#i hATE starter calls because i got no ideas i got no thoughts brain empty!!!

[kxllerblond]

Fuck it, STARTER CALL.

[danilovesivars]

Sometimes, Quiet is Violent

See, Mommy is still finding Twenty One Pilots lyrics. It was so accurate on Wednesday. Daddy went back to the office for the first time since we took you to the hospital. Wednesdays were always Mommy and Charlie days since Riley was at school and Daddy was at work. For a stretch we would go to the studio for a music class after we’d drop Riley off to school. It was right over your nap time though so you only ever half participated. You would be most interested when you had a chance to use an instrument. You weren’t really all that interested in the singing. When we weren’t in music class we were snuggling for your morning nap. So this Wednesday was sooooo hard. For starters the last Wednesday Daddy went to work was the day we took you to the hospital so the harsh reminders and vivid memories of the beginning of the end hurt so painfully for all of us. Then there was the quiet after Riley went into school. “Sometimes quiet is violent”  it hit before I even left the school parking lot. I walked Riley to the door instead of the kiss and ride. Then I got back in the car and looked into the mirror and saw your empty seat and broke down into tears. I finally got it together to drive home. When I got home though I just sat there in the car and cried. Then I got out but I couldn’t get into the house. I found myself bracing on the car. When I finally got in I fell to the floor screaming. Screaming for you. Like if I called you loud enough and painfully enough you would just reappear. Then I started screaming at God. Begging for an answer to the question why? I ate breakfast and watched TV. Miss Kelly said I could come to her house but I had such a bad migraine (the crying didn’t help it) so I couldn’t drive down there and I just went to bed. I hate everything so much these days. The quiet was awful. Thoughts began to swirl around in my brain. Tyler Joseph says:  “I hate this car that I'm driving, there's no hiding for me I'm forced to deal with what I feel There is no distraction to mask what is real”  These words screamed to me. Your sister and I got drums. Nothing too expensive. I learned that Long and McQuades sells used ones and I needed something to hit and to make noise and you loved doing that with your drums or pots and pans so we headed down there last Saturday to check things out. I’ve followed along with some online lessons and so I played along to Car Radio by Twenty One Pilots on Wednesday.  I can’t play the actual drum line that Josh plays because it’s way too complicated still for my new skill level but I kept a satisfying rhythm. I need to call around for lessons. I think I might see if I can do that on my Wednesdays.  We went to the studio for Riley’s musical theatre class that day too. It was hard so I hung out in the store with Miss Amanda away from the crowd. Did you know they are grieving you too? Why does that feel strangely comforting? I mean our family is grieving but so many of our friends are too. It makes it feel less lonely. They’ve been playing a little game hiding little treasures around for the kids to find to try to cheer everyone up. Tiny babies, rocking horses and duckies. Riley loved it and wanted to find more babies. Miss Amanda has been working on a special project idea to keep your memory alive. Something to remember your “untapped potential” as Daddy described it. We like it. But it hasn’t been shared yet so I won’t say anything more here about it. But it meant a lot.  Maybe the answer to why will come. I keep thinking back to Father Dave saying that 2 weeks before Easter you entered into your own passion like the Passion of Christ and leaving us on Easter Monday. It wasn’t fair that Christ had to suffer for us and it won’t be fair that you had to suffer for whatever purpose but there has to be a purpose right? Faith is a weird thing right now. There’s anger, there’s doubt there’s, begging and pleading and praying and thanking. I don’t know. I hate all of this.  ----------------------- Car Radio - Twenty One Pilots (your sister has always liked this song too but for the drums I think) I ponder of something great My lungs will fill and then deflate They fill with fire, exhale desire, I know it’s dire my time today.                *Why do I think of you in the hospital?* I have these thoughts so often  I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought ‘cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence. Sometimes quiet is violent I find it hard to hide my pride is no longer inside It’s on my sleeve, my skin will scream reminding me of who I killed inside my dream I hate this car that I’m driving there’s no hiding for me I’m forced to deal with what I feel, There is not distraction to mask what is real  I could pull the steering wheel. I have these thoughts so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought ‘cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence. I ponder of something terrifying, ‘cause this time there’s no sound to hide behind, I find over the course of our human existence  one thing consists of consistence, and it’s that we’re all battling fear, Oh dear, I don’t know if we know why we’re here oh my, too deep, please stop thinking I liked it better when my car had sound There are things we can do but from the things that work there are only two and from the two that we choose to do Peace will win and fear will loose There’s faith and then there’s sleep We need to pick one please because faith is to be awake  and to be awake is for us to think and for us to think is to be alive and I will try with every rhyme to come across like I am dying to let you know you need to try to think I have these thoughts so often I ought to replace that slot with what I once bought Cause somebody stole my car radio and now I just sit in silence. (super cool emotional sounding bridge/breakdown here) And now I just sit in silence And now I just sit in silence And now I just sit And now I just sit in silence And now I just sit in silence And now I just sit in silence And now I just sit........ I ponder of something great My lungs will fill and then deflate They fill with fire, exhale desire I know it's dire, my time today I have these thoughts so often, I ought To replace that slot with what I once bought 'Cause somebody stole my car radio And now I just sit in silence

[beels-burger-babe]

Beelzebub's Very Bad No Good Day

***So this is the new format in which I'll be answering requests. In my experience, actual posts get spread further than asks do, so this will hopefully help with that. ANYWAY, I am crazy excited about this request as a major Beel simp and YES I will proudly do this request! Thank you @sinnoman for blessing me with it. -B*** Summary: Beel doesn't get anything to eat one day, and it doesn't go well for anybody.

From the moment Beelzebub woke up, he knew that today was going to be a terrible day. For starters, he had apparently raided the fridge in his sleep the night before, so there was not a crumb left in the house for anyone to make breakfast with. Most of the others had gone and grabbed something from Hell's Kitchen on their way to class, but poor Beel had slept through his alarm due to the food coma his nighttime snack had put him in and had to rush to RAD. The entire school was talking about the monster that they believed had awoken beneath the school. Teachers were on edge ready to evacuate the premises for the earthquake they believed to be happening. Beel avoided eye contact, blushing as his empty stomach continued to rumble and roar throughout the day. He ended up eating a few pencils just to get it to quiet down and even that didn't have much effect. The Avatar of Gluttony nearly cried tears of relief when the lunch bell rang. But it seemed that fate was not his friend that day. He was going to order a gargantuan-sized Little Devil mango slushy, a side of Hellfire curry rice, fried shadow bat, and 108 seed salad and the main course of at least twenty shadow hog burgers with three servings of caramel shadow tart for dessert. Beel was drooling at just the thought of it. He was almost at the ordering station when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Beel growled and turned around, baring his teeth at whoever dared to disturb him.

Belphegor narrowed his eyebrows in concern. "Woah. Beel, relax. It's just me. We've got a student council meeting, and Lucifer has threatened to take away supper from whoever skips out." Beelzebub scoffed as the air around him darkened at the mention of someone taking food away from him. "I'd like to see him try." Belphie raised an eyebrow at his twin's uncharacteristically grumpy behaviour. "Are you alright, Beel?" As though to answer his question, Beel's stomach let out another loud roar, causing several students to flinch and Beel to scowl in frustration. "I'm hungry." Belphie's frown deepened. Beel was always hungry, but he didn't usually let it get to him like this. The younger twin rifled through his own bag before pulling out an obviously full paper bag. "You can have my lunch if you want. I ate a little bit of it during class and swiped a bagel from Mammon during the first period, so I'm not all that-" Before he could finish Beel ripped the bag out of Belphie's hands and devoured it, bag and all. Belphie blinked at his now empty hand and chuckled as Beel chewed. "Man, you must be starving huh?"

Beelzebub merely grunted and continued to chew before swallowing down the small meal. He glanced back at the lineup in the cafeteria and put a hand on his stomach as he thought about the lunch he should be enjoying. Belphie nudged him. "Come on, big guy. We got to get to that meeting. The sooner we get it over with, the more likely it is that we'll end early and you might be able to grab something before class starts again." Only the meeting was not short and quick like Belphie had said it might be. Diavolo wanted everyone to come up with an idea for a school fundraiser, and Lucifer was arguing with Asmodeus on what was and was not appropriate. To make matters worse, you were unable to attend as, according to Mammon, your charms professor had asked you to stay behind afterwards to discuss your progress in the class. The bickering on top of the lack of food in his stomach was giving Beel a migraine and the longer he sat there, the more irritable he had become. Eventually, it became too much and he snapped. "ENOUGH!" he bellowed, flipping the table as he stood. "No one cares about the stupid fundraiser anyway and you're just wasting all of our time arguing over something that will inevitably fall apart and cause an even bigger mess, just like it always does!" "Beelzebub! Watch your tone in front of-" "Shut it, Lucifer!" his brother's gaped at him in shock as he snarled at their elder. "I am sick and tired of you pushing us all around and punishing us when the slightest thing goes wrong just because you-" Beel poked Lucifer's chest hard enough to make him take a step back, "won't take responsibility for your own mistakes!" "Oh shit," Mammon whispered under his breath, as Lucifer's eyes narrowed and his body tensed in defence. The second-born quickly squeezed his way between the two of them and spread his arms to try and create some distance. "Okay! Tensions are high. People are upset. But this is not the place to brawl it out." he glanced over at Lucifer who looked like he was a second away from stringing him up to the ceiling. "Might I remind ya Lord Diavolo is still in the room?" Lucifer looked over at Diavolo, who appeared to be both hurt and concerned by Beelzebub's words, before sighing and fixing his composure. He gave Beel a hard look. "Obviously something is upsetting you, but we can discuss this at home. For the time being, I recommend you work on calming yourself and clearing your head." Beel just growled at him before stomping out of the student council room. He had been about to re-enter the cafeteria again when the bell rang signalling the end of lunch hour. Beelzebub felt his eye twitch before his demon form burst into existence. He let out a deafening scream as he grabbed a table and threw it across the room (students still seated on it, included). Students were yelling and scrambling like mice as the large demon rampaged through the halls. He tore the locked grate off of the serving station and grabbed the nearest server by the scruff of the collar, causing them to squeak in fear. "I'm hungry," Beel rumbled lowly as the demon trembled in his hands. "Get me something to eat now or I will not hesitate to eat you." "R-R-Right away, Beelzeb-b-bub." Beel carelessly dropped the demon, who scattered off to gather as much food as they could. He began pacing like a caged animal. Having been alerted by all the noise, his brothers and Diavolo rushed into the nearly destroyed cafeteria. Diavolo's jaw dropped. "Beelzebub, what's the meaning of all this?" Beel's famished brain didn't acknowledge Diavolo as an authority at the moment. Instead, he was yet another person trying to keep him from eating. "I need food. NOW!" Lucifer's eyes widened in realization as he whispered something to Diavolo. The prince nodded and took a step back. "I'm sure the cooks are doing all they can to get you food right away. But I need you to control yourself before I am forced to take action." Satan had his phone out and was urgently texting someone, as Belphie moved forward.

"You'll get your food shortly Beel. You just need to wai-" "I don't want to wait!!" There was a part of Beelzebub's brain that was aware he was acting like a child. But his stomach physically hurt from how empty it was. He was tired. He was starving. He didn't have the patience for pleasantries. "I've barely eaten anything all day, and people keep staring and talking about me because my stomach just will not stop growling and I'm so hungry that I can barely think straight! I hate it! But I know it won't go away unless I eat, so I NEED TO EAT!" The brothers looked at Beel in shock. They knew that he ate a lot, but they always passed it off as just another quirk that made him Beel. They didn't know it bothered him like this. They thought back on all the instances where Beel had stated that he was hungry out of nowhere, always with a distressed look on his face. Every single time they had brushed him off. Before any of them could respond, you casually walked into the war zone that was the cafeteria. "Alright Satan, what's so urgent that you needed me so badly?" The room fell quiet as everyone's attention snapped over to you and you took in the situation. It didn't take long for you to connect the dots.

You immediately began to rush over to Beelzebub; Mammon stepped forward to stop you. "Woah, MC! I don't think that's a good idea right now!"

You ignored him and continued to make your way to Beel. Seeing you, the small human that you were, made Beel realize just how reckless he had been acting. He held out his hands to stop you and took a step away. "You should listen to Mammon, MC. I-I haven't eaten all day and I-" "You haven't eaten all day?! Oh god, this is worst than I thought." Beel watched as you slid the oversized backpack that he had seen you carry around RAD with you every day off your back and begin to dump out the contents. In a second, dozens of bags of chips, candy, fruits, and other snacks spilled across the floor in front of the two of you. Beel didn't waste a single moment. He instantly began consuming the snacks, causing you to smile happily. "Wha-What?! MC?! Why the hell do you have that much food on ya?!" Mammon sputtered as he cautiously began to approach you. You shrugged. "Beel gets upset when he's hungry, and I don't like it when he's upset. So I stocked up on some of his favourite snacks a while back and always keep them on me just in case," Beel paused his eating to look up at you in awe, "He can't help that he's always hungry. It's not like he asked to be the Avatar of Gluttony." Suddenly there were a pair of arms wrapped around your waist. Lucifer, Levi, and Mammon called out your name as Beel pulled you tightly against his chest. You just grinned and hugged the friendly giant back. "Thank you," he whispered softly into your hair, his arms tightening around you just a little more. "There's nothing to thank me for." As Beel finally began to calm down, the cooks came out with platters of food and shakily laid them out around you and Beel before taking cover back into the kitchen. Seeing that the threat had passed, the other brothers began to approach as well. "You know Beel, I didn't know you had that much pent-up anger inside of you. It was terrifying!" Asmodeus chirped as he plopped down beside the two of you.

"Yeah! You were just like the antagonist in My Boyfriend Turned Into a Cannabilistic Rage Monster, And Now I Have to Stop Him From Devouring The Whole City!!!" Levi began to ramble about specific scenes from the show that matched perfectly with Beel's rampage, causing Beel to blush as he munched on a burger. Belphie sighed and elbowed Beel as he took his seat at his side. "We'll have to make sure that MC's always around you. Just in case you know?" he smiled softly, before looking at his twin with a more serious expression. "You should've told me about all that stuff you said earlier. I had no idea you felt that away about your appetite." Beel looked away uncomfortably as he took another bite of his food and avoided the question. You snuggled closer to him, to provide him with some comfort. Satan tapped his chin as he watched the group. "I'm sure we could talk with Barbatos and come up with some sort of high-protein shake or bar that would better satisfy you. That way you wouldn't have to eat as much." Lucifer glanced over at Diavolo, silently asking if it was a possibility. The prince smiled warmly. "I'll have Barabatos begin working on something right away." Forgetting all about class and the anger that had previously consumed him, Beel looked around at his family. A warm feeling blossomed in his stomach as he felt content with the rare care and affection that they were openly showing. Maybe it had something to do with the thirty burgers he had already ate, but for just a second, Beel didn't feel so hungry anymore. ***Boy that got a little angsty there for a second, but I hope this was to your liking @sinnoman! I definitely enjoyed writing this one, and I think it made me fall in love with my boy Beel even more 🥰*** TAGLIST: @vampwiire @bunna-does-stuff

[dreamifics]

James Potter x Reader

Oneshot

Warning:just angst and sad fluff ig

A letter for James Fleamont Potter

Dear James Potter,

Hey, what's up? That's a lousy letter starter after years of pretending you guys didn't exist.. This would be a rollercoaster of emotions, so try to keep up. Remember when we first met? You were in Ollivanders, buying a wand when you accidentaly almost killed me?

A little girl was walking pass a shop called Ollivanders, she was simply minding her own business when a ray of magic blast to her.. She fell on her butt first, her hair was a mess, she looked like she got burnt..

"Oh, dear godric!I'm very sorry!" A little boy about the same age as the girl came running out of the store.. He had a messy hair and thick glasses, he gave the girl an apologetic smile..

"What in the bloody hell are you doing?!" The girl was mad, who wouldn't? She was just simply having a great day when an idiot almost killed her..

"Buying wands?" He answered unsure. He was just shopping for wands when this very powerful surge made him lose control and it blast to her.

"I look like a mess, Mother would be infuriated..", The girl mumbles to herself as she stands up.. She huffs and glare at the boy.

"I'm James, by the way.."

"I'm Y---"

"Y/N L/N!!WHAT HAPPEND TO YOU?!" Her mother's voice boomed all throughout the alley causing some wizards to look at them..

"Goodbye, you bloody idiot.." Y/N mutters to herself.

"I heard that!"

"You were supposed to hear that!"

And that was the start of our friendship.. You little dim wit, but I'm thankful for that, because I got to meet you.. Did you know that I was not very fond of you? You just wore me down, you're a persistent arse.. But now, it all made sense to me..

What my gut was telling me about you.. You were-- no no, you're still my downfall, James.. I clearly remember when it all daunt to me, the how and why? I'm still unsure about the answer to those two questions. I'm guessing you know what I'm talking about, if you don't... I'll say it or write it now..

I'm hopelessly fucking in love with you, I realized that when you went and announced your relationship with Lily.. There was this painfully hurtful jealousy in my heart and brain.. And I couldn't get rid of those stupid feelings for you..

It was another dreary Sunday in Hogwarts, Y/N was with the Marauders except for James, they were eating at the great hall.. They were talking, teasing and annoying each other when James entered with Lily in his arms.. That image broke Y/N to thousands of little pieces, she suddenly became one with the universe.

"She finally said yes, mates!" James announced causing all of the students to cheer and screamed, obviously happy.

To Y/N, the news broke her.. She was fine with James crushing to Lily because she though Lily was not interested.. But after years of pining and persuasion, she finally said yes. Y/N should've seen it coming, she should be happy for them but why is she hurting?

"Aren't you happy for us, Y/N?"

Y/N was called back from her thoughts, the question echoed through her mind.. Oh dear Godric, she was not happy.. She wanted to be the one under James arms, or to be the one to kiss him in the lips.. She love James, not like platonic, this was so much more.. She wanted to be Lily so bad, ofcourse she's not bloody happy!

"Of course, I am!Congratulations, Prongs!"

But what could she do? Y/N would have lost that battle years ago, she was not James type.. What could she do but just pretend that she was happy and fine with them.. She was dead sure that she'll forget all about James someday.. So until that day comes, she needs to fake a smile and accept her fate.

Loving your bestfriend is the worst thing in the world, James.. I wanted to confess so bad, but the idea of losing you was a heavy baggage to carry.. So, I settled by just being your friend but you don't know how many times I've wanted to confess..

To go up to you and smashed my lips into yours but you were in a relationship with Lily, so I never did anything.. You were happy, and that was enough for me.. And don't get me wrong, I tried to find someone else but you were the best James..

It has been weeks since James and Lily got together, no one knew how she felt.. She was all alone, fighting her feelings from overcoming her. Y/N was sitting in the library, reading a muggle book called 'Wuthering Heights'..

However she hated it, she was bitter and had no time for lovey dovey books.. Y/N needed to move on, she shouldn't be stuck on James..

"Hey, Y/N!"

Y/N was startled by a Hufflepuff student, she smiled and laughed..

"I'm sorry if I startled you, I--I just have a question to ask you.."

Y/N squint her eyes, she doesn't even know this guy.. She rattled her brain for any recollection of this guy..The guy saw her confused face and chuckled.

"I'm Oliver Rigby, the captain of the Hufflepuff quidditch team.."

"Ohhh, yeah.." She just murmured but she had no idea who this guy is.

"I was just wondering if you wanted to go to Hogsmeade this weekend?"

Y/N was taken aback but she needed to move on, she can no longer be hung up on a guy that doesn't even loves her back.

"Sure.."

"Alright!I'll pick you up then!"

Y/N just smiled and walked away, she was reluctant to moved on.. Her heart was still beating for James, but she needs to move on.. For her own sake.

They were nothing compared to you, I tried to moved on.. But I always ended up to you, the same feelings always came rushing in when I see you.. Every guy seems horrible when compared to you.. The short period of time we spent together was wonderful, you gave me purpose when no one else did.

Y/N has just come back from a very horrible date, the guy did nothing but talk and brag about himself.. He was not like James who was funny and talks about entertaining stories.. The guy was not sweet nor kind, he was a bit of an ass.. That's the only thing he had in common with James, she sighs and sat in one of the sofa in the common room..

No one can beat James to Y/N, her standards were bloody high because of James.. She wanted to cry but that was stupid.. Crying over a guy who didn't even hurt her, she hates herself.

"Hey."

Y/N heart skipped a beat, she knows who's voice is that.. That voice gives her butterflies, she loves how that voice says her name..

"James.."

"Thought you had a date?Why are you back so early?" He questioned.

"O-Ohh.."

"Did he stood you up? I reckon he'd do that, he looked like a douche to me."

"Sure.." She answered not looking at him, James sits next to her and put her arms around Y/N.. She felt her body stiffen as his body made contact with her.. Y/N silently prayed that James wouldn't notice her increasing heartbeat, the stiffening of her body and the way her cheeks blush..

"Are you alright?" James seems to notice his bestfriend all red and she looked like very uncomfortable..

"What if I said no, what would you do?"

"Make you feel better, ofcourse!" His laughs echoed through the whole Gryffindor tower.. Y/N let out a dry laugh, she didn't mean that.. But her heart was breaking into thousands of pieces, she want this feeling out of her system.

"Are you really alright?"

"Yeah, maybe.."

"Want to talk---"

"Jameees!" Lily's voice called the attention of the messy-haired boy..

"I'll be right back, Lily needs me.."

"B-But what about me?" Y/N tried her very best to not choke up and crack.

"Later, Y/N.." James messed her hair, she didn't meant to be demanding however this was the sign she was looking for.. The sign that James doesn't feel anything special for her, she was just James very annoying friend..Y/N realized that with one call, Lily has James wrapped around her perfect fingers, with only one call from Lily, James was gone.. He just left her hurting friend for Lily, Y/N suddenly felt her heart was no longer there..

It was bruised and beated so many times, and now.. Y/N chest is nothing but a vacant lot, an empty hollow space.. The tiny little hope that maybe James likes her back can no longer be found.

That hope was now gone.

Y/N had reached her limit, it was truly over.. The love and jealousy she feels was a heavy baggage to carry. Y/N needed to avoid James, just until she was fully okay..

Y/N knew deep inside her that her love for James will never fully go away..

Avoiding you was the only reasonable thing to do, to be frank.. It was the only thing to do.. If I kept up that silly facade, I would ended up being mental.. You see James, jealousy is a monster that takes over your whole mind and body. It's a hideous monster you can't escape.. I do have a few questions, did you notice the not-so-subtle cold shoulder I gave you? Because back then it seems like you didn't, did you though? Did you cry every night like I did? Or did your heart break like mine did?

Y/N finally got out of her bed, she was in the great hall, hundreds of feet away from James.. But from the looks of it, he didn't really seem to mind.. He was too busy whispering sweet nothings to Lily's ear.

"If your glares could kill, Evans and Potter would be dead now.." Her friend intoned, she snapped her head away from the sight of James.

"I don't what your talking about.." Y/N denied..

"Of course, you don't.." Her friend tease.

"If my looks can kill, you will be the first one dead.." Y/N gave her friend a glare which her friends just brushed off.

"Blimey!No need to get mad, I was just stating facts.."

"Just sod off." Y/N just played with the food in her plate.

"If you told James about your feelings, he would've ask you out." Y/N's friend said in a teasing manner..

"No, he would never do that.."

"And how do you know that?" Y/n rolled her eyes at her friends question.

"Because I knew James, he was inlove with Lily since the start of our first year. "

"That's what you think.." Her friend crosses her arms and smirk at her.

"What?" She questioned confused.

"Nothing, idiot.. You won't understand.."

"O-kay?"

"Look Y/N, just move on.." Y/N scoffs at her friends genius idea.

"You make it sound like it's so bloody easy.."

"Is it not?You cry about it for a day then you find someone else.. " Y/N looked at her friend with a surprised gaze, is it that easy? How come it's so hard for her?

"See, easy.."

"Sod off.." She shut her friend down as thoughts occupied her mind..

Y/N was walking down the silent halls of Hogwarts alone, a frown in her face she hasn't been smiling this past few weeks.. Her back suddenly stood straight when the four familiar faces welcomed her when she entered an empty classroom.

"Oh, hello Y/N.." Sirius was the first to greet her with a big smile on his face but she didn't give the smile back.

"Y/N!I was wondering where you were these past few weeks.." Remus gave her a comforting smile.

"Yeah, I had no one to eat my sweets with!" Peter walked up to Y/N and offered her a chocolate which she didn't accept.

"I apologize, I have to go now.."

"But Y/N--" Peter didn't get to finish the sentence, she was gone, James didn't even look up from his seat.. Did he forgot all about Y/N? But Y/N didn't feel anything anymore.. Funny how numbness can have it's perks sometimes..

Maybe you didn't notice me because you were so inlove with pretty little Evans? That came out a little rude, I apologize for that, but I'm not sorry.. You see, I don't hate Lily, but then again kinda wish she were dead.. She was all you saw James, I was with you through your worst.. I gave you everything, but what do I get in return?

Just heartaches and neverending what-ifs.. You never saw me James.. Remember the day we graduated and left Hogwarts? You didn't even say goodbye to me, not even a single glance James.. I was not the only one who gave up on our friendship.. We both did, James..

Riding the Hogwarts train one last time was a bittersweet moment for others.. To Y/N, it was a relief.. She would finally get to leave the place that reminds her of James, every corner and walls was embedded with memories of Y/N and James having fun with each other.. It may sound nice but it only brought misery to her.

"Y/N!We're getting off now.." Y/N's friend broke her silent trance.. Y/N stands up and exits the train, her feet hit the platform floor, Y/N took a deep breath and wander her eyes to the sea of graduate  students. Some were celebrating, some were crying and there Y/N saw him..

James had Lily under his arms as they talk with the rest of the Marauders.. Disappointment was written all over Y/N's face, this was the last day they would be able to see each other and James didn't even glance at her.. They were friends for years, she couldn't belive that their friendship was beyond repair..

"Quit staring at him, your looking pathetic." Y/N whispers under her breath, walking away without saying goodbye was not how she planned her last day in Hogwarts. Y/N was moving to America and will work in the Ministry of Magic there.. She does not want to work in the same place that James and Lily was going to work at..

Y/N needs to really move on, and America would be the place for it.. Atleast there, she's far away from any reminders of James or Lily.. Holding her trunk, she walks away from her old life.. No more heartaches, just miserable thoughts and lots of what ifs.

Moving here didn't even help, I'm still inlove with you.. You might be confused about why I'm just sending this letter to you now.. Well Mister Potter, I just got an invitation to your wedding and I'm very very drunk right now.. I didn't think you would really send me an invitation because you know were just strangers.. We spent years ignoring each other and now this bloody envelope shows up at my home..

How did you even knew my address? Were you keeping tabs on me? If that's the case then I'm very flattered and also a little bit creeped out but that's not the point! The point is, I'm not going to your wedding because I'm still fucking inlove with you.. I hope you enjoy the wedding though, also don't bother writing back.. I would never remember this anyway, so James.. Give Love, Peace, and Chicken Grease.

Sincerely,

Y/N L/N

If you guys have any request for imagines about ( marvel characters, DC characters, stranger things, game of thrones, brooklyn 99, friends, basically anything! I accept everything!)

[katsukikitten]

Ready Set COOK!

A/N have this random ass fic I cranked out cause I watched some food network. I hope you all enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

"Y/N is arguable the best cook in the dorms." Mina says salivating over the thought of dinner as 1A figures out what they are going to try to convince you to make.

"Tch. Yea fucking right. I cook the best!" Bakugou chimes in suddenly flipping through the channels with fever.

"Ha!" You laugh dryly, "Maybe when I'm having a bad day."

He grinds his teeth as he glares at you, channel surfing forgotten.

"Let's settle this." He snarls although he barely moves from his lounging position.

"How do you declare we do that spicy boi?" A hush suddenly falls over the room at your most recent and his most hated nickname.

Explosions threaten to pop but the TV blares before he can.

"THIS WEEK ON COOK OFF!"

"OH OH!" Kirishima pipes in, jumping up to point at the TV frantically.

"Fuck no." Bakugou bites out, sending daggers the red heads way.

"Oh come on Bakugou it will be fun!" He whines only to be shut down again. This time with an explosion. The hot head jumps to his feet with smoking hands.

"I SAID FUCK NO!"

"Why? Too scared you'll get your ass kicked?" You prompt, looking at your nails as you speak. He stalks your way leaning over you as you sit on the couch.

"I'm too scared you'll lose so badly you'll have to commit seppuku to regain your honor." The tension is palpable in the large living room, making some of the students feel small from its weight.

"Oh so you admit you worry about me?" You say in your most flirtatious voice, placing your hand onto his shoulder because you love to get under his skin. He jerks back with crazed eyes.

"I don't give a fuck about any of you extras!"

"Good! Now we need judges. Todoroki?" You ask but Bakugou shakes his head.

"His palette is as expanded as a fucking toddler's." The ash blonde shakes his head, "Mother fucker eats cold soba for breakfast lunch AND dinner."

"Ouch." An invisible arrow pierces the two toned boy in the chest.

"Well..." You look around the room, "It can't be biased..."

"Deku? Oh no wait then you'll use him as an *excuse* when you lose." You giggle, his cheeks burn from the sound.

"Fuck you and fuck Deku." He snarls, "What about Shinso?"

"Aaahh that's a good one. He hates everyone equally." You chime in, placing your hand in your chin as you look over your peers.

"Wow glad you noticed." He rolls his amethyst eyes although he does not object.

"Oh Denki!" You point at the electric

"OMG YES MY TIME TO SHINE BABY!" He fists his hands into the pants of your legs, so happy to be included.

"NO! Not pikachu! His brain is FRIED!" Bakugou snarls and Denki let's out a sad 'hey' while a crocodile tear rolls down his cheek.

"Yes, that's what would make him the best wild card! You'll never know what he's gonna think!" You absentmindedly let your hand pet over the curve of his skull.

Part of you wonders if suggesting him is a bad idea. Your eyes flicker to the TV just to see someone asking the sweating chefs what they are planning.

"Kirishima can be the host!" You say with excitement, "Now we just need one more judge. Someone who likes to eat."

Silence settles over the room aside from the now low roar of the TV

"I've got it!" Your new ruby eyed host pipes in, "I'll ask Sun Eater senpai!"

"He's so meek. How are you going to get him to agree?" You ask as a some what devilish smile crosses his face.

"Oi, I forgot you came in after. Poor guy got pestered by shitty hair until he said yes to taking him to his agency." Bakugou crosses his arms.

"We'll compete tomorrow! I've got to prepare!" You stare after Kirishima who runs to get his phone, you cant see him bullying someone into helping him.

×××××××××

You had never been proven more wrong as you stand in the dorms over sized kitchen in front of the panel of judges.

Shinso who looks bored, Denki who reminds you of a kid hopped up on sugar and a petrified Tamaki.

"Welcome chefs!" Kirishima announces, it's funny how quickly he made the kitchen look much like the studio. Even forcing you and Bakugou into real chef jackets while Kirishima wears one of his suits.

"Oi, you really went all out." He growls, somehow making the compliment sound like an insult. You roll your eyes before you let them linger over Bakugou. Much like you he wears the black jacket with the sleeves rolled to the elbows, he has a towel resting over a broad shoulder.

Somehow this outfit makes your cheeks burn. You swallow, looking out over the "live" audience, aka class 1A with every chair they could find in the dorm piled into the smallest part of the kitchen.

Sitting on the edges of their seats.

"Today the two of you will be placed head to head agaisnt one another to become UA's top chef!" Kirishima announces with gusto even earning a small cheer from the audience.

"Tonights prize does not only include bragging rights BUT this!" He gestures widely to the obviously paper mache trophy, Bakugou snorts.

"Really? You could have asked Momo over there?" He points in the dark and Kirishima blushes a bit. Although he is saved as Momo walks towards the front, not breaking the attire with her long sleep dress that looks more like a ball room gown. Kirishima thanks her silently before punching the old trophy off with the new one.

"Who will when this amazing trophy and the title of UA's top chef?" Kirishima looks to the audience before adding, "Let's find out!"

"Contestants, today's challenge is broken down into three parts. Appetizer, entree and dessert! The three dishes must meld flawlessly with one another! You have ten minutes to look over the ingredients and come up with a meal plan. Starting.....now!"

The two of you jump, pulling open at the two large fridges behind you to be met with an array of vegetables and meats.

"Are they like timed?" Shinso asks, as he twirls his fork.

"Good question, Shinso. Yes each portion of the competition will be timed!"

As you begin to put together your game plan you rush towards the pantry. Fear making you hesitate, the pantry was mostly empty just yesterday.

"Oi! Open the fucking door!" A yell behind you before you rip open the cabinet with blatant rage.

Surprisingly the pantry is popping at the seams, ingredients pop out at you that you hastily grab.

"Chefs your time is up! You have fifteen minutes to begin prepare your first dish! GO!"

Excitement pushes your body into motion as you slice bacon strips down the middle. Your thoughts compete with the vigorous chopping from the station next to you as you delicately wrap sliced puff pastry around the now bacon wrapped asparagus.

"Chef Bakugou what are you preparing?"

"Use your fucking eyes." He growls, adding something to a bowl.

"Hey..." Kirishima sounds crestfallen, almost hurt and its hurt enough for Katuski to sigh.

"Alright alright. I'll tell you. Stop pouting!" He chops into a radish harshly to emphasize his point before going on.

"I believe its important to go a little on the lighter side for a starter. Almost refreshing cleanses the palette." Your ears perk at his deep voice as you pull your starter from the oven, "So I'm making a radish and cucumber salad with rice vinager and chili flakes for a small kick."

"It looks wonderful chef!" Kirshima comments before adding, "Five minutes to plate!"

"Shit..." You hiss to yourself as you delicately arrange your asparagus twists, while popping hands roast sesame seeds in an instant before tossing them into the salad.

The two if you plate, arrange and present until kirishima finally shouts

"TIMES UP! STEP AWAY FROM THE PLATES!" Both of you back away with raised hands.

"First up. Y/N-chan." Kirishima says happily as the judges look over their food.

Shinso takes a bite first.

"Flavorful. Savory. Its delicious." Is all he offers as he eats his second.

"Kaminari?" Kirishima prompts. Denki is smiling ear to ear before a rare seriousness washes over his features as he chews.

"I dont like asparagus." He states with a harsh tone.

"IM FUCKED!" You scream internally.

"But you've made me like it."

"IM UNFUCKED!"

Kaminari takes another bite, thinking it over

"The puff pastry is airy and buttery and surprisingly the bacon is crispy without your vegetable drying out. Very well done."

You glance at Bakugou who mouths

"Is he fucking Gorden Ramsey now?" To which you giggle.

"Tamaki senpai, please do not judge on usefulness for your quirk but by taste." Kirishima encourages as Tamaki almost shrinks away. He takes a bite before smiling.

"I..its delicious. Togata would enjoy this."

"Next up Bakugou!"

"Nice kick, cool cuc flavor. I like it." Shinso nods to Bakugou as he makes a mark in on the pad provided.

"Honestly, Chef Katsuki. I was really worried about the heat level when I saw your heavy handed toss of pepper flakes into the salad. But the flakes really bring out the tang of the rice vinager, the smoky flavor of the sesame seed while the radish and cucumber take the edge away *just* enough." Kaminari says before taking another bite, scribbling as he chews.

This time Bakugou looks to you and you laugh aloud at his bewildered scarlet eyes.

"Just got with it!" You call from your station. Struggling to keep your giggle.

Who knew confusion could look so cute?

"Its just the right amount of spice. Togata would enjoy this."

"Take your station, Katsuki as we will now begin the main course. You have thirty five minutes to prepare!"

Time ticks by faster than you'd like as your watched pot of water finally boils. You add in chopped golden potatoes setting a timer before butter flying your chicken breasts for a more even cook and better grilled sear.

Bakugou works furiously with his steak, pounding at it to quickly tenderize it, adding an aromatic garlic herb butter to a heated pan. He swirls the melting blob until it coats the bottom of the pan.

Both of you are about to start your meats before Kirishima breaks your concentration.

"Chefs! I've found an ingredient you HAVE to incorporate into your main dish." He presents a rectangular package that has you seething.

"KIRISHIMA WHAT THE FUCK?!" You both yell in unison, slamming your meats on your cutting boards.

"Dry packs of ramen noodles!" He announces in case either of you couldn't read the damn packaging!

"What the fuck?" Is all the two of you can say as you're tossed the package of ramen noodles. You stare at your dish, you couldn't easily shift your meal plan into Asian like Bakugou could thanks to his universal salad. The dishes had to be cohesive and you had fucking POTATOES BOILING TO BE MASHED

You stare almost stunned as the red rectangle stares back at you.

You hated ramen.

Meanwhile Bakugou grumbles to himself as he slices his steak into thin strips, adding ginger, a bit of sesame seed oil, green onion and some beef broth to boil.

He tosses in the package of ramen.

"This is cheap shit." He grumbles to himself before adding the steak in a few moments later slamming a lid onto the pan. He was lucky he picked a deep pan as opposed to his original idea of a shallow one.

"Half of the time is remaining chefs!"

"Perfect!" You slam your fist into your palm as you make haste. Quickly grabbing eggs, milk, flour and the food processor.

You begun to crush the noodles until they become a fine grain.

"Eji do we have to use the stupid flavor packet?"

"Fucking why would you ask?!" Bakugou snarls your way, ruby red eyes slide to the panel.

"Judges?"

"No." They answer in unison and you both sigh in relief. For you it would have been hard to incorporate to your sudden idea of fried chicken while the flavoring would be too salty and undercut the flavor building he had done for his dish.

You mash your potatoes, adding in garlic cloves, cubes of butter, a bit of season salt all before emulsifying it to a whipped state.

"Five minutes chefs!"

You begin to really sweat now, you didnt want to rush your chicken for fear of the batter not becoming crispy enough or worse yet an undercooked breast.

"Three minutes chefs!"

"Fuck! Cook chicky cook!" You mumble to the fryer, scarlet eyes shift to your bouncing frame, plating his own food, swiping juices that splatter.

"Come on plate damn it! It's done!" He shouts to you.

"You *do* care!" You tease, although your heart is in your throat as you place the chicken onto the plate, drizzling a honied mustard over the breasts.

"Like hell. It's just winning by default is boring. I want to watch them spit your food out." His voice comes out soaking in malice but his eyes say otherwise. Mischief and excitement dance along his scarlet iris.

"AND TIME!" You both step away from your plates. Breathing heavily as the two of you look down at your master pieces.

Bakugou places his hand on the small of your back to guide you in front of the panel as Kirishima grabs your dishes.

"Bakugou you're up first."

"This is not thirty cent ramen." Is all Shinso says as he slurps up the noodles before biting into the beef. No one misses his eyes flutter.

"Wow." Is all Kaminari can say chewing with delight, "Just wow. I would have thought the noodles were homemade. The beef is tender, all cooked evenly. The sauce flavorful, a hit of ginger and I'm surprised you hadn't added any heat. I would have loved to have seen a five alarm ramen from you."

Bakugou grinds his teeth to keep from shouting at his last remark.

"Togata would enjoy this."

"I'll be sure to make him a to go plate." Kirishima winks before presenting your dish.

"I never would have thought to use ramen as breeding." Purple eyes glitter as he devours the chicken.

"Me either. Its excellently light, you matured everyone's favorite honey mustard by making it with a sharper brown mustard and the potatoes are soft, beautifully whipped and garlicy!"

"This is 'southern food?'" Tamaki asks, "Togata would like it."

You smile warmly.

"Last round chefs! You'll have forty five minutes to prepare a dessert with *this* ingredient." He holds up a green can and your stomach sinks.

"Is that fucking wasabi?" Bakugou snarls, even the heat king is stunned.

"Yes chef it is. Please incorporate this ingredient into your dish. Starting...NOW!"

You stare at the green can. What in the actual fuck? Maybe you should have made a menu more geared towards Asian cuisine.

I mean you were in FUCKING JAPAN AFTER ALL.

You snatch onto the can, now was not the time to damn yourself. You could do this. You could beat Bakugou!

Even if it killed you.

You decided to taste it, youd never actually had it, just knew that it was potent.

"That's too much idiot!" Bakugou yells from his station just as your about to put a heaping teaspoon into your mouth.

"Like scoop with a chop stick." He says, showing you himself. His chopstick dips into the wasabi to return with the smallest of green.

You mimic him, popping it into your mouth as instant regret washes over you as you try to break down the components of the flavor.

It was hot with underlying notes of freshness, almost herbal as the heat began to fade.

But with that regret comes an idea.

You work vigorously grabbing all the chocolate you can find before making a batch of brownies, wasabi mixed into the batter.

Nothing was more southern than cake or a brownie.

"I'll fucking tell you what..." You finish the thought aloud as you worked.

All the while Bakugou glances to you with concerned eyes before he measures out the perfect amount of coconut milk to reduce with almond milk, a split vanilla pod, some sugar, honey and wasabi powder.

Soon his odd mixture becomes fragrant, the freshness of it competing with the richness of baking brownies.

Time ticks by too quickly as you snatch the wasabi powder from Bakugou adding the smallest amount to powdered sugar, cocoa and milk as you make the frosting to your brownies.

You feel like you're ahead of time as your plate, eyes looking over to Bakugou who is garnishing ramekins with edible flowers and flakes of coconut.

"Fuck." You murmur before pipping on some icing. Smoothing it out with a knife. Plating it as Kirishima obnoxiously counts down.

"Time!" He yells. You're shaking before glancing at Bakugou who seems nervous himself. Again he guides you to the panel, you lean into him for a bit of support.

Your heart was racing, sweat still dripping down the nape of your neck and beading on your brow.

You couldn't tell who's dishes they favored and there was a chance you could very well lose.

You'd hate to admit but Bakugou's station smelt fucking amazing all night.

"Y/N!" Kirishima smiles a wide tooth smile, "Wasabi brownies. Interesting."

"You mean fucking fire." Shinso says.

"Its astounding how the chocolate adds to the heat with out one overpowering the other. A delicate scale was balanced today."

You find Bakugou's hand by his side. giving it a squeeze to keep yourself form laughing. He leans towards you and whispers into your ear.

"Bet you're regretting adding Flavor Town onto the board."

A giggle escapes your lips that drives Katuski mad.

"Togata would love this! Please save a square for him!"

The judges cleanse their palates before moving into Bakugou's dessert.

"So delicate." Shino adds, looking down at the purple flowers.

"Watch it." He bites but you again squeeze his hand, this time whispering to him

"That means he likes it. You did an amazing job plating."

He watches you smile as you drink in their comments about *his * dish.

"I like that you start and finish things with a refreshing yet memorable dish. The edible flowers add immense color to this dish, the wasabi heightens the sweetness of the honey and the coconut flakes add a little bit of both crunch and depth. Excellent."

"So pretty..." Tamkai stares at his dessert before adding a small bite into his mouth. His eyes flutter and you know then that you've lost.

That's two different judges with different meals that he has impressed. He squeezes your hands, you look up to him expecting a smug smile only to see nervousness.

"The judges will now debate. Please sit in the waiting room while they discuss who will be UA's top chef!"

"Where the fuck is that?" The blonde snarls.

"The living room!" He whispers as you drag an agitated Bakugou with you.

The two of you sit in silence, sinking into the couches with tired bodies.

Adrenaline can do that to you. Minutes tick by before you sigh out.

"I'm pretty sure you won. You..." You gush, "Amazing. That salad looked so damn good!"

Katuski cannot help the smile that spreads across his face as he watches you sing his praises.

"Honestly your southern dishes were something new to them. That's far better and seriously ramen as a breeding? Innovative as fuck." He sags in the couch closer to you. The two of you half fighting over who really one by pointing out the best moves the other did.

Gradually gravitating closer to one another with heatedexcitement fueled by friendly competition. The two of you are butting foreheads as you argue.

"But the flowers were stunning...." The vigor in your tone dies down as you stare into something else that else stunning.

Scarlet eyes sparkle like gems in the low light of the side table lamps. Suddenly you are hyper aware of your proximity to him. You try to scoot back only for your hip to hit the arm of the couch, barely moving a centimeter. You were safely nestled between the couch and his amazingly muscular arms.

Bakugou swallows his desire as he drinks you in this close, having never realizing how pretty you actually were.

Add that to your ability to kick ass on the battle field and in the kitchen had Bakugou looking at you in a whole new light. He seems to choke on his desire as one strong hand finds the nape of your neck.

"I bet nothing tastes as delicious as your lips." He says before pressing his own to yours.

The saying alone has your body flushed and a small whimper erupts in the back of your throat as you closed your eyes.

Shit.

You liked arrogant, smart mouthed, excellent chef handsome ass Bakugou.

And now that you've tasted him, you'll never want to eat anything else again.

You kiss him back with matched passion and the two of you forget about the competition for a moment. Foot steps had the two of you breaking apart, cheeks burning brighter than the boy's hair whose entered the living room just missing everything.

"They are ready to announce the winner." He turns on his heel, expecting the two of you to follow. Both of you share a look before standing. Bakugou wraps his arm around your waist pulling you close to him so he can whisper in the cockiest tone he can muster.

"After they announce me as winner. Let me make you dessert."

@we-starlight-in-the-making @kiribakuho @babybakuu @zbops @crimsondream-1 @alwaysmy crazy ass did it. I made the fic I wanted

[razanartuk]

about me tag game thing

i was tagged by the wonderful @nothingunrealistic! thank you very much ily <3

under read more bc i was not capable of keeping my answers brief this time around

why did you choose your url?

this...was supposed to be a short explanation but it turned into quite a tale so strap in i guess because we are going on a ride. back in 2017 i was just getting into musical theatre rp and i was still feeling too shy to really talk to anyone ooc so i would just wait for people i wanted to interact with to post starter calls so i could just do things in character with them the easy way. So i did this with my friend cam, who posted a starter for me using a lyric from If I Could Tell Her. she linked the song so i could listen to it, so i did and i went ‘wait a minute, is that Ben Platt from Pitch Perfect?? (and other things too, but i only recognized his voice at the time bc of the acappella girl movies)’ and yes it certainly was.

i had zero idea what the plot of Dear Evan Hansen was about at that point, and for some reason based off Just That One Song and the poster art of who i assumed was Some Guy in a Polo Shirt i started to think it was about some jock guy who broke his arm and had an emo/goth friend who had either died or gone missing under mysterious circumstances. also i intuited that Evan had a crush on his friend’s sister but he couldn’t tell her that directly or his emo friend would kick his ass. so i was like mostly wrong, but a little bit right.

oh and i knew jared and alana were characters from the show bc cam said that they were i think?? but i had no idea what their role was. so after listening to if i could tell her, i listened to good for you and all i really got out of that was that evan the apparently not-jock guy had done...something... that really hurt jared and alana. and at that point i finally decided to go look up a plot synopsis and i found out i was waaay off base. but honestly this is why cast recordings should include scene dialogue in the songs bc otherwise you just get soundtracks like dear evan hansen where the songs have like. zero context. we really just go from waving through a window to for forever to sincerely me without like. any reason as to what is happening huh. It’s honestly not a surprise anymore that all those people on twitter had no idea the plot isn’t about gay teenagers.

anyways. cam was writing jared and she made a post at one point about wishing somebody would write alana and i was like ‘oh i could do that!’ (after i had actually Seen a bootleg and finally knew what the whole story was, of course) so i made a multimuse rp blog featuring alana beck, nabulungi hatimbi, chloe valentine and some other characters, and cam started sharing her headcanons with me that alana is trans, jared and alana were close friends when they were little kids but they sort of drifted apart as they got older and their priorities in life changed, jared was the first person alana came out to when she realized she’s trans, etc.

one night i started talking about wanting to pick a more theatre-relevant url for my blog and trans-[character name] urls were getting pretty popular, and at least 3 of the friends i made through rp had changed theirs to coordinating trans-[character name] and i think it was cam suggested i should make mine be trans-alana so i did. eventually i realized the unhyphenated version was available so i changed it to transalana with no hyphen and i have lived here ever since. sometimes i think about changing it but i feel like transalana has become a part of My Brand and i am not so great with coming up with cool names for things.

any side blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them

in theory, i have sideblogs... i don’t really use them, but of the ones i do have, there is:

emsbookblog - this was supposed to be where i would post excerpts of the book that i’m working on, but i think i did that maybe one time roughly 2 years ago and then promptly forgot about it/got nervous about my writing and was scared to share anything else. the rest of the stuff that is there is assorted writing tips. i don’t really know what to do with it now. i probably should post all my little thoughts about em and anita and caleb there instead of infodumping on my main from time to time, but if i do that then i have to promo a sideblog and direct people over to it which is always annoying to me when i could just do it on this blog which is much easier

dearnovelhansen - this is basically no longer used, but was a sideblog i made specifically to talk/complain about the novel adaptation of Dear Evan Hansen which was about 3 years ago?? maybe? i can’t be trusted to understand the passage of time. but to summarize: i thought it was an honor just to have the story be made more accessible since many of us couldn’t see the stage performance, but i hated a lot of the creative liberties that were taken. my main grumbles are that everyone who isn’t evan or connor is done so dirty in the novel. connor’s still kind of done dirty in the book, but not as much as like. heidi, alana, jared, and zoe are.

horseisle3 - this one was meant to be a place where i could just enthusiastically post screenshots from hi3, but instead it turned into a blog where i occasionally reblog other players’ hi3 content and bitch about how bad the game admins are bc hi3 is the tumblr famous (infamous?) homophobic horse game. the game where it was once okay to call your club store the gulag bc according to their head of hr, ‘it’s just a russian word for prison’ but you can’t say ‘im gay’ without somebody accusing you of corrupting young children who play the game. unfortunately there aren’t very many good interactive horse games out there, so this one is still about as good as it gets. it’s either that or star stable and i don’t care about star stable.

mlaenie - i’ve had this url saved for i don’t even know how long. way way way back in the day when i wanted to escape from the clutches of the onceler fandom i abandoned my first blog where i basically had an alter ego i guess?? and i decided to just be myself on the new blog. i don’t fully remember who came up with it, but one of my sister’s mutuals suggested that if you scrambled the letters in your name you could come up with aesthetic-looking urls. so lauren’s url became lrauen, and to match with her mine became mlaenie, which i abandoned on tumblr after about a year or so? but have continued to use as my main username on twitter, reddit, youtube, xbox, steam, and discord. i barely ever use any of these accounts aside from twitter, steam, and xbox, but yeah. so i’ve decided to try and turn this empty sideblog into a place for video game thoughts maybe. we’ll see how long it lasts this time around.

how long have you been on tumblr?

i made my first tumblr account in december of 2010, but i didn’t understand how to use it at all or how to customize my theme to look cool and unique so i quickly abandoned it. i made a new account in september of 2011 after some kids at school and my sister told me i should and i have been trapped here with varying degrees of activity/inactivity ever since. i have witnessed the rise and fall of the lorax/onceler fandom, hyperfocused on lord of the rings, star wars and back to the future all at the same time, and for the past 4 years i’ve mostly been a musical theatre blog with assorted other fandom stuff mixed in. i feel i have seen everything and nothing, but mostly i’m just tired and bored.

do you have a queue tag?

no bc i don’t use a queue. i’ve tried using it in the past but i irrationally feel pressured to sustain a coherent theme to queued posts and my brain simply does not vibe with that so i just don’t use it at all anymore. Instead i instantly reblog or post several unrelated thoughts in succession and then don’t post again at all for 3 days. the way god intended

why did you start your blog in the first place?

my very first blog was intended to be a place for me to post all of my petz 5 animals’ profile info, but i didn’t have any understanding of how coding worked at all and i don’t think i really wanted to learn, either. so it just sat there, unused. my second attempt at blogging was as a classic rock fandom person, so as you can probably imagine i was pretty pretentious about ‘modern pop’ vs the beatles, the rolling stones, the who, the monkees, and so on. and then i slowly devolved into a lorax fandom blog and everything went to shit so i made a new blog for lord of the rings/the hobbit which later evolved to include star wars and back to the future blogging. and then for the past 4 years i’ve been mainly a musical theatre blog with other random stuff i like thrown haphazardly into the pot. wonderful.

why did you choose your icon/pfp?

because my url is transalana and two of my most prominent lgbt headcanons are that alana beck is trans and a lesbian. i gotta be shouting out @kinqmike though bc she’s the one i adopted the trans alana beck headcanon from in the first place!

why did you choose your header?

in 2017 i was hyperfixating on Dear Evan Hansen (and Be More Chill, but there weren’t many gif-able videos then considering it ran for a month in New Jersey in 2015 and there was only one yet-to-resurface 35 minute bootleg) so i just grabbed a random gif off of google. i really should get to replacing it with a new header of my own though. i just don’t know what i should do for it.

what’s your post with the most notes?

i have lost track of how many notes it has (i think it’s somewhere around 200 now?) but when Will Roland and George Salazar performed Two Player Game on Good Morning America, i posted a screencap of their Jeremy and Michael along with that one quiz answer meme that says stuff like ‘i want to see it grow up healthy’. i didn’t tag it with any ship names or anything because i was anxious about having it show up in the tags, but somebody who reblogged it from me did tag it as boyf riends and i firmly believe it took off because of that. i don’t think i make posts that are relevant enough to amass thousands of notes, even by accident. which is probably a good thing bc if i did i would have to block so many of them.

how many followers do you have?

on this blog? 175 according to the counter. how many of those are still real people and how many are bots and abandoned accounts? i have no idea.

how many people do you follow?

i try to keep it somewhere around 200. i think i’m sitting at 180 right now but i kind of need to go through and clear out the really inactive blogs.

have you made a shitpost?

let’s think about this for a second. i’ve been on tumblr for nearly 10 years. you might even be able to say i’ve made more than one. they’re just not what you would call...popular shitposts.

how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ post?

that stuff makes me so incredibly anxious that i have to fight the urge to want to yeet my laptop or mobile device through the closest window whenever i read it, so i try very hard to avoid any sort of ‘if you don’t reblog this, i’m judging you’ posts. i find them very manipulative and not particularly helpful

do you like tag games?

yeah babey!! i just frequently forget to do them, but please know that if you have ever tagged me in a tag game i felt incredibly touched by the gesture and the @mention even if i completely forgot to do the thing afterward

do you like ask games?

i do! but also rip to literally anyone who has ever sent me an ask meme bc it takes me so long to answer them. i’m still working on a micro fic prompt from a few weeks ago. also, horrified to realized that it has in fact been a few weeks and not 3 days anymore.

which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

i don’t know that any are tumblr famous as a whole. but probably @neverheardnothing

do you have a crush on a mutual?

in any sort of romantic connotation? no. not that i’m aware of. there are mutuals that i have friend crushes on where i want to be friends with them but i get so anxious when it comes to meeting new people that usually nothing ever comes of it. i’m really not good at small talk or other casual conversation either which, as you may or may not be able to imagine, sucks. i just wanna skip over all of the awkward introductions and ‘hey how are you, how is life, what are you doing with yourself?’ stuff. not because i don’t care about it. i do, but i think most of my friends/the people i want to be my friends are also depressed and anxious so asking these basic questions about life tends to uh. make us all nervous. and i don’t do much with my life so i always have the most boring answers anyways.

i’m not tagging anyone officially bc the @ thing has just completely given up on me at this point, but if you want to do it, go for it. and then say i tagged you so i can read it c:

[queensdivas]

Hidden Blade Chap 4

(I know it’s not good. Like I wanted to do a few things but I’m working on group projects, papers, a temino, For God's Sake, trying to bring a certain Fic back to life. As you can tell I’m on the struggle bus at the moment. I promise the next chapter will be better because it’s the big heist! JUST KEEP THE FAITH MY FRIENDS KEEP THE FAITH!!!)

Next chapter

Previous Chapter 

For starters I did take Anya to a big cat sanctuary which since I brought her back, I might have persuaded them to let me come visit her every once in a while for some play time. They’re keeping her name which makes me even more happy and hopefully she’ll be absolutely okay there. 

But today we’re heading for Hong Kong! I’ve yet to make it over to China or that far east so I’m a little excited. Plus I’ve been working on a little something that should help four and I when we’re being monkeys across the tower. If I can get it done about the time we make it to Hong Kong. If not I get to be my own guinea pig for the experiment. 

I swung my bag over my shoulder along with my small duffle bag that had all my equipment for this long flight. The other bag is clothing, personal weapons, and some snacks for the flight. Four and I stocked up on some snacks from seven eleven when we left the hotel so we’re set on chips, a bag of sunflower seeds, and a bunch of Palmer Iced Tea and Lemonade cans. 

“Aye. You got my cheez-its?” Four asked as I stepped out of the trailer then reaching over on the desk to grab the box. 

“Yes! It’s about a 13 hour flight and I know they don’t have anything like this.” He told me as I scratched the top of Wallys head for a few seconds till he laid down in the doorway. 

“You’ve been to Hong Kong?” I asked him as we began walking towards the parked jet. 

“Oh yeah. You know their food is already good. Except the cat, I find it way too thin.” I nodded as we joined the rest of the group. One was ahead of everyone as seven was yelling out to him or something. 

“Hey one! You ever plan on calling me six?” Seven yelled as everyone just kind of chuckled. 

“No!” He yelled back as seven shrugged. 

“Okay.” We continued to walk as Seven kept looking around at us expecting like us to do something. Like I know I’m new to the fucked up A-Team, but I get the feeling that we just don’t speak about identities or anything dealing with One's depressing boo hoo past. 

“Hey look I know we don’t get to ask..?” Why the hell is he so damn nosy? 

“Then don’t.” Three told him but I could tell he still wanted to pester about one. 

“But uh...who is one?” He’s so damn nosy! Like oh my god he just won’t stop pushing buttons for answers. 

“A rich guy who snapped. That’s all I got.” Five told him as I slightly nodded. The man has a fucking Chopard. Y’all have any idea how expensive their stuff is cause I sure don’t! Just imagine having that option to buy whatever the hell you want because you did something with magnets or something sciency. 

“Yeah but how did you meet him?” Seven knows how I met him so I’m assuming he’s waiting for the rest of them. 

“We didn’t. He met us. In really weird ways.” After hearing Fours story of how they met. I will say I am kind of curious on how everyone else met him. Sounds like mine and sevens we’re the only normal interactions. 

“Oh yeah. Very very weird. Like basically perfect timing kind of weird.” When you kind of look at it, yes in very weird ways. Not as weird as what Four told me on how they met. Four began telling his story again as three began walking along side me.

“So being an assassin. Do you have any cool gadgets you keep on you? Like a pen that turns into some type of dart?” He asked as I raised my eyebrow at him. 

“Do I look like James Bond or some sort of cheap spy?” We continued to walk as I showed him a piece of paper that had my project. 

“Working on a mini zipline for short distance kind sort of thing. It would be wrapped around my right arm. Just something experimental.” He was ecstatic as he kept looking at it. 

“So you’d turn into like batman.” Batman has money and Fox to build his things. I have online links and How to Do anything for dummies.

“If that makes sense to you then yes.” Four finished his story as Seven was chuckling. 

“Ooh. I never thought I’d meet a family more screwed up than mine.” Seven shook his head along with three. 

“Hey, no. Don’t say that. He hates the word “family”. I don’t know.” I’m really hoping that I win my money and some back on this bet. 

“And if you’re ever left behind in a mission, he’s not coming back for you.” Hold the fuck up what? Wait what? I’m technically dead to the internet? What am I supposed to do if for some reason I get left behind? Eh. Do what I did before but not care as much if anything. 

“What?” Seven was just having a field day with all this new information oh my god. Just gonna let this roll. 

“We Deltas don’t operate like that. Things are gonna have to change I promise you that.” Okay. That’s what happens when you bring a military man into any form of combat I guess. Let’s all gather around the campfire and sing our Girl Scout songs while talking about our feelings. Genius seven! 

One opened the plane door as seven caught up with them since apparently they’re flying the plane. Definitely going to say a quick prayer so that we don’t die! I climbed in after three to see there was a table for my work. I tossed my bags into the empty set next to me as I climbed over to the window seat. Four sat directly across from me as I put on my seatbelt.  

“Can you pass me a Palmer?” I pulled it out of the bag then slid it across the table. 

“Thank you.” He opened it as the plane engine turned on. I think a few hours of crossword puzzle should hopefully kill sometime. I don’t feel like working on my project and watching some sort of movie would just make the ride longer. I reached into my bag for one of my books and pen to get started. Four raised his eyebrow as I looked up from my book. 

“What?” I asked as he took a drink of his palmer. 

“You have any extra ones by chance?” Is that even a question! Of course I have extra ones! I reached into my bag to slide one of my books across the table along with an extra pen. 

Alright alright! I began skimming through then finding the one I was working on before. A four letter word for short smokes? Hmmmm. Cigs! C-I-G-S AHA! Alright so that covers the first letters for 54, 55, 56! 

“Is that a crossword puzzle?” Two looked over me as I looked straight up to her. 

“Would you like one?” I asked as she looked over to my bag as I reached for a spare pen and book. Then I grabbed one for three and five. Guess we’re all doing crossword puzzles for thirteen hours. I’m down. 

About three hours into the flight and we’ve all been asking each other for help on our own puzzles. Four and I were sitting next to each other because he is stuck on a three letter work for Peace, to Putin. I’m still trying to figure out what on earth it even means. I wasn’t alive during Putin so I have absolutely no idea. 

“What does that mean?” We had our online dictionaries out trying to skim through three letter words that started with the letter M. 

“What’s the phrase?” Two’s head popped up again from behind the seat. 

“Peace, to Putin.” Four told her as she thought for a moment. 

“Mir.” She sat back down in her seat as it fit perfectly. 

“Thanks Two!” We said at the same time as I went back to my puzzle. 

“What the hell are you guys doing?” One’s head popped out of the cockpit as all five of us stared him down.

“Crossword puzzle. Want one?” I held up a puzzle and a pen up to him. He grabbed two books and two pens then back into the cockpit. Knew he couldn’t resist a great time of crossword puzzles. 

I finished one and I’m about halfway done with this one. Next one. Blood letters? What’s a three letter word for Blood letters? I began tapping my pen on my forehead trying to figure out what on earth that means. Blood Letters? 

“Blood letters.” I said it out loud as he looked over to see that it was only three letters. 

“ABO.” ABO? OOOHHH! BLOOD TYPES! A! B! O! Oh my gosh I’m an idiot! 

“Who knows geography well?” Three asked as we all turned our heads towards his seat. 

“What is it?” Five asked as he read the question. 

“Loch on the border of the Highlands?” I’ve only been to the UK once and I partied very hard in Southampton in all honesty. 

“Four. You’re from England right?” Three asked as Four was trying to remember his geography. 

“Is it Guillemot?” He asked as I shrugged my shoulders. 

“LOMOND!” Four yelled as three wrote it down. We high fived each other 

“Thanks Four.” Three thanked as I took a sip of my palmer. A very big yawn came out of me as I put my book down. Maybe a quick nap should hopefully make my brain starts working again. I tucked my head into the corner of the seat as I began to fall asleep. 

“OW!” I snapped awake as Three was yelling from his seat. That was two minutes of a nap that I thought would last till we landed. I looked over my seat to see him patching up his finger. I slid back down into my seat trying to get comfy again with my head resting against the left of the head rest.  

JUST LET ME SLEEP!

“Hey guys.” Seven’s voice appeared on the com. 

“What’s an eight letter word for unlaces?” Seven asked as everyone stopped working on their puzzles. 

“Unbuckle?” Five told him as he was silent for a minute. 

“Thank you.” The com turned off as I shut the blind for the window then tried to fall asleep again. 

*Fours P.O.V.* 

Her head slid down and onto the edge of my shoulder as I finished one of the words. Her mouth was slightly opened as she was adjusting herself on my shoulder. A nap does sound nice I’ll admit. Not sure on what the rules are for napping with a teammate but I’m just gonna take the heat from it. 

I rested my head on top of hers as the plane went silent because I’m assuming everyone else was beginning to take their naps. She wrapped her thin jacket around her a little tighter trying to get a little warmer. Guess it is a little chilly in here for us in here. I’d give her my coat but I don’t wanna wake her up. Body heat is a thing right?

The only sound being heard on the entire plane was the sound of the engine since everyone was dead asleep. Her hair smelled like fresh mint which was a little different then what I expected her hair to smell like. Not to mention her hair was actually really pretty, it’s like a red chestnut color and definitely smells nice like I said before. 

“PST Four!” Five asked across the seat as I looked over. 

“Yes?” She leaned over to point at her puzzle.

“Dr. Seuss’ yertle, for one.” She told me as I counted the six letter word. Never had Dr. Seuss growing up so I’ve got no idea. Two has basically been our dictionary throughout this entire thing. 

“Ask Two. I’ve got no idea.” She nodded as she got up from her seat as I noticed Eight was leaning on the other side, with her head resting on the window. Oh well. Probably for the best anyhow. 

I got up from her side of the table to slide back into mine as I took another sip of my palmer then made my jacket into a pillow. We’ve got about ten more hours to hopefully I can just sleep right through this. 

~~

“Hey team were below the radar. So buckle up cause it’s about to get bumpy.” Seven announced as I began waking up a little bit. Five more minutes please! 

“You know, I usually look at the stewardess to see if I should be scared.” Does he realize that a plane being brought down by turbulence is super rare? 

“Flight attendant. You can look at me.” Two told him as I tried to get myself to fall back asleep. Did they hook up in Vegas? 

“Oh darling, you could be on fire, and you would still have that same creepy, blank expression on your face. No offense.” Oh they so hooked up in Vegas, the sexual tension between them is so thick that a warm butter knife could cut it. Wait I’m trying to sleep! Ah screw it three’s gonna run his mouth till we land so what’s the point of trying to sleep. 

My left eye opened just a tiny bit to see her still working on her zipline thingy and looked really cute. Like I mean really cute. She looked up for a second then her cheeks began blushing a little bit for her to start trying to get back to her work.

“Morning sleeping beauty.” She smiled as she looked up at me again. I noticed she had a box of cheez-its out and on her second can of Palmer. Didn’t realize I slept that long holy shit. 

“Where are we?” I rubbed my eyes as I looked out the window. 

“We’re about to land.” She told me as I the bumpy ride began happening. I was now fully awake as I put my jacket back into my bag as she began shoving everything back into one of hers. 

“Did you finish it?” I asked her as she nodded with a mouthful of cheez-its. 

“Should be ready for tonight hopefully. Or I fall to my death.” She swallowed as I grabbed the box for a couple of cheez-its.

We landed at the private airfield as we began getting off the plane. I was the last off the plane as everyone else was making sure they had all their things for tonight, since it’s technically 8 am here if I did the math right. 

“Anyone else like super hungry?” Three asked as we finished double checking our bags. 

“I heard there’s a really good noodle shop that’s a few blocks away.” Five told us as we loaded ourselves up with everything. 

“Some noodles sound absolutely delicious.” Eight commented as we started walking towards the big moving truck that One had bought for us that would let us sneak in and out of Hong Kong. 

Please don’t let tonight be an absolute shit show! I enjoy working with Eight because I get the feeling she won’t leave me behind. Just loves pushing me into situations, yet stay’s with me. It’s better than my old group of thieves were in Kiev. 

Just let tonight go somewhat smoothly! 

Taglist: @filmslutt​ @bonafiderocketqueen​ @leah-halliwell92​ @soy-guey​ @lazykittenstudent​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @itsmeaudrieee​ @intoanothermind​ @imjustboredso​ @4lendow-norris​ @wickedholland​ @takemetoneverlandbabe​ @raylan-c​ @johndeaconshands​ 

[raisedbyfandomwolves]

Prompt: Kara takes Mon-El to a museum for the first time :)

This one got REALLY long but that’s just what your prompt did to my brain and if I get into any kind of trouble for this I’m blaming you. Also this was supposed to be set in show canon but some of my own writing slipped in so... yeah.

---------

The idea comes to her out of the blue, and the longer Kara considers it the more sense it makes.

She hasn't been a great mentor to Mon-El, she's willing to admit as much, but now that she's aware of it she's trying to make up for her past mistakes and do it right from now on. Of course, sheer determination only gets her so far and she ends up getting kind of stuck pretty quickly... that is, until an innocent little pamphlet in her mailbox gives her some unexpected but brilliant guidance.

“We're going to the museum,” she announces with a bright smile and more than a fair amount of enthusiasm the next morning when she visits him in his quarters at the DEO.

Predictably, he does not share her excitement and simply stares at her with a perplexed look on his face. “We are? Why?”

Uncharitable thoughts about Daxamites and their blatant disregard for higher learning fill her mind and all but erase her jubilant mood but she fights to keep her irritation from showing. Deep breaths, Kara. You promised yourself you'd be patient with him. It's too soon to give up just yet. “Because if you're going to fit in on Earth, you need to know more about it and unless you want to attend school for the next twelve years instead, this is a pretty good alternative.”

Maybe it's her prejudice speaking but she expects him to refuse because it doesn't sound fun. To her pleasant surprise, however, he barely waits a second before he shrugs casually. “Okay. When are we going?”

“Oh. Um.” Caught somewhat off guard by his almost immediate agreement and maybe feeling a little guilty at having prejudged him – again – without real cause, she flounders momentarily. “We could... go now? If you're free?”

Once again, he just shrugs and puts away his phone – a loaner from the DEO, like pretty much everything else he has – before getting up from his bed where he had been sitting. “Sure. Lead the way.”

He's similarly compliant throughout the journey to their destination, never once giving the impression he doesn't actually want to do as she suggested, and because of that she lets herself slowly believe the trip is going to be a resounding success.

Of course, he proves her wrong pretty much the second they set foot inside the first gallery which happens to be focused on human evolution.

“This is what the first humans looked like?” he asks a little too loudly for her liking as he scrutinises the Neanderthal models in the exhibit with a raised eyebrow. “How long did they take before they started resembling us?”

“Shh!” she hisses at him with a mix of panic and anger as she throws furtive glances around them to check if anyone has overheard his incredibly suspicious questions. “Not so loud! And you talk as if there's no chance your distant ancestors didn't look anything like this!”

Her counterargument naturally fails to have its intended effect because he just turns to face her with that infuriating grin of his. “Nope. Not a chance. I mean, look.” He angles his head so that it's somewhat aligned with that of the Neanderthal model and gestures between them. “There's no way this-” he points at his face, “-could have come from this,” he finishes as he points at the face of the model.

She doesn't really know why she's letting it get to her so much when it's clear he's just fooling around – how she's so certain about that is something she doesn't want to think too much about – but instead of just dropping the matter, she feels compelled to keep the argument going. “So you're saying Daxamites were perfect or something from day one?”

His grin widens as he steps closer, and she gets the distinct feeling she's walked into a trap without realising it. “Why, do you think your ancestors looked like that once upon a time?”

There's no two ways about it; he's got her cornered there, and the realisation makes her grind her teeth with so much force she's almost sure the sound is echoing inside the mostly empty gallery. “Just keep moving,” she finally growls when she decides that responding to his question won't work in her favour and all but bodily drags him towards the next gallery.

True to form, Mon-El is just as insufferable at the next exhibit and every single one after that, making dumb comments and even dumber jokes that she absolutely was not going to laugh at no matter how much he insists otherwise. By the time they're approaching the last gallery, she's one stupid wisecrack away from tossing him into the river and calling this plan an utter failure.

As they come to a stop in front of the dinosaur fossils on display, Kara mentally braces herself for yet another barrage of questions and statements designed to piss her off. Jokes about the T-Rex's tiny forearms most likely, for starters, and maybe some ridiculous comparisons between the triceratops and whatever creature he's seen on another planet.

Instead, he stands statue-like as he stares up at the ancient bones that make up the exhibit in complete silence with an expression she's hesitant to name.

All the irritation she felt before vanishes and she suddenly feels like she's intruding on an extremely private moment even though she can't quite understand why.

“Do you miss them?” he asks apropos of nothing, unreadable gaze still fixed firmly on the fossils.

Restlessness turns into confusion in a heartbeat as she frowns at him. “Dinosaurs?”

He still doesn't look at her. “The dragons.”

Oh.

It clicks then – that almost lost expression, that look in his eyes that suggests he's not really seeing what's in front of him but rather something far in the past, that uncharacteristic quietness... She knows them all too well because she still catches herself doing all those things even now.

He's thinking about home.

“The prince had a dragon, you know,” he says softly before she can figure out how to break the silence although she wonders if he's talking to her or no one in particular. “She was called Nes'th; it means 'swift' in old Daxamite.”

They're the only ones here and he's not being too loud which means there's no need to worry about being overheard. Besides, it doesn't feel right to tell him to stop so Kara steps closer and keeps her tone respectful and gentle. “What was she like?”

A ghost of a smile curves his lips, whispering of fond memories and heartbreaking sorrow, and it's so unlike the Mon-El she knows that she finds herself irrationally and inexplicably hating it. “She was beautiful – the most beautiful dragon to ever grace Daxam's skies. The way her black and blue scales glinted under Rao's light... It was like she was the night sky in physical form.”

“You sound like you really cared about her,” she comments carefully. It strikes her as a little strange why a simple guard would be so attached to a dragon belonging to the prince but this seems like a terrible time to ask about it.

“I helped look after her,” he answers her unvoiced question before he finally meets her gaze with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes – eyes which she notices with some disquiet are presently a dull grey instead of their usual colour. “Sorry, could I just... have a moment?”

For a moment, she wants to insist on staying – to tell him that she's here for him and he can talk to her or something along those lines – but stops herself before she actually does it. This is about him, not her; he needs space right now – has openly asked for it, even – and the best thing she can do for him not just as his mentor but also as... a friend, if she dares to use that term... is to give him that. “Sure.”

Kara stays long enough to mumble a soft 'you're welcome' when he thanks her before she does as she'd promised, wandering off until she finds herself in the gift shop of all places. Unsure how much time she should wait before she goes back for him, she browses the souvenirs on sale with no real intention of buying anything until she spots it: a small pterodactyl figurine. It's obviously a toy meant for kids but something compels her to pick it up and take note of the price.

Mon-El's uncharacteristically sombre expression surfaces in her mind and she makes the purchase before she can think twice about it.

Even so, her stomach is in knots for reasons she can't figure out as she goes back to find him and all but thrusts the little gift bag out for him to take. “Here.”

That melancholic expression of his is gone – whether it's because he's gotten over it or buried it under that happy-go-lucky facade of his is unclear – and he looks confused even as he accepts the bag from her. “What's this?”

Her stomach churns as she watches him pull out the toy in slow motion. “It's not a dragon, I know, but it's all they had.”

He stares at the little figurine in his hand like it's the most precious thing in the universe for Rao knows how long and her anxiety just keeps growing until he finally lifts his head and gives her a smile that lights up his entire face. His eyes, she notes somewhat idly, are more blue than grey now too, and it's strangely a relief to see them that way. “Thank you. I really appreciate this.”

Like magic, the knot in her stomach disappears and her heart does a weird flip-floppy thing. “I'm not going to buy you another one if you break it,” she says just to stop herself from saying... what exactly escapes her.

Instead of being offended, he just smiles that little bit brighter and her heart does that weird flip-floppy thing again. “I'll take really good care of it, I promise.”

(When he moves in, the pterodactyl figurine – still in perfect condition – occupies a special spot on one of her cupboards.)

[queenscoolcat]

Run Away - Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: Reader finds that Roger is cheating and decides to run away to break his heart too.

Request: @superchaostree : Heyy! I have a request for a super angsty and kinda unrealistic roger x reader thing. Basically my brain farted and this is what it came up with: the reader finds out Roger had an affair and decides to disappear and create a new life for herself. No one knows where she's gone or why. Years later, Roger and the reader bump into each other and she looks different but he'd recognise her any where. This is really long I'm sorry, but if you could do it that would be great! Thankssss!

Pairing: Roger Taylor x Reader, Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor.

Word count: 3592 (wtf?! I didn't realize it was that long)

Warning: lots of angst but with a happy ending.

A/N: You will probably find a couple (or a lot) of errors, I apologize in advance.

tags @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen

You never thought you would found out this way cause, in all honesty, you would never imagine Roger was cheating on you, and being more honest, you thought he changed for you, but now you felt foolish thinking that.

The moment you picked up the phone you intended to call Jim Beach for the last arrangement of tour since you were going with them for a few months so you could cheer on your boyfriend and his bandmates, but your thoughts were completely crowded the moment you hear the conversation Roger was having with another woman on the other line.

“Yes, meet me at the same hotel tonight, ” Roger mutter with a seemed like a nervous tone.

“But Roger I want somewhere fancier, not that crappy hotel, ” the girl whines as you feel your heart stopping when the realization hit you.

All you wanted was to hang up and go to the other room where Roger was, you bit your lip furiously knowing he thought he was being sneaky.

“You know the drill, we fuck at that hotel cause nobody can know we are doing it,” Roger tried to explain just as you covered your mouth when he said those words, you wanted to cry when the confirmation slap you on the face, but for some reason, you didn’t.

“When will you leave that girlfriend of yours so we can go official, ” you closed your eyes dreading what Roger might answer to than.

“You know the answer to that, ” Roger said clearly exasperated by her attitude “I love her, I will never leave her.”

You felt a sense of pride in those words, but you knew it meant nothing since he was cheating on you.

“You don’t love her that much if you are cheating on her, ” the girl said almost as if she was reading your mind.

“I do love her, ” Roger declare as you sense a hint of remorse “ I am not having this conversation with you, are you going to be at the hotel or not?”

“Of course I will, ” she respond with what sounded like a grin on her face “I always will.”

You couldn’t hear anymore, finally you hang up the phone being careful that no one would notice you were eavesdropping.

A sigh escaped your mouth not being sure what to do, loads of thoughts were racing in your mind, and you weren’t sure which to listen, just as you stand up ready to splash some water in your face, Roger entered your shared room.

“Hey, love, Bri just called me, he says we need to go to the studio, it seems he has a big idea for tour, you know how he is,” Roger explain to you, not realizing the look on your face as he was straight up lying to you, but the moment you didn’t answer him, he finally looked at you “is everything okay, love?”

You fake a smile at his words, realizing two could play the game of breaking the other’s heart.

“Yes sure, tell Bri I can’t wait for our rematch in Scrabble.”

“Oh yes! I almost forgot you are coming with us on Tour,” Roger almost yelled in excitement as he kissed your temple “It is going to be the best tour.”

You simply smiled and nodded at his comments, not being sure if he was lying to you or if he meant any of it, you felt so heartbroken and lonely even though Roger was a few steps away from you.

All night you couldn't sleep overthinking everything, you stay in bed rolling around not sure if you could complete the plan you had in mind, but the moment Roger came back and cuddle next to you smelling like alcohol, sex and the perfume of another woman you felt more determined than ever.

The next morning you wait for him to leave early for work, a part of you still miss his touch when he got out of bed, but after be entered the bathroom you rubbed your eyes like you wanted to erase every memory with him.

You felt a kiss in your forehead and as you open your eyes you saw him, with such a tendered smile it made it even more difficult for you to hate him.

"Did I wake you up?" Roger inquired as he strokes your hair.

You muttered a quiet "no", and for a quick moment you saw regret in his eyes, you opened your mouth to say something but nothing came out, Roger chuckles a little as the ghost of regret was long gone, just as your need to say something.

"I'll see you for lunch?" Rog asked as you nod at him, he started walking out of your house like he had nothing to worry about.

When you heard the front door closed, for the first time since you knew the horrible truth you let a sob out of you, you cried and cried until you felt there were no more tears in you.

The moment you saw the clock, you knew it was time to go, you grabbed a suitcase and starter putting all your clothes in there, when you made sure everything you wanted was in there, you started walking all over the house trying to find things you might want or need, just your thing, you didn't want to move on with Rogers things still in your possessions.

When you walked out the door you made sure not to turn around, cause if you did you weren't sure if you could continue your plan.

You started the car that Roger gave you and drive to the airport ready to continue your plan, for the first time you notice you were shaking, but the truth was you weren't sure why, it may have been from how awful you felt that the love of your life cheated on you, or it might also be how nervous you felt for leaving everything you had behind into a puzzle so no one could find you.

When you arrived you started searching for a destination, Not knowing where you would ”want” to go, it wasn't until your eyes read the next flight available "New York" you mutter to yourself already walking to buy your ticket.

The moment you realized the paparazzi found you, you tried your best to contain your smile, clearly, you would be in the front page of the papers as people question were Roger Taylor's girlfriend was going without him just days before the tour began. Now you only pray that they would pay someone to know where you were going.

Roger knew how much you loved New York, there was no better way for him to believe you were heading there, you truly didn't plant any clue that you were even travelling to another country, but you believe he would find out one way or another.

You thanked the front desk lady and turned around to go to the bathroom so you could change into the other clothes you prepare, you applied a red lipstick shade and put the bigger sunglasses you could find, also you arrange the wig you just put on as you saw your reflection in the mirror, you truly didn't look anything like you, a sigh escaped your lips realizing that not only your appearance look different, you felt different as well.

Before you left the bathroom, you ripped your ticket and threw it into a trash can, and with a last look in the mirror, you made your way to the entrance as you tried to find another available cab to take you elsewhere.

A devilish smirk appeared in hour face when you passed the paparazzi, and they didn't recognize you, but it was only there to cover your true emotions, cause being honest you felt more lost than ever.

Roger knew something was up when you were late for lunch, normally you would always be in time knowing he needed to be back for rehearsals as soon as possible, but when he realized you were almost 30 minutes late, he started to panic.

He didn't ask for the bill, Roger just placed way more money than he spent and ran to his car hoping you were okay and that you just forgot about lunch, but he knew you better than that, and the feeling in his stomach didn't leave him not even when he was home.

Roger felt his heart stop when he realized your car wasn't there, and even he already knew you weren't home he made his way in as he searched for you all over the house, he tried to convince himself that nothing was left, that there were still things from you in there, but the moment he entered the closet and saw the emptiness that you left he knew you were long gone.

There was nothing yours to be seen and it drove Roger mad, he sat on the bed feeling like he lost everything cause he couldn't keep the promise of being faithful.

Roger knew he loves you, way before you even realized it, but the word commitment really scared him, not realizing there were things worse than that, but now he knew when he felt the pain of your absence that losing you was way more hurtful than everything he could imagine.

Roger turned around to see your spot in bed, he was surprised he didn't notice a letter addressed to him, he recognized your handwriting and almost jumped to grab it like if he touched the only thing you left you would appear next to him.

He was so afraid to open it cause he knew full well what it said, his heart was pumping faster than he could ever imagine just as he traced his name on the top of the letter.

Roger,

Don't know how to start this letter, but I guess we both know what it will be about.

Let's start from the beginning, you were the first person I had ever fallen in love with and yet, you are the first person to broke me as no one has ever done before.

When I met you I kept reading and hearing people telling me it would be a mistake, that you were just a playboy who didn't know how to love anyone else but you, I fought all of them cause I believed in you, because I loved you, but now I realized they were right, I thought they were idiots for not believing in us, for not believing in you, but now I realized that I was the idiot who thought you would change for me.

Don't try to look for me cause I don't have it in me to see you again without thinking of you and her, I am hurt that you lied to me and the worst part is that I believed you.

Roger couldn't stop reading and rereading your letter all over again, he felt so guilty cause you were right, but he never wanted to lose you the way he did, he really planned to leave that woman and asked you to marry him, and now he felt foolish thinking he could make it happen without hurting you.

You sat on one of the beaches of Brighton, it has been over a week since you move here, and being quite honest it was really hard, there was always a magazine or a newspaper showing Roger, you never read any of them not being sure you could handle it

It was a nice day today, which helped you improve your mood a little after barely leaving your apartment just to get food and then go back in there to prepare something that you ended up not eating.

You always felt a constant fear of people recognizing you, but being honest there were days when you had to look at yourself in the mirror not recognizing you anymore, your featured were the same, but your hair was different which changed things a great deal, you decided to dye it to the colour you always wanted and cutter way more than you would normally do, you knew that if someone saw you on the streets they wouldn't know who you are.

There sound of the seagulls brought you a wired sense of comfort as you watch the waves of the sea go back and forward.

You weren't sure what was your next step, you planned to stay here at least a couple of month, then you would go back to London and continue living your life as you, not the girlfriend of the famous drummer, just you.

Today was one of those nights you wanted to celebrate, you bought yourself one bottle of tequila and some snack, you prepared everything making sure you would get drunk as fuck, wanting to forget about every shitty decision you made and celebrate how you live here for over four months without anyone realizing it.

Unfortunately, you were interrupted when someone knocked on your door, you rolled your eyes hoping it wouldn't be your flirty neighbour who wanted to get in your pants.

But you were more than surprised when you opened the door and saw no other than Roger Taylor, the chips that you were holding fell to the floor as you check the bottle of tequila afraid that you drink already way more and you were seeing Roger instead of your crazy neighbour.

"Hey, love, " Roger mumble quite unsure of what your reaction would be.

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing came out of it, you weren't sure what to do now that he was here, and being drunk didn't help the case.

"How are you?" Roger asked wanting to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, but he knew he lost that privilege a long time ago.

"How did you found me?" you asked feeling nauseous just thinking about everything.

In all honesty, you weren't mad at him anymore, the stage of screaming and throwing things at him was long gone, but that didn't mean you already forgave him, you felt as hurt as you were the day you found out, but a part of you really missed him, and even though you wanted to fight it so bad, that was the truth.

"A friend invited me to get my mind off thing... Off you, " you sighed at his comments not understanding if he genuinely was hurt "I saw you at the beach the other day, I wasn't sure if it was you cause you know... You look so different."

Without noticing it you touch your hair sometimes forgetting how different it was.

"You look so beautiful, like always, " Roger admitted afraid of what your reaction would be after all he did to you "I just wanted to… I don't even know, I look for you everywhere, I went to New York only to found you were never there, it didn't surprise me though, I already knew how intelligent you were."

You look at him as his name rolled out of your lips, you felt tears starting to form in your eyes afraid that the feelings you made sure to bury where resurfacing again.

“I know I screw thing up, and it is fine if you wanted me to go,” Roger said as you realized there were tears in his eyes as well “but I just want to talk, please.”

That plea was the thing that broke you, you fall on the floor sobbing as the memories resurface all over again, not just the bad ones, but the good ones and those were the ones that hurt you the most.

You felt Roger's arms embracing you as you rest your head on his chest, you didn’t know how long both of you stayed there, cause even if it hurt, you always felt like Roger was home to you, and you were sure Roger felt the same.

When both of you got your composure all over again, you moved your conversation to the sofa, you tried to keep a distance but as the time went by you ended up next to each other as the empty bottle of tequila was on the floor.

“I don’t know if I will ever trust you again,” you finally told Roger not being able to look into his eyes as you said those words.

“I understand,” Roger admitted sincerely as he finally tucks that piece of hair behind your ear.

“At least she was better fuck?” You joked trying to lighten the mood.

“No one has ever been better than you,” Roger admitted feeling really proud when he hear your laugh.

“Wanting to know what happened between you is masochism?” You question noticing how Roger moves uncontrollably “you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“You deserve it, love” you jumped a little from the nickname quite surprised by it “we met while I was on tour last year, I was so wasted and she looked so much like you, the first night it was quite an accident cause I really thought it was you, but then she kept coming back, and I am not sure why I never pushed her away?”

You nod at his words not sure why you asked it to hear it other than to stop making stuff up in your mind.

“That is a lie,” you turn to look at him not understanding what he meant “I did it cause I love you so much and I was so afraid of commitment, that might sound so fucking stupid but it is the truth, I never love someone as much as I loved you, as much as I still love you.”

Roger let a sigh out as he looks back at you with such sad eyes, you knew he wants bullshiting you.

“You don’t have to say it back,” Roger mumbled as he cleans his tears with the back of his hand.

Now it was your turn to move a piece of his hair off his face, you started at him as you tried to remember every detail of his face, he stares at you quite surprised by your actions.

“I still love you too,” you mutter as it brings a certain light to Roger’s face, you let a chuckle out of your mouth while you traced his cheek before you removed your hand to place it over your knee “but we will need time Rog.”

Roger had to go back to London while you decided to stay in Brighton a little bit longer, he always called you every day wanting to hear your voice so bad, but sometimes it got really hard being apart, though you knew it was for the best if you wanted to start things all over again.

All that didn’t go as easy for Roger as he would expect, the moment the rest of the band found out what happened they were all over Roger's back making sure he knew how lucky he was you were giving him another chance.

“Oh dear, I miss you so much, I can’t believe our bloody Roger could be such a dickhead,” Freddie said through the phone since it was really common that whenever Roger called you, the boys would always try to talk to you as well “but we will keep our eyes on his sorry ass, my dear.”

“Freddie, as much as I would love you to do that, I would appreciate more if he stayed without getting into anyone’s pants on his own,” you said as you played with the phone cord realizing how much you missed the boys as well.

“Fair enough, dear,” Freddie agree as he giggles at your word choice “Roger is still bugging me to give him the phone so I if he is a dick just hang up.”

You laugh at his comment just as you heard Roger trying to get Freddie to give him the phone and shut up.

“Hello, love,” Roger said when he finally had control over the phone “how are you?”

“Really good, I missed hearing from the guys,” you answered as you sigh in content.

“They really miss you as well, I can’t wait to see Freddie’s reaction when he sees what you have done to your hair,” when Roger said that you heard a surprised gasp from Freddie and a few seconds later you could swear he tried to take the phone away from Roger again “fuck off, Fred.”

You weren’t sure that at that moment there could be something that could erase the smile you had on your face as you felt everything falling into place all over again.

“Y/n…” suddenly Roger said with such a serious tone it made you sit straight again “what about us?”

You frown at him comment not quite sure what he meant since just a few seconds ago he was fighting with Freddie over who could talk on the phone with you.

“What do you mean?” You ask as you started biting your nails.

“How are we? Are you and I…good?” Roger asked clearly nervous to know the answer.

You gave yourself some time to answer, you knew the answer but it was scary finally acknowledging thing was going great between the two of you all over again.

“We are better than good, Rog,” you finally said with the biggest smile knowing Roger had one of those as well.

[justanultrastressedwriter]

Aw Hell No - Ch I

Next          Masterlist

TW: Homophobia (slurs), Violence, Swearing. Let me know if I should tag anything else

“Uh, DJ! Can’t you believe it?” the bouncy redhead squealed to her tall, curly-haired best friend with excitement.

“Can’t believe what? That you could somehow reach super supersonic levels this early in the morning?” the guy standing next to her muttered, frowning down at his best friend.

“Don’t be a dick, Daniel. Can’t you at least pretend to be excited? It’s the first day of our senior year! This is the home stretch, baby!” the short imp said, with an excited grin on her face.

“Charlotte Elizabeth Thomas. It's barely even 8 am, I’ve only had one cup coffee because you, for some ungodly reason, wanted to get to school ridiculously early, you have been shrieking in my ear for the last half hour, and I have the first period with the teacher who hates me the most because he’s the most bigoted person on the face of the Earth. What the hell do I have to be excited about?” Daniel James frowned at her, glaring. He was nowhere near being a morning person like his best friend was. Daniel could barely function before 9 am without numerous cups of coffee.

“Well, Mr. Grumpy Gills, for starters you have little old me. I’m taking the time out of my busy life to grace you with my perfect existence. My mere presence should make you ecstatic, you utter peasant.” she said cheekily, tilting her head to the side and raising her chin arrogantly. Daniel couldn’t help but crack a smile at her.

“Charlie, I have no fucking idea how I have managed to be your best friend. Your massive ego should be your best friend instead of me, you annoying little twerp.” Daniel teased.

“But, I’m your annoying little twerp and you can’t help but love me,” Charlie said with a reckless grin and a quirked eyebrow.

Daniel was about to respond with one of his famous witty one-liners when his thoughts were interrupted by a strong force against his back, shoving his face into the cool metal of the lockers he had been leaning on. He knew that at least one bruise would appear there the next day.

“Happy first day of school, faggot.” a voice hissed from behind him. He could hear the sneer and disdain in the person’s voice, which helped him recognize the voice. It made his muscles tense as he turned to face the biggest prick in the entire school.

Connor Smith; the popular jock that had been tormenting Daniel since they were in preschool. It had started back then with small childish antics: the breaking of crayons and toys, blaming Daniel for everything - which made all of their teachers peg him as a troublemaker and hate him, despite being one of the quietest and most polite kids in school - and a long list of other things that didn’t really matter in the long run.

Ever since Daniel had been forced out of the closet in their freshman year, though, Connor Smith and the entire school had gotten worse. Connor had inspired the football team on numerous occasions to jump Daniel in the school parking lot after school or to tie him to the goalposts naked, they all constantly shoved Daniel in the halls and into lockers, made him spill his lunch all over himself, broke into his locker to ruin his textbooks or his schoolwork and notes, but those were just things the sport teams did. The entire school would simply trip him or call him cute pet names, ‘useless queer’, ‘faggot’, or Daniel’s favorite ‘dirty little cocksucker’.

Of course, no one ever did anything about Daniel’s predicament. The best people would turn the other cheek to everything going on. Daniel’s mom had gone to the school boards countless times, even a few teachers had gone to the administrations on his behalf, but nothing happened. Either it was because “they were just boys being boys”, “that there wasn’t enough evidence”, or that Daniel brought this upon himself either by not sticking up for himself but Daniel knew what they really meant.

“Hey, Meathead! Leave him alone! He’s done nothing to you!” Charlie yelled, getting as fiery as her red hair and glaring up at the jock. Standing at 5’3”, Charlie yelling at Connor, who stood at a whopping 6' 3”, looked like David challenging Goliath. It could have been considered comical by an outside party.

Connor smirked as if he were amused, but then his favorite lackey spoke up, with a lustrous look. “You wanna dance, Red? I can make sure you have a great time. I can think of so many ways to make you scream.”

Charlie’s cheeks turned red at the implications and she began to struggle for words. Daniel felt a fire of anger ignite up within his chest. He knew exactly how uncomfortable his best friend was about anything sexual. She hadn’t even kissed anyone for fucks’ sake. So Daniel came to her rescue, standing up to his full height to look the jerk in the eyes and shield his best friend from the pair of Neanderthals. “Leave her alone, Tyler. She has nothing to do with this, you know that. Your problem is with me.”

Tyler Roberts. Daniel’s second-biggest tormentor and Connor’s best friend/lackey. He was also known for being the biggest man-whore around having slept his way through at least half of the town.

“Or what, fag?” Tyler said, his voice filled with scorn and disgust, making Daniel flinch at the word.

“Or we’ll take our problem to the cops, jackass,” Daniel said, glaring at the other boy. “You are eighteen, right? How does jail sound to you? And if not, oh well. I’ll just settle for getting you kicked off the football team. That will lead you to have a problem with the rest of the football team and Coach Jamison- aren’t y’all expected to go to the playoffs this year? I don’t think the team will make it without their starting lineman, huh? Not to mention all of the colleges that are willing to offer you sports scholarships. The rest of the world is pretty damn liberal these days, I don’t think they’ll take too kindly to you being charged with a hate crime against a poor innocent gay kid, now would they? But by all means, if you want to risk it all by beating me to a pulp - then bring it on, asshole. I’ve been through worse and I’ve got nothing to lose.”

Daniel raised his arms out to his sides in a challenge. He’d rather get his ass kicked a dozen times over than watch those goons touch his best friend again. He watched as the larger Neanderthal’s brain worked through the concept that actions do have consequences.

Apparently, Connor’s brain worked a lot quicker than his counterpart, because he clasped a hand onto Tyler’s shoulder as if to calm him.

“Danny-boy’s right, man. There’s too much at stake for us.” Connor turned back to Daniel with a glare, “We’re not finished here, faggot.”

As the two jocks walked away, Daniel and Charlie shared a look and a sigh of relief, “You okay, Char?”

“I should be asking you the same thing, sweetie. They barely even looked at me.” Charlie said, looking at her best friend with concern.

Daniel shrugged, rubbing his forehead. “I’m just so tired of this shit, Charlie. These giant jackasses thinking that I’m dirt just because I’m gay. It’s so fucking stupid. But, I mean, are they right? Am I less than they are because I’m a faggot?”

Standing at 5 foot ten, with curly black hair that was constantly hanging in his light grey eyes framed by the pair of round glasses that rested on his freckle covered nose, Daniel James was gay.

After coming out to his two best friends at the time Charlie and one of their former friends Grace, he was forced out of the closet. Grace had panicked after hearing the news and she told her parents who then told the entire town and because they lived in a small-ass town in the middle of butt-fuck nowhere of the deep South. That made Daniel a social pariah.

Charlie pulled her best friend into a tight hug, “Oh, honey, no. You are not less than them. If anything, you’re so much more. You don’t have to put other people down to make yourself feel big. All of these ignorantly homophobic assholes are piles of shit compared to you.”

Daniel felt himself be slightly comforted by his friend’s words, but he couldn’t stop the negative thoughts and self-disgust running through his head. The bell for the first period rang, causing the two to pull apart. Daniel grimaced, knowing what that bell meant. For the next fifty minutes, he would be at the will and mercy of the most bigoted teacher on the small campus. “Wish me luck.”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve got P.E. with Coach Jamison, huh? Hell, yeah. I wish you all the luck in the world. You’re gonna need it.” Charlie said with a playful grin.

“Don’t remind me,” Daniel said, rolling his eyes and walking towards the boy’s locker room to change into the required gym uniform. Hopefully, if he got there early enough, Daniel could change in peace and hurry into the gym to get this torture over with.

Daniel found the locker to be empty and he quickly changed out of his flannel and T-shirt, then entered the gymnasium where Coach Jamison glared at him as if Daniel was a piece of dirt on his shoe. It made Daniel’s throat clench.

Daniel hung his head in shame and waited patiently for everyone else to show up in silence. Daniel only looked up after the door opened and he could feel someone’s eyes on him and what he saw made beads of sweat appear on his brow and his throat clench. It was Connor Smith, wearing a grin that sent chills down Daniel’s spine. He thought, ‘This class just somehow got even worse. Fuck me.’

[bananashemmo]

The Fight (Part 3)

Pairing: Y/N/Ashton

Rating: All

Request: Yes

Words: 2.000+

Summary: It’s not often that Ashton and Y/N fight but when Ash decides to go clubbing for another night in a row Y/N calls him out. But things get twisted as Ashton has to go to the stage minutes before and they are pulled apart right in the middle of the argument.

The burning feeling of tequila running down your throat made a grimace cut to your face. You were trying your really best, you were, but the unfamiliar feeling made your eyes almost burst into tears.

How did someone enjoy the feeling? How could someone see this as an escape to get a better life? The only thing you could feel was the pain like cuts in your throat.

You looked confused for a minute just starring out in the air. How had this turned into a good idea and how the hell did you end up here?

Your face was buried into the palm of your hand and you were gazing without blinking at the bartender standing in front of you.

Latina, a little younger but fresh like the cold air outside. He didn’t seem like minding that you were hovering over the bar table like any other alcoholic could do on a usual Friday Night. It was like he was used to it and you weren’t surprised.

Whatever this place was, you didn’t understand that the boys were so desperate to visit it.

Already at the beginning with the 20$ pay to get inside and being mistaken for a minor you were getting frustrated. The bodyguard outside must have felt a bit embarrassed when you almost forced the driver’s license in his face.

It wasn’t the first time you had been mistaken for being younger and at any other night, you would have shown a bit of sympathy but not tonight.

Just the air brushing past your face could get on your nerves.

“This one’s good for hangovers.” The bartender commented, catching your attention.

His finger was pointing down at a red drink that pretty much looked like a Bloody Mary. You glanced down with furrowed eyebrows and adverted your eyes back to his.

“Do I look like I’m in a full on hangover?” You asked, reaching your hand up to touch your forehead. You were sweating but still feeling cold at the same time.

You didn’t feel sick but you could imagine how you looked from far apart. Many words could you describe but none of them were hungover.

“Just assuming.” He hummed, and cleaned off the Royal Beer glass in his hand, “I’m not saying you look horrible I’m just saying that if you look for something to really clear out your problems that’s the one.”

You quivered your eyebrow, thinking, You weren’t sure if he was just being polite to cure whatever your feeling because he was concerned or if he just wanted to sell you one of the most expensive drinks on the card menu.

“I think I’ll pass.” You pushed the empty glass of tequila forward and grabbed your other drink instead. Something simple, a light cider, and definitely not something that would kill your inner organs like that bloody mary.

“Whatever you choose.” He said with a wink and serviced another customer sitting at the other end of the table.

You leaned your head away from the table and took a look around the room.

People were dancing like crazy you didn’t understand where they got the energy from. When you passed eleven at night you just knew it wouldn’t be without a book in your hands and your reading glasses almost falling off your nose.

Some were also sitting down at the paid tables where you could order drinks in large bowls with ice cubs. You had always admired how they found it funny to sit there at the early mornings drinking your brain out.

It wasn’t that you were supposed to be an angel because you weren’t. You had your moments where you were off track as well but it was mostly when you were younger.

You had learned to control your drunk moments and only drink respectfully. You didn’t want to drown your body like any other girl at this club did.

Maybe it was the reason why the boys wanted to show up. Things had no strings and everybody could act like they wanted to without worrying about problems and much else.

You looked back at the bartender who was talking to the old customer next to you.

He seemed to enjoy his job. Found it funny to be the only sober at the club, but still didn’t have to worry about all the problems he had. He could talk to people all he wanted without worrying saying something wrong.

Because they wouldn’t remember it the next day.

Maybe that Bloody Mary was a great idea. You needed something to flush your thoughts away because sometimes, the depression hit.

You didn’t want to think about. It made your stomach ache with pain and your head turn dizzy. More than it already was doing because of the alcohol and you didn’t like it. You hated it.

You knew it was wrong to leave and you knew no matter what you always promised each other even if you could get pissed off and angry. You wouldn’t just leave like that.

But the way he had been so brutal made you want to smack your head against the table. You had done nothing to deserve the way he was treating you, and that was the reason why you wanted to punish him.

“You know, I’d like that Bloody Mary. Strong, please.” You begged the last part and looked at the bartender who gave you a sympathetic smile.

“On me.”

You looked to your right in confusion when a male in a white dress shirt showed up. He had black hair that was pulled into a quiff and a light stubble. Apart from that he still had a younger face.

“Oh really?” You commented, but not as loud as you had expected and he waved his credit card in the air.

You didn’t even get the chance to say no, you were too stunned because it had been a while since someone had shown up like this. You were usually with the boys which meant no other boy would show up all of the sudden.

“My name is Anthony.” He reached his hand forward, introducing.

“Y/N.” You smiled back, deciding just to shake his hand and moved just a bit to the left.

Not because you wanted to invite him to sit down but because he was a little too close for your liking.

“A Bloody Mary? A sad face? Please, enlighten me. Who broke your heart?”

You looked at him confused. Did you look like a starter pack for singles?

“Nobody did.” You shook your head, not wanting to share your privacy.

“Oh come on.” Anthony mentioned, leaning forward to move a strand of hair away from your face. “I know a girl when I look at her.”

You quivered an eyebrow at him unconvinced. He was coming way out of the blue you hadn’t seen him not even on the dance floor. He was probably one of those who sat at the paid tables with a Dom Perignon.

“You’re sad about something a boy you liked said. He didn’t break your heart but he said something that hurt you very deeply and know you don’t know how to handle it.”

You didn’t know if he was comforting or creepy. You didn’t like the way he was smiling at you, yet you were too tired to even care if he was hitting on you. It was a lost coss at the beginning.

“You’re not sure if you’ll forgive him or not. I know it can be hard but please open up to me.”

“I’d prefer if she opened up to me instead, Gel-boy.” A tall frame came from Anthony’s behind and even though you felt a burning sensation in your stomach it was only by a quick second replaced with relief.

Anthony looked over his shoulder and his eyes widened when he noticed Cal and the others stand behind supporting Ashton’s back.

You almost wanted to roll your eyes because he had brought them along but you couldn’t help but feel just a little bit happy to see him.

“Now if you would excuse me... I’ve got a lady who’s got all the rights she has to yell at my face.”

You looked up at Ashton when he pushed past Anthony to get to you. His hand was inviting you to grab it and even though you were pissed you gave him hopeful eyes.

Pushing past the crowd you left Anthony alone with the rest of the boys and were followed by Ashton towards one of the public bathrooms. Luckily nobody was in sight so you were able to speak in privacy.

You didn’t want to yell at him, you didn’t want to scream. You could tell that he was having the same feeling and he slowly leaned you against the wall to press his forehead against yours.

“I said something that I can’t take back.” He laced your fingers and looked at you deeply into your eyes.

“.. And all I can think about is rewinding the clock to that moment just before ‘Stupid’ took over. I should never have said the words I said because it came out of anger and not how I’m feeling.”

You tried your best not to cry because imagining the words in your mind hurt.

“I know that it’s going to take a while before you forgive me and I know it takes a bigger heart to forgive than saying sorry. You’re my most precious thing in this world and not everyone can deal with the stuff we’re going through. It’s life living on constant stress being in this industry and you do it for me every single day. Take your time out just to make my life the easiest. I don’t think I can ever fully describe how much I love you for taking so much of your time to be with me here on this tour. I’m sorry Y/N. I’m so so sorry of what I did. I wish I could erase it from our minds.”

He was whispering the last part while leaning his forehead against yours. Almost only brushing.

You could feel how he was shaking and how he was trying not to stumble over his words. He had been practicing the whole speech on his way to the club and you were surprised about his skills.

“How-, How did you find me?” You swallowed deeply and looked into his hazel eyes.

“I know my girl... Luckily it always brings me back to her.” He whispered the last part and traced some hair behind your ear.

You nodded your head by his words and sighed carefully.

“If you promise me. Really promise me that you won’t say something like that again... I'll forgive you.”

“Of course I’ll promise you that.” He started to pepper your face with kisses, waiting for the second he saw a small smile appear on your face.

“You know I love you so so much what’s hurting you is also hurting me.”

“I love you too.” You leaned into his touch and enjoyed the silence.

Completely blocking out the loud noises of bass coming from the disco area. You were just resting in his warm embrace enjoying the peaceful feeling of his heart beating against your ear.

“So do you want to go back and get a drink?” You asked carefully.

Ashton snorted like what you had said was a complete joke. You didn’t understand what he was hinting at but then he laced your fingers even tighter.

“Of course not. We’re going home to the hotel, find a movie on Netflix and then we’re going to couple the rest of the night.”

You didn’t say anything but the smile on your face told a million words.

Swinging an arm over your shoulder he held you close as you came outside to the cold streets, walking down holding each other for dear life.

[wordstrings]

Of Maintenance Part 2: Physical Therapy

Written and submitted by @ask-flip-frost​; a sequel to Of Maintenance. (Publisher’s notes can be found at the end of the work.) Words: 4,300

Things were changing. Whether they were more spooky or less spooky with the developing knowledge was difficult to say, though. Several everyday phenomena which Sam and Dean had taken to be the result of Castiel’s telekinetic abilities had been debunked as something far more simple. In the week since his medicinal bath, the grace-touch Cas had granted to the Winchester’s eyes had not faded out. His wings were still visible to them. As such, they began to notice all manner of peculiar things.

For starters, Castiel was not nearly as statuesque as they’d always perceived him to be. Even if the rest of his body seemed to be standing perfectly still, his wings gave away that he was, in fact, constantly fidgeting. Often it was only a gentle twitch or sway, but other times it would be the sort of swift flap one might see from a bird debating its position on a branch as the angel settled onto the living area’s couch. The first time that happened had scared the hell out of Dean and he’d fallen onto the floor with a loud curse. Out of courtesy, the brothers would give a wider berth now to accommodate the limbs, though the wings would always shift themselves to or fro as needed regardless as they always had ‘behind the scenes’.

“I am beginning to understand why Humans are uncomfortable with long stares.” Castiel commented as he picked a lore book from a high shelf in a pincer motion with the alula of either wing.

Dean started in place. He hadn’t realized that he’d been staring again. He grunted quietly and went back to fake-reading for a case. Well, ‘case’ in the sense that it wasn’t really their sort of thing, but they were bored out of their minds. Idle hands being tools of the devil, he could definitely understand how so many bad decisions came in moments where a person was left with nothing to drown out melancholy thoughts. Might as well research old serial killers and have debates on whether or not they were supernaturally inclined.

“I always thought you did that with your brain, I dunno. Some floaty angel shit.” Dean shrugged, dropping both the pretense and his book “Still getting used to it.”

“I use my brain to move my wings.” Castiel rolled his eyes, thumbing through his volume. “I could lift something by altering the molecular structure of the air around it, but it seems like wasted effort.”

With Cas’ attention divided by reading, the elder Winchester felt as if he could chance another appraising look at the wings. This time, he was moreso checking on their healing progress. Any time he’d gotten close enough to attempt to give them a once-over, they’d folded up protectively against the angel’s back. The skin certainly seemed healthier. Feathers were coming in nicely. A marked rise in Castiel’s mood might have been linked to their recovery.

“Dean.” Cas admonished.

“What?”

Cas turned to face him straight on, irritated as fully as a woman who didn’t want someone ogling her legs. He closed the distance and waited until Dean met his eyes. It took more than a few seconds.

“Alright, I get it, I get it. I wouldn’t have to be so damn sneaky about it if you’d let us actually check them. We said we wanted to help, and you promised you’d let us.” Dean fussed. “It’s been a week, and all you’re doing is just… misting them like house plants with that oil stuff. I wanted to make sure they’re getting better. Sue me.”

“…Oh,”

“Whaddaya mean oh?”

All this time, Castiel had felt that he was being viewed as somewhat of a side-show. The extra space given, the hidden peeks, and the badgering about keeping up on moisturizing the damaged skin had been giving him mixed signals on whether or not he was being treated as… well, he wasn’t sure. But he didn’t like it. He dropped his eyes, embarrassed.

“I misunderstood the reason for your leering.” Cas admitted quietly.

“Leering? Who’s leering?” Dean demanded, slapping the table to get full attention when Cas glanced away. “No, you look at me. If you think for a minute that we’re just gawking for the sake of seeing something weird, then you really need to get your head out of your ass, Cas. We stare because we care.”

That didn’t sound creepy. Ah, shit, he’d rhymed as well.

Castiel gave a begrudged nod. While he didn’t particularly care for being scolded like a child, he would be remiss to ignore the small flutter of importance that had bloomed in his chest from it. Something he’d perceived to be bordering on hateful was actually just the Winchesters’ way of looking after him without being obvious about it.

Feeling that his point had been made, Dean pushed up from the table and pointed an accusing finger as he backed out of the library.

“Alright. I’m going to pick Sammy up and grab some grub. When I get back, you’re getting a full check-up. No buts.”

If Castiel had been properly miffed, it would have been as easy as leaving before Dean returned to avoid further possibility of ridicule. But he stayed. Heaven help him, he stayed.

–

When the door to the bunker swung open by way of an aggressive hip, Castiel looked up briefly from his book and gave both Winchesters an expression of acknowledgement. Sam had been out all day, but where he had no idea. Both Sam and Dean had their arms full of takeout and grocery bags, though it seemed unlikely that the younger brother had been shopping for the last seven hours.

Behind Cas, there was some sort of structured movement going on. It reminded Sam of some upper body calisthenics demonstrated in a documentary about Victorian housewives he’d watched in college; the kind of exercise that only worked a set group of muscles, as was appropriate for ladies at the time. Not that he’d say that out loud. It looked a bit silly, though.

“The hell are you doing?” Dean asked bluntly.

“Stretching.” Cas didn’t look up a second time.

“Are you sore?” Sam prompted.

“No more than usual.” the angel replied with a sigh.

“How usual is usual?” Sam pressed on.

Castiel closed his book and deposited it on a table.

“Your legs are long.” Cas stated, waiting for Sam to agree to this observation before continuing. “If you are in a car for a long period of time, they become cramped, correct? Imagine if you were over one thousand feet tall, and compressed to a vessel that does not even clear six feet. Sometimes it helps to stretch, if only a little.”

It was easy to forget how big Castiel was supposed to be in a natural state when he was forever looking up at them. They understood how dangerous it would be for the angel to leave the vessel empty for any amount of time, so taking a break somewhere to fully unleash himself was unlikely to work out well.

“Okay, well-“ Sam yanked Dean’s shirt to prevent him waltzing away from putting groceries up. “We’ve been thinking about that a little, actually. Dean’s been calling physical therapy clinics in the area to get advice on what we can do to make things better for you.”

“Sneaking.” Dean interjected.

“-And I went to the vet clinic to volunteer with a bird rehabilitation group today. So I think we’ll have a better idea on how to handle helping you along.” Sam continued. “Got a few things we can try, but we’ll see how it goes and kind of play it by ear.”

At a loss for words, Castiel blinked and looked from one brother to the other. His don’t bother worrying about me, I am not worth it train of thought was solidly arguing with his I am deeply humbled and thankful to be cared about train of thought.

“The therapists all told us to check range of motion and try to balance resistance exercises and stretches with massages to release tension in the muscles.” Dean explained, slapping Cas on the shoulder. “Who’s a lucky duck?”

Cas pulled a grumpled expression as Dean turned back to stack cans of sloppy joe sauce in the cabinet.

“I am not a duck.” he huffed.

“Ya might as well be. That’s all Sammy’s been practicing on all day.” Dean laughed. “You’ll be the first on his client list not to peck at him. Or maybe you will, I dunno. You were pretty twitchy last time we had hands on you, so~”

Eyes to the ceiling, Castiel asked his Father for whatever strength he needed not to stuff Dean into a garbage can. He was thankful that the teasing was not further pursued while the remaining groceries were sorted. The time was spent going over what each brother had learned in their separate endeavors. He learned that Sam had been followed by an entire flock of some forty-odd ducks when it was time for him to leave, and that Dean had been given love letters by three old women and one old man after a day of working in senior physical therapy earlier in the week. As a point of pride, he’d kept all of them like trophies.

“Here, these are for you.” Sam tugged a pack of jersey knit pajama pants out of the last bag and passed them over to Cas. “So you don’t have to borrow any. Go ahead and change. There’s a shirt, too, but we need it off for now so we can see what we’re doing.”

Castiel ran his hand over the plastic with a quiet thank you. It crinkled softly in his fingers. Technically speaking, he didn’t own a single article of clothing besides what was already on his person. Any that he’d worn during his period as a human had been discarded as a means to bury the memory of his many struggles. Those clothes had all been second-hand anyway, though. These were new, expressly for him. A touching gesture to say the least.

This time, he didn’t feel nearly as self-conscious changing out of his normal attire. For a long moment, he fiddled with the drawstrings of his trousers to ensure that they were perfectly fit before tying a messy knot. Something which looked only sort of like a bow, but it was good enough. Learning to tie his shoes during his humanity stint had been quite a journey, but a small child who’d wandered off from her mother in the mall had been kind enough to show him as best she could manage. The things you needed to know as an ‘adult’ were hardly ever clear until you were in the moment, he’d come to find.

When Cas returned, he saw that a table in the library had been fixed up with lots of folded blankets to create a padded surface. Not strictly necessary, but it was nice to see all the same. A groaning sigh dramatic enough to rival a Kansas twister whooshed from his lungs in pure disapproval as Dean sauntered in wearing a lab coat, carrying a clip board.

“What?” Dean scoffed. “Too much?”

“YEAH.” came the unison reply.

“Fine. Buncha killjoys.” Dean muttered, shrugging out of the coat and tossing it in a rumpled pile on a chair. “Up on the table, big guy. Stretch out the wings as far as they’ll go side to side. Don’t let them droop if you can help it. We need to see if any of your muscles have atrophied.”

One foot pressed to a chair, Castiel pushed up on the table and settled into a comfortable sitting position, legs dangled somewhat stiffly over the side. A few small pops worked in the joints as he slowly reached his wings out in a wide t-shape. He wasn’t all together sure if that was a problem in the vessel’s shoulders or in his actual wings. Later he would run a checklist of all of the organic components which didn’t strictly belong to him. Well. They did now, he supposed.

“Try making circles, then go up and down.” Sam frowned at the noise, flipping through a little field guide he’d been given that day. “Does it hurt?”

“No,” Cas shook his head, complying with the request easily. “It’s a relief. Everything has felt a little-“

“Flabby?” Dean supplied brightly. “Since you haven’t been able to go out for a sky spin in forever?”

If looks could kill.

“…tight. I have been exercising them, but the stiffness remains.” Cas grumbled. “My wing muscles are not flabby.”

“Touched a nerve on that one.” Dean huffed under his breath, eyebrows jumped up.

Quick to diffuse, Sam cleared his throat.

“You need recovery days to let muscles rest. Even if you’ve never needed them before, you’ve also never really been in a vessel for this long, right? Celestial energy verses physically shrunk down has got to have differences in how your wings react to things, especially after trauma. You said it feels cramped and tight, so let’s work from there. I’ll apply pressure. Try to keep from lowering your wings.” Sam advised, taking up a position behind the brooding angel.

Slowly he pushed down, little by little adding more force. The wings didn’t move an inch. They were warm and solid. A far cry less ashy-looking than the last time he’d touched them as well. Resistance didn’t seem to be a problem. There was no tremble of fatigue, but the muscles were heavily bunched.

“Not flabby.” Sam confirmed, noting with amusement how Cas’ feathers puffed a little in pride.

“See?” Cas sniffed in a superior tone.

“Got it.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“It was easy.” Cas added.

“I got it.” Dean repeated.

“Like they were baby hands.”

“Got it, Cas. Not flabby.”

Sam looked down at his giant paws and mouthed baby hands before reaching into a small box on the table. He began carefully laying out a collection of wires and pads. When he caught Castiel looking curiously over his shoulder, he held up the box to show a picture. The edges of the cardboard were slightly dog-eared from age, but the contents had been kept in pristine condition.

“TENS unit,” Sam explained. “I do long distance runs, and sometimes when my muscles get overworked, this helps kill off the pain and kind of forces them to relax after you use it. It stimulates your nerves with electricity pulses.”

When he was met with a wary expression, Sam rolled up his own sleeve and stuck two of the leads to his forearm. He fiddled with the settings and clicked the machine to life. Small twitches in his muscles were apparent.

“See? It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt. It’s weird, but DeanDeanDeanDON’T- AH!”

Unable to help himself, Dean plucked up the unit and cranked the dial WAY up, chuckling deeply as Sam’s arm convulsed into weird positons.

“This thing is WILD, Cas. We used to play a drinking game with these where you try to balance a ping pong ball on a spoon while it’s buzzing you, and if you dropped it, you had to take a shot.” Dean smirked, shutting the machine off, to Sam’s relief. “So just so you’re prepared, if it jerks you around a little, it’s fine. Doesn’t hurt, there are just places it isn’t safe to go, like around your heart. If Sammy can take it, you can take it. If it gets too sore, let us know and we’ll shut it down. Sound good?”

Cas nodded, actually a little relieved at the show of absurdity. It made him feel less like a specimen. There were no further protests as Sam began attaching leads to the meatiest sections of his wings and one on each shoulder blade at the joint. Anywhere where the knots were especially tight. The stickiness of the pads felt strange, but not particularly uncomfortable.

“You good?” Dean asked.

“Yes,” the angel replied, bracing his hands on the edge of the table.

“I figure we’ll let this run for a little while, then we’ll massage out the rest of those tense spots manually. You can go for a soak after. It’ll be a good day.” Dean promised.

“I’ll go get some of the leftover oil.” Sam offered. “Unless you already got some lotion or something for today?”

Dean thought to the small bottle of Jergens in his room… in a box… with his questionable reading material. The only lotion he owned.

“Nope,” the older Winchester lied.

“Right. Uh. Hang on, I’ll be right back.”

The last thing Dean wanted was to endure something overly floral for this very manly process, so he turned to follow at his brother’s heels to micromanage the scent choices.

“Dean-“ Castiel interrupted his departure. “I’m sorry.”

“…For what?” Dean squinted.

“Earlier today. I thought… I thought you were being condescending. I’m sorry for being upset.”

Dean’s face went a little slack with guilt. Cas shouldn’t have to apologize for feeling upset. He spent so much of his time self-loathing already. All members of Team Free Will had a certain lack of communication skills when it came to sensitive topics, and Dean wasn’t exactly the most emotionally mature person when his pride was stinging.

“Yeah, well. Forget it, okay? I wasn’t exactly being up front about stuff.” Dean shrugged, looking for immediate escape from a dissection of character. “Be right back. Stay put.”

Now, the wisest course of action would have been for Castiel to wait patiently for the brothers to return, but frankly, he wanted to know what he was in for so that he would be able to adjust his reactions accordingly. If he could anticipate the jolts, then perhaps he could work against them to avoid looking quite as ridiculous as Sam had. Blue eyes kept sliding from the TENS unit to the door and back again. The oils were kept in the recovery room with all of the tubs, so he’d have at least two or three minutes to himself. Sam and Dean were strollers if there wasn’t a need for hurry. Ever so slowly, he reached out and closed a hand over the little machine.

–

“What’s wrong with lavender?” Sam groaned.

“It stinks, Sam. Use the sandalwood.”

“THAT stinks!”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

After much grumbling, they finally decided on eucalyptus, if only because Cas had mentioned that he’d liked the scent previously. This was about him after all. Before starting back to the library, they begrudgingly claimed a truce to avoid making the angel any more uncomfortable with sibling bickering. That was when both brothers were startled by flickering lights.

“Cas.” Dean stated, breaking into a run.

The door banged open.

Down on the floor, curled into a twitching ball against the table, was Castiel… doing something they’d only witnessed once before. The poor fellow was laughing, deep and rich and panicked. There was something else mixed with the sound; something almost musical and very, very strange. It made the humans go slightly cross-eyed for a second. They rubbed their faces hard to correct this. At least their ears weren’t screaming in pain.

“OFF!” Cas choked out.

Electricity was buzzing straight through his muscles down into his very grace. It wasn’t only that the unit gave off a tingling pulse over various sensitive points in his wings and shoulders. That would have been bad enough, especially the patches jolting into his wing pits. No, this was something altogether unbearable. Castiel hadn’t even been aware that his very essence of being was capable of falling subject to these sorts of sensations, but save him it tickled and tickled and tickled relentlessly. The entire world was blurred at the edges and all he knew was a crazed swirling of mirth and chaos exploding through his core. It was everywhere, inside and out.

“Hold on, hold on…” Dean tried, though it was doubtful that Cas could even hear him through the forced giggling and weird melodic notes.

Trying to get close enough to Castiel to snatch the machine up was like running a gauntlet. His wings were suffering from a combination of tickle shimmies and electric pulse muscle spasms. Any time Sam or Dean ducked in to make a grab, they were pummeled by a wall of feathers. Dean could taste blood after a clock to his nose, but adrenaline and amusement kept him from noticing more than a vague sting.

“Cas… Cas we can’t… you’ve gotta…” Dean weaved and batted.

“Work with us, Cas!” Sam grunted, hanging onto one wing for dear life as it thrashed him up and down as if he weighed nothing.

“T-t-t!!!” Cas tried to form words through his laughter, arms clutched tight around his middle.

Desperation incarnate, he reached out lightning quick with the miniscule amount of grace able to bend to his will and yanked the boys in close with it. This had the unfortunate side effect of spreading the sensation as the essence touched down on them, leaving both Winchesters doubled up in helpless wheezing cackles against their angelic friend. What the hell was this non-physical tickly feeling???

“CAS D-!!! CAN’T HE-HELP IF?!” Dean snorted.

They were screwed. Caught in the loop of laughter. What a way to go out.

Until…

It seemed that the reapers would not be coming for them on that particular day. Whether from divine intervention or dumb luck, the device shut off. A collective gasp for air sounded through the room.

“Shit… that tickled.” Dean heaved. “What happened?”

“It would seem that my grace is… vulnerable to electric stimulation.” Castiel rolled onto his back and put a hand over his face in a mixture of relief and embarrassment.

Nobody moved. There was a strange afterglow of sheer contentment from the shared-grace-giggling experience, though nobody was quick to admit how good they felt at the moment.

“Timer.” Sam stated finally. “I have a default timer of five minutes on it. That’s why it shut off.”

“Yeah, well, we’re gonna have to turn the settings WAY down on that thing because I don’t think I can handle that again right now if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace.” Dean rolled up into a sit and started aligning the intensity controls.

Cas made an instinctive reach for the device, which Dean deftly avoided.

“Not our fault you turned it on when it was set high. We’re still doing this, but we’re doing it right. Lower pulse ought to be fine. Back up on the table.”

Wide eyed and nervous, Castiel resumed his original position. He was still just a little too drunk on the endorphin spike to pull an annoyed expression, but still swiftly gripped a wrist on each brother.

“Don’t leave this time.” he insisted.

Sam and Dean shared a look, then jumped up to sit on either side of him. When he gave a small nod to signal his mental steel-up, the TENS unit once again buzzed to life, this time at a far more tolerable frequency. Only just, but tolerable all the same. His grace gave out pulsing shivers, almost as if nails were running over sensitized skin.

Hands balled in the padding blankets and legs lightly squirming for purchase over the side of the table, Castiel tried his best to bear through the time. He dug his chin down into his collar bone as breathy giggles clawed their way to the surface. Nope. A grown man-angel shouldn’t be allowed to be this adorable.

“This is supposed to be relaxing. Are you relaxed?” Dean grinned, giving a little poke to one of the wiggling wings.

“I AM NO-HOT!”

Sam held back a snort to avoid embarrassing the angel, but threw Dean a can you believe this expression when Cas tipped to his side and pressed muffled laughter into his jacket sleeve. Both brothers held a supportive hand to the angel’s back.

“Cas, we’d better not catch you alone like this again in your free time. If we need you for a case and you’re just holed up under the table having a tickle party for one-”

“Be quiet, De-hean!” Cas interrupted him with a giggly shove from the closest wing. “I’ll make you… I’ll make you feel…”

It was hardly an intimidating threat at the moment. The teasing verbal jabs seemed to up the intensity of whatever was happening with the celestial energy, and Castiel’s eyes were shining bright with tears by the time the machine beeped to signal the end of its cycle.

“Finished.” Sam announced in a sympathetic tone.

“Already?” Cas asked, wiping away the evidence of his mirth crying.

“Already?” Dean repeated, amused.

“It seemed to go by much faster. Perhaps, time being relative and also being that the potency of the treatment was at a marked decrease, my tolerance was raised for the challenge. It was pleasant. The effect on my grace was thoroughly enjoyable.” Castiel acknowledged, squinting at the Winchesters’ surprised expressions. “Did I not elucidate this well enough?”

Carefully, he stretched out his wings, noting with satisfaction that they felt remarkably limber as compared to the prickly tightness from the beginning of the day. He gave a soft yelp when fingers began picking at the TENS pads to unstick them from his skin. A bit over-sensitive from prolonged tingles, it was a struggle to wrench his wings up to allow the leads to be peeled away from the joints at his shoulder blades. They snapped down repeatedly and he shook his head with a scrunched nose of valiant failed effort. It wasn’t until Dean reached out a tickly grab to Cas’ knee to redirect sensation that he buckled in and became uncoordinated enough for Sam to strip everything free.

When everything had been boxed back up, it was difficult to ignore that Castiel’s expression remained bright and pleased. He looked happy. With any luck, maybe in the future that would not feel like such a foreign thing to see.

———

Publisher’s Notes: I absolutely LOVED getting to toss around ideas with you, some of which ended up straight here! This is so precious, and the line “...if Wiggles over here gets grabby with his grace” is a particular treasure. Thank you so much for blessing us with this continuation! <3

[sxgaboo]

“ talk to me. ”

《 @epigrvm ; misc sentence starters　　　　　　　　　　　　　　 STILL ACCEPTING 》↴

　　　　　　　　The business trip, it had happened all so suddenly ― neither of them had expected it to happen but that’s how sangcheols’ work was now, when he got promoted, it was one of the first things he mentioned after the excitement and celebration that the older male got it, something to which he deserved due to  being such a hard worker. although the fact of business trips only meant a couple of days, jaehwan didn’t like the idea, he hated it infact, although he was happy for the older male, travelling for clients that one day might even be in another country rather than a different state of korea, it just meant with his work clashing with the time he had to go, jaehwan couldn’t always go with him and although these type of trips weren’t going to be often, eventually they might be. three days felt like a whole week. was  that a bad thing that he felt that way? too clung onto the older male to not want him to be away for that long. the bed felt empty when he tried to sleep at night, restless. most people would be able to get through this sort of thing, right? stay strong, it’s just three nights.. alone. 

　　　　　　　　Exchanged text messages were replied to sometimes  between hours rather than minutes due to the busy state the older male was in, but when they were finally able to talk to one another through video call on the second night, after jaehwan asked if they could ― falling asleep like this, being able to look at the males’ face was better than falling asleep to embracing the blanket and laying on his boyfriends side of the bed. his low voice over the phone sounded like sweet music to his ears, the kind where he wanted to play on repeat for hours until it lured him into a slumber. it made him feel calm and made his whole being feel alive despite the exhaustion of lack of sleep and having to work; dealing with clients that had too many questions for his brain to process on what they were asking for. maybe it was the small pout that had formed on his tiers, falling into a headspace of nothing but selfishness of, I want you here, with me. now but sangcheols words leave a small pause and the crease between his brows shows just how worried he looks. 

　　　　　　　　❝I just really miss you.. I know it’s only been two days.. but I hate being apart from you.❞ deeply he exhales, the words come out finally and he removes his gaze from the screen of the phone. ❝I don’t like coming home, knowing that you’re still working, that you’re not coming back yet, eating by myself sucks and so does sleeping.. and it just makes me realised..❞ his lips curl downwards and he shakes his head, jaehwan had companionships, it wasn’t much at all these days, the person he’d say he was closest to was always travelling too, she made time for him when she was in seoul but she was busy too ― alot of people left and it was hard to stay in contact with people, the company would be nice but.. ❝when you’re not home, on these business trips, I realise how lonely I can get.❞

　　　　　　　　His nose feels stuffy, and he doesn’t want to break down while on the phone with his boyfriend, doesn’t want him to feel bad in anyway because he couldn’t be home right now ― that would just make him feel guilty but he never wanted to hold back his thoughts, not with sangcheol. he always had a open mind and wanted to hear and know what was going through jaehwans. ❝I’m sorry.. I just miss you and want you home. I wanna cuddle you to sleep.. please come home soon..❞ his pout is on display again, shifting himself to lay on his back and hold his phone up instead, anything to help himself not to fall asleep, he wanted to talk to sangcheol for as long as he possibly could.

[tirkarokujo]

Tirk dreams of Tabletops pt. 1: The Dungeon Doofery begins.

I’m now experimenting with doing some half-baked word salad I’m calling “writing” for shitposts longer than 140 characters and throwing them on this blog. Might make a new blog for this soon idk, but for now you’re free to read my antics with Tabletop RPGs after the jump.

5 years...wow! It's now been 5 whole years since I ran the very first tabletop RPG campaign for my group that I've stuck with through this entire half decade of rolling virtual dice, so it feels only right to reflect on my many ups and downs when it's come to this sweet hobby of mine.

Traditional role playing has always been something inherently ingrained into me since the very day my brain developed enough to form original thoughts. It's kinda like that for everyone if you think about it. Tabletop role playing is essentially a more sophisticated version of those games of pretend you'd play with whatever you could scrape out of your toy bin, where one would weave dramatic sweeping narratives in which He-Man, Optimus Prime, Goku, Donkey Kong, and the floating disembodied torso of Hulk Hogan beat the shit out of/kiss eachother in Barbie's dream house or have a hollywood blockbuster worthy car chase on that street map rug everyone owned for some reason.

We as humans just have an inherent desire to play out hypothetical scenarios in our head with whatever resources we have, and even the inevitable sands of time aren't enough to wash that feeling away. No matter how advanced our technology gets, barring a technological singularity that turns us all into gods capable of shaping worlds with our fingertips, nothing will ever truly replace the limitless scope of our imagination as our greatest form of entertainment. Even mediums such as video games and movies still rely on some level of imagination on the part of the audience to truly sell the worlds it's trying to convey. So in that sense, you can say that I've been technically tabbletopping all my life. But if we wanna get literal, my first exposure to tabletop RPGs was a little roundabout. I had always -heard- of the name Dungeons and Dragons thrown about here and there, and I knew it was a game of some kind, I just had no idea what nor any desire to find out. If I'm to wager a guess, I suppose I thought it was some kind of board game akin to RISK or Settlers of Catan? idk. That's what I gathered out of the one time it was parodied on Dexter's Lab.So my first time getting introduced to real tabletop role playing was in....Yu-Gi-Oh, of all places.

Yeah, I'm serious. Bear with me for a second.In the final arc of what's popularly known as "Season zero" of the Yugioh manga, when the actual card game was just one of many games that were featured, the final shadow game to end them all was an arc hosted by Yami Bakura called "Monster World." During the Monster World arc, the rules of the titular game was more meticulously explained as all of the games featured in the manga were. It was clearly supposed to be a take on D&D or perhaps some other TRPG that was popular in japan at the time, like Sword World. Either way I read the arc and thought it was the absolute coolest shit ever and I soon got hard at work at making my own playable version of Monster World, which didn't get very far before I found out some way or another lost to the sea of time that Monster World was just supposed to be a parody of D&D. My general thought process then being "holy shit what have I been missing this whole time" and soon enough I got my hands on a boxed Dungeons and Dragons 3.5e starter kit with a dungeon map, pre-made characters, a bunch of miniatures, everything I could have ever asked for. Not long after that I then obtained the 3.5e Dungeon Masters handbook.

Even without playing the game, my mind got simply swept up in the endless possibilities. Fuck all these other so-called "role playing" games, here this tome is just telling me that I can just make my own adventures where anyone can do anything without the confines of a video game telling you what you can and can't do, and that people have been doing this for DECADES now? It really was just the old days of playing with plastic tat, but now more legitimized with an actual ruleset that gives some much needed grounding to the proceedings, and slightly better knowledge of storytelling conventions under my belt. I'd pour over the dungeon masters guide for hours just reading all the facts about magic items and the different planes and how to build a dungeon, I could just get lost in that shit forever. So naturally I got to work making my own campaign (keep in mind I had no idea how to actually play the game, I just figured you rolled dice and damage happened, which is all I needed) and tried to get some of my friends to play it. That's where things went downhill fast.

See, when I was just a little piece of shit in his early teens, me and my squad were undeniably as geek as it could get. We talked about video games, anime, the YTMND-era internet, hustled Yu-gi-oh cards, everything. We were straight up building a game in Game Maker at the time. You literally couldn't mistake us for anything else. And yet, despite all this, nobody besides me was actually comfortable with playing some good old D&D when I got a hold of  everything. In their own paraphrased words, even they knew it was just "too nerdy" for them. Too nerdy. Seriously. Here this dude who I spent many sleepless nights discussing the intricacies of Mega Man lore with telling me something is too nerdy for them. Admittedly, I can't call them out too hard on this, as it probably just isn't something they were keen on, and I don't think it's entirely uncommon for tabletop role playing to have a sort of stigma attached to it, even among "geek" types.

Let me go off on a tangent here to differentiate between two opposite ends of the spectrum of fandom-based culture, and that's "consumerist" and "transformative." Consumerists have, as far as I seen, been the dominating force of geek culture, especially among young males such as myself. Consumerists take pride mainly in their massive collections of games, movies, figures, and other various do-dads as the means of expressing their devotion to their hobbies. When they are doing creative work, it's mainly for reviews, tutorials, editorials, theorization essays, or collecting trivia that pertains to their subjects of interest. While there's certainly nothing wrong with being a slave for the massive capitalist machine that will inevitably kill us all, as after all I still partake in buying a bunch of useless media trinkets in a futile attempt to fill in my empty soul, it definitely feels like the most acceptable and "safe" way of being on the fringe of fandom culture.

The other end of the spectrum, transformative, aren't simply satisfied with what already exists. These are the peeps who go beyond what they see on the screen, and take it in their hands to answer the question of what if Cloud and Barret totally FUCKED. These are the kind of people that write obscenely long fanfiction about that old early 2000s cartoon you forgot about until now, and run an extensive AU RP blog in which the entire cast of Undertale are professional shoplifters and tax evaders. Not tryna make any sweeping statements here, but it always seemed to me that the more artistic/creative side of fandom culture has always been more inclusive and liberal, while consumerists have always been more conservative. (Not like in a political sense, but I mean the actual definition of conservative, being more reserved and not trying to overstep any boundaries or push the envelope in any way.) There's probably a multitude of reasons for this, but I won't get into them here.

The thing about being transformative though is that you tend to be raked against the coals a lot more. Normally when someone has to take a couple of cheap shots at some kind of fanbase, the ones that are put up to pasture first are the creative types.  Indeed, being a creative within a particular fanbase is going to be suffering no matter what. When you think of easily-mocked aspects of fan culture, you think of the cheesy fanfiction or the weird fanart or the freaky RP bloggers or the Mary Sue OCs, the whole package. And while it's undeniable that yes, SOME creative works aren't the best or most holy, it's dishearteningly common for some enthusiasts to straight up discourage any kind of creative thought within a fanbase, even if it's just kids having fun with their silly new Korra AU. And yes, this kind of stigma even extends to tabletop role playing games.

In the case of my friends, they were probably more on the consumerist end, though it's also entirely possible they were influenced by the popular perception that D&D was just "that nerd shit." Well, no matter how many times I try to deconstruct it, what matters is that I didn't really have anyone to play with so my interest in TRPGs dropped off after that. Flash forward to about 2011, when I was semi-well established in my new online circle, and a good chunk of my chat group was into this thing called "PTA." No it has nothing to do with parent teacher conferences, but rather it's an acronym for "Pokemon Tabletop Adventures," an RPG system based loosely off of 4e that obv centers around those goddamn Pokemon critters. You know, the thing where the guy comes out of the thing and he starts auhgbabaabhgbl, Pokemon. I don't remember if I was still interested in getting back into tabletops back then, but I largely ignored all that hubbub because 1. don't think I really cared about Pokemon all too much back then, and 2. the main dude who the tabletop group revolved around, we'll just call him Thrice, was a guy I absolutely could not stand, so the idea of needing to listen to that screeching cat even more was an absolute nightmare. (He's now one of my best friends, but I think he's still convinced I hate him now just as much as I did back then.) Still, eventually I got interested in playing, and he hooked me up with a player role in one of his new campaigns around late 2011.

I was pretty impressed with just how much Thrice was willing to teach me just about everything; I still remember that day when he was showing me to ropes and took so long to explain everything I stayed up until the wee hours of sunrise for the first time since high school ended. So naturally, I completely forgot everything and needed the rules re-explained to me throughout the entire campaign. Thus, the first tabletop campaign I ever had the privilege of playing was some generic Pokemon league setup. I think there was some darker undertones involving brainwashing or something, idk I forget and nobody had the common sense to archive the sessions back then. My character was a news reporter named Lauren, and I guess this series now gives me a good a time as ever to explain my exact thought process when it came to decisions I made with my characters and campaigns to my group. Lauren was an amalgamation of things I was into back then, such as Dead Rising and Kino's Journey (which is where she got her appearance token from) but the idea of playing a journalist/reporter funnily enough came from the "Wrestler" minigame in Rhythm Heaven Fever. I wanted to play a sort of reporter like that, but with kind of a dark edge to it, where she secretly resented and wanted to cuss out everyone she had to be nice to in order to keep her job. The idea was that'd she'd be nice out the outside but then occasionally go on BB Hood type violent outbursts and keep just about everyone on her shitlist, but it turned out a little too hard to RP back then, so what ended up happening was that she'd just be more of a lowkey pissy jerkface who wasn't incredibly pleasant to hang around, but I guess it could have gone worse.

PTA had a "photographer" class so I felt it was a natural fit for Lauren given her profession and all. Big mistake apparently, as the Photographer more of a support type class (with a lot of said supports not having much combat application) and her personality was more suited to a physical bruiser, so that definitely put a damper on my enjoyment.My first real exposure to some good ol' tabletop discourse was during a particular encounter. Thrice had decided to throw at us an encounter that was....interestingly balanced to say the least. It was a dude who had so many high level Pokemon that just one of them could have counted as its own boss, so the fact that so many of these death monsters was coming out of this dude like the world's most painful clown car meant that we didn't stand much of a chance before we got wiped out. I'm not sure if it was an "unwinnable" situation but either way I remember it pissing off most of the player base and the general perception of that campaign went downhill since. This is the first of like...maybe two times, perhaps three, where we learned one of the most important lessons in Tabletop RPG balance ever: Never, ever have an unwinnable fight because it's never going to go as well as you want, and if it does it's gonna suck ass, just don't do it fam. Eventually the campaign and that entire era of PTA died soon for reasons that I don't remember, tho it's not hard to understand why. But still, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have fun, so naturally next time we flash forward to March of 2012 when I decide to jump right into running my own damn tabletop RPG, with miniboss squads and hookers, and occasionally go other more observations of the medium as a whole in a completely disorganized fashion.

[theeurekaproject]

Conscientia

On the highest levels of Eleutheria, she could see the sky.

It wasn't the real sky, of course. The true, unaltered sky was a haze of gray fog and poisonous mist; if she breathed in the real sky, she'd probably screw up her cells so much she'd have cancer on top of her cancer. The truth was ugly and dangerous, so they'd covered it all with a strange mixture of forcefields and computer-generated images of blue split occasionally by fluffy white cumulus clouds from which rain never fell. Ordinarily, the smog and grime of the lower levels permeated the atmosphere so much that it was hard to even see through the thick, smoky air, but Alestra, of course, would have none of that for her precious lungs.

Carina sighed. She didn't know why she was so angry at Alestra; she'd never offended her personally. She was scary and intimidating and almost creepily beautiful, but that was true for all Imperatrices—supposedly. Of course, the latest coronation was the first exchange of power Carina had been alive to see; Imperatrix Harmonia Cassia died long before she was born.

Maybe she was just nervous. That was it—she was anxious and lashing out. She didn't hate Alestra. Who hated Alestra? Everyone loved her. They had to, or they'd wake up in a gulag somewhere on the other side of the world.

The hall where she was led was large and empty, all quartz and marble carved into intricate designs, entwined with precious gems and metals to create priceless artwork. At the very end was the coat of arms of house Cipher, a white shield with silver charges of plasmids and ancient, spiky trefoil runes. A silver chief topped the shield; Aleskynn said it stood for "domination of will," but Carina assumed she was just making things up. She did that a lot. The Imperial tiara that Acidalia had been crowned with stood atop the shield as a coronet, and the helmet from the uniform of a high-ranking TB-branch soldier made a helm. In a messy script, taken from the writings of Katherine herself, read "Igne natura renovatur integra," the motto of the royal house. Through fire, nature is reborn whole.

Carina's thoughts were abruptly pulled back to Alestra screaming that motto in her most recent propaganda series as she brandished an oddly elegant automatic weapon. She shoved the thought deep down back in her brain, where it belonged, and continued walking.

They turned a corner, and the Ministratoras stopped, their double helix insignias glimmering under the harsh white light. The corridor was entirely empty for a moment, then a small, pale figure bounded out of the shadows.

"Hey," Aleskynn said. "Wanna hang out?"

A burst of anger flashed through Carina's mind. "That's why I'm here? You just got bored?!"

Aleskynn blew a bubble of gum, then popped it. It stuck to her shiny pink lips. "Um, yeah?"

Carina sighed. "Leski, I have a job. I can't just randomly disappear, I won't get paid. And I kind of need that money. I have to pay rent."

"Rent on what?"

"My apartment," Carina said, knowing the concept of rent was as foreign to Aleskynn as aliens from outer space. She had probably heard vaguely of the idea, but she had no reason to dwell on it; that was everyone else's job. "And train tickets cost money, and so does food and clothing, and I have to bring my own PPE," Carina continued.

"Never mind, I'm sorry I asked. This conversation is boring me," Aleskynn snapped. She turned to the Ministratoras and dismissed them with an irritated "you can leave now."

Carina took a deep breath and resigned herself to a very long, wasted afternoon.

Aleskynn set off down the hallway, her clear plastic court shoes clacking loudly on the pristine marble floor. "Anyway, Velia, Hera, Amelyx, and Raveri are all busy, and all my other ladies in waiting are so boring. I mean, you aren't exactly exciting, either, but like, you don't have a clue about makeup or hair, clearly, and I am so sick of hearing about that."

"Thanks," Carina said, knowing Aleskynn wasn't listening well enough to pick up on the sarcasm.

"Anyway," she continued. "I'm about to literally lose my mind, like actually, because people just won't shut the hell up about my bastard sister, which is total bullshit because it's not even her throne, it's mine. I mean, I guess technically not… but that's a technicality, which basically means it's not even real. With every other monarchy in history, the oldest legitimate kid gets primogenitum, right?"

"I'm pretty sure most historical monarchies gave primogenitum to the eldest son," Carina said.

"Well, I don't have a brother," Aleskynn shrugged, "or at least, not a legitimate one. Besides, most historical monarchies only gave stuff to men 'cause they didn't have the military prowess we have. If the men are off ruling the country, how can they be fighting a war, right?"

"Right." Carina decided it was probably best not to mention that the people who led the country were generally the same people who led the military campaigns. Aleskynn had probably never even laid her precious gaze upon something as uncouth as a set of fatigues.

"My point is that all of this is totally unfair," Aleskynn whined, kicking at a flowerpot that held strange, bright, fluorescent roses. It cracked when it hit the ground, sending a spray of dirt and neon fluid into the air. "That throne should belong to me."

"What would you even do if you had the throne?" Carina asked. "A, you're not twenty yet, so you'd be led by your mother acting as regent anyway. And B, you hate responsibility. Why do you want it that badly?"

"For starters, my mom is co-empress anyway, that's how it works. Rule of two." She rolled her eyes like it should have been obvious. "A mix of new and old blood, the splitting of power, a backup for the empress—it's in the rule book. Who cares if she's acting regent or co-Imperatrix? It's pretty much the same, and she lets me do basically whatever anyway. As far as responsibility goes, isn't that what advisors and ladies in waiting are for?"

"Sure, but you'd still have to be a figurehead—"

"I can do that. I'm gorgeous." She batted her eyelashes, smiling. Her bright pink lip gloss glistened under the buzzing white lights.

"Yeah," Carina sighed. "You'd be good at that."

"Much better than Acidalia," Aleskynn added, rolling her eyes again. "I don't get what's so damn special about her. Whatever. When she dies I'll have her throne anyway, and then the working class can lick my boots and fawn over how 'relatable' and 'special' and 'interesting' and 'unique' I am, too. As if their opinion even matters."

"What, does the working class really like her or something? I'm sorry, I don't keep up very well with politics." Truth be told, it wasn't really that Carina didn't keep up with politics—it was more that Alestra's regime was notoriously difficult to get any information on, and most of the news reports were inferences pieced together by bored gossip columnists who cared more about whether Alestra was wearing silver or white gold than about her actual policies. If they did report on anything political, discerning what was true and what was a result of a biased agenda was tough, sometimes impossible. Alestra liked it that way, so nobody had ever bothered to tighten the restrictions on what could be considered 'news.'

"Yeah, all the Cantatores and Laborum just love her. It fits, I guess. She really is one of them." Aleskynn made a disgusted face. "Can you imagine? A half-bred bastard on the throne? I can't wait until someone assassinates her. Like, I'm legit counting down the minutes."

"Why, is something going to happen?" Alarms suddenly flashed through Carina's mind. She didn't know Acidalia very well, but if she was at all better than Alestra, Carina didn't particularly want her dead.

Aleskynn snorted. "Trust me. It's not a matter of if it'll happen, it's when. Everyone in the court thinks she's making a mockery out of house Cipher, which honestly, she is, and our mother hates her guts." Carina probably should have found it difficult to fathom hating one's own child, but if there was anyone who could say they wanted to murder their own daughter and be taken seriously, it was Alestra Cipher. She almost shuddered, picturing her icy blue eyes staring down the body of a long-range laser pistol, her white gown stained with blood like a demented Osiria rose. It was an image that was all too easy to envision—they'd put up similar pictures as propaganda more than once, whenever some new plot was uncovered or some politician said something stupid that offended the Cipher matriarch.

"I wish it'd just happen already," Aleskynn continued to whine, playing with a curl that had fallen out of her updo. "Everyone just keeps talking about it. And it's like, why the hell do you keep complaining about Acidalia? Can we just shoot her in the face and be done with this whole ridiculous thing? It's my first year as a teenager and it's like nobody even cares because stupid Acidalia is being crowned. You know what my mother said to me yesterday?"

"What?" Carina asked, not entirely wanting to know the answer.

"So I saw this girl on TV," Aleskynn began, "and she just had an amazing voice. Like, just amazing. She was so good. And everyone paid attention to her—what did they call her, an idol? So I decided, I want to be an idol."

"Like, an idol singer? But you don't sing."

"Exactly! So I told my mother to get me a singing career, since clearly I can't hold one on my own," Aleskynn said. "You know, she has so many friends who have ties to the music industry. They could make me a superstar literally overnight, and I would barely even need vocal cord surgery or voice-enhancing sound effects. Hell, I bet I wouldn't even have to sing. They'd just have someone do it for me. But you know what she said?"

"What'd she say?"

"'Not now, Leski.' That's what she said!" Aleskynn stomped her foot. "Isn't that such bullshit?!"

Carina thought momentarily, god, I wish I lived in your world. The idea that one could become a pop sensation in one day with zero talent just because their family knew someone was entrancing. This world of giant palaces and fifty-car garages and family trees stretching back to the early 2000s seemed as glamorous as life could get. Then she remembered that, according to Aleskynn, people were already conspiring to assassinate Acidalia because her mere existence annoyed them, and then being a middle-class astrophysicist didn't seem quite as bad.

"And this isn't even the first time," Aleskynn continued. "You know how many times someone's told me to 'wait' because they were busy preparing for Acidalia's coronation? Those preparations took months, and it was all for a ceremony that was over in one day, for a woman whose reign will be over in one week!"

"A week?" Carina asked.

Aleskynn scoffed. "If she's lucky." Her voice dropped to a low whisper. "Listen, I'm not really supposed to tell you this, but house Generalis thinks she'll be dead two days from now. And Raveri's mom says if house Generalis doesn't do it, house Vulgaris will put a knife through her chest by the day after. When I say nobody likes her, I mean it."

Carina's mouth went dry. "What?"

"Shhh! You don't want her to hear. She could be around literally any corner!" Aleskynn pulled Carina away from the nearest doorway. "But yeah. Did you really think people would stand for this? They don't want some Martian-born whore wearing the crown. They'll just kill her and put the blame on someone else, just like they put the blame on that AX soldier."

"They can't just—"

"Oh, they absolutely can." Aleskynn smiled. "And wait until you see the celebration when it happens. You thought the coronation was big?"

"But… I don't understand." As much as Eleutherian nobility disliked Martians, especially half-Martians, and as reluctant as they were to break the precedent of war heroes' daughters inheriting the throne, she couldn't envision a world in which nearly everyone was willing to risk the empire's stability by assassinating the Imperatrix. Even if they didn't like or agree with her, there were ways to pull strings to get leaders to do what you wanted—there had to be.

Why would every noble house suddenly decide that Acidalia Cipher must die?

Carina racked her mind for reasons why people would hate Acidalia as much as they did. She was Martian, she was illegitimate, and she didn't get along with Alestra, which were all important factors. But were they important enough to warrant this type of response? The noble houses had never done anything so coordinated together. Under any normal circumstances, house Vulgaris would sell out house Generalis immediately so they could get brownie points from the Imperatrix. Never before had they worked as one like this.

But there was one reason Carina could think of, something more political than mere genetic differences and complicated mother-daughter relationships.

"Is Acidalia with the Nova?" she whispered, knowing full well that if she was overheard asking that question, she could be legally shot dead on the spot.

Aleskynn's eyes glowed blue, like she knew something she wasn't supposed to and was taking great pleasure in the fact that she was breaking the rules. "Wanna hear a secret?" Carina felt like screaming is this a game to you?!, but she already knew the answer was yes. Everything was a game to Aleskynn; she had the money, power, and popularity at court to get away with anything.

"Acidalia's not with the Nova," Aleskynn said slowly, like a movie character in a melodramatic film attempting to build anticipation. "And that's the problem."

"Wait." Something clicked in Carina's mind. "So everyone else—"

Aleskynn nodded. "Yeah. So of course they want her dead. Can you blame them?" She said it like she was talking about something stupid, something trivial, like a sports rivalry or a fandom war, not a political terrorist group infiltrating the top layers of the government and trying to kill the Imperatrix not because of her policies but because of her breeding.

Horrified, Carina flinched away. "That's…"

"Exciting, isn't it?" Aleskynn finished for her, like she was unable to see the situation from the perspective of anyone else. "Two days, and the throne will be mine in all but name. Seven years, and I'll have my own coronation. Won't it be awesome getting to tell people you're friends with the Imperatrix?" She took Carina's hand and pulled her over to a bridge, a pearlescent, ornate connection between two absolutely massive palace columns. Above them was the swirling, artificial nighttime sky, filled with nebulae and constellations that didn't really exist, like a careless child had dumped glitter on the starscape. "All this is gonna be mine," Aleskynn said, pointing up at it. "And Acidalia can rot in hell, for all I care."

"Should—should you be telling me this?" Carina asked, not knowing what to say, hoping Aleskynn couldn't feel how clammy her palms were.

She shrugged. "It's not like you have any other friends to tell it to. Besides, my mother would kill you if you let the cat out of the bag. And listen, I didn't initially want to ask you this because I'm a Cipher and you're caste Scientia and I don't want it to get weird, but—" She trailed off awkwardly, which wasn't a very Aleskynn thing to do. Carina wondered if she'd done it intentionally, to garner more attention, but she didn't seem like she was smart enough to be that manipulative.

Aleskynn swallowed. "You know, I don't know a whole lot about the Nova. But, uh… they don't like the lower castes very much. And it's not like they'd want to kill you or anything, but they'd make sure you and I could never, ever talk to each other again. But I kinda don't want that to happen, since you're the only person who actually listens to me when I complain instead of telling me to be less shallow or just shamelessly parroting whatever I say in the hopes of gaining favor with my mom."

Carina wished she could have said well, maybe you should be less shallow, but the compliment—or at least the admission of friendship—was weirdly nice, especially coming from Aleskynn Cipher, so she decided not to.

"So," Aleskynn continued, "I was maybe gonna… make you an advisor. Sorta. That wouldn't technically boost your caste, since you were born with it, but I was thinking we could maybe just not tell people?"

"You would lie about my heritage to protect me?" Carina asked. Even though it came with virtually no consequences whatsoever for Aleskynn herself, it didn't have any immediate monetary benefit, either, which was more than what could be said for most of her actions.

"Only because you're friends with me," Aleskynn added quickly, "and only cause I feel kinda bad for you." But the reasoning behind it didn't really matter, did it? Carina could be a royal advisor. She had absolutely no idea what that entailed, but according to Aleskynn's other friends, being a noblewoman wasn't a lot of responsibility; it seemed to mostly involve sitting around in between lessons on everything from psychology to ballet, accompanying the princess on fancy overseas trips, and attending the theatre and the cinema to watch elaborate productions of plays or premiere screenings of movies.

She could envision herself and Aleskynn, sitting together in the best seats in the house, watching the world's best actors and singers preform some classical show like Oedipus Rex or Macbeth or Hamilton. She could see herself amongst throngs of women in white and gold, surrounded by waiters in tuxedos who would bring them anything if they only asked, and this time she wouldn't be an unwelcome intrusion in the world of the rich and famous, but a personal friend of the Imperatrix Ceasarina. She could be paid in millions or billions of credits; it would barely put a dent in the Ciphers' quadrillion-credit fortune. Aleskynn could make or break her entire future if she so desired—and right now she was offering to make it.

But if Carina was to be a noblewoman, she had to keep a secret. And if she didn't tell anyone that Acidalia was about to be assassinated—no, murdered, she was about to be murdered, assassination wasn't emotional enough a word—then an innocent woman would die. What would be the consequences of the only non-Novagenetica member of the court getting killed before her time?

Alestra would be on the throne for the next seven years, not as co-empress with anyone, but exclusively the Imperatrix. There were no checks and balances, no rule of two, under that system. And as nice as Aleskynn's offer was, Carina knew that there was no way the young princess could ever be half the politician her mother and her sister were without a lot of growing up. Eleutheria would be lead by a dictator and an incompetent teenager, and if that weren't bad enough on its own, Alestra was part of a group of genocidal maniacs who wanted half the planet dead or more subjugated than they already were.

"You look nervous," Aleskynn said, knitting her eyebrows.

"No, no!" Carina actually laughed, praying that Aleskynn couldn't tell it was borne not from excitement but from hysteria. "No, I just… wow. Wow, that's a lot to, um—" "I know." She grinned smugly, relishing the power she had.

Carina knew there was no way she could keep this secret to herself—not in good conscience, at least. But who would she tell? It wasn't like she could just march up to the Magistratum and report a homicide threat when the perpetrator was the leader of their entire civilization. And anyone she told would be incriminated, too—even knowing certain information was enough to get somebody killed, or worse, erased from existence entirely.

Aleskynn had no idea what she'd just unleashed by telling this to Carina—not the internal battle that was raging in her mind, nor the consequences that would happen when she inevitably let it slip, because intentionally or not, someone would find out. And when that happened…

Carina gripped the railing of the bridge tightly to steady herself. She could just yes Aleskynn to death and accept the fact that there was nothing she could do; then she'd be a noblewoman, a royal advisor, more or less welcome in the court of a slightly more familiar Imperatrix. But that would mean a lifetime of regret and an ever-present fear of Alestra. The promise of luxury came with a steep, steep price. And even if everything went to plan, if Alestra turned out to be not that bad—which was doubtful—and Aleskynn became semi-competent, Carina would still have to abandon her lab, her work, her colleagues, Athena.

Oh stars almighty, Athena. She had the sudden realization that Athena wouldn't last five minutes under a stricter, tighter, uncontrolled regime with Alestra at the helm. Modern Eleutheria was bad enough, but there was no way to keep tabs on all fifteen billion citizens, so a lot of what she did could fly under the radar. But if Alestra was willing to murder her own daughter in cold blood and join a terrorist group that wanted the lower castes dead, she'd also be willing to kill any opposition. And Athena would oppose her until the day one of them died, not because she had any real reason to, but just because Athena was just like that.

Either Carina could be a terrified royal advisor permanently stuck under Alestra's watchful eye, or she could tell somebody and pray for the best. Neither option was desirable, but one was slightly less awful than the other.

Carina took a deep breath. She knew what she had to do.