also all we got. If there was another way..." He said then he paused for a moment, shrugging. "But I don't think there is. There's just me. So I don't know what else to do. Except just try t-to do what's got to be done." He explained. 

"Aaaand...Scene." Crowley's voice said and we turn to see him walking around the Impala to join us on the other side. "There's something you need to see." He said and he hands a newspaper to Sam. "Niveus pharmaceuticals is rushing delivery of its new swine-flu vaccine to 'stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak. Uh, shipments leave Wednesday." Sam reads aloud. "Niveus pharmaceuticals. Get it?" Crowley asked, we stare at him blankly.

Crowley sighs. "You three are lucky you have your looks. Your demon lover, Brady? V.P. of distribution, Niveus." He said then the boys and I exchanged a look of realization. "Ah, yes, that the sound of the abacus clacking? We all caught up?" Crowley asked. "So, Pestilence was spreading swine flu." I said. "Yeah, but not just for giggles. That was step one. Step two is the vaccine. And you think..." Dean said, being interrupted by Crowley. "I know. I'll stake my reputation... That vaccine is chock-full of grade-a, farm-fresh croatoan virus." He said.

"Simultaneous, countrywide distribution. It's quite a plan." I said. "They don't get to be horsemen for nothing. So, you lot better stock up on...Well, everything. This time next Thursday, we'll all be living in zombieland." Crowley said, the boys and I exchange worried looks.

That night, I was helping Bobby pack his van while Castiel was standing around, depressed. "What's your problem?" Bobby asked the angel. "This is what they mean by 'the 11th hour,' right?" Castiel asked. "Pretty much." I replied, shrugging. "Well, it's the 11th hour, and I am useless. All I have is this." Castiel said, waving a shotgun. "What am I even supposed to do with it?" He asked. "Point it and shoot." Bobby said, like it was so obvious. "It's easy Cas. You'll get the hang of it." I said, patting him on shoulder.

Castiel shook his head. "What I used to be..." He started to say. "Are you really gonna bitch to me?" Bobby asked and Castiel glances at him then looks away. "Bobby, be nice." I said to him and Bobby scoffs then looks back at Cas. "Quit pining for the varsity years..." Bobby said, wheeling himself over and tossing his duffle bag to Castiel. "And load the damn truck." He said, wheeling away. 

Castiel sighs and tosses the bag in the van when Ariel appears. "You'll be fine, Cas. I'll have enough power for the both of us." Ariel said and she pats his shoulder as he looks down and I give Cas a sympathetic look. "Everything will be okay, Cas." I said and I pat his back then I go over to the boys. 

"All right, well...Good luck stopping the whole zombie apocalypse." Dean said to me and Sam. "Yeah. Good luck killing Death." Sam said to Dean. "Yeah." Dean said, nodding, and I scoff. "Remember when we used to just...hunt wendigos? How simple things were?" I asked them. "Not really." Dean replied and Sam sighs. "Well, um..." He said and he pulls out Ruby's knife. "...You might need this." He said to Dean.

"Keep it." Crowley said, suddenly appearing again, then he hands Dean a small scythe. "Dean's covered. Death's own. Kills, golly, demons and angels and reapers and, rumor has it, the very thing itself." He said. "How did you get those?" Castiel asked while Ariel eyes him with suspicion. "Hello...king of the crossroads. So, shall we?" Crowley said, then he looks to Bobby.

"Bobby, you just gonna sit there?" He asked. "No, I'm gonna riverdance." Bobby said, sarcastically. "I suppose if you want to impress the ladies. Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact...you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-a clause on your behalf." Crowley said, we stared at him confused.

"What can I say? I'm an altruist. Just gonna sit there?" Crowley asked. We all turn to Bobby, who looks down at his legs, shocked. He twitches his foot and looks up, astounded then Bobby gets out of his wheelchair, amazed. We all stared at him, equally amazed.

"Son of a bitch." Bobby whispered. "Yes, I know. Completely worth your soul. I'm a hell of a guy." Crowley said, waving his hands vaguely. "Thanks." Bobby said, sincerely. "This is getting maudlin. Can we go?" Crowley asked, gesturing to the Impala then turns away. "I'm coming with you, Dean. I don't really trust him." Ariel said to Dean. "You sure?" I asked her and she nods then follows Crowley.

Ariel and Crowley go to the Impala, while Bobby, Sam and Castiel go in the van, leaving me and Dean alone. “So…” Dean muttered, slightly looking away. “So.” I repeated, an awkward silence fell over us for a brief moment which Dean breaks by clearing his throat. “Be careful and uh…watch out for Sammy.” He said and I nod.

“I will. You and Ariel be careful too.” I said and Dean nods, turning to leave but stops. “Something else you want to say?” I asked as Dean turns back to me, opening his mouth looking hesitant. 

“You um….when this is over. Do you uh…want to do something? Maybe get a beer?” Dean asked, looking like a flustered teenager asking a girl out for the first time. I smile a little at how uncharacteristically nervous he is. “Maybe. Are you buying?” I asked and Dean smirks and nods. “Sure.” He said.

“Alright. Sounds good.” I said and Dean nodded. “Good, good. I’ll uh…see you when this is over.” He said, continuing to be nervous, and I couldn’t help but giggle at this. “Are you always this nervous when you ask a girl out for a drink?” I asked, raising my eyebrow. “Only the pretty ones.” Dean replied and I blushed at this.

Dean smirks a little. “See ya, weirdo.” He said, turning and heading towards the Impala. I smile as I watch him go. “See ya, jackass.” I said, feeling my heart flutter, as I go over to the van.

"Yes to Lucifer. Then jump in the hole. It's an interesting plan." Castiel said. "That's a word for it." Bobby said, sarcastically, and I scoff out a laugh. "So? Go ahead and tell me it's the worst plan you ever heard." Sam said to Cas, exasperated. "Of course. I am happy to say that if that's what you want to hear. But it's not what I think." Castiel said and we all turn our heads to him.

"Really?" Sam and I said, shocked. "You two and Dean have a habit of exceeding my expectations. Dean resisted Michael. Maybe you could resist Lucifer but there are things that you would need to know, Sam." Castiel said. "Like?" Sam asked. "Michael has found another vessel." Castiel said and I gasp.

"What?" Sam asked. "It's your brother Adam. You must have considered it." Castiel said, sounding like it was obvious. "We were trying not to." I said and Sam nods. "Sam....If you say yes to Lucifer and then fail...This fight will happen. And the collateral...It'll be immense. There's also the demon blood." Castiel said to Sam.

"What? What are you talking about?" Sam asked. "To take in Lucifer, it would be more than you've ever drunk." Castiel warns. "But...Why?" I asked him. "It strengthens the vessel. Keeps it from exploding." Castiel explains.

"But the guy he's in now --" Sam said then Castiel answers his unfinished question. "He's drinking gallons." he said. "And how is that not the worst plan you ever heard?" Bobby asked as Sam and I exchange looks. 

We make it to the Pharmaceuticals warehouse and parked then Bobby pulls out his binoculars. "Yup, they're loading up hotshots of Croatoan in the trucks. Okay. First truck don't leave for an hour. We get in, we plant the c-4 every 25 feet, then we pull the fire alarm." He said.

"That truck is leaving." Castiel said as he points out a truck leaving and I curse under my breath. "Balls! Okay, new plan." Bobby said and we start to rush out of his van.

"Help!" A voice calls out to us as we get up to the warehouse. "Side door!" Bobby yells and we go over to the side to see a door. "Help me, please! Help!" a panicked, fearful voice called out as we get to the door. "Get back!" Sam orders and he shoots through the door lock, opening the door.

"Go. Come on, boys. Go." I shout as we run inside and see a whole pack of Croatoan infected people attacking someone. We take aim and shoot down the Croatoan infected. "Help me! Please! Help!" another voice calls out, which told us there were more people.

"There's still people here." I shout and Sam and I start to move further into the warehouse. "Kids, no!" Bobby yells and Sam turns to him. "Wait here." he said as he hands Bobby his knife and he and I run.

We were able to make it to a different part of the warehouse and found more Croatoan infected attacking an employee. We immediately kill them then check on the employee. "You okay?" Sam asked him and he nods then we take the employee to Bobby, who is holding off other Croatoan infected.

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" Bobby shouts as we lead the employees out of the building and kill any Croatoan infected. "All clear." Sam said and I turn to him just as I see a Croatoan infected coming up behind him.

"Sam!" I shout as Sam is attacked by a Croatoan infected but, quickly, Castiel appears and shoots the infected with his shotgun. "Actually, these things can be useful." Castiel said as he looks at his gun.

"Can we commit our act of domestic terrorism already? Let's go." Bobby said and we nod and begin to plant the bomb.

*3rd Person POV*

"I'm still insulted that you came along." Crowley said to Ariel as they drive into Chicago, which seemed mostly deserted despite being a big city. "I don't trust you, Demon. Especially around my friend." Ariel said as she nods to Dean, who smiled to himself. "Aww, and the name calling? I'm heartbroken. Also, I didn't know Angels were so attached to humans?" Crowley said. "This Angel is." Ariel growls as she points to herself. 

They get out of the Impala and started walking. "Hey, let's stop for pizza." Crowley said. "Are you kidding?" Dean asked. "Just heard it was good. That's all." Crowley replied and Ariel scoffs.

Then Crowley catches their arms, stopping the duo. "Up ahead. Big, ugly building. Ground zero. Horseman's stable, if you will. He's in there." He said, nodding to the building ahead. "How do you know?" Dean asked. "Have you met me? 'cause I know. Also, the block is squirming with reapers. I'll be right back." Crowley said, disappearing. 

Dean turns to Ariel, who was looking towards the building. "Is he telling the truth?" He asked her. "Surprisingly, yes." She replied.

"Boy, is my face red." A voice said and they turn around to see Crowley has reappeared, not even a second later. "Death's not in there." He said. "You want to cut the cute and get to the part where you tell us where he is?" Dean growled. "Sorry. I don't know." Crowley replied, turning around and walking away.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Wait a minute. You don't know?" Ariel asked, hurrying in front of the demon to stop him. "Signs pointed. I-I'm just as shocked as you." Crowley said, brushing pass her.

"Bobby sold his soul for this!" Dean exclaimed, Crowley stops and turns around to look at them. "Relax. All deals are soul back or store credit. We'll catch Death in the next doomed city." He said. "Millions, Crowley. Millions of people are about to die any minute." Dean said. "True. So I strongly suggest we get out of here." Crowley said, walking back to the Impala.

"So, what? Call in a bomb threat? 1,000 bomb threats? I mean, how the hell are we supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next 10 minutes?" Dean asked Crowley and Ariel as they walk down the streets and to the Impala. But then Ariel stops and looks across the street and disappears.

Dean turns around and sees she's gone. "Where's Ariel?" He asked and Crowley turns and see she's gone too. "Maybe Miss Goody-two-shoes decided to bail out. Like we should be doing." Crowley said but then Dean noticed Ariel was across the street, looking in a window of a pizzeria.

"What is she doing?" Dean asked but then she disappeared and reappeared in front of him. "If you actually got your head out of your ass, Demon, you would see that Death is in that pizza parlor." Ariel said at Crowley as she points at the pizzeria. "Well, excuse me, princess." Crowley sneered and they glare daggers at each other. 

"Okay, then...good job, Ariel." Dean said and Ariel smiles and nods at him then they start to head to the pizza parlor. "You coming or..." Dean said as he turns around only see Crowley has disappeared. "...Not." Dean grumbled and Ariel scoffs. "Typical." She growls as they cross the street to the pizzeria.

"You sure you want to go in here? I mean, I know he's gotta terrify you..." Dean said and Ariel nods a bit. "He does but...." she said then she looks over at him. "I'm not leaving my friend behind." Ariel said and Dean gives her an appreciated smile then they get closer to the parlor and enter it, slowly and quietly.

Inside everyone was dead, except for a man who was seated at a table, eating. As Dean and Ariel approach Death, the scythe Dean was holding starts to heat up until it burned his hand. Dean drops his weapon and it reappears on the table Death is sitting at.

"Thanks for returning that. Join me, Dean and Ariel. The pizza's delicious." Death said, not turning around to look at them. Dean and Ariel exchange a look and slowly walk over to the table. "Sit down." Death said as he cuts off a piece of his pizza to eat it with a fork.

Dean takes a seat in front of Death and Ariel takes a seat on Dean's right. "Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to both of you." Death said. "I got to say...I have mixed feelings about that." Dean said. "S-so is this the part where...where you kill us?" Dean asked and finally Death looks up from his food at them.

"You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well...Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old. Very old. So I invite both of you to contemplate how insignificant I find the two of you." Death said then he places a couple of slices of pizza on the plates in front of Dean and Ariel.

"Eat." He ordered. Dean and Ariel look down at the pizza then glance at Death, who waits. Dean takes a bite his pizza while Ariel looked at it before taking a bite of her slice. She really didn't need to eat but she didn't want to anger Death. "Good, isn't it?" Death asked as he goes back to eating.

"Well, I got to ask. How old are you?" Dean asked. "As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless...at the end, I'll reap him, too." Death said. "God? You'll reap Father?" Ariel asked, stunned. "Oh, yes. Your Father will die, too, Ariel." Death replied as lighting flashes outside. "Well, this is way above my pay grade." Dean said. "Just a bit." Death said.

"So, then why are we still breathing, sitting here with you? What do you want?" Ariel asked. "The leash around my neck...off. Your brother, Lucifer, has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum." Death explained and Ariel nods.

"And you think...we can unbind you?" Dean asked. "There's your ridiculous bravado again. Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun." Death said and he sets his fork and knife down. Then Death held up his hand that was wearing his ring.

"I understand you want this." He said. "Yeah." Dean said. "I'm inclined to give it to you." Death said. "To give it to us?" Ariel asked, suspicious. "That's what I said." Death said, simply.

"But what about..." Dean started to asked. "Chicago? I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza." Death said, taking his ring off. "There are conditions." He said. "Okay. Like?" Dean asked. "You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell." Death replied. "Of course." Dean and Ariel said. "Whatever it takes." Death said, firmly. "That's the plan." Dean said. "No. No plan. Not yet. Your brother. He's the one that can stop Lucifer. The only one." Death said. "What, you think..." Dean started to say but Death speaks over him.

"I know. So, I need a promise. Both of you are going to let Sam jump right into that fiery pit." Death said as Dean and Ariel stare at him, speechless. "Well, do I have your word?" He asked. Dean and Ariel exchange the look before they look back at Death in the eyes. "Okay, yeah. Yes." Dean said.

Death stares at him, then turns his head to look at Ariel, who nods. "That had better be yes, you two. You know you can't cheat death." Death said, before dropping his ring into Dean's hand. "Now, would you like the instruction manual?" Death asked.

Back at Bobby's, Dean sat outside in the scrapyard, looking at Death's ring. When he sets it down next to the other three rings lock together. Bobby kicks a box out of his way, getting Dean's attention. "Well, how'd it go at the Rockettes audition?" Dean asked him, smiling.

"Well, high kicks...fair. Boobs need work. I walked up and down stairs all night for no damn reason. I'm sore." Bobby said, laughing. "Feels so good, I'm scared it's a dream. But then I remember that the world's dying bloody, so, drink?" He said, handing Dean a beer.

"Check it out." Dean said and he shows Bobby how the rings link together, making the old man nearly spit up his beer. "Hmm. Oh. So Death told you and Ariel how to operate those? The whole deal?" He asked as he takes a seat across from Dean.

"Yeah. It's nuts. Of course, we got bigger problems now." Dean said. "Really? Like?" Bobby asked. "What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?" Dean asked. "Nothing good." Bobby replied, shrugging. "Yeah." Dean muttered.

"What'd you say?" Bobby asked. "That we were cool with Sam driving the bus on the whole Lucifer plan." Dean said. "So Death thinks Sam ought to say yes, huh?" Bobby asked. "I don't know. Yeah." Dean replied and Bobby hums, thoughtful.

"But, I mean, of course he'd say that. He works for Lucifer." Dean said. "Against his will, I thought he said." Bobby said. "Well, I'd say, take his sob story with a fat grain of salt. I mean, he is Death." Dean said. "Exactly. He's Death. Think of the kind of bird's-eye view." Bobby argued.

"Seriously?" Dean asked. "I'm just saying." Bobby replied. "Well, don't. I mean, what happened to you being against this?" Dean asked. "Look, I'm not saying Sam ain't an ass-full of character defects. But..." Bobby started. "But what?" Dean asked.

"Back at Niveus? I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another. Must have saved 10 people. Never stopped. Never slowed down. (y/n) even helped him as much as she could. We're hard on him, Dean. We've always been. But in the meantime....He's been running into burning buildings since he was, what, twelve?" Bobby asked.

"Pretty much." Dean replied. "Look, Sam's got a...Darkness in him. I'm not saying he don't. But he's got a hell of a lot of good in him, too." Bobby said. "I know." Dean muttered, looking down slightly.

"Then you know Sam will beat the devil...Or die trying. That's the best we could ask for. So I got to ask, Dean." Bobby said, leaning forward. "What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Or losing your brother?" He asked and Dean doesn't answer.

“How about losing (y/n)?” Bobby asked and Dean fidgets a little at hearing this question. “If Sam’s plan goes south, Ariel will probably ask (y/n) to be her vessel, so she can take on Lucifer herself.” He said.

“You think she’ll say yes?” Bobby asked. “I know she will.” Dean replied. “So, what you’re really afraid of is losing both of them.” Bobby said questionably and Dean once again doesn’t answer, but his silence was enough.

“We gotta make a move soon, you’d better use what time we have left to clear the air and not live with any regrets.” Bobby said and Dean gives him a look. “(Y/n).” Bobby said and Dean looks down slightly. “I’m taking her out later.” He said. 

“You know what you’re gonna say?” Bobby asked. “No, not really.” Dean replied and Bobby stares at him for a moment. “Before my wife…” He started to say, pausing in hesitation. Dean looks up at him, intrigued. “Before she was possessed, she and I…we got in a real nasty argument. I said somethings I wish I could take back and apologize for. But I never had that chance. You do. So don’t waste it.” Bobby said, sternly, and Dean nods.

[goldenlaquer]

(Nsfw) Golden king & queen, I raise you: reader with oral fixation + Bandit. Gotta wanna will ah suck on hm. Fingers yeah? :))))))))) suppressing my shame

I concede, you genius.

Dominic "Bandit" Brunsmeier NSFW Headcanons:

You've always been a bit of a snark.

Always got something to say, you. Never without your trigger finger on a ready quip. No terrible, groan-worthy pun is ever left unturned on your watch. Sarcastic witticisms galore tucked in your belt right next to your gun. Some can appreciate it, and some think—

You have a smart mouth, Schatzi. He tells you, a dark gaze boring into you, first holding your eyes, then flicking down to your lips, lingering. Be careful with that.

But it's more than an attitude problem, you just can't help it, like an itch. Your mouth, you have to use it, else you go crazy. When you're not verbally running it off, you need to keep it busy, constantly chewing gum, biting your hangnail into a bleeding mess, sucking on the insides of your cheeks like candy, or gnawing the rubber-covered wires of your coms to near destruction, or bringing your hand up to your quivering bottom lip, caressing… imagining… imagining…

the memory of a glove being shucked off, exposing trimmed nails and rough inked skin. you watching in a dumbed stupor as he brought his other gloved hand to wrap around an uncovered wrist, flexing those big fingers, tendons and strong veins a stark relief.

Longing breeds strange actions. Alone in the short hours that you have to yourself, your own hands have become a poor substitute of what you recall. Your fingers, so much smaller and not as rough hewn, tracing the shape of your mouth, nails dipping in the parted seam, feeling the boundaries between dry skin and soft warm wetness, drunk to the imagination that it's his finger instead.

What would he do? What would he say? If he knew how bad you want to put your smart mouth on him, so bad that it hurts. That you got off on it, to the mere thought of him inside your mouth. That it didn't matter where— his hands, or his lips, or his cock– anywhere he lets you. Anywhere.

Bandit knows. Of course, he does. Your longing is such a plain thing to sniff out. The need in your stares so visceral, it would take a complete fool to miss it. Even in the midst of sassing him—you know that he knows, when he reaches over and plucks your smiling bottom lip from the worry of teeth, and holds it between in a firm pinch, scruffing you into a paralyzed state, a deer caught in headlights. 

Ah. Bandit's slow, unblinking study of your flustered face and trembling lip is akin to a triumphant victory lap. So this is how I make you behave.

Behaving can only mean that your mouth is being lazily fucked by two of his thick fingers while you’re kneeling between his legs, his half-lidded eyes meeting the tears brewing underneath your lashes and the saliva running down your neck as he fits himself knuckle-deep in, the lewd squelch of your throat working to accommodate him, and your tongue soothingly lapping around the worn leather of his gloves.

How nice and agreeable you become, his little troublemaker, at the mere touch of his gloved thumb on your presented tongue. Oh, but what a good girl you are.

Good girl. Good girl. Good girl. The praise does something to you, hurtling straight to the unintelligent goo in your primitive brain, takes deep root and festers. makes you mewl and suck on him harder, wanting to please him, like a good girl.

Sometimes you're sweet as sweet can be, preening with his rumbling chuckles, laced with amusement and hot with want, when you slowly suck in his bottom lip, or when you pepper kisses up his neck to take the lobe of his ear and drag it lightly through your blunt teeth. Or when worshipping his hands— so beautiful in their dangerous masculinity— tugging his gloves off with your mouth and finding purpose in kissing every hardened callous and licking the pathways of his scars and tattoos with care.

And sometimes, you don't really care about being a good girl for him, smartass comments rolling off your tongue until he's had enough of it, snapping, close your mouth.

And good girls certainly do not try to unsuccessfully hold back their excited grins and exacerbate their grave situations by purring, thought you liked it wide open.

For that, he's making you warm his hard cock in your throat for hours, unconcerned with the whimpers coming from below the work bench as he takes his time cleaning out his guns and mending his CED, periodically reaching down to pinch your nose shut, uncaring that his fingers are filthy with grease, until you're frantically gagging on the thickness for air— or thrusting his hips deeper in your mouth when he feels like there's not enough drool leaking down his balls.

Maybe Bandit might regret what a little fiend you’re turning out to be from all this. Because punishments don't really mean much if you enjoy what he does to you, and the proof is right there in the pudding when he finally sets aside his CED and checks under the bench, tenderly brushing out the hairs from your soaked cheeks—and look, look at the mess, the sobbing, the saliva, the grease marks. Look, how utterly wreaked you are, and yet, still how you glow with such enraptured bliss, as if there's no place you'd rather be then there on the floor, sucking on his cock.

Oh, Schatzi. What will I do with you.

[shallowseeker]

i think a lot about the way dean says "human" when castiel reveals he's unable to teleport in season 5 episode 21. like. man. was dean envisioning a future with him subconsciously? because he sounds worried but also like. stunned. that castiel is human. like he never imagined that happening.

Oh, man. Now that you've said it, I'm going to add that tone of confusing wonder to my headspace.

It's funny because Dean knows that angels can lose their grace, can fall (re: Anna), but you're right in that scene, he seems almost gobsmacked. And it doesn't all seem "strategic" either.

///

In the previous episode 5x19, we saw that he was trying to hold out hope:

SAM: Yeah, well, I'm not giving up. DEAN: Nobody's giving up. Especially me. We're gonna find a way to beat the devil, okay? Soon. I can feel it. And we will find Cas, we'll find Adam. But you are no good to me burnt out.

But rewatching it now, there's something about the interaction that's SO. Different, almost. There's a tone of awe. I think he's mostly focused on Pestilence and the mission, but there's an undercurrent of something for sure.

DEAN: Are you okay? CASTIEL: No. DEAN: You want to elaborate? CASTIEL: I just woke up here. The doctors were fairly surprised. They thought I was brain-dead. DEAN: S-so, a hospital?

///

DEAN: Uh, well, I got to tell you, man -- You're just in time. We figured out a way to pop Satan's box. CASTIEL: How? DEAN: It's a long story, but, look --we're going after Pestilence now. So if you want to zap over here... CASTIEL: I can't "zap" anywhere. DEAN: What do you mean? CASTIEL: You could say my batteries are -- are drained. DEAN: What do you mean? You're out of angel mojo? CASTIEL: I'm saying that I am thirsty and my head aches. I have a bug bite that itches no matter how much I scratch it, and I'm saying that I'm just incredibly... DEAN: Human. Wow. Sorry.

This is fresh off a huge fight between them where they sniped at each other and vehemently disagreed. And yet... Dean is sure Cas is going to zap over and help.

As we saw earlier in the season, Dean and Cas get MAD at each other and disagree with each other. It makes their willingness to support each other very, incredibly... something.

[feralfanatic]

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH my brain is going feral. I just remembered a show I grew up watching, Penn Zero: Part Time Hero, and like, I wanna re-watch it because I remembered the show existed, but I can't find anywhere to watch it. Like, the "totally" legal website I was using has the episodes out of order. Because my memory is so damn fuzzy I can't piece them back into the right order (even with the wiki's! the site has the correct names in order but each episode is incorrectly labeled!!!!) so now I'm going feral trying to scratch the itch in my brain for this show. Lovely.

[unnervinglyferal]

It's more tied to the fact that psychosis or whatever the hell my brain has been hitting me with since like August hits when I'm here in my bed at night, sometimes in the middle of my sleep, like, it literally wakes me up in the depths of the night just to fucking make me experience suicide-inducing levels of existencial dread and horrific sensations previously only known to maybe G-d and other bodyless entities.

I'll be here laying still trying to get some G-d forsaken rest, which is something we all need to survive and function like sane human beings -at the maximum extent some of us can- and my mind will decide it's the best time ever to make me go through mental acrobatics that involve me being unable to recognise that I exist, that others exist and that no, actually, the world will not disappear the minute I go to sleep or even die, and you guys are your own individual beings with your own consciences, the problem with that is that you don't really have anything that proves that to you. I lack tactible proof that you guys are as real as me, and that you guys have your own private currents of reality, because you can't prove that kind of stuff, it's stuff that seems obvious in perspective, but you don't really ever get to see it yourself, because most people don't need that type of proof.

Anyways, that's not the only problem. Alongside existencial doubt and dread and horror, I have to face physical sensations that don't make any sense. Yesterday night I got woken in the middle of the night by a sense of incredible vibrating violence against the world, and it was not like, just an emotion, because the insides of my nails itched with hate. My hands feel like, heavy and lightweight at the same time, and I get such an intense mental fog. It's terrible. It's a feeling so terrible it makes me, the 18 year old adult fucker, go to sleep on the same bed my parents do hoping it'll leave me alone. It's a feeling so overwhelming that my mind instantly decides that dying would be a viable option for instant release, as in the sense of euthanasia. It's embarassing, it's distressing, it's agonizing, it is unsustainable.

I don't even know for sure if it's psychosis, but I call it such because I've considered that it might be like an anxiety attack or a meltdown out of overstimulation, but it feels different that any of those things. It's mental anguish that came out of years of sadness, depression, fear and loneliness. It woke me up in the middle of the night one random day and it hasn't left since.

So far, I can only seem to wait those out when they happen. Not like I have any other choices. I can't seem to find any triggers that I could avoid to avoid causing them in the first place, though it's not like something that hits you in the middle of sleep without any seemingly plausible reason it's the kind of thing that can be avoided at all by any means. Just one of those situations you gotta grit your teeth through, before you figure out what exactly it is or where did it come from or if it's curable at all.

And that's why I'm scared of going to sleep. The mind works in ways. Not sure which, just ways.

You need to get somewhere peaceful. Somewhere that you've got peace of mind and you can rationally trust that you're safe. I'm not going to say "feel safe", because you're not going to feel safe anywhere for a long while no matter where you are, but somewhere where you can tell yourself that the part telling you that you're in danger is wrong, and trust that it's true.

[will-you-pick-me]

Y/N Unhinged / Mikey Horror (Blurb)

You were so fucking tired of being here.

This dingy fucking apartment that smelled of stale pizza boxes and mildew even though you KNEW Mikey could afford better if he wanted to. The stolen handcuffs that kept one hand chained to the radiator pipe - or so you let him believe. There was a rusty spot in the pipe that was thin, and you'd been slowly chipping at it, every other day to avoid notice. The way he'd run his fingers through your hair gently, only to gag you with the barrel of a pistol when you dared open your mouth to tell him off, then turn around just as easily and offer to play you a song on his guitar.

It was insane, and you felt like the insanity was starting to infect you, too.

You were restless, feeling like bugs were crawling in your brain, or maybe static buzzing. An itching under your skin and a wildness in your heart that was pushing you to just bite back already.

You knew you had to be patient, though. That you had to pretend to behave, make him lower his guard, and gather what you needed in order to strike.

It was a lucky break, when he left a screwdriver on the bedside table after fixing a wobbly leg on it. Even luckier, that you were able to reach it by stretching out your leg and curling your toes around the metal spike of it. A tense second later and you had your weapon stashed between the filthy mattress and the wall you were stuck near.

You tolerated the smothering cuddles, that night, as best you could. You bit back your urge to snap - or throw up - whenever he kissed your neck and told you he loved you. You even gave him a tired smile when he finally said goodnight and closed his eyes to sleep.

Tomorrow was the day.

You waited for him to get back from running around with his gang. You'd finished breaking through the radiator pipe while he was gone, and stationed yourself behind the door to attack when he came back. You didn't dare leave while he was still out, you wouldn't stand a chance if he had his lackeys with him or if you didn't have the element of surprise. Plus, the door was locked anyways.

No, you had to get him alone, and off guard.

You gripped the screwdriver tight as you heard the keys rattling in the lock, watched as he walked in with his usual sing-song greeting of "I'm home, my lil' tiger~", only for him to stop short in shock, and as he whirled around with panic in his eyes, you ran forward, stabbing the dirty screwdriver into his dominant shoulder. You got a satisfying glimpse of dumbfounded shock on his face before you were running out the door, bolting downstairs as you heard him shout out for you to stop, not that you were going to.

The sunlight and fresh air felt good on your skin as you burst out of the building, but you had no time to stop and appreciate it right now. You were running down the street, trying to find anyone or anywhere to help you hide.

Back at the apartment, Mikey was pulling out his phone, wincing in pain as he dialed the number and put the device to his ear.

"… They fuckin' stabbed me. Ran off. … No, I don't care what you do anymore, just find 'em. … Yeah, free reign. They're all yours, now, I don't fuckin' care anymore. … Yeah, swing by when you're done, who knows what's on this fuckin' screwdriver. Yes, really. … Thanks. See ya in a bit."

…~[---]~…

… You made it pretty far, he had to hand it to you, but he tsk'd in mock disappointment when he eventually found you cowering between a couple of dumpsters. Your terrified face as you looked up at him and recognized him was just so cute, though. He couldn't help but grin as he yanked you up by your hair, a quick jab of sedative making you slump over after a few moments struggle.

"You'll make such a lovely star for my viewers, Y/N… I can't wait to show them how you bleed~"

… When you wake up, you're faced with a camera, and a wall of bloody tools.

Maybe you'll make better choices next time.

[meyhew]

hi seed!! a (long) while ago you were talking about annotating books, do you use a pencil or pen or marker? do you add sticky notes and labels? do you highlight? sorry for the questions, i know i can do whatever i want but i was wondering what you do too. anyway hope you have a good day, sending you love 🥰❤️

omg hiii what i do really depends on the book and the mood im in, so i don't have like a set "method." if it's a serious book i'm reading for the first time i usually just underline and/or highlight things with quick little reactions here and there, and deeper connections happen on a second or third read (if ever). i'm biggg fan of slapping stickers in my books. so so so many stickers and doodles. i lend my books to friends often as well and they're allowed to write whatever they want so that also happens.

as far as writing utensils go, i gravitate towards pens that have a really fine print so my favs are: pilot hi-tec-c 0.25mm & 0.4mm, and sarasa gel retractable 0.5mm. the pilot ones do not bleed through At All and i love that. the sarasa doesn't necessarily bleeds but it's more visible on the other side of the page than the pilot. really all depends on how much pressure you write with; me personally i don't like to put a lot of pressure so my go to is definitely the pilot. i have both in tons of colors so i just pick one that goes with the cover or the vibe etc. the highlighters i normally use are from daiso and i can't find a link to them anywhere now but i would also recommend these ones.

example pages under the cut <3

SPOILERS for ninth house, hell bent, the atlas paradox, a place for us, the raven king

the black in the first photo is pilot hi-tec-c 0.25mm. idk what the red is in the second photo that was lys' work but the pink highlighter i Think was from the pack i linked above. the brown pen is a random one i bought in new york it glides really nicely but i dont typically use it for books bc it bleeds

the black in the next one is also pilot 0.2mm and the green is pilot 0.4mm so u can see the difference. (the blue is again lys idk what she used. i'm guessing it is also smth similar to the pilot 0.4mm). the red is either pilot 0.4mm or the sarasa 0.5mm the orange

sarasa gel 0.5mm in orange and of course stickers. the meme ones i get custom made from @maltruenorth bc she's my bestie but she also has an etsy shop and takes custom orders. i love these stickers they add so much personality to every single book

these are the highlighters i normally use now. they're from daiso and idk why i can't find them on their website BUT buying online is heinous bc shipping for my location is like... $20 and im NOT paying that lmao so i would suggest finding an alternative somewhere like the ones i've linked above. i've used those and loved them.

and tabs! i prefer translucent ones. again, i get mine from daiso but something like this would work as well. i like to be able to see through the tab instead of taking them off to read what's underneath but transparent ones arent fun bc i like color <3 and in case it wasnt obvious i underline with a ruler. i didn't always but it's a habit i picked up from lys and now i cannot stop doing it. makes everything look sooo much cleaner and satisfies an itch in my brain

[varpusvaras]

Forever craving for that one alternative version of Battleship Yamato's opening that had multiple singers in it. It was some kind of special project for the new anime a few years back. I saw it once then and then that version just vanished from the internet. It scratched my brain so good and now every time I get the itch I cannot relieve it because I can't find that version anywhere. It's 3 am. I am just a little desperate.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

First Kiss (5) Masterlist

part one, part two, part three, part four

A Kiss in the Tower (ao3) - upintwenty

Summary: Who would have expected these two to fall for each other?

Advent Calendar 2021 (ao3) - Phantje

Summary: Phil lives and works in a town in the North called Lylchester. Well, 'works'. He does charitable things in the name of being nice and his (adoptive) parents. Things are fine. Yeah. Fine. Meeting Dan who has strong opinions about peculiar things shakes up Phil's life and he is falling before he can help it.

Dan lives and works somewhere, or anywhere really. By fate, or call it the British Railway train running times, he ends up in Lylchester. Before he can help himself, he has made the first real best friend he has ever had - Beatrix. And suddenly, life does not seem so difficult anymore. Dan appreciates the work he can do, even if it has him interact with the rich idiot Phil more often that he would personally choose.

All Signs Point to Us (ao3) - RyRyCaptain

Summary: When the queen and king gives birth to Daniel, they soon learn that their son is deaf. In order to let Dan express his opinions to those who haven't learned sign language, they find him a translator who happens to be the son of the King’s advisor, Phil. Soon enough, Phil starts to realize thAt he fallen in love with the younger boy.

baby, you put a spell on me (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: "Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Because you're fun to look at. Obviously."

~~~

Magic is common in Phil's world. But even spells and potions can't explain his seemingly supernatural affeciton for his roommate...

blanket of stars (ao3) - silentdescant

Summary: “That’s all for now, thank you.”

“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

The whole script is so routine, Phil thinks his brain would short-circuit if either of them deviated from it. Dan walks away and Phil sinks lower in his seat, sighing into his blue drink.

“When are you gonna ask him out, man?” Martyn asks.

can't help the itch to touch- to kiss. (ao3) - thescienceofphan

Summary: Phil is Deaf and Dan sleeps around a lot. So when people see them together, they worry about Phil’s emotional well being and shame on Dan for preying on a deaf boy, but it’s not like that. Not at all.

(or an AU where deaf!phil and playboy!dan are best friends and people think they’re dating)

Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You - botanistlester

Summary: Dan listens to music super loudly and Phil sits right behind him, and sort of gets to know him through his music over the weeks and the rest is up to you

Cute - cafephan

Summary: Bored of London and in need of new clothes for a movie premiere, Dan and Phil head to Manchester for an impromptu shopping trip, resulting in more than they bargained for… 

Drunken Nonsense (ao3) - Spring_Haze

Summary: Young Dan and Phil end up playing their own drunken version of truth or dare following a few too many cocktails at the Lester Family Christmas Gathering in Phil's family home. Confessions are made, and two best friends become lovers.

Falling is Scary (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan realizes that he’s falling hard and fast for Phil. His feelings feel too intense for a relationship this new, and it’s a little scary. But it’s also wonderful.

Give Me A Spark, I’ll Give You Explosions - cafephan

Summary: Phil is shy, silently pining. Dan is loud and flirty, and doesn’t care about labels. House parties and nail polish occur.

I Don’t Wanna Think of Anything Else (Now That I’ve Thought of You) (ao3) - danscardigan

Summary: Dan and Phil meet and fall in love, all in one night.

i have loved you since we were 18 (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: phil reads dan’s diary in which dan wrote that he loved phil

I Want It, I Got It (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (paradisobound)

Summary: Phil Lester was a worker for the BBC in London. Working in the advertising department, he was content being alongside his friend and fellow coworker PJ during every shift. However, the BBC is temporarily being used as a film set for a new movie starring Hollywood ‘It’ star, Daniel Howell. Being stuck as an extra on the set, Phil finds it’s hard to ignore the famous star. And maybe, just maybe, Dan finds it hard to ignore Phil as well.

Lightyear Groovin' (ao3) - Tarredion

Summary: In a galaxy far, far away, there’s an abundance of 70s clubs. On Krithoo, local party freak Dan Howell works as a waiter at an often overcrowded cantina, Virgo Volans. And maybe, just maybe, has an infatuation with the extraterrestrial dj frequenting their stage.

London in an evening gown (ao3) - IntolerantBonita

Summary: Dan gives Phil a lift after their first date. As it happens in case of all magical meetings, also this one ended with a kiss bathed in the smell of caramel popcorn.

Lovesick (ao3) - parentaladvisorybullshitcontent

Summary: "This was meant to happen."

"You know fate's bullshit, right?" Dan says, but his voice isn't as steady as it was a second ago.

"Not for us," Phil says.

In which it's 2009 and there's Dan, Phil and the Manchester Eye

no longer feel alone (ao3) - natigail

Summary: who'd have known that a random act of kindness from a stranger could lead to this.

Now We’re On the Naughty List (ao3) - cafephan

Summary: Phil meets Dan after a Christmas Eve party, and invites him to stay after his taxi is stuck in the snow.

Out of My League (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan thinks Phil is out of his league.

Reconciliation of the Hopeful Kind (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (paradisobound)

Summary: Phil has been friends with Dan for as long as he can remember. But when he leaves Dan behind to go to University, he doesn't expect for his crush on Dan to grow more when he sees how different Dan looks now. Living in Manchester, he gets called home to help with his father's sudden illness. But during this time, Phil decides to contact Dan again. Reconnecting with each other, Phil realizes he doesn't want to go back to Manchester without telling Dan how he feels first.

Ribs. (ao3) - waypast0000

Summary: Dan and Phil throw a party, hoping to change their normal/loser lives. In the middle of adversities and growing up, it did, but not in the way they expected. Way, way better.

santa pally (santa baby) (ao3) - huphilpuffs

Summary: Phil grabs the first name off the top and hands the pot over. His hands are shaking when he unfolds it and– well fuck.

There, in Mr. Fowler’s familiar print, is written: Dan Howell.

sky full of stars (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: one night while trying to escape a party, phil instantly falls in love with a pretty boy who takes his breath away.

sleep away (ao3) - natigail

Summary: A stranger falls asleep on Phil's shoulder while riding on the Underground. Phil is content to let him rest however long he needs. He doesn't expect the guy - Dan - to wake up and be mad about it.

a.k.a. the three times Dan accidentally falls asleep on Phil and the one time he does it on purpose.

Star Crossed Enemies (ao3) - Junebug1312

Summary: When Dan's school decides to put on Romeo and Juliet, Dan is beyond excited. Until the lead actress drops out and Dan's enemy takes her place. Add in a kiss scene and everything starts to fall apart rather quickly.

Who knew the theatre program could be so dramatic?

the truth is rarely pure and never simple (ao3) - ZozeeWrites

Summary: dan is natural athlete, the top player on his college ice hockey team. no one knows that he is actually really smart and is transferred into the Honours Literature class. that is when he meets a literature nerd, phil, who just might be able to give his life a little more importance.

The Way I See You - ineverhadmyinternetphase

Summary: Dan’s shocked when he realises that Phil’s self-conscious about the way he looks. Apparently Phil doesn’t know that he isn’t allowed to be sad when Dan’s around. So Dan takes it upon himself to fix the situation - by complimenting something about Phil’s appearance every day. Trouble is, Dan isn’t very good at hiding his teensy tiny crush on Phil.

They'll Tear Us Apart (If You Give Them the Chance) (ao3) - Yiffandquiff (paradisobound)

Summary: Dan was just a fairy in his little village of Vixedeler when a mermaid invades the waters and sends the village into a frenzy. A thousand year old rivalry is resurfaced and Dan is left in the middle of his village while also feeding his new connection with the mermaid, Phil. As tensions rise, and Dan falls deeply for Phil, a Romeo and Juliet love story begins.

we have more in common than i thought (ao3) - manicpixieidiot

Summary: bad boy!dan has a bit of a secret crush on nerd!phil, and when grouped with him in class he uses the opportunity to convince him to come to a party. (what happens next will shock you!!) (not really, no shocks don't worry)

featuring a latin class, a party, becky&jessica, flustered drunk boys. and more softness than intended.

when it rains, it's lemon cakes (ao3) - gogystyle

Summary: "The thought of the boy quickly becomes one of his go-to fantasies, the thing that helps him get through the day, tethering him to reality and making it a bearable experience. And really, Phil thinks that it's a bit much to feel this way about what is, essentially, a complete stranger, but he's always been bad with fantasies, getting lost in them easily, head always filled with impossible scenarios and tender moments he'll never get to experience."

Sneaking around. Crushed pastries at the bottom of the tray. Kisses at dawn and the impending threat of an arranged marriage.

Phil meets a tall stranger on a late-night rendezvous through the castle. What happens when that stranger's smile and laugh fill an entire room, burrowing besides Phil's heart and refusing to leave?

when you are young, they assume you know nothing (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: A letter, in a plain envelope.

Dan’s address written on the outside.

And something else scribbled on the front:

To PML.

If the offer enclosed is disagreeable, return to sender.

--

After a misunderstanding at prom, Dan finds himself in a dilemma; should he fall into a summer affair with Phil, or should he make up with his boyfriend of 3 years, Blake?

Who Would've Thought? (ao3) - pasteldanhowells

Summary: Phil is really into literature/English in school, and Dan’s a “jock”. They’re total opposites, but find themselves being paired up together for a project in English class, and Dan eventually finds that Phil isn’t as bad as the entire school makes him out to be.