#i might as well publish it here on the off chance any one would care to read it

[sourbinnie]

☆ regrets & replacements ☆ (2)

♡ genre ¿? ♡ -> angst with a hopeful ending ♡ pair ¿? ♡ -> maknae line!skz x gn!reader ♡ plot ¿? ♡ -> it's not about making up, it's about owning up to your mistakes. ♡ warnings ¿? ♡ -> swearing ♡ request ¿? ♡ -> yes!

a/n -> like i said in the hyung line ending this ain't a happy or a sad ending, this is more of a mix of both and i would say it's more neutral. i really feel like i didn't nail it but i'm gonna publish it anyways because i don't know if i can write it any other way. thank you for following this scenario! it means a lot to me the love that this one got in particular.

first part -> maknae line

jisung ✉

as you got home you were faced with a lot of doubt in your mind. why didn't you tell him that it was your birthday? why didn't he remember? were you just that forgettable? did he just care more about soohee than you? was it always going to be like this? it hurt, it really did. i mean you knew jisung had a tendency to forget everything but it felt like that didn't happen when it came to soohee.

minho was blowing up your phone but you couldn't seem to pick it up. you weren't ready to talk about anything at the moment, you just wanted to cry and that you did. it was as if the tears wouldn't stop falling from your eyes as you thought that maybe this would be the end. you just never seemed to be the priority and when you saw the door opening you weren't surprised but still felt like wanting to be alone.

"baby, baby, baby! i'm so fucking sorry. i cancelled everything that i was gonna do and i'm here now." jisung rambled as he was going around your apartment but you didn't move. you couldn't look at him because you weren't sure of what to say and you felt like you couldn't talk without breaking down and crying in front of him. jisung noticed and felt like crying himself as he took in everything. "(y/n) i'll make it right, i know i was an idiot and forgot but i need another chance."

"it's not about forgetting sung." you said which caught him off guard. this was more serious wasn't it? he was in deep trouble, he could sense it and it was scaring the living hell out of him. "you put her first again, you always do this. i just wanna feel like your partner but i sometimes feel as if she was dating you and not me."

"don't fucking say that. i only want you and she's just a friend, well was a friend because i don't want her in my life if she doesn't like you." he explained and you never wanted this. even if it hurt that she didn't like you, you never wanted to be the type of significant other that would dictate who your boyfriend could and couldn't hang out with. "i care about you, it's only you i want at the end of the day."

"i think i need some time, baby. we're not over but i just don't know how to feel right now." you said and he nodded as he heard your words. he wanted for you to be okay and that was his priority right now, nothing else. 

"can i at least take you out for your birthday? i know minho planned something." he said as he removed the tears from your cheeks. you gave him a little smile because he was about to cry at any moment too and couldn't resist hugging him. "i'm such a cry baby when it comes to you."

"i know, i love you like this though." you mumbled and let him sob in your arms for a while as you held him. you knew in the end though that things would be okay if you worked them out together.

felix ✉

looking at the clock in the kitchen was the way you were spending your time. your birthday was almost over and there was still no felix in sight. you sighed to yourself, there were no more tears to fall, it was just you and your numbness against the world. you didn't go out and celebrate, you didn't buy a cake or a present to yourself because there was no point if you felt completely destroyed.

to others it might seem a little too much but to you it was a big deal. you wanted to talk to someone about how you felt and how it was taking a toll on you mentally but when you looked at your phone and saw that background of felix smiling and holding you close, you had to shut it off again.

"(y/n)? can you please open the door? i forgot the key." his voice said through the other side and this was beyond what you wanted. you couldn't have this conversation right now but you knew you would have to because you couldn't avoid it forever. you opened the door to be met by a very distraught looking felix, his hair was messy and he was panting like he ran a marathon all the way to your house. his eyes were glassy as he looked at you and you just let him in.

"lix i would never ask this in other circumstances but why are you here?" you asked in a low tone and it hurt felix so much to see you this way. his usually bright and sparkled eyed partner was looking down and not being able to hold their gaze to meet him. your voice sounded broken like you've been crying for hours and it was all his fault. he wouldn't blame you if you didn't forgive him this time.

"i-i had to see you. i know how much i fucked up this time and i know how you feel about her, how you've always felt and i took it for granted." he said and the more you heard the more it hurt. "but i care way more about having you than maintaining a toxic friendship with someone who didn't respect my partner and i know it might be too late, i'm sorry (y/n). not only did i miss your birthday, i missed getting to see you smile, i missed getting you the presents, i missed going out with you and the people who actually care about me and i'm so deeply sorry."

it was as if he was losing himself as he spoke, you couldn't stand seeing that. it was going to be hard getting through this and being able to be okay with felix again. this was not about getting a present or remembering a date on a calendar, it was about trust and you knew that even after all, you trusted felix with your whole life.

"lix i love you, i really do. i feel like it's all too much right now and i just wanna go to sleep but i would love to try again tomorrow. maybe take me out and we can talk?" you offered as you got close to him, grabbing his cold hands and seeing him nod. "slow steps for now baby but i know we'll get through it."

"slow steps." he repeated and looked at you, finally eye to eye. he gave you a warm smile that you adored so much and then leaned in to kiss your cheek. it never failed to make you smile as well and that's all you needed as the clock struck midnight.

seungmin ✉

waking up all alone today felt dreadful. the excitement from yesterday was all gone when you remembered how you decided to spend your birthday and as you checked your phone and there was still no sign from seungmin, you gave up. you were going to try to continue with your day and not think about your boyfriend, soohee or anything negative that could ruin your mood immediately. but when you looked at your phone again, you had almost a spam level of messages from jeongin telling you to come over.

you knew what this was about (or you hoped). a certain part of you wanted to stay away from the dorms and not think about seeing seungmin but the other part that was louder knew you had to go and give him a chance to speak. you put on your shoes and grabbed your things to head to the dorms as you thought of the conversation you were about to have with your boyfriend.

he was waiting impatiently for you to arrive and when you did, jeongin opened the door and greeted you with a hug. it broke his heart when you didn't greet him the same way or with a kiss but he knew he deserved it after all that happened yesterday. you were both standing there, waiting for the other to speak and it was really heavy on his chest the fact that it didn't feel natural like it always has.

"okay why did you make me come here? even though you didn't text, it was jeongin who did." you said breaking the silence and he felt like a coward, everything was building itself up to be the last time you two ever meet didn't it? it was killing him. he couldn't lose you, no he wouldn't lose you.

"i knew that if i texted you, you would've ignored me. that's what i felt was going to happen." he explained and he was kind of right but you still wanted him to tell you something, hearing nothing from him made you doubt everything even more. "i feel like the biggest idiot on the planet right now. not only i didn't spend your birthday with you, i just simply disappeared and i couldn't even send a message."

"well i'm glad you're realizing this now but i just wanna know seungmin if you care about this relationship. i know it might sound like i'm exaggerating but i feel so hurt by what happened that it makes me just doubt everything. i want to be with you but do you want to be with me?" you asked and seungmin wasn't one to cry at all but this ticked all the boxes to making him feel like the worst boyfriend ever. 

"i want to be with you forever (y/n). there's no one else for me and i know you're asking because of soohee. she doesn't mean anything to me like that and if you want me to cut off ties with her, i will." he said confidently even if he felt the tears building up which he wiped them away immediately. you had never seen him cry and he didn't want to look weak or like he didn't mean the things he was saying in front of you. this image of seungmin showing his emotions was new to you but it felt real and honest.

"i don't want you to do anything because i told you to or you feel like it would make me feel better, you know? i just want you to be happy minnie. i was devastated with what happened yesterday and i can't say that forgiving you is gonna be easy." you explained and he felt a sob coming through because you were just so fucking caring and he couldn't even process why you were giving him a second chance. he caught the distance by hugging you because he couldn't take the coldness anymore, he wanted to feel you close and as you held him, you knew you couldn't be far away from him either.

"i know today is not your birthday but i'll make you remember everything about this day like it was if you let me baby." he muttered in your arms and you didn't have to say anything because you trusted his word. you weren't even thinking about your birthday, just how you and him fit like puzzle pieces when you held each other like that.

jeongin ✉

as you got home, you dropped all your things on your couch and noticed immediately that jeongin's things were already there. so you weren't gonna be able to avoid him after all you thought because right now all you wanted was to go to sleep and absolutely forget about everything that you went through tonight. just thinking about the fact that your boyfriend was with someone else when he planned the reservation and also the fact that she picked up his phone for him was unforgivable.

you could hear the key at the door and then faced that way to see your boyfriend standing there with so many things that your first instinct was to help him out. you hated yourself for being so nice sometimes but it was impossible not to be kind to jeongin even if he was on thin ice right now. he looked at you and could see the mad expression you were giving him, of course he deserved it.

"(y/n)? you probably hate to see me here but we need to talk." he said and you didn't respond because you felt like crying all over again just seeing him there. you put the cake that he bought in the kitchen and the presents on the coffee table, not even glancing at them because you couldn't care less about rushed last minute gifts that went no thought into them. "please, i know you hate me right now but i can't stand us being distant to each other and not hearing your voice."

"jeongin." you said and it went through him like a knife because he wasn't used to his full name. he looked at you and saw the tears that he feared so much, he promised you so many times he wouldn't be the cause of them and here you were. "i don't even know what to say. you forgot yeah, i can't get past that and i wouldn't be so mad if you weren't hanging out with someone who hates me in every way and you let her pick up your phone! it just feels like she's more your partner than i am sometimes."

"no, not at all. i won't ever be with her and i don't want to be with her." he said looking at you and getting closer, you didn't take a step back because even if you were fuming you just wanted to be held by him. "you're the only one for me and that won't ever change even if tonight i let you down, even if you make me leave right now, i won't want anyone that's not you." 

"you just made me feel so humiliated there all alone." you said and he nodded trying to not make the mental image of you waiting for him in the restaurant but he failed to because that's all he could think about when he was coming to your apartment. "i don't know if we'll able to fix this."

"i want you. scratch that, i need you (y/n)." he begged and you knew that you needed him too. his tears were falling softly but you wiped them off because seeing him upset was a sight that drove you insane. it was a mix of emotions for you and for him right now, a roller coaster that didn't stop. he couldn't stop looking at you, he needed a sign that this could be fixed and that you would be alright but he couldn't find any.

"give me some time to think yeah? i promise nothing bad is gonna happen and i just need it to process everything." you said and it was finally settled. he was desperate to make this right again and he would but he needed to respect your decision and that's what he would do.

"can i kiss you?" he asked and you were hesitant but still nodded. his hand on your cheek as he leaned in closer to seal the end of the day with a little kiss, nothing too passionate but it was just right for that moment as he pulled away. you looked at him and hoped everything would turn out right in the end but with jeongin holding you, there were no more doubts in your mind.

[littlelovelyra]

Now is not the time, nor the place.

Gale x FemTav/Reader(f)

Word count: ~1,914

Warnings: fluff(?) , Fingering, hand jobs, mouth stuff, kinda? C*m shot?

MINORS DNI

Disclaimer: I literally always put a disclaimer that I am by no means a writer, I just day dream a lot to escape my hectic work days and my somewhat chaotic life so I write down my day dreams and revisit them sometimes. Decided to publish them here so its easy for me to find. If it at least entertain one person thats a win for me :'D

Summary:

Having arrived at Last Light Inn several hours ago, your party convened and, following a discussion with Jaheira, reached a consensus to divide the patrol duties to ease the burden. Prior to this decision, after battling Kar'Niss,Gale openly confessed his physical attraction toward you only to immediately extinguish any flame that thought may have produced. Now, as chance would have it, both of you find yourselves on duty, strolling along the docks of Last Light Inn, having determined your partners through a draw of names. Suspicious. 

___________________________

“Now’s not the time nor place.” What. The. Fuck. Gale. Why even bother saying it at all? You curse the foolish wizard in your mind, focusing on the two small pouches placed in the middle of the table where you and your companions are seated, trying not to shoot daggers in his direction. You can feel his side glances as he looks at you.

“Well, as much as I love us sitting around and staring at one another—because who wouldn’t want to stare at me—who’s going to be the first to draw a name?” Astarion looks around the table, taking us all in. We’re all looking pretty tired, and no one wants to take the leap, fearing they might draw “first watch” from the second pouch after selecting their partner from the first.

“Oh gods above, fine, I’ll do it.” Astarion reaches his hand into the first pouch, retrieves a name, and then dips his hand into the second, pulling out a small piece of parchment. He clears his throat. “Well, Shadowheart, I guess you and I are taking tomorrow’s watch,” he says as a slow smirk spreads across his face. Lucky bastard, you think to yourself. As everyone else gathers the courage to draw, the order goes as follows:

Astarion / Shadowheart: Second Night

Karlach / Wyll: Third Night

Lae’Zel / Halsin: Fourth Night

You curse under your breath at the absolute joke that is your luck right now. Though, you feel luck might not have anything to do with it. You suspect Gale has somehow played his magic hand in this. You can practically feel his smugness vibrating across the table from you. As much as you care for him, these past few weeks have been confusing. From his reaction to the moment you shared in the Weave, to his dismissal at the tiefling party when you sought him out. He told you to go “enjoy the festivities,” which led you to a pretty little clearing with a vampire spawn—an experience you note never to repeat. Then, just before entering the Shadow-Cursed Lands, he received his charge from Mystra and accepted it without considering anyone else. To top it all off, he basically admitted his attraction to you and immediately shot it down. All this hot and cold behaviour has been giving you more headaches than the damn tadpole in your head. 

Releasing a soft sigh, you push yourself back from the table and stand up, eventually meeting his gaze. “Come on, Gale, we’re up first. Jaheira has assigned us to the dockside for our patrol.” You keep your tone cool and matter-of-fact. You will not make a fool of yourself chasing someone who clearly does not want to be chased. With all the chaos of dealing with the cultists, you have no time or energy for these petty games of the heart. He either wants you or he doesn’t, and it seems it’s the latter.

Gale follows you as you walk towards your quarters. As you reach your door, you look back at him. “Wait here, I need to change. These clothes are disgusting after killing that drider. I won’t be long. Maybe you should change too—it’s going to be a long night. Meet me back here in ten minutes.” Pressing your lips together awkwardly, you watch him hold your stare for a moment before giving a slight nod. He turns on his heel and heads toward the shared quarters. You’re grateful that your companions graciously agreed to give you the only private room in the Last Light Inn; gods know you need a bit of privacy to collect your thoughts.

In your room, you quickly change out of your clothes, wipe yourself down with a washcloth, redress, and braid your hair back. Looking in the mirror, you can see how tired you are from the journey. Closing your eyes, you mutter a short prayer to Selûne for the strength to get through the evening. A soft knock at the door catches your attention, and you cross the room to open it. Gale stands there with a fresh set of clothes, his hair now tamed, and even a bit of his beard trimmed. His eyes are as bright as ever, always seeming deep in thought, making you wonder what’s going on in his mind. “Stop it”, you think to yourself, “Now is not the time.”

You usher him out of the doorway and lead the way outside, down to the docks. You notice how close he is walking next to you, the silence is loud but every now and then his hand accidentally brushes up against yours and sends a soft shiver running up your arm. Again you wonder if he is using any magic to conjure up that effect on you. 

Walking to the edge of the dock, you scan the perimeter. Everything is quiet; it all seems as it should. You lean over the railing and glance at your reflection in the water, exhaling loudly. You stay there for a moment with your eyes shut, taking in the sounds of the flames softly flickering on the nearby torches and the occasional gentle splash of the water. It’s the most peaceful you’ve felt in a long time.

“Lost in thought?” Gale says as he places himself next to you, leaning down with his arms supporting him on the railing. You turn your head to face him and notice that his face is mere inches from yours. You linger there for a moment, your eyes scanning his face and finally your gaze falls to his lips, you wonder how they would feel pressed against yours. He catches your stare and the left side of his mouth pulls up into a soft smirk.

“Actually, I’m not thinking at all.” You say pushing yourself up you ready yourself to leave this side of the dock and continue your sweep of the area. As you turn to leave, Gale grabs your hand. You turn to him puzzled.

“Let’s stay a moment longer, shall we? It’s quiet, and nothing will happen if we take a few selfish moments for ourselves.” His thumb traces lazy circles on the back of your hand, releasing a flurry of butterflies in your stomach. You watch his gentle movements, marvelling at how hands so powerful can also be so tender. Your thoughts drift to how those very same hands might feel exploring your body, familiarising themselves with your secret places while bringing you to complete ecstasy. Your cheeks begin to flush at the mental image you have painted for yourself and it hasn’t gone unnoticed by him as he offers a soft clearing of his throat to pull your attention back to reality. 

“I meant every word I said, by the way.” He looks at you, expecting a response, but you're unsure what to say. Words elude you, so you remain silent, hoping he'll continue—and he does, simply because he’s Gale.

“I have never wanted you more than I do now. Seeing your cheeks flush just then only made my desire that much more uncontrollable. I keep waiting for the right moment to kiss you, to show you how much I want you. It has to be perfect—you deserve that. But perhaps, just for tonight, we can allow ourselves a bit of imperfection. Or an appetiser before the main course, if you will.”

He raises his hand and gently lifts your face towards his. Slowly, he lowers his lips to yours, tenderly moulding them to fit around yours. A soft whimper escapes your mouth, and you feel your knees shake as if they're about to give way to this moment. Sensing your thoughts, Gale places his other hand on your hip, steadying you and pulling you closer to him. Everything around you seems to disappear, and all that exists in this moment are the two of you, completely lost in each other's embrace.

As he starts to pull away, he leads you to the covered area of the dock—more private, secluded—and you see the intent in his stare. Slow he brings the two of you down onto the deck, gently he lowers you to your back while he positions himself above you. His lips come crashing down to yours once again but this time with urgency. He uses his free hand to roam its way under your clothes exploring your soft curves and taking his time familiarising himself with the shape of you. He delicately rubs the pad of his thumb over your peaked sensitive nipple which causes you to gasp at the sensation, heat pooling in your core. You shift your hips up towards him instinctively and he groans into your mouth while your tongues dance together. His hand slithering down, snaking its way to your heated centre. Slipping under your panties his fingers slide between your folds, you inhale sharply at the sensation. Gods above nothing in your fantasies even compare to what this feels like in real time. Gale lets out a low groan. “Mhm. You are so ready for me my love. I want that to be perfect so this will just have to do for now.” as he finishes his sentence he slides two of his fingers inside you and curls them upward. Slowly pumping them in and out while his kisses become frenzied.

Your hands go exploring on their own and you find him, hard and ready. You can feel it pulsing through his trousers. The growl that escapes his lips is inviting enough for you, reaching in as you pull his length out and begin stroking him tenderly at first and then more desperately as you feel him rocking his hips in time with your hand. His hand is still working inside you and the two of you become desperate as the pace picks up. You lift your shirt up exposing your breasts with your spare hand and he brings his head down as he sucks in the swollen peak of your breast. You can feel it, the two of you are so close. 

“Gale.. Gale.. I’m going to…” You're breathless now. You can’t get it out, your head is dizzying. 

He brings his mouth to your ear, his breath hot as he whispers;  “Let go. Cum for me”. 

That’s all it takes. Your whole body shatters around him as his name escapes your lips in pure unfiltered ecstasy. He comes undone seconds later, you feel a warm splash on your bare stomach and he brings his head down to rest his forehead on yours. Softly he kisses you again before you both straighten out your clothing and smooth your hair. Silently you sit there leaning into him on the deck looking out over the water. 

“I have a confession to make.” He says scattering kisses down your cheek.

“Mhmmm… Let me guess? You rigged the pouches somehow to be partnered with me tonight?” You say looking at him.

He flashes you a wicked smile and kisses you deeply as you both stand up to continue a sweep of the perimeter. You are on duty after all and now is not the time.. nor the place.

[literaticat]

With parents/guardians regulating  (I hate the word but I think it's accurate) what they want kids to have access to, it makes libraries and the poor librarians have to fall in line and carry what only certain parents 'approve of' (to the detriment of us all). And publishers and writers might not take chances on books they know might be banned or challenged. 

Sooo how much power/influence do publishers really have? I mean in society and pop culture, I guess. I feel like publishers are beholden to everyone no matter what side of the political spectrum you fall on. 

And that old adage 'if you try to please everyone you will please no one' is starting to really be the truth. The recent Scholastic fiasco comes to mind.

(so sorry in advance this turned into a lengthy rant that doesn't answer the question) (but then again, I am not even sure I get what the question part is, so OH WELL, strap in for some book ban talk!)

A very small minority of unhinged, ridiculous parents and horrific politicians are actually trying to ruin schools and libraries for everyone. I mean:

Louisiana has current legislation that would criminalize libraries joining the American Library Association. (ie, yes, a librarian could be ARRESTED AND SENTENCED TO TWO YEARS HARD LABOR what the actual fuck???)

Utah has a law that allows any district to pull any book that any other district has pulled

Florida "moms for liberty" (LOL - FU) are trying to have librarians arrested -- Again and again -- etc etc --

I could keep going but I actually have to work at my job THWARTING BOOK BANNERS today!

So just for what it's worth -- I don't think most librarians want to or are "falling in line" and bowing to these parents. Librarians, hopefully, want to make a library that has a collection of material that will best serve all their patrons. And it truly is a very small number of patrons that launch these bizarre campaigns against books.

They do have budgets though, which are also being slashed in many cases, and obviously if they know that their particular community leans toward a certain mindset, they might make choices that reflect that when curating their collection, sure. But yeah -- all the librarians I know are big fans of free speech and freedom to read, and are willing to go to bat for that -- that's why some places are going so far as to pass LITERAL LAWS against librarians, because short of that, librarians are tough to stop!

I would say, too -- Publishers are not trying to "avoid bans" (I mean they aren't ENCOURAGING them either obviously!) -- but in my experience, they simply don't think that way when deciding what to acquire. They can't, because the fact is, it doesn't MATTER what the book is about. A book doesn't have to have "scandalous content" for people to want to ban it -- PICTURE BOOKS are being taken off shelves -- books with themes like embracing your own beauty. Or making stew with neighbors. Lots of times books are challenged for pretty blatantly racist reasons -- no reason at all, actually, other than a BIPOC person wrote it so it must have "critical race theory" (???) in it. For reals.

(Also -- these "banners" / "moms for liberty" aren't READING the books. It is a few people using canned language that somebody else came up with to paper objections to books across districts where they don't even have children. I'd argue that whoever is pulling the strings here doesn't actually even care about ANY of this -- they are using some batshit people who have too much time on their hands to just heap school districts and public libraries with challenges about every last thing because they want it to become so difficult and annoying that the librarians and library boards just give up. They want all libraries and schools to be privatized. I dunno - follow the money.)

Ugh. Again -- this is probably not answering your question??? Sorry, and I really do have to stop typing now. I guess my point is :

Publishers are beholden, in some cases, to their shareholders -- but really, to readers at the end of the day -- most readers want freedom to read and the free exchange of ideas and freedom of speech, etc -- those are the people who pay for books -- so that's who publishers cater to.

Librarians are mostly pretty staunch advocates for free speech and freedom to read, and publishers are supporting them as well.

Writers hopefully, same!

(In the case of the "Scholastic Fiasco" -- Scholastic wasn't trying to bow to nasty parents, exactly -- they were trying to protect the educators who might get harassed, fired, or potentially arrested by those nasty parents. Unfortunately, as you say, it blew up, because you can't have it both ways, etc etc.)

I really do have to go now sorry I couldn't solve book banning this morning :-/

[bridgertonbabe]

Signing off.

I never really thought I'd ever write a post like this and to be perfectly honest I feel a bit cringe for even making a thing out of this but I felt it necessary to address those of you who follow me and my writings.

In the last month I have been suffering severely from anxiety, waking up to what feels like a ball of dread clutching at my heart and being unable to shift it for the better part of the day. It's all come to a head as of late because I've reached a crossroads in my life where I've realised just how unhappy and unfulfilled I am. Truth to be told I really don't have any aspect in my life that I am happy with and for years I've dismissed myself and my own desires for the sake of others to the point where I have no self worth, no self confidence, and I just feel like a shell of a person. Realising that I can't go on like this, that I can't live the life I aspire to without sorting my mental health out, I've taken the first steps in getting counselling and in going to the doctors to be put on anti-depressants.

While I'm already starting to feel better, I've decided it's in my best interests to take some other steps going ahead; which is I'm logging off this account.

Don't get me wrong, this account has brought me fulfillment in the last two and a half years and I've had so much fun interacting with so many of you but as of late I've become very disengaged with Bridgerton. It's one of several of my hyperfixations which I have become anxious with in the last few weeks, in part because they are what I used to immerse myself in as a means to distract myself from a dissatisfying existence, but now I've decided to make a change in my life for the better, everything that I once used to bury my head in the sand has now essentially given me the ick. Bridgerton is just now one of several things that I feel the need to distance myself from in order to fully focus and concentrate on bettering my mental health as well as getting what I want out of life.

As much as I've taken pride in writing because of Bridgerton, my dream has always to one day publish a book of my own and I need to refocus my energies on writing my own original stories to have the chance of maybe being able to make that dream a reality. I would have so dearly loved to have been able to complete a whole host of WIPs (would have also loved to have been able to just focus on one story at a time but c'est la vie) and I can only apologise to anyone who's been hoping for an update from any of them.

You will still be able to read all of my works on AO3 (plus I've restored a couple I had previously hidden from view), and I won't be deleting this tumblr so all of my drabbles and various posts will still be here for you to browse and read at your leisure.

Though I'm stepping away from this account, I don't necessarily know if this will be forever. I might well end up in a better place mentally at some point and return with a healthier state of mind where I can enjoy Bridgerton again, and I would never rule out contributing writings again - however as it stands, I don't want to promise anything and taking care of my mental health is my main priority for now and the foreseeable future.

I also just wanted to take the opportunity to thank every single person who has ever liked, reblogged, and interacted with me since I joined. I had never previously shared any of my creative writing online and thought it would be nice if even a single person somewhere vaguely liked anything I had to share - but over the last two and a half years I've been given such a boost from the amount of people who have reached out and commented on any one of my silly writings. I don't think you'll ever understand just how much it has meant to me and the love and appreciation will stay with me forever.

That about does it, so thank you all for everything. I wish you all a lifetime of health and happiness.

Signing off,

Shinnie

xxx

[vikenticomeshome]

Monster House (2006) had a tie-in graphic novel?

Yeah, it did. I only found out about it by chance when reading the wiki. It was done by IDW Publishing on June 14, 2006. This would have been roughly a month before the film had its theatrical release in the U.S. on July 21, 2006.

Before we start talking about the content, let's talk about the credits. The comic consists of two stories. I will print the credits exactly as they appear.

"Skull & Bones" Written by: Joshua Dysart Art by: Simeon Wilkins Colors by: Len O' Grady

"Honor Roll" Words and Art by: Simeon Wilkins Colors by: Len O' Grady

Edited by: Kris Oprisko Designed by: Neil Uyetake Lettered by: Tom B. Long

Now, of course, I cannot post the entire work here. Sure, the comic appears to have only been printed once in 2006. Sure, it is unlikely that it will ever be reprinted, as Monster House was a single film that told its complete story and never got any sequels or spin-offs. Sure, the only way to legitimately purchase a copy these days is to buy it second-hand. Still, I could get in trouble for posting it in full here.

However, you could try searching "Monster House Graphic Novel". You may find that someone has scanned and uploaded a copy that you can read for free. You might even feel inspired to make a Tumblr post sharing some of your favorite panels from that scan. Imagine that. https://archive.org/details/monster-house-graphic-novel

Anyway, before you go past the "read more". I recommend you obtain the graphic novel and read it for yourself to get the full experience.

The first story, "Skull & Bones", alternates between scenes that take place at the same time as the movie and scenes that took place 20 years earlier. Our protagonist for the evening in both timelines is "Bones". You remember him right?

We all remember the scene between him and Zee where he's messing with her, she gets sick of him, and she kicks him out. Mind you, the movie showed it from DJ's POV, who couldn't see much from behind the couch.

The comic lovingly recreates the scene from the front of the couch.

Comic made him more of an ugly sonuvabitch than the film did.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. Remember, he did have his back-story that he talked about during the film. Now, we get to see it.

One day, 20 years ago, long before his nose was quite so big, Bones was flying his kite. The kite's name was "Awesome Kite".

But then, it all goes wrong. Awesome lands on Mr. Nebbercracker's lawn. Bones knows well and good that Nebbercracker will steal his kite if he doesn't get it back quickly. Worse, he has to listen to Nebbercracker's marital problems.

Mr. Nebbercracker is calm and reasonable about the whole thing, just like in the film.

Back in the present-day, we have Skull and Bones showing that they care about making children happy, or maybe they are just desperate for a gig. Either way, they are playing a gig at the local children's hospital.

However, they parked in a hand-capped spot. Well, nobody's perfect.

Lester very nearly ends the story early, but our heroes are saved in the nick of time.

Oh look, its the little girl from the movie's intro. Why does her face look like that?

Okay, let's go back to just after Zee kneed him the stomach and sent him packing. We know that he went to take his anger out on Nebbercracker's house.

Our idiot hero is easily lured into the house by Awesome Kite, who is made to float in the doorway.

Then, he gets eaten.

He'll be fine though. Everyone remembers the ending of Monster House, right? We got a montage of all the characters who were eaten by the house climbing out of the ruins. The children in the audience were re-assured that the house never actually killed anyone.

Yeah, no, the comic confirms that Constance isn't the only skeleton in the basement. I spy a mail carrier, a door-to-door salesman or special agent from ACME, the milk man, someone who was just shoveling the sidewalk, and at least one dog. At least I don't see any child skeletons.

Still, our plucky hero continues his search-and-rescue operation. At last, he reaches Awesome Kite.

Before, he can reach it though, let's flash back to 20 years. While Bones is sulking over his kite, Zee is having a tea party. Lovely.

Look, I don't care about the monster house anymore. This scene of Zee obliterating the dolls with a damn weed-wacker is amazing.

Bones meets up with his friend Skull, and we get our musical number.

Afterwards, Skull and Bones go on their mission to retrieve Awesome. They don't have J.D's level of planning however. Lester, who would go on to become the skinny cop, discovers them.

I know I've been making fun of the story, but it does show us an important angle that we don't get in the movie.

We see Nebbercracker frustrated with Constance's actions, as well as all of the effort he puts into keeping Constance's true nature a secret.

I want to share one particularly impactful line.

"You keep saying you love me! But you don't know how to love!"

Then, he tries to leave.

And she doesn't let him leave.

No, he returns to stare into the fire.

Yeah, he kisses her on the Mantle. Bones and Skull don't understand how tragic this whole scene is.

And now, we're back to business as usual. Nebbercracker goes after the kids, and Constance looks ready to eat them herself.

And now we're back to present-day Bones and near the end of the movie. The house rips itself out of its foundation. While it hurries away, probably to go eat three kids, Skull is able to climb out to safety.

Skull, the twist villain of the comic, has stolen his girl.

Or, maybe she was just pretending to date Skull to make Bones jealous? Maybe they're a polycule now?

No matter what happened, it looks like Zee lost in the end. That's what she gets for breaking that plant pot and blaming it on DJ.

I managed to hit the image limit before I got to the second story. However, that one doesn't really have much to do with Monster House. "Final Roll" tells us that Skull and Bones play DnD. Its really just Bones walking away from the game after refusing to make a roll. Skull badgers him for weeks until he throws the die into Nebbercracker's lawn. I may make a second post with highlights from that story, but the first story was definitely the more important one to cover.

I'm glad that I got to read this comic. It was alot of fun. The original movie is a masterpiece in presenting such dark themes to children. And then, the graphic novel expanded upon it. We got to see that Nebbercracker was not always able to keep everyone safe from Constance. We got to see how much of a toll the whole unfair situation took on him. We got a peek at Bone's, Skull's, and Zee's childhoods. We got to see Zee destroy a bunch of plastic dolls with a damn weed whacker.

If you haven't read it, go read it. My post isn't going to be the same as reading the whole thing.

[ibrithir-was-here]

I'm kinda feeling like crap lately too so might not be the best person to give advice but here goes:

Our modern western life is really not conducive to mental or emotional health (or really any kind of health for that matter) so the unfortunate effect is that what should be a 'normal' state really takes so much work to achieve.

Social media, news, click baits - we are constantly under attack by things that harm us mentally, whether it's chasing that dopamine or overwhelmed by what is going on in the world or just the constant negativity we're surrounded by.

And then there's just the inescapable realities - a loved one is sick or our relationships are going through a rough patch... and sometimes we just don't have the support around us to weather even the minor things.

So here is my (sus) advice on how to cope:

However hard it is, however vulnerable it makes you feel, find someone you can open up to. I know that feeling of "I have nobody" but sometimes it's because we're too afraid of being annoying or driving someone away to be willing to truly open up, but I think most people *are* willing to listen to their friends and we're just too worried to give them that benefit.

Get off the internet. I know this is *hard* because so often we're turning to the internet to cope or find connections or talk with friends, but time away *is* so so so important. Even going into autumn (in the north anyway) it's good to just go outside, breathe in fresh air, listen to birds, just do something that gives our emotions a chance to settle down again.

If outside is truly not an option, then a quiet place - maybe beside a window, maybe put on 'nature sounds' in the background - and try your hand at meditation. I hate how much this actually can help because it feels like it should be a scam but it really can help the brain recover from some of the barrage we're getting.

Walking or any kind of mild exercise, the body and brain are inexorably linked, and doing good things for the body can truly help. One trick I've employed with myself is "If I were my own pet how would I treat me?" and then do your absolute best to be the best "you" owner ever. That means going for walkies, drinking water, eating well, getting plenty of sleep and affection.

Journaling can help get the thoughts and feelings out of your head.

But I think the best thing I can offer is no matter what it is, no matter how much it hurts, no matter how bad you feel... it *does* get better. The pain will ease in time, the brain can be taught that it's not always red alert time, for all the horror in the world the march of time is still moving toward better.

I just want you to know that you are seen and you are worth the effort it takes. Your life and happiness are worth the effort and I know there are people out there who would love to put forth that effort if they are given the chance.

I hope good things for you

(you don't have to publish this if you don't want, it's alright.)

Thank you 🥲💛💛💛 I'm actually tearing up at work here. These are all really good points, and a lot of what others have said to, and I really should be better at remembering them 😅

I'm gonna read over this again once I'm off work tonight and yeah, start trying to be more intentional with my self care. Thank you again 💛

[destinyc1020]

Amy wanted the script and promised Justin she would get Z to star in it, that got the ball rolling on Challengers and MGM signing on. Amy, Z and Justin decided on Luca as director. Before that the script was published for a while but no project green-lit. Without these steps there is a very good chance that movie wouldn't have been made at all, many spec scripts never make it to film. It's not like the role was offered to someone else. I'd like people to show me any script written specifically for a biracial woman - is she supposed to only do those? Most roles she has 'stolen' is from red-heads (MJ, Chani), Rue was made biracial instead of white and so on. Here and there it will inevitably happen that she could get a role originally intended for a black woman, it is inevitable. People need to get off their high horses and let her live and work. No other actress in the business is put through such morality and purity standards as Z is. No one gets this level of discourse each and every time one of her FEW projects gets announced. It is not sustainable and she is bound to disappoint some people along the way. If that makes someone dislike her so be it.

Thanks Anon for the clarification on the "Challengers" script. You might very well be right. Perhaps the film would have never been made if Amy hadn't promised Zendaya would star in it.

BTW, I'm sick of Amy promising stuff to people when it comes to Tom and Z's careers. I almost feel like she controls what they do or smthg. 😵‍💫

Can't they cut the umbilical cord by now?? 😩

Anyway, I'm not complaining too much, coz Momma Amy is keeping Tom and Zendaya employed when the times are slow lol 😆 😅

Re: Your last point...

I think Z gets so much scrutiny because Z herself is the one who's saying she wants to work with Black creatives! 😅 If she weren't continously saying that, most ppl wouldn't even be caring what she does. 🤷🏾‍♀️

But when fans keep hearing one thing, and seeing her do another, it does make some fans wonder!

[professorvonquack-57]

Walkürenzauber / The valkyrie is here to ride!

Created from an excerpt of „Das Orakel des Nordens“ („The Oracle Of The North“)

Original Plot: Paul Halas Original Skript: Jack Sutter Art: Daniel Branca

As an admirer of "the good artist" Carl Barks, I also estimate Daniel Branca's dynamic style. He is known for conceding a certain sex appeal to Magica. In his stories, she often appears in disguise (as a piratess, a film actress, a female hippie guru, etc.), in a somehow sexy way - as far as this is at all possible for a female duck in an official Disney story.

„Das Orakel des Nordens“ was published in Germany and in several other countries, but it seems to be never been officially translated into English. In this story Magica performs a sort of Viking valkyrie nightmare and later on she impersonates the oracle.

Well, the plot is pure antagonistic stuff around Scrooge’s and Magica’s obsession with the lucky dime. Scrooge is a guest in Donald’s home. In the evening, they all watch a TV documentary about the Vikings. It claims that they were believing to receive clues about the future from dreams. Outside the window, Magica overhears everything and instantly gets an idee how to snatch the lucky dime. As soon as Scrooge has fallen asleep alone in his bedroom, Magica transforms into a valkyrie and performs a martial Viking nightmare. Of course, in his bedroom! Sleepy and under the fresh impression of the TV documentary, Scrooge is fully frightened. She instructs him to go to an arctic island in order to consult the „Oracle of the North“. There she hopes to get a chance to finally steal his lucky dime. Of course, once again this will fail at the end.

Absolutely no cuddly „dimeshipping“ moments so far! Moreover, at the very end, Scrooge even takes not much care of poor Magica, who is pretty battered. So what?

The best scene indeed is the „bedroom scene“. Magica is performing a perfect nightmare. But keep in mind: how many official stories might exist, with both meeting at night in the same bedroom? I bet that Branca and the two authors constructed this weird story primarily to try out how to install such a scene (and even a "bed scene", as Magica is standing on his bed in one panel!) to a youth-certificated story! It's quite clear that this only can be done if the dialogue is neither tender nor raunchy in any way.

Thus, it is up to the reader to imagine an alternative "what if" scene. What if Scrooge had seen through Magica's performance? Maybe something like this:

"Nice try, Magica! What an impressive entrance! But next time with some Wagner soundtrack, please. Oh, while you're here, my dear - why don't you take off that old tin can and make yourself a bit comfortable...?"

Pure mental cinema! In order to adapt the comic accordingly, one would not only have to rewrite the dialogue, but also redraw the panels. Otherwise, the facial expressions wouldn’t fit.

I tried an alternative idea, cut the bedroom scene out and provided it as an isolated story with completely new texts. The dialogue, of course, would have to match the facial expressions. So the result cannot be cosy and tender. But it can have a different background, based on the assumption that the struggle about the first dime has somehow been settled and Magica and Scrooge have reconciled. They now use to celebrate their reconciliation anniversary with a themed evening - in this case with a highly private „Wagner festival“. Unfortunately, Scrooge has completely forgotten the date, which Magica is not amused about. Just a little scene from a relationship still remaining complicated. (“Es bleibt schwierig“).

There are movies in which the leading male and female actors can't stand each other at first, then come together due to circumstances and find each other in the end. One can well imagine that with Scrooge and Magica. Both are strong and independent characters. On one hand, the hard-boiled businessman who is in love with his money above all else; on the other, the freaky sorceress, bursting with temperament, energy and crazy ideas. A permanent blissful romance full of harmony is hard to imagine here.

And hand on heart: it wouldn't be funny either!

So have fun with the valkyrie!

At first, I created the German version „Walkürenzauber“:

And now the English version:

[kkysolo]

hello there! i know that this account is inactive, however i still wanted to message you on the off-chance that you might see it. as a fanfic writer myself i know and understand the stress and pressure of gaining any semblance of a following. i also know how good it feels to know that people love and care for any of my work. i vividly remember reading “the cultist” for the first time. i had to be up for work at eight in the morning and was irresponsible enough to pull an all-nighter in order to finish it all in one sitting. i recommend the fic to people who aren’t even in the fandom simply because it’s so wonderful. i have read fanfiction for over fifteen years at this point, and never- not ONCE- have i adored a fic quite so much. i have re-read it at least thirty times over the last three years (i think i might have a problem). your writing style is absolutely unmatched and if you were to ever publish a book of your own please know that i would be first in line for a signing! despite the fact that you don’t know me personally, your fic has offered me solace in times of great emotional stress and major life changes. in turn, YOU have been there for me during these times as well. thank you for being an amazing writer. thank you for being brave enough to put your work out there. thank you for being kind to yourself and knowing when to step away from this blog/fandom. thank you- from the bottom of my heart- thank you. you’re awesome :)

hi there, love!

i've read and re-read this message a few times now, and i still don't think anything i could say in words would communicate how it made me feel. but it made me feel a lot.

the fact you still think of it, re-read it, circle back to it, recommend it - that is truly special to hear, and i'm so, so thrilled to know it stayed with you. i'm even more affected by the fact it was with you during hard times (i wrote it during my own hard times, so it was there for both of us!). i'm rooting for you, and i hope those times have passed for you.

maybe one day (because i never say never), i'll return to it. but for now, i'm just so glad that it found its way to you, and anyone else who enjoyed it.

as for my own book - maybe one day! 🤍

thank you so, so much for your kind words and for the support. it genuinely means the world. even though i'm not active here anymore, i'll always be connected to those stories - especially the cultist - and to the people i met here along the way.

above all else, thank you for everything!

i think i'll come back to this message quite a bit. thank you 🤍 x

[nickmaghighlights]

Nick Mag Highlights - #43 August 1998

We now return to our regularly scheduled programming! Spring is in the air, but can’t it just be summer already? Let’s get a head start by checking out Issue #43 from August, 1998.

First let me say, I love this cover! It really surprises me that they didn’t feature more Nicktoons crossovers for cover art, it’s a fun idea. Dare I say it might be the only Nickelodeon Magazine cover featuring a crossover between different Nick shows? With original art, I mean. (The Jimmy-Timmy Power Hour and its sequels got their own dedicated issue covers but that's different, it doesn't count.)

Before we begin, just letting you know you can read the magazine along with me here.

Well, can you find which flavors are fake and which are real? 

Yep, the ones that sound fake… are fake! 

It’s a bit obvious isn’t it? If Gatorade had played their cards right they could have tripped everyone up and taken this as an opportunity to announce a new “Trout” flavor. Missed opportunity indeed.

I’d say we’ve got the makings of another winner issue here. There’s nothing like the excitement of an impending summer vacation! Although, if you were alive when this magazine was released, chances are summer vacation stopped being a thing for you a while ago. But hey, I say you're never too old to have fun! So grab your sunscreen, beach towels, and feel free to take any notes for when you’re making your summer plans. Let’s dive in!

A three foot long poster? Well I’ll be, I’m surprised there’s any space left in the box to fit the cereal! 

Little history lesson here for those unfamiliar: If you check the bottom right of the page, you’ll find mention of nickelOzone. nickelOzone was a short-lived hour-long programming block that ran on Nickelodeon from 1998 to 2000. Suppose this little cereal stunt was a means of promoting their new block? That might be even easier to figure out than the Gatorade puzzle.

Online sources say that nickelOzone played from Sunday to Friday (sorry, Saturday fans) from 8 PM to 9 PM, and was aimed towards an older, preteen audience. I’m not really sure about that though, since it seemed to just play shows from Nick’s usual lineup anyway, like Hey Arnold! for example.

Maybe checking out the bumper that would play to start off the block will shed some light on things.

… Nope, guess not.

Also no, I'm not going to say anything about the three-legged freak boy in the ad. Stop asking.

Gotta say, they’re already really selling me on the summer vibes. I appreciate using stuff like kayaking and carnivals to represent summer fun as opposed to the usual beach iconography. I don’t appreciate the closeup dog mouth picture as much.

That one question about the interviews Nick Magazine conducts is a bit interesting though, because I’ve also wondered how they get all their short responses, like for these kinds of sections:

Kudos to R.L. Stine for looking exactly like you expect he would.

Did they just send out questions en masse via email or letters, and publish whatever responses they got in time? I wonder if some of the actors’ agents or PR people ever answered on behalf of their client with on-brand responses because the actors themselves were busy. I know they’re just one or two sentences, but I wouldn’t be surprised if big actors have people to take care of little promotional stuff like this, even if they’re about answering personal questions. What do you think?

Alright, here’s a better question: Am I overthinking this?

I would really love to speak to someone who won or went to the same school as someone who won one of these kinds of giveaways. Y’know, one of these types where you win a party for your class or have a popular band come and do a concert in the gymnasium. That kind of thing. I wonder how they go about planning and executing that sort of operation. What if the school just says no? Maybe they just dump the prizes at your house.

I can’t say I expected something quite so pleasant out of a Nickelodeon Magazine, but I like it! I’d also like to give some appreciation to the late Joan Steiner and her series of Look-Alikes books for giving me my next aesthetic to obsess over. Oh, to be a little guy living in a world made of snacks and knick-knacks without a care in the world…

If you find the world of Look-Alikes as lovely as I do and want to see more, you can borrow it from the Internet Archive.

Now even if it is just a s’more turned green, this still is a cute way to personalize a famous summer snack. I mean, just take a look at these satisfied customers! 

(Ask your doctor if you think soggy green marshmallows are the right choice for your summer camping trips.)

Some of you might be familiar with this ad’s TV commercial counterpart, but Nick Mag readers were also obliged to find Banjo-Kazooie’s magic puzzle piece hiding in their grocery store’s usual Keebler goods. I find the choice to portray Banjo & Kazooie as mute, 3D freaks in a 2D world a little odd. Did they think kids wouldn’t understand the game was 3D if Banjo was illustrated, or something?

If you were even thinking about becoming your school’s #1 cool kid, you better do your research in amassing the components necessary to complete the Rugrats style. This is so crucial, Nickelodeon was even kind enough to give 500 kids the chance to snag chic baby merchandise to secure their high-end societal status. Oh yeah, the $10,000 grand prize is neat too, I guess. 

Excuse the weird aspect ratio, I had to edit the page slightly to make everything look neat for the picture.

In addition to gag product labels, Nick Magazine also used to be in the business of gag postcards. Ain’t that just the bee’s knees? I don’t recall Nick printing many of these back when I started reading in the 2000’s (I mean c’mon, postcards? Instant message me when they start printing gag emails, grandpa), which is unfortunate. I might’ve gotten more use out of these than a fake label for dental floss. There were very few times as a child where my friends were in close vicinity to dental floss, but they definitely all had mailboxes!

Jeez, what is this, the giveaway issue? Sorry Arnold, but I already just spent hours convincing my Mom to search for Banjo-Kazooie's magic puzzle piece and apply for a lifetime's supply of Rugrats pencils. Just be happy I bought your 3-foot long poster and move along!

Ah, is there any other activity more tried-and-true than the ever-popular maze? Between activity books and restaurant kids’ menus I think they may be more common than the word search at this point.

Interestingly, when also considering the Look-Alikes pages, I’m surprised by how straightforward this magazine is when it comes to crediting the artists of these activities (and with big, bold, differently-colored text, no less). Back when I was checking out issue #115 I had to head to the back of the book just to find some proper attributions! I wonder what changed between 1998 and 2005?

Speaking of which, Rodica Prato is still active in the industry to this day! You can find a lot of her works on her Instagram. She does tons of large, natural landscapes in a style very similar to this page here, give her a look!

Another Comic Book, coming up! I’ve actually got a lot to say about this one cause-

Oh, uh, I’m sorry! It seems I accidentally skipped an interview. Usually they don't make 'em as small as this… Hm, this is awkward…

Seriously, what's with the shortchange? Did they want to get Chevy Chase and when that fell through interviewing Beverly D'Angelo was Plan B? Sorry you weren't deemed full page material, Mrs. Griswold.

Alright, sorry, where were we? Right, let’s take a look at the Comic Book for this issue.

Starting us off, I actually got a lot of laughs out of the “Prankvertisement” on the left page, maybe the most I’ve laughed at any Nick Mag content since starting this blog! Convincing someone they mathematically don’t exist and having them immediately fade away, unable to even find a hole in the formula is so funny in such a ridiculous way to me. 

Also, I tried the activity on the right page. It’s kind of a fun idea, but it made me dizzy. I recommend it to anyone reading who might be deserving of such a fate.

Finally, another history lesson opportunity! The Southern Fried Fugitives was one of Nick Magazine’s first ongoing comics, and was pretty synonymous with the mag’s brand during their publication. It had been canceled sometime before the 2000’s, and while it's personally not the most appealing to me, I can see how its art and wacky premise factored into its longevity.

Eagle-eyed readers might have already spotted these strips underneath some of the pages. Like the similarly formatted Impy & Wormer, these are short gags slotted in the bottom of each page of the Comic Book in what’s probably the most effective use of empty space since that ship that got stuck in the Suez Canal. There’s more than what’s in my picture, but they all also follow the “[Thing] who is always stuck 10 seconds in the future” setup, so take a look if you’re really dying for more of those. 

These strips come from famous American illustrator Tony Millionaire, who’s probably most well-known for his Sock Monkey series of children’s books and the comic strip Maakies. He’s worked with DC & Marvel, done art for a They Might Be Giants album, and has produced a veritable mountain of independent work. On the Nickelodeon side of things, he recently did work on Boom! Studios’ Rocko’s Modern Life series of comic books. You can find him and his stunning work on Instagram.

So, after passing another edition of Scene but Not Heard and a short n’ sweet CatDog comic I haven’t got much to say on, we come across… Hey, I remember these guys! Funky & Miriam’s House of Random Words was a sort of comic/activity hybrid where readers were challenged to guess the right definition of the word the characters were using. These are fun! And they make a vocabulary virtuoso such as myself feel smart, in spite of the fact I’m reading a magazine for children.

Odd thing to end off the Comic Book with, don’t you think? Unless it ended earlier? I can never tell since they don’t actually say when the Comic Book is over, exactly. Anyway, I know how this sounds, but I would really appreciate some citations here! How can we be so sure that “monster obstacles” in minigolf only really started in the 1950s? 

Hm?

Really making kids put the work in here, huh? I feel like this might be one too many mazes above the average reader’s paygrade. Good thing kids can just turn the page or you would've severely handicapped your marketing.

Pages edited to show both the back and front.

This is a pretty fun idea for a prank, and I know as a kid I would’ve appreciated some way to liven up the road trip experience. A gag newspaper would’ve done the trick! Well, it sounds good on paper, but maybe not magazine paper. Yeah I feel like the crinkly texture of plastic-y paper might give away this one-page periodical as a phony before the prankee gets the chance to read it. Unfortunate, but what can you do? Statistically this prank must’ve worked at least one time.

Alright, I can usually handle Nickelodeon’s slime-based image and all the drippings that have come with it, but this actually makes me want to gag. The idea of cracking through the cold, hard exterior of a popsicle and unearthing a filling of thick, syrupy slop underneath is not really my idea of a good time. A quick look-up shows that these things do indeed have their fans, so maybe I’m missing grout- er, uh, missing out.

We’ve got our calendar for the issue here, and while I’m still not impressed by the calendar’s comedy, I do appreciate the wide variety of fun facts and celebrity birthdays. This is just another way for kids to gain little random pieces of knowledge, and I’m all for it! Kids love finding out random facts, it's like the fun version of learning.

This is a pretty good tutorial, and it actually teaches some important drawing tips, like breaking down figures into shapes and making outlines and temporary lines for guidance. Yeah it’s basic, but for a young audience, I give it a thumbs-up. Just like Arnold.

Oh, wow. This is genuinely some history in the making! It’s interesting to see the likes of The Fairly Oddparents and ChalkZone being mentioned before they and their creators became such hot topics. For those unfamiliar or forgetful, Oh Yeah! Cartoons was a Nickelodeon show that premiered in 1998. It was an anthology of sorts, with each episode featuring a couple of short cartoons created by various filmmakers in the industry. It ran for three years, spanning a total of 34 episodes, and like those other two shows I mentioned, it was where My Life as a Teenage Robot got its start. Cartoon Network had tried a similar format a couple years before Oh Yeah! Cartoons, with its own anthology show What a Cartoon!. That show gave us Dexter’s Laboratory, The Powerpuff Girls, Johnny Bravo, among others. Both shows were fantastic means of creating tons of new, varied content and spawning shows that are still beloved to this day. 

So yeah, needless to say, can we get another one of these kinds of shows, please? There’s only so many more reboots you can make, right? Right?

Time to wrap things up, and we’ve got the usual last-minute ads and gags, but I do want to talk about Hey, Herb!. This was a section where readers could write in to then-Nickelodeon president Herb Scannell and ask their burning questions. As you can probably tell though, the audience of elementary school kids reading Nickelodeon Magazine usually weren’t very sure on what to ask. So these sections tend to be pretty small. As Nickelodeon’s fourth president, Scannell oversaw the release of some of Nick’s most popular shows, including Spongebob Squarepants, Danny Phantom, and Avatar: The Last Airbender during his ten-year long stint. I’d love to ask him what that was like, but seeing as how this was before all that, I guess these are pretty good questions too. (He does kind of look like Jimmy Smits).

And with that, we put a lid on another rip-roaring edition of Nickelodeon Magazine. As per usual, I didn’t get to everything in the issue, just the stuff I had things to say about. Honorable mentions for this issue include some gag flyers for fake tourists traps (to go along with the gag truckstop newspaper), and the previously mentioned CatDog and Scene but Not Heard comics. KABLAM! fans might also be interested in checking out page #58 which includes an interview with Stephen Holman, the creator of the show’s recurring Life with Loopy segment.

In other news, Nickelodeon just celebrated its 44th anniversary two days ago! So, why didn’t I post this NMH then instead of today? Well… it was April Fool’s Day too, wasn’t it? Uh, April Fool’s?

That’s all the fun in the sun we've got for now. Enjoy spring while you've still got it, 'cause summer will be here before you know it! Have fun, and until next time, keep on reading!

[thetownsendsw]

Okay. So D&D 5e is on its way out, the new playtest is changing things and a lot of people have sworn off WotC anyway, so this might be my last chance to post this where it has any relevance.

Why Warlocks don’t get Animate Dead

You’ve seen people say it. Animate Dead seems like it should fit Warlock’s lore perfectly, they’re the spellcasters with connections to dark, evil forces, they rule over the weak willed and bind themselves to things from the beyond, why wouldn’t they be able to accumulate a few zombies?

Well, part of it is that it’s not just a few, but we’ll get to that in a minute. Ultimately, the restriction here is not thematic, but mechanical. The spell Animate Dead has a specific proviso that feeds into the narrative the game is trying to tell with it: If you don’t re-up the spell on any undead you’ve got around within 24 hours of creating them, and each 24 hours thereafter, you lose control of them and they turn against you. You are playing with forces beyond your control, and if you don’t monitor your resources as a spellcaster carefully, they will try to kill you. The way Warlocks work in 5e completely negates that: they get their leveled spells back on a short rest. With a warlock casting it, Animate dead goes from “Guys I used too many spell slots in that fight, we’ve gotta kill the stooges before they turn on us in a couple hours” to “Guys I used all my spell slots…as usual, gimme an hour so I can re-up our cannon fodder.” The risks built into the thematic elements of the spell are rendered harmless by how a Warlock is played, which also completely violates the themes of the Warlock! This is the “dark magic has consequences” class and when you give it the “dark magic has consequences” spell, the two cancel each other out! Two wrongs actually do make a right!

But that’s not the only thing

The Undead Army Build

So, it is actually possible to get your hands on Animate Dead as a Warlock without much finagling. I mean sure, there’s the Undying Servitude invocation, but that’s once a day explicitly for the problems stated above, that’s not gonna work for us.

However, the Golgari Agent background from Guildmasters’ Guide to Ravnica, like all backgrounds in that book, grants access to a handful of extra spells that might be outside your class’ normal spell list. Golgari, being a sewer-dwelling death cult-slash-municipal waste and agriculture department, throws Animate Dead in there.

Now Warlock is not one of the “suggested classes” for that faction, but the book does specify that the Great Old One patron is appropriate for any Guild, and the (not yet published when this was printed) Undead or (justifiably ignored) Undying patrons would be entirely fitting for an organization intermittently run by sewer liches. Also who cares what the book suggests, you’re not here because you respect authority.

Once you’ve got that figured out, make sure you’re an Elf or a Reborn (either of which is also very appropriate for Golgari, look at you adhering to themes!) so you can finish a short rest in four hours. Hours in the day are your currency here. Make sure you’re level five. Yeah. Level five(5). Also take Undying Servitude, just to double down.

First, get a whole lot of corpses. You’re supposed to be part of the sewer-cult that disposes of bodies in a fantasy ecumenopolis, so this should not be hard. Ideally you want to be within an hour’s shamble of the site of whatever horrible thing you plan on doing at the end of this, so find a nice location, possibly underground, with a lot of room.

Wake up, or rather come out of trance/deathlike stupor, and immediately cast Animate Dead twice with your two spellslots. Set your two zombies to guard you while you immediately take a short rest. Once you have your spell slots back, repeat the process. There is, to my knowledge, nothing in the rules preventing you from taking one short rest immediately after another. Repeat this each of your twenty waking hours. You now have 40 zombies to watch over you wile you take your 4 hour long rest.

(The mathematically minded among you may note that it should actually be 21 rounds of casting for 42 zombies, one at the start of each hour and one at the end of the last. However, Animate Dead takes a minute to cast, and your doing it 40-41 times a day, effectively squeezing another hour in between, resulting in 20 rounds of animation with 19 short rests in between.)

Now, here’s the thing. Animate Dead creates one zombie at a time, but it reestablishes control over up to four. So maintaining your zombies takes much less time that making them, about 5 hours for those 40 if you use the same pattern of cast-short rest-cast. Now you’ve got 40 undead that are good for the rest of the day and it’s not even noon yet! Let’s do something utterly horrific!

But wait…why stop there? You’ve got 15 more waking hours to work with.

Here’s a basic rundown of how your next few days can go. (I apologize if this formats weird for anybody, I couldn’t be arsed to make a chart as a pdf) D=day; sZ=starting zombies, how many you wake up with; HM=hours maintaining your existing zombies; HC=hours spent creating new zombies; nZ=new zombies made that day, sometimes with +1z from Undying Servitude’s free casting.

___D___sZ___HM____HC____nZ_

    0z.      0h.       20h.     40z

   40z.     5h.      15h.    30z+1z

   71z.     9h.      11h.    22z+1z

   94z.     12h.     8h.     16z+1z

  111z.    14h.     6h.     12z+1z

  124z.   15.5h.  4.5h.     9z+1z

  134z.     17h.    3h.       6z

  140z.   17.5h.   2.5h.    5z+1z

  146z.   18.5h.   1.5h.    3z+1z

  150z.     19h.     1h.      2z

  152z.     19h.     1h.      2z+1z

  155z.    19.5h.   .5h.     1z

  156z.    19.5h.   .5h.     1z+1z

  158z.      20h.    0h.         +1z

  159z.      20h.    0h.         +1z

  160z

Two weeks later you’ve got one hundred and sixty undead minions at your disposal. Assuming a nice blend of about 2/3 zombies for front line cannon fodder and 1/3 skeletons for mobility, range, and flanking, DnD Beyond’s encounter builder puts that at roughly 32,000 adjusted XP, roughly equivalent to fighting one CR 21 monster. The way DMs talk about action economy, I think most would say that’s low-balling it.

(If you’re wondering why you don’t use the +1z from Undying Servitude every day, sometimes not using results in a sZ in a multiple of four, meaning the next day you’re using your HM time with perfect efficiency, re-upping four Zombies each time. Adding one more on those nights just means you have to spend a whole slot just to keep that one guy in line, functionally equivalent to just waiting to animate it the next day. Same reason you could get to 161 total but it’s not really worth it. You can use Undying Servitude on those nights, if you want; just be sure to send that zombie off on a suicide mission.)

Now, the diminishing returns on that Zeno’s paradox of necromancy is real. Honestly, if you’re smart, you can just stop after day 10, since the 152 zombies you’ll wake up with on day 11 will give you one free hour in which to regain spell slots for other things, so you can actually be a caster during whatever horrifying siege you have planned. Just make sure you’ve got the timing worked out on when your minions go bad so you can put the next group to time out on the front line. Azorius doesn’t know what’s about to hit it.

Final step: draw up a new character sheet because the DM will kill your character for pulling this off at LEVEL FIVE. The wizard got fireball, you got an undead horde in a fortnight. At higher levels I don’t wanna figure out the whole pattern, but at a Warlock’s maximum number and level of spell slots you max out at 640 zombies, plus you can take Create Undead as your Mystic Arcanum for some more powerful irregulars.

Don’t try this at home, kids. Or do, I’m not your mom.

[nanjokei]

all your sycophants telling you to be meaner, nah youre just an asshole. did you like. even read the post in the first place. bc it doesnt look like you did?? i get that it makes you feel cool and good abt yourself to mock other ppls thinking-out-loud type posts but you basically telling them to shut up and keep their thoughts out of The Pure And Perfect Tag™ and then go on to say "oh im autistic ive never gotten the chance to rly speak up and be mean so this feels good" like..... thats so painfully hypocritical. you should KNOW how it feels to be told "shut up no one cares" so why are you doing it to someone else? so im telling you to shut up. youre annoying and no one cares and you shouldnt use other people as punching bags. asshole

did you get it out of your system. that's great. i don't really feel like giving a benefit of the doubt response anymore given after the first ask you decided to go ballistic like this... like, not even being sassy, i could have just responded "are you mad" and published it. but i am a neurotic person who will respond even if it's not in the way i initially set out to. just for you.

just for transparency, here's the first ask i got last night:

hi. i think you are projecting a lot of feelings onto me that i did not express and stretching my original statements. which in some sense, some may see as understandable! i was being less than gentleman-ly! i don't know if this is the op messaging after i blocked them or a friend coming in to give me a piece of their mind, it does not matter. this is something i was gonna say even in the first ask: had i been approached for an apology, i probably would have caved and apologized, because i'm weak to that kind of thing. at the very least even if i didn't agree, i would have wholeheartedly apologized for any distress or trouble. this isn't bull or me trying to flatter my way out of a situation. the response i got— which a friend ended up reading, to be honest i just blocked right away— was thoroughly strange, something something apologizing and being like "idk tumblr tag etiquette" and choosing to delete the original post. which i would not know how to respond to. i'm not some kind of tag police or god of tumblr or whatever, so why apologize to me or delete the post. i am writing this response under the assumption that it could be someone else, but a hit dog will holler, in this one sentence i will address OP directly: that response was strange. had i read it, i would have either ignored it still or apologized, i have no idea, but initial my response really was "but i have no power over this person or anyone". i did not ask for you to clean up your contribution to a tag or police it. i simply stated my opinion on my blog when prompted by a third party expressedly out of earshot of the op. is that a morally correct thing? proooobably not. but it is the internet. "why are you, the person who got hated on, continuing the cycle of hate" type bs might as well be a self fulfilling prophecy. if you feel this way, why send me asks about it at all if you're gonna go ape over me not responding immediately? does it mean so much to you? go ahead and block. i do not argue with people online. but i'll respond because clearly you want one. not gonna prostrate myself before anyone, and respond just as coldly as you are painting me out to be. this is my special fanservice to you, since you wanted to believe that about me so badly.

>pure and perfect tag

i do not check tags for a reason. i checked it one time. i guess this implication comes off of what i said so i'll say it out clearly but i genuinely could care less past the initial pang of cringe what is in there. had nonnie not continued to converse with me i would have moved on ans forgotten about it. i am not a police or a militia. it means nothing to me most days if a tag is "good". who the hell cares. you are obsessing over my existence, my opinion and the weight of such a thing a bit too much over here.

>shut up no one cares

neeeever said this, and no one has ever said this to me. the story i recounted about being called toxic was in the youtube comments and was 5 years ago. no one told me "no one cares". it just hurt my ego. anyway, if someone cared so much to send two asks about it, then thank you. i really won't shut up.

>never got the chance to speak up and be mean

ok.

>my sycophants

it was one nonnie. are you obsessed with me or something? i am like one random ass blogger on a dying website. i do not have an army or cult of personality. i am just one guy.

>end of the ask

heard you loud and clear. thanks for the feedback, not gonna reflect on it much though. it was an asshole move. does it make me an asshole? yup.

it was catty and petty of me. i knew that much from the very first ask i answered. but op wasn't tagged, i didn't send anyone to them either, so i can only really think "what were you doing on my blog anyway". because yes, this is a blogging site, not a pvp site, i didn't engage with anyone to start fights. didn't bring op's name into it, didn't actively mock them (the comment about them not being special was ad hominem though i admit to that much. sorry.)

you cannot expect everyone to be 100% nice and handle people with kiddie gloves in their own blog space when they are not bringing you into it especially given i did not direct anyone to anyone's post.

had it been me i would have just blocked and moved on. pwease no steppy and all that. whoever sent op an ask about it to make them respond is kind of a drama obsessed weirdo lol. like i'm just saying. causing both me and op a headache. it did not have to shake out like this. neither of us were gonna engage with each other and everyone could have gone to sleep without any icky feelings. honestly, from my point of view, both of you are strange. wow, i am barely hiding who i think is behind this ask. but it really is addressed very generally.

don't send me another ask! i will just publish them with no response. this situation was entirely avoidable and i lament that you decided to both waste my time and your own with all this. just block me like i asked!

[writing-for-life]

I knew all the deep thinkers would unite in their efforts to address the elephant in the room. Because honestly: How can you not care about Orpheus if you want to write even remotely canon-adjacent?

Going in through one reblog, otherwise I’ll get lost…

I think some of these ideas really work. Well, “work” is always relative. All of the things we are talking about here are still a stretch involving a lot of goodwill, and we all know that we are pulling him OOC the moment he makes a decision that doesn’t lead into the inevitable, so much is clear I guess. 

But in any case, it would also depend where in the arc you are, who is in your actual fic, and whose development you most want to focus on. What might be an option in one fic might not be an option for others at all. 

So I think this is a really great resource for fanfic writers to think about and spin their yarn….

Because The Sandman canonically can’t ever have a happy ending (and I am a fierce defender of canon and will scream if they touch it in the show 😂), I’ll get to your reblogs first @rey-jake-therapist and @tickldpnk8. I totally agree: Canonically speaking, there is absolutely no way out, and I think Neil really has set it up in a way that you couldn’t change it with a good conscience if you want to keep Morpheus in character. So I agree with absolutely everything you’ve both written.

But naturally, it is a story about change, and that’s a possibility in fanfic. I just think there is change that still sits well in a canon-adjacent way if we assume character-development, and then there’s change that is just… coffee shop AU 😂

So if we assumed we want to give him a chance, we need to solve the Orpheus issue, because ignoring it is just so… I don’t even know where to start. And as I said before: I find it tricky myself. I set out writing accordingly, my first volume has been finished a year ago (just publishing the last chapters), but he just isn’t happy being happy (no surprises there) and constantly tries to pull away from it without asking me about it😂. He did it while I wrote the first story, and now he tells me to do the second one and says again: “Nope” (I swear our characters have their own mind, they just flow through us). So it is really hard because I share your take. And yet, I personally don’t want to wipe his memory anymore (just in my story) because he *has* changed, and there was a lot of sacrifice involved that would feel wasted in a really unjust way, so it’s not an option.

As for Lyta: I feel that would be a bit like what I already wrote about “sitting it out”. Yes, she kicked it off, but I feel even if we took her out of the equation, the Kindly Ones would come for him sooner or later anyway because that’s what they do if you spill family blood (although we can of course go into the technicality of what that actually means). So while it would buy him a bit of time, it wouldn’t solve the problem I guess?

I love all your thoughts about this, @tickldpnk8, and I think we could make all of them work to a degree (alone or in combination), and I will address them all individually (the dreamstones really have so much potential, and I have already set that up in my first story in case I want to fall back on it. I just don’t think I do 😂). I especially like that you mentioned Loki, because there are so many shades of grey  there that could be explored. So for all the writers who have Loki in their story, that’s a definite heads-up. 

@hurrrhurrrhurrr, we are made of similar stuff. I always thought that was the easiest (?) way in. But I guess you have to look a bit closer into Greek mythology and lore for that. I have been reading everything related to Greek mythology since I was a teenager and feel okay navigating it (needless to say, I shamelessly rewrite it for my own stories), and there are definitely ways to make this work. There is the atonement idea, which I would personally always heavily lean into (as in: It’s what I’m writing). Because so much hinges on Morpheus learning to forgive himself, and that *is* character development. There could possibly even be something in how Apollo, erm, “silenced” the Oracle (without going for the Apollo = Morpheus thing, because that obviously wouldn’t work). You’d need to be creative with how much power Greek deities still have these days, but since Muses and Erinyes still operate in full swing, I honestly don’t think we need to be *too* worried about that.

Plus, the Greeks constantly retconned and rewrote their own myths, so I feel it would be very possible to bend it into a shape that works without feeling too guilty about it. So yes, I totally approve 😂

@ginoeh and I already talked about the dreamstones in the comments, so I feel there *might* be something to play with, again depending on individual story. Could be a good villain sideplot, could be everything else really. There are nine other dreamstones (bar the three that get mentioned frequently: ruby, rose quartz and emerald) that we could probably project all sorts of things onto. Topaz, fire opal and black pearl are explicitly named, plus the ones that aren’t and the ones that are destroyed. I already made use of one of them, and I feel they are a good backup option that might help with certain things, but I personally wouldn’t want them to do *all* the work, so to speak, because I’m still not sure about how much power they would hold individually (bar the three we know, and even there, it gets fuzzy). Plus, it feels a bit too easy and abracadabraish to me (but I like it complicated, so that’s more my personal problem than anything else). It really depends on the story, and we know so little about the dreamstanes that it’s probably something that could work if written well? They are “solid dreams”, after all…

@demon-scarecrow I’ve seen it several times that Orpheus’ memory gets wiped, or he is somehow, I dare to use the word “manipulated” into having an imagined/dream body. It’s definitely possible, it just feels a bit unresolved to me, sometimes even a bit like gaslighting, depending on how the individual story is set up (it never sat right with Nada for me either, but that’s a personal thing). 

I like what @so-i-grudgingly-joined-this-site wrote about getting Orpheus back on his feet (although that sounds bad in this context), and the therapist in me definitely wants to go down that route. I think this is a very contemporary take for those who want to spend a reasonable amount of their story on character development for Orpheus instead of focusing mostly on Morpheus’ character development, because I feel you’d need to spend more time with Orpheus than other characters in that case. 

As for Death (and everyone who mentioned her): I think she would indeed be closest to a solution if someone else were to “do the job”, and I always felt there was a plot hole somewhere in just asserting that she can’t “take it back” when she can do it with other people. I mean yes, we know the explanation/the deal in a way, but it feels a bit meh to me. So if we are willing to gently bend that part of the story, I feel she is the only one who could do it. I just have a personal aversion against Death always saving the day and solving everyone else’s problems (then again, you can argue that she holds some responsibility for this one, so she’s definitely not off the hook). But for writers who are willing to go down that well trodden path, it is certainly an option. 

I hope I didn’t forget anything/everyone, and I love you all for bringing together this awesome brainstorm resource. And keep the ideas coming, there's probably more.

Give me your head-canons:

How do you solve the Orpheus problem?

As in: It’s the elephant in the room in so many canon-compliant or -adjacent fanfics I read (we obviously don’t need to talk about coffee shop AUs) and Orpheus either keeps on existing somehow (and no one cares, because Dream and whatever love interest just literally fuck off into the sunset and pretend everything’s okay), or he gets killed by someone else who quite strictly wouldn’t be able to kill him.

Is it a solvable problem?

If he keeps existing as a severed head, it’s honestly a bit shite for him, isn’t it? So these are the fics where we keep on visiting severed heads. I don’t know, I find that… dissatisfying.

If Dream kills him, it’s over. Unless he stays in the Dreaming and lets the storm blow over. Will it though? I mean yeah, he could sit there for all eternity (groan), not take Death’s hand and make sure he doesn’t conveniently leave so the Kindly Ones get in and start ripping the Dreaming to shreds. But that doesn’t really sound like a solution to me either, because the problem won’t go away. Also: Probably no meetings in the waking world with you-know-who ever again. Plot hole, people, it doesn’t work that way.

If someone else kills him: Who? Please don’t say Hob, I know he’s immortal (so was Murphy), but the very idea is that no one can kill the poor kid because he made a deal with Death, which she apparently can’t revoke. Is there an entity who could? Which links in to the question: Why could Dream (somewhat rhetorical question)? Could any similar entity do it if they also had to grant him a boon? But don’t forget: Can’t be one of the Endless, they’re all family. Unless one sacrifices themselves. I mean, I think I’ve seen Death doing that in a fic somewhere, I think the assumption was she’s okay with dying a mortal death, but I also felt that’s not quite right, since it’s just not the same (also: in her mortal form, she wouldn’t have those powers). Does it have to be The Presence/Glory? Why would they care?

Yeah, he could use the Saeculum I guess, but really? If the problem never existed, it would also feel… wrong? Plus, we all know that changing the past always has implications on the future that go far beyond the thing we want to change. Plus plus: I honestly think it would be a bit OOC for him because he’d feel there’s not enough at stake (like a whole universe imploding) to ever justify that. So no, that’s, IMHO, making him into someone he really isn’t (can of course be an option in fanfic I guess).

Same goes for the Dream of a Thousand Cats Spiel. Someone who is so wrapped up in his duty just wouldn’t do that for his own personal gain, and not even for one loved one (he also wouldn’t be allowed to kick it off by telling anyone, and what 1,000 dreamers would dream that? I mean, WE all would, but that’s a bit… meta?😂). I said what I said.

Or is it some sort of magic? Like, he’s still a severed head, but we make him *think* he isn’t, give him back a body (in his own mind, or maybe even for real)? But that’s also… not great and feels like gaslighting him. Really not keen.

So what say you?

Is this just a case of: Unsolvable problem, hence we might as well pretend we solve it in some ridiculous way or pretend it doesn’t exist in the first place?

[collectionofdestiel]

“It’s a break.” 

“You don’t sound like you believe that.”

Castiel closed his eyes, knowing that his brother was right. Why else would he be in Gabriel’s kitchen a little after one in the morning with a duffel bag of clothes and fresh tear stains on his cheeks? How could this be just a break when Castiel’s heart has been breaking for months now and all that is left is an empty hollow shell of an organ. No, he didn’t believe it. He didn’t believe those three little words, not as he whispered them like a madman’s mantra on the drive over here. But if he admitted it, really truly believed that this wasn’t a break… Castiel feared he wouldn’t be strong enough to handle it.

Gabriel let out a sigh at the deafening silence. It broke him to see his younger brother battling so hard in his mind when the reality was so heartbreaking. Taking a deep breath and moving his eyes over to the clock on his oven, he decided tonight wasn’t the night to hash this out.

“The guest room is all set up. Lotta pillows and blankets. Get some rest and we can discuss this more in the morning.” Standing up, Gabe waited to move until Cas did.

But Castiel couldn’t move. It was like his bones were concrete and his skin would rip at the slightly movement. It was like everything that was holding his body together would suddenly collapse and he would be only a puddle on the floor. If he moved, if he slept in a bed that wasn’t theirs… it would be the beginning of the end.

“Listen, Cassie-”

“I love him, Gabe.” Castiel finally opened his eyes and stared up at his brother with the look of a man starving for happiness. “I love him and he-he-”

“I know.” Gabriel knelt down in front of his brother and set a gentle hand on his shoulder. “I know you love him but dammit Cas, this isn’t good for you. Or him. I know that you two love each other and would go to the ends of the earth for each other but this isn’t healthy and some times people can love each other and not end up together.”

A harsh sob ripped through Cas’ throat before he could stop it. “I can’t let him go. I can’t. I can’t let him go, Gabe, please, I can’t-”

Applying more pressure to Cas’ shoulder, Gabriel pulled his brother off his chair and held him to his chest on his kitchen floor. He rocked the other man for minutes as they both tried not to cry, Cas mumbling and pleading to a deity that it would be ok and everything would work out, and Gabriel clung to his brother and pleaded with every fiber in his being that he would be ok.

~

“It’s more than a break.” 

“Okay.”

Castiel felt the life seep from his pores as he stood in the doorway of his brother’s living room and said what he had been dreading to say as he lay sleepless the night before. After hours and hours of thinking about the past decade of his life, and the smile that used to mean everything to him, he made himself realize that it was over. It was all over. The life he built, the home he shared, the garden they tended on warm summer days… it was over.

“I am going to call him. Make arrangements to get my things.” Cas felt the sour taste of bile start to eat at the back of his tongue. “Do you mind if I stay here for a few days until I get back on my feet?”

“Days? Little bro you can stay as long as you need.” Standing from his place on the couch Gabriel walked up to Castiel and pulled him into a firm hug, scared he might slip away in despair if he didnt ground him right then and there.

Castiel leaned into the warmth and closed his eyes. “Thank you, Gabriel.”

Smiling sadly, Gabe pulled back and looked into Cas’ eyes. He searched them for any spark of the man he grew up with, the love and excitement that always shown through the deep blue, but found nothing except emptiness. Trying to keep the tears from gathering, he turned and made his way into the kitchen for a sweet treat.

Castiel reached into his pant pocket and pulled his phone out. He stared at it for a little while, watching his reflection in the black mirror. Last night he had been so emotional and stuck in his own head that he hadn’t checked for messages or calls. There wasnt really a part of him that thought his husband would have looked for him or cared. 

Gathering any energy he had left he pressed his thumb to the side of his phone and the bright light met his eyes. Gasping softly he read quickly through his notifications. There were thirty seven missed calls from his husband, and more ninety nine plus text messages. Feeling guilt start to seep into his bones, Cas slid open his lock screen and pressed the number that used to bring him comfort. Closing his eyes, he pressed the phone to his ear and listened with a heavy heaving heart as it rang.

The second it picked up he knew that this was going to be the worst phone call of his life.

“Cas!?” His husband’s voice ripped through the phone so abruptly Cas flinched.

Clearing his throat, he tried to remember the speech he had prepared last night. “Dean-” “Where the hell are you?” Dean’s voice was followed by a car door slamming. “I’ve been driving all over the goddamn county looking for you.”

A part of Cas wanted to call bullshit, to say that if Dean cared at all he would’ve guessed Gabriel’s house immediately. But instead he took a deep breath and pushed onward. “Dean, what happened last night has been a long time coming. We both know that things haven’t been  working between us for-”

“Are you kidding me?” Dean screeched. “You’re breaking up with me on a phone call?”

“Dean-”

“No. Don’t. Where are you?” The venom in Dean’s voice was dripping off each word. 

“You really don’t know?” Now Cas could feel his own voice rising, the anger starting to ebb into his head and twist his thoughts. “You really couldn’t guess that when I came home to my husband kissing another man on our couch that the first place I would do is Gabriel’s?”

Silence met his ears for a few heartbeats until Dean’s voice came through softer. “You flew our to Colorado?”

Seeing red, Castiel let out an angry snort or disbelief. “Really, Dean? Gabriel moved back here last year. How long have you been ignoring me, thinking about this other man? A year? Two? This whole time?! Was our entire marriage some kind of sick joke to you?!”

“Cas if you would just let me explain what happened last night! You didn’t even give me a chance to explain what happened! And I swear to God I don’t remember Gabriel moving back at all. The guy hates me, I never saw him even when he visited before.” A car engine roared to life. “Whats his address?”

“No.” Castiel felt his knees give out and he curled himself up into a ball with his forehead pressed to his knees. “I can’t see you, Dean. All I can see is that man… and you and-”

“I didn’t kiss him.” All the anger drained from Dean’s voice. “I invited him over for a couple drinks cause he’s a guy from work. We did a couple projects together and he seemed like a cool guy. When I went to get the remote to turn on the TV he… he kissed me. I pushed him off. I didn’t even know you had come home. I didn’t know until I heard your cry that you had seen it.”

Castiel clamped a hand over his mouth and tried to tense his muscles before the sobs broke through.

“I love you, Castiel. I know… God I know how this looks. We haven’t been on the same wave length recently and,” Dean sighed and groaned, “and I have been a shitty husband and I took us for granted because I mean… it’s always been you and me and I guess I didnt think about the fact that you could leave me.”

The tears were flowing freely from Cas’ eyes but he couldnt move, couldnt open his mouth or breathe. 

“I love you more than anything in this world or the next, I swear to that. I have never wanted anyone else. I know things have been rough but fuck me I’d rather have you like this than be perfectly happy all the time with someone else.” A deep breath and then the car engine stopped roaring. “I won’t come get you. I won’t guilt you or beg you or do anything else. If you want to stay there, I’m not going to fight you. I want you to be happy, Cas, that’s all I ever wanted. So, um, if this is goodbye then I won’t hurt you anymore.”

Castiel pitched himself forward and let out all the sobs he had been trying to keep in. He cried and cried and pressed the phone so hard to his face he could feel the soreness in his cheek start to ache. But he couldn’t make any words come out. Every time he opened his mouth it was only broken whimpers and staggered breaths.

“Castiel, I love you. Goodbye.” And then Dean’s voice was gone.

SIX MONTHS LATER

Castiel watched the people coming and going outside the window of his small book store. It was started to get cooler outside and he always thought that the best addition to his peep watching was the brightly colored hats and scarves passing by. Winter was always so vibrant to him, always the season that made him smile the most from simply looking out a window.

The coffee in front of him had long stopped steaming but he still hadnt taken a sip yet. Instead he found himself captivated by the bustling street laid out before him. Most days his bookstore wasn’t busy, most of his sales being online, but he couldn’t blame anyone when it looked so nice to be outside walking in the cool air.

The bell dinged causing his eyes to leave the window and meet those of whoever walked in. When they were met with a perfect green, he felt a lump form in his throat and his back straighten just the slightest.

Dean Winchester walked slowly up the counter, as if he himself was feeling nervous about this and any moment he may change his mind and bolt for the door. But he kept walking, their eyes never leaving the others, until he was standing directly in front of the front desk.

“Dean-”

“Look, I know what I said.” Dean’s cheeks flushed as he dropped his eyes and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “I know that I said I wouldn’t fight or give you any more trouble. But, Cas, I can’t-I havent-I just can’t do this.”

Feeling tears well in the back of his throat, Castiel nodded to try to keep himself from crying again. “I know.”

“And um, I just, I know that we are seperated and I need to sign the divorce papers but every time I go to do it I just... “ Dean cleared hsi throat as his voice started to grow hoarse. “I can’t get myself to know that this is over.”

Castiel didn’t talk, but he nodded again and let the tears flow down his cheeks.

Bringing his eyes up, they looked into each other and for a moment the pain that had been clawing at their souls for months was gone. They could breathe again, there was hope sparking in their eyes that mirrored the others.

“I love you, Cas. And I won’t fight you if you want me to sign the papers and walk out of your life, but I will fight with you to keep you by my side.” Dean gave a small hopeful smile full of promise.

“Okay, Dean.” Castiel scrunched his eyes painfully as he let out a sob and ran around the counter to throw himself into the love of his life’s arms. “I never stopped loving you no matter how hard I tried.”

Dean held Cas to his chest so tightly it was hard to tell where one of them ended and the other began. “I know, sweetheart, I tried, too.”

~

“So, I can burn these papers, right?” 

Castiel looked up from his side of their bed with a yawn. “Hm?”

Dean, standing in the doorway to their bedroom with only a pair of low hanging lounge pants on, held up the divorce papers that neither of them had signed. “Burn these?”

Chuckling softly and closing his eyes to dive back under the covers, Cas replied with a simple, “Yes, honey.”

[beyondspaceandstars]

Around Your Neck

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, penetrative sex, choking, metal arm kink, fingering, semi-public sex, slight hand and finger kink - 18+, minors DNI. Summary: Something sparks in you when you watch Bucky wrap his hand -- the metal hand -- around Zemo’s throat. A/N: I was gonna wait to publish this tomorrow but ya know what?? im too excited about it. it’s pretty well received on ao3 so i hope y’all enjoy! probably not the best smut ever written but i had fun writing it. this is a result of some late night imagination.

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3

It happened fast. You were sitting on the plane, watching the trio bicker, when the next thing you knew, Bucky’s hand was around Zemo’s throat. To make matters more intense, it was the metal one. While hidden under that glove and coat, just the thought of it, the realization hit…

While fully aware of the intensity and seriousness of the situation, you practically groaned at the action. You didn’t know what it was, but seeing that contrast of metal and skin, and the flex of his arm... You couldn’t help it as you let out a breathy gasp.

Bucky backed away then but not before giving you a side glance. You could tell he was fighting back a teasing smirk as he eyed you and your sudden tense state. To outsiders it may have seemed like you were scared by your boyfriend’s reaction, even Zemo looked a bit concerned, but you and Bucky knew. Knew the pillow talk and drunk confessions you’d made about the arm.

Your thighs clenched as you watched Bucky return to his seat. He still wore that hard expression, somehow turning you on even more. It was suddenly getting hot, you felt, squirming a bit in your sweater.


Why did you allow yourself in this position? When Bucky enlisted your help, citing your past as an agent, you had originally dismissed it. You’d never really worked with your boyfriend, having already been out of the scene before he came into your life. But those pleading eyes and soft touches won you over no matter what.

Little did you know, though, it’d lead to you being on the private jet of a terrorist, ridiculously turned on by your boyfriend’s metal arm.

You fumbled for your bottle of water, taking a big gulp.

“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asked as he broke off the conversation with the other two men. All of them faced you, waiting for a reply.

You nodded, placing your water bottle down. You turned directly to Bucky and met his furious eyes. “Just feeling a bit hot.”

He raised his brows as you felt the other men stare with confusion. The relationship wasn’t a secret by any means but the tone you two spoke with was certainly one reserved for other times.

"I think there’s a bathroom towards the back," Bucky nodded, motioning towards the end of the plane with his metal arm. From the corner of your eyes, you saw Zemo odd in confirmation. "If you need to cool down."

His simple movements sent a million little fires within you. The wetness between your thighs was getting harder to ignore, harder to play cool in front of the other men.

Biting your lip, you nodded. "Thank you, Bucky." You said his name with such slow ease, it was lighting something more in him, too. That’s when it really clicked.

You watched him as you rose from your seat. He glanced down, pretending to check something, trying to act as cool and collected as possible. For a former assassin, you thought, he wasn’t doing very well. He definitely knew. He got the little hint in your nod, in your tone. You figured he’d give it at most five minutes.

You made it to the airplane bathroom and squeezed your way in. Way smaller than you anticipated and you tried to figure how your super-soldier boyfriend was going to fit in here but he’d make it in. His arousal wouldn’t let him out of this.

You stood in front of the mirror, faux fixing your make-up and splashing water to kill time when the knock on the door came. Bucky hadn’t even given it a full minute before he was hot on your heels.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his urgency as you unlocked the door.

"You know they totally know what’s going on in here," you whispered as Bucky just barely fit himself inside the tiny bathroom. In one full motion, he locked the door then picked you up by the waist, setting you on the makeshift bathroom counter. You let out another giggle of surprise by his smoothness.

His arms were around your waist, pulling himself into your body, so eager and urgent. The gloves were long gone you realizes as you gasped at the feeling of the metal arm teasingly making its way under your sweater. His grip on you were tight.

"Do you think I care if they know?" Bucky mumbled as he began attacking your neck with kisses. He nipped and licked at your skin making you let out little squeals. Oh yeah, there was no way no one knew what was happening here but you didn’t have it in your heart to care anymore. You were practically dripping in your jeans and it was like Bucky could tell.

In an attempt to move closer, his thigh came up to your core, pressing, rubbing. You moved with it, letting the motions ease some of the burning in you.

Bucky continued the assault on your neck as you let out a desperate moan. "Could we please at least hurry so it’s not as weird when we go back out there?"

Your boyfriend chuckled, almost darkly, as he removed his lips from your neck. He began working up until his lips were finally on yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck, now taking your chance to pull him in. Bucky didn’t seem to mind your eagerness as he once again nudged your core with his thigh. The moans you gave out at that… Bucky felt captivated and you could feel it in his kiss.

Reluctantly disconnecting, he mumbled, "I don’t think I want to hurry anything, doll." He gave another peck. "Might want to stay here and spend hours between those thighs."

"Bucky-," you gasped.

"But that’s not what you’re here for, right?" He chuckled, his metal arm on your bare back. It came around to your side slowly, inching upward to your lace-covered breasts. "It’s the arm that got you all bothered."

You groaned as he then began to drag the hand back down your side, dipping just a finger below the waist of your jeans. The coolness barely skimmed over your hip but you were thrilled. It was a riveting contrast to the warmth that had been building over you since Bucky decided to choke someone right in front of you.

"It just looked g-good," you were getting breathy trying to formulate words. But everything was escaping you. As you tried formulating coherent sentences, Bucky began popping the buttons of your jeans then slowly tugging down the zipper. You gulped at the actions.

"Yeah?" Bucky chuckled, halting his actions. "How do you think my hand would look wrapped around your neck?"

Your brain starting spinning. You hated and loved when you got in this drunk state for him and he apparently was amused too as he gave you no time to answer. Bucky backed off a bit, as far as he really could, removing his touch entirely. You leaned back on the counter, brows furrowed in confusion.

"Turn around," he demanded.

The lightbulb went off in your head at his words. With a coy smirk, you hopped down from the counter and turned, your ass just brushing over his front. He was already ridiculously hard and apparently not amused with your sudden teasing. Without warning, Bucky grabbed your hips and forced you around completely. He made you plant your hands on the counter, giving you a clear view of yourself in the small airplane bathroom mirror. It surely wasn’t a full-fledge mirror but gave you just enough to see your neck, which you could already imagine how it was going to look with Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around it.

Apparently abandoning his threat of taking his time, Bucky pulled down your jeans and panties in one swift, sudden motion. You gasped at the action, feeling the material practically burn your thighs as it went.

Bucky was over any more teasing and talk as his metal hand promptly came up to your neck. It wrapped around, just tight enough to make you groan at the pressure. It felt so heavy and secure. Like it belonged there. You swore you got wetter at the sight.

Your eyes caught Bucky’s in the mirror. His didn’t hid how aroused, intrigued, he was at the sight before him. His eyes never left yours as his other hand made its way down your body, slipping right to your core where it found the bundle of nerves begging for attention. He gave it some attention before moving to dip a finger in you. Bucky groaned in your ear at the wetness that met his skin.

He pumped the one finger in and out slowly but surely as he whispered in your ear, "So wet." Another pump. "Looking so pretty, doll."

Your eyes started drifting close at the sensations Bucky was working over your body. Between the tightness on your neck to the pumping finger to your clit that brushed a bit over the counter, you were losing it.

Bucky, apparently, didn’t like you getting too comfortable. Without any warning, he pulled his finger out and undid his pants. Before you could register anything happening around you, he plunged his cock into you, lunging you forward on the counter. Your eyes snapped open. You were greeted by your boyfriend’s intense expression once again.

You barely registered the sight of yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were wide and that metal hand was not letting up on your neck. You could barely choke out any moans but it all felt so good, so right.

Satisfied that he had your attention, Bucky began thrusting in and out of you, pushing you more into the counter now, your arms barely holding up. He slipped in and out of you with such ease it was almost embarrassing. The only sounds prevalent for a bit in the room were the squelching between your thighs and the light grunts Bucky let out.

"How’s that?" Bucky asked between thrusts. Your legs were going to give out if he even began to talk. And as if he knew that fact, he continued. "Is this what you wanted, doll? My hand wrapped around your neck while I pounded into this sweet, tight pussy?"

You could only let out a weak moan in response which pleased him greatly. So much so, the thrusting picked up and the hand got tighter. Shocking you, your legs began to tremble. Bucky must’ve sensed it as his other hand came to grasp your waist tightly.

"I got you, doll," he whispered in your ear, placing a sweet kiss on your cheek. The contrast between that and his not-so-sweet motions nearly had you climaxing right then and there. "Got you so drunk on this cock you can barely stand, huh?"

You gave a breath moan, "B-Bucky-,"

He continued pounding as he spoke, seeming like the world’s greatest multitasker. Well, you figured, those assassins gotta be fast on their feet.

"What’s wrong?" Bucky mocked. "You close?"

You nodded profusely, watching your boyfriend in the mirror as he turned back towards it, your eyes meeting. He looked so blown out, in a primal state, as he kept working in and out of you.

Slowly, Bucky’s hand left your waist and sneaked down to your clit. He gave it a quick press that made you yelp. Bucky chuckled, amused by your responsiveness. It didn’t make him falter as he pressed again, this time running tight circles on your clit. The pressure and motion were making you lose your mind.

Bucky must’ve greatly enjoyed the sight as his metal hand got slightly tighter. You couldn’t do it — didn’t know how you managed it until now — but your eyes fluttered shut as your orgasm built and built and built—

He sped up the motions on your clit, accompanied by even more powerful thrusts. Your arms gave out, overwhelmed, sending you forward on the counter. Bucky went with, pressing his body fully into yours. His hand never left your throat. His thrusts never hesitating.

"That’s it, doll," he whispered and you could practically hear the cocky smile on his lips. "Cum for me."

And you did. It took nothing else. Your orgasm rushed through you, sending sparks and waves across your body. Bucky never once let up as he simultaneously chased his own while working you through yours.

"Bucky…" you mumbled as your legs shook, your orgasm rushing warmth throughout your body.

His motions and thrusting weren’t letting up, sending you into an overstimulated state. You clenched on his cock at the sensation. Bucky couldn’t hold back anymore. With a tight grip still on you and a desperate moan on his lips, he came inside, soaking your walls, letting it drip to your thighs.

His movements got weak and sloppy as he worked through his orgasm. You couldn’t even handle it anymore and pushed his hand from your clit, earning an amused chuckle from your boyfriend.

He gave one more quick thrust before pulling out of you, watching as his seed slowly leaked out of your swollen hole. He had half the nerve to get on his knees to clean you up but figured that was the last thing you wanted in your overwhelmed, dazed state.

Instead, he was a good boyfriend and began cleaning you up with some hand towels from a rack. You shivered as the fabric came into contact with your thighs. The reaction didn’t go unnoticed by Bucky who pressed a soft kiss to your skin.

Once cleaned, you finally found your balance again. You pulled up your panties and jeans then looked back into the mirror. You saw Bucky working to readjust himself in his jeans but what really caught your attention was the redness. Your neck had the faintest yet noticeable glow of red from his hand. You gasped, lightly running your hands over it.

Bucky whipped his head towards you, suddenly noticing the redness left on your skin from his grip. His heart nearly stopped until he saw the pure delight, satisfaction, in your eyes.

"Was that okay?" Bucky asked, wrapping his arms around your waist. You two watched each other in the mirror, this time in a much softer, sweeter position than before.

You nodded, "It was wonderful."

Bucky grinned and placed a kiss upon your lips. You melted into it, half wanting to go another round. But Bucky forced you two to disconnect.

"We should get back out there," he said.

You frowned. "What happened to spending hours between my thighs?"

"You little minx," Bucky groaned, his hands coming up to tickle your sides. You let out a squeal.

"We really have to face them, huh?"

Bucky went to answer but was cut off by Sam suddenly yelling from the other side of the bathroom door.

"Yes, you do!" He called out, anger and annoyance dripping from his words.

You two met each other’s stare as if hoping for one to suggest a way out of this mess but coming up empty, you just gave a sigh and pushed out of Bucky’s arms. Shamefully, you unlocked the door and opened it, trying to prepare mentally for how you were ever going to face Sam again.

"Sorry, Sam," you mumbled, slipping your way around him back to your seat, avoiding his gaze all cost. Bucky followed behind, seemingly unfazed by the situation.

"On a plane? Really?" Sam asked in disbelief. "While people are sitting right here?" You gave a quick glance to Zemo who truthfully didn’t look bothered by the situation. Your stomach turned at the idea of what else was taking place on this plane.

"Maybe you’re just jealous," Bucky finally spoke as he got comfortable again in his seat. Sam still stood in the aisle, hands on his hips, shocked by Bucky’s suggestion.

"Jealous?"  

Bucky shrugged. "I got to bang my very hot girlfriend on a plane. I think you’re jealous."

You groaned at his words, trying to hide your face in your hands. You could hear Bucky’s light chuckles, practically dismissing the situation, which did not please Sam.

"Who thinks it’s okay to bang their girlfriend when other people are right on the other side of the door?" Sam asked.

"Look, Sam," Bucky turned his head towards him, that teasing grin playing at his lips. "When it’s game time, it’s game time."

His words earned a chorus of disgusted groans and protest from the entire group. Your face was hot, probably entirely flushed, as red as your neck if you had to guess. You tried reprimanding Bucky for his ridiculous innuendos — something he didn’t quite understand as he tried defending his statement to the group. No one was buying it.

"Alright," you finally said, halting the conversation. "That’s enough. Can we please no longer talk about this? I think we get it, we got a bit carried away."

Zemo, however, didn’t think it was enough. He decided to add his two cents to the conversation by asking, "And what exactly inspired you to get carried away?"

Zemo didn’t even try to hide it as his eyes glanced down to Bucky’s metal arm. Sam observed, his eyes suddenly getting wide as he put two and two together, causing him to share even more disgust towards you two. Bucky took it all, laughing like it was the greatest joke of all time. You, on the other hand, hid your face once more, praying your seat would just swallow you whole. It sent them into another bicker of conversation.

No one was ever going to let you live it down.

[cacoetheswriting]

Can you do a rio (good girls) where reader saves him after Beth shoots him?

a/n: hi!! i had so much time writing this request, i really hope you like it (and i'm sorry it took so long to publish it omg)

pairing: rio x fem!reader warnings: angst, gun violence, trauma, blood, hurt/comfort, swearing, & a little fluff word count: 1.8k

a/n: ok so i wrote a part two 👀

-

Ever since you were a kid, you managed to land yourself in questionable, and honestly rather dangerous situations. Whether it was completely unintentional or of your own accord — usually the latter — you were no stranger to risky circumstances.

Yet tonight, even after taking into consideration your poor judgement and terrible decision making skills, you could not help but wonder how the fuck did you end up here?

To say the scene currently unfolding in front of your eyes was shocking would be an understatement. Beth, pointing a loaded gun at Agent Turner, while Rio nonchalantly encouraged — ordered — her  to shoot the man.

Definitely not the evening you had planned.

“You put it all on me so it’s never on you,” Beth exhaled, “Nothing’s ever on you!”

“Yeah, well—” Rio shrugged, “— now you got a bigger problem, don’t you?” He glanced at Agent Turner, before looking over Beth’s shoulder. His gaze locked with yours. If the situation wasn’t so fucked, and your eyes weren’t glossed with tears willing to spill at any given moment, you might have noticed how his expression softened for a brief second.

“You think he’s my problem?” Beth asked, regaining Rio’s full attention. He slid his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket. He observed as you hesitantly took step towards Beth, still out of her line of sight but close enough so she would hear you whisper, “Beth, what the fuck are you doing?”

She didn’t respond. Instead, it was Rio who spoke next, “So put on your big girl panties and take care of it.”

“He’s not my problem,” Beth stated sternly which caused Rio to roll his eyes, “Shut your mouth, bitch, okay, and just—

Gunshot.

The weapon no longer pointed at Agent Turner, but at the gang leader himself. Horror mixed with anger spread across Rio’s expression, but before he got a chance to react at the double-cross, Beth fired again.

And again.

Suddenly, everything was in slow motion.

Rio fell to the ground. He was holding his torso, coughing up blood as he groaned in pain. His body shaking ever so slightly, his breathing raggedy. Once he hit the floor with a thud, his eyes locked with yours again. Fear. All the two of you saw was fear.

“Give me the gun,” Agent Turner broke the heavy silence as he reached for the weapon. Beth gave it up without a fight, and they shared a knowing look.

“Let’s get out of here,” She quickly turned to you and grabbed your bicep. You nervously glanced between her and Rio, who began to bleed out. Fuck. Fuck. There was no way you were going to let him just— die...

You proceeded to free yourself from Beth’s grasp, “I’m not leaving him.”

The red-head scoffed, “Are you kidding me y/n?! He’s made our life hell, and now we’re free! We’re finally free!”

“I’m not leaving him,” you repeated, “No-one deserves to die alone.”

She gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Whatever. Suit yourself,” and with that you watched her leave.

Your fight or flight instincts kicked in as soon as she was out of sight. Within a split second, you were kneeling by Rio’s side and hastily slipping off your zip-up hoodie while you assessed his vast injuries.

You curled up the soft material into a ball and pressed it to his largest wound, carefully moving his hands out of the way. Rio flinched at your touch, his eyes lazily finding yours. He looked genuinely scared, your heart ached.

You forced a smile.

“Hey, hey. Rio. Hey, it’s going to be okay. Everything will be just fine...” you quietly reassured, desperately wanting for the words to be true.

Slowly, you moved your free hand to cup his cheek, wiping away any blood with shaky fingers. “You gotta hang on, okay? There are many people that care about you...”

He hung his head and chuckled softly, gagging on his own blood in the process, “T-there uh ain’t a soul that cares about me, ma-ama.”

You shook your head, “That’s not true. I care.”

His lips arched into a half-smile before his eyes trembled closed.

Letting out a hushed sob, you inclined your head in the direction of Agent Turner, “Ehm… I-I don’t exactly know what your protocol is in situations like this but-uhm, but could you maybe give us a minute?”

The man eyed you silently for a moment, and it wasn’t until you let the tears you were holding back finally escape, that he gave in.

“I have a couple of calls to make,” he excused himself and disappeared into a closed-off room at the far end of the floor.

When you heard the door click, you snapped your focus back to Rio, “We have to hurry. Do you think you can stand up?” you whispered, causing him to open his eyes.

Rio coughed, “Y-you should-d leave…”

“I’m only leaving if it’s with you.”

Noticing the determination in your eyes, Rio didn’t dare to protest again. Carefully, you helped him up on his feet. He draped one arm around your shoulders, his fingers now intertwined with yours, while you slid one arm behind his back. The other hand made home on his chest, the red liquid oozing between your fingers.

If the circumstances were any different, perhaps you would have realised the two of you have never stood this close to one another. If the circumstances were any different, perhaps you would have recognised the feeling in the pit of your stomach as more than adrenaline. No, it was something much stronger.

“We have to be quick,” you reminded him in a murmur and Rio groaned in response. “And as quiet as possible,” you added.

Surprisingly, it didn’t take long to get him in the car, which was conveniently left open and parked right outside the front of the building. You helped him in the back seat and fumbled through his jacket in search for the keys.

Before closing the door and jumping in the front seat, your gaze lingered on your hoodie which he continued to press to one of his wounds. The once grey garment was now completely red, borderlining on brown.

Your eyes moved to Rio’s face, all bloody and paler than you’ve ever seen him. Swallowing your breath at the sight, you seriously hoped you had enough time to save him.

~~~

Someone was squeezing his hand.

Every part of him hurt, deep throbbing pain, yet all he really felt was the gentle grip around his fingers. It was nice. Soothing even. A feeling he could definitely get used to.

It took all the strength he had to open his eyes. He took a moment to adjust to the light before analysing his surroundings. The room was unfamiliar, and normally that would be a red flag, yet instead of thinking about where the fuck he was, his gaze focused on the person holding his hand. You.

You were sleeping. Propped on a chair pushed in close to the bed he currently lay in, your head resting on your own arm, while the other hand was glued to his. You looked exhausted, although, he deducted, still a million times better than him.

And as he observed you silently, a small smile creeping up on his features, you fluttered your eyes open.

“Oh thank god, you’re awake.”

“H-hey…” Rio croaked, while you slowly sat up.

Your grasp left his, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t instantly miss the sensation. Thankfully, you didn’t go anywhere. Instead, you reached for the glass of water on the bedside table and helped him take a sip.

“How are you feeling?” you asked. The tone of your voice filled with genuine concern, and he suddenly remembered how you told him you cared about him. He wondered whether that was true. You did get him out of there, save his life. That had to count for something, right?

“Like I’d been shot three times, mama.” Rio replied, lips twirling into a smirk.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Guess you’re all better if you’re making jokes about this.”

“Not the first time I was shot, won’t be the last.”

Rio was quick to notice you didn’t appreciate his response. Your usually soft features, hardened, and tears formed in the corners of your eyes. He reached out a shaky hand to grab yours, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Where are we?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Someplace safe. Someplace no one will find us,”

“So—“

“No one knows we’re here,” you reassured, “Or… uhm… t-that you’re alive,” you added, nervously glancing down at his hand attached to yours. People don’t usually take news of their death well.

However, Rio didn’t seem to mind, “Good, mama. That’s real good.”

There was a brief moment of silence. Rio’s attention was solely focused on you, taking in every inch of your perfect face, while you rubbed circles into the palm of his hand. He could tell you were deep in thought, as you chewed on your bottom lip. What you were thinking however, contradicted the bravery you’ve felt since the shooting. Suddenly, you were afraid of the consequences of your actions. Afraid of what’s to come.

“What will happen now?” you wondered out loud, hesitantly meeting Rio’s gaze.

“You saved my life, mama. No matter what happens, I’ll protect you.”

The promise made your heart flutter. Something about having him on your side, looking out for you, was exhilarating. The sensation didn’t last long however, as you remembered how you landed in this situation.

“What about Beth? And the others?” you enquired, because you cared about them and despite Beth’s mistake, you wouldn’t want something bad happening.

“Don’t you worry your pretty head about them.”

“But you won’t do anyth—“

“Come here,” Rio cut you off. He patted the spot on the bed next to him and patiently waited for you to abide.

A few days ago, you wouldn’t have. A few days ago, you wouldn’t be half as complacent around the charming crook. Having him almost bleed out in your arms however, well… that changes things. It definitely affected how you feel about him and how much you’re willing to show it.

After making yourself comfortable, you gently placed your head on his shoulders, carefully so as to not irritate any of his injuries. He licked his lips, smiling to himself, because he too felt different about you. Stronger.

Rio placed a delicate kiss on top of your head. “You’re my girl now,” he murmured into your hair. The proclamation caused you to look up at him. A mix of adoration and confusion spread across your features, as you met his inviting gaze.

“You’re the only one who’s important to me, mama.”

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rio (good girls) taglist: @fictionalhoomanofnowhere (tag not working)