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mrs-hatake · 3 years ago

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calling in sick

pairing: kakashi x female reader

genre: fluff, sick fic, terrible attempt at humor.

warning: brief mentions of nightmares and anxieties. not proof read

a/n: y'all idek what this is, my fingers wrote this themselves and I just went along with it. very self insert because I'm sick and wish I had kakashi with me but instead I have Advil and some low fat cookies

Tik tok

Goes the alarm clock on the bedside table as Y/N tosses and turns in bed, failing to chase that little semblance of sleep.

When it is finally clear to her that she will not be sleeping any time soon, she huffs in defeat and slides her hand under her pillow to pull out her phone. She silently thanks herself for always having the brightness of her screen on the lowest amount possible so when she unlocks her phone, she doesn't squint her eyes at the harsh brightness. But she doesn’t groan when she reads the time, four in the morning.

Great, just great.

Just before she went to bed last night, a little someone decided to pay her a visit, aka her period. Thankfully, the cramps weren’t too severe and she managed to sleep through the pain. But her slumber was restless as she kept waking up every few hours, checking her clock to make sure she doesn’t sleep through her alarm.

Y/N contemplates if she should call in sick today but it’s still way too early to make that decision. Instead, she scrolls through tiktok for about an hour before trying her luck with sleep.

She fails. Epically.

Tossing her blanket away in frustration, she sits up in bed but had to ground herself at the sudden dizzy spell. Once her world stopped spinning, she made her way to the bathroom. On her way, she yawns and feels a slight stabbing pain at the back of her throat. She clears it to soothe the pain away but she feels it again when she swallows.

No, no, no! Please don’t let it be a cold. PLEASE!

Y/N completes her morning routine but skips taking a tower, deeming herself too tired to even wash herself.

Her breakfast is light, a mini croissant with chocolate filling and pineapple juice. It was very difficult for her to keep down as she was overwhelmed with nausea.

Nope. She is definitely calling in sick today. She’s just way too tired and too sleepy to go to work and deal with twelve screaming children.

After texting principale Tsunade and informing her of her condition, Y/N returns to bed to try one last time if she could go back to sleep.

No such luck as her mind is flooded with anxious thoughts and whenever she closes her eyes, she sees a burst of yellow followed by black and red dots. If not those then she’d see disfigured creatures, inching closer and closer until they’re just an inch away from her face.

Yeah, no thanks. She’d rather stay awake than dealing with that shit again. Something she had experienced since her college days. She aptly blames it on her period.

Y/N checks her phone to see if she has received a reply from Tsunade but when she sees no notifications on her phone, she drags her exhausted body to the living room, and plops onto her couch, bundled up in her favorite fuzzy blanket.

She briefly wonders if her co-workers noticed her absence yet. School is about to start in ten minutes and she’s normally there half an hour before school starts. She’d go early to avoid traffic and to grab a cup of coffee and a bag of mini cookies to snack on throughout the day. Often, she’d be found reading a book while waiting for the other teachers to arrive at the teaching lounge.

She memorized who comes in after her.

Gai usually comes in about ten minutes after her, makes his usual green tea and proceeds to do a quick and light morning workout while waiting for his tea to cool down.

Then walks in Kurenai looking as impeccable as always. And just a few minutes later, Asuma walks in looking as if he was forced out of bed and he’d rather be anywhere but there.

And last but not least, in walks in Hatake Kakashi with just thirty seconds left before the morning bell. He’d greet everyone with a small wave but his eyes meet Y/N, they’d crinkle up in a smile and she’d shyly, but brightly, return his smile.

Y/N spends that morning watching an anime about a babysitting club where there isn’t a specific plot really, just babies learning about random aspects of life while looking super cute. She coos and coughs and laughs when something funny happens even though she had already watched that anime four times alone this year and ten times last year. It’s her comfort anime, sue her.

She must’ve fallen asleep somewhere around the fifth episode as she blearily opens her eyes and notices that the show has stopped playing.

There’s pounding in her ears and she dismisses it as a headache, courtesy to her period, when she realizes that the sound is coming from her living room door.

Expression turned into confusion, she glances at the wall clock and reads it as a little bit quarter past twelve.

Huh, must be one of her pre-ordered deliveries finally being delivered. She sluggishly gets up from the couch and makes her way to the front door, uncaring of her messy appearance.

Though, had she known just who was behind the door, she would’ve definitely cared and even bothered to look presentable.

“Kakashi?” Y/N calls his name in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. “What are you doing here? What about school?”

“It’s lunch break right now.” He replies as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You weren’t there at work this morning and Tsunade told us you were sick so I...just wanted to…” his words died down and if you paid close attention, you could see tiny specks of pink blush flushing his cheeks in embarrassment.

“Oh.” Your cheeks flush in a deeper red color when you realize that Kakashi was trying to tell you that he wanted to check in on you.

“I bought soup!” He randomly holds the container, as if he was showing her evidence of his word. “And some medicine.”

It takes a minute for her to absorb the situation she’s in but when she does, she smiles softly at him, heart fluttering at his concern.

“Thanks, Kakashi. That’s so sweet of you.”

Kakashi’s blush deepns and his senses scream at him to run away but before he could bolt, he hastily throws out a, “I hope you’ll feel better soon! The kids are worried about you and they miss you too!” and he’s off.

Blinking at the empty spot, Y/N chuckles under her breath at Kakashi’s endearing awkwardness before closing the door.

As Y/N makes her way to the kitchen to heat up the soup in the microwave, her phone dings, indicating that she has a new text message.

Closing the microwave door, she is surprised, yet touched to see so many of her colleagues had texted her with well wishes. But before she could reply to any of them, she clicks on her latest message, which funnily enough, was from Kakashi.

By kids I mean me

His message read.

And just as you begin to type in a witty reply, to tease him about his little confession, Kakashi sends in another message.

The kids are worried and miss you too but I am the most.

And another message follows that one.

Also Naruto said he won’t forgive you for making him worry unless you make it up for him with Ichiraku’s ramen

He also said to invite me too

Oh, you’re definitely going to tease Kakashi about his weird weird way of asking you out on a date. If you could call taking one of your students out for lunch and your crush accompanying you then, yeah, sure, why not? It’s a date.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi x y/n #kakashi imagine

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sully-999 · 3 years ago

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Mickey and the Gallaghers Part 2

This might be the lowest point of his life he thinks. Even on the lowest points of his alcoholism and all the shit with college and Helene he was only really fucking up his own life.

But now, shit was different. He had 3 (potentially 4) people that depended on him. He had no job, no stable income, and no potential leads to other opportunities.

They had decided not to sell the house to Shelby and to wait for another bigger offer to come in. The Gallagher house had survived and been their shelter their entire lives. Lip was sure it would continue to be, but now they had less furniture, fewer appliances, and worst of all no fucking hot water.

He was at a loss. Desperation filled every cell of his body. Even if he worked on this stupid delivery job all day he couldn’t front the expenses to repair the pipes or the water heater.

Lip was a hustler. He knew what he could do to come up with the money. Less than legal ways to do it. But after the whole Born Free debacle, he had sworn to Tami that he wouldn’t do anything that could potentially affect them. Regardless, things were still too hot with the police still sniffing around.

He knew Ian and even Carl could lend him some money but he couldn’t find a fiber in his body that made him want to ask them. He was supposed to be the big brother, the protector. How the fuck did it all come to this?

He was so involved in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps climbing up the porch stairs. With his head on his palms, he only saw the combat boots and thought it was Ian but when he looked up he saw instead his brother-in-law looking at him with an inquisitive face.

“Hey man, what’s up?” “Ian sent me to pick up some shit he left in the room.” “Oh ok” “He’s at fucking Yoga class or some shit” “Wow in true west side fashion”

They stayed in awkward silence for a while. Lip and Mickey had known each other for years. They had done some crazy things when they were younger and normally had a decent relationship. After the fight, things got better but sometimes they still had awkward moments.

“Sooo, I’m going in” “Yeah yeah go ahead”

Mickey knew Lip was going through a hard time. Not only had he shared with Ian all that was pestering him, but Mickey could just see it. Lip’s cocky attitude and know-it-all fuckery were toned down and he was often quieter, observant. The years of the college boy in the Ivy?... What was it?.. Ivory? Ivory Tower were long gone and Lip was back to being full south side trying to make ends meet.

Mickey entered the house and couldn’t find anyone inside. The kitchen was still a mess and it seemed like Lip attempted to work on the pipes while still trying to paint and do touch-ups around the first floor. He picked up the stuff Ian had asked for and since no one was there he made his way back to the door. He heard Lip on the phone trying to get a quote for the repairs so he just waved and kept walking.

As Mickey drove back to the apartment he couldn’t get the image of Lip with his head in his hands sitting on the porch. He was alone since Tami and Fred were still at her dad’s and he looked plain miserable. He remembered the brilliant guy that tutored Ian when he wanted to go to West Point. The one with the bright future when all the other Gallagher siblings seemed screwed for life. The one that acted like a punk but always gave his all for his family.

Family. He shouldn’t give a fuck but Mickey feels restless.

He knew that if Ian offered him the money he wouldn’t accept it, even miserable Phillip was too fucking proud for that. Ian had told Mickey that he offered his share of the house if it sold and Lip had said no.

As Mickey entered the new apartment he didn’t feel like he could sit down. He walked around, cleaned up, turned the TV on trying to occupy his mind. Instead, he thought about Fred, about Tami, about Liam. His mind took him to think about Yevgeny and all the scams they did to put food on the table at the Milkovich house.

He went back to the bedroom rushing. He entered the walk-in closet and stretched to find a dark blue carton box. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down an amount of money and an “I O U” below it. Here he was, again. This time he would tell Ian...eventually.

Last time had been too complicated. There were so many little things that Mickey had almost lost track of where all the money had gone. Liam’s new graphing calculator, Franny’s after-school clubs, Tami’s last bill from the hospital, Carl’s required duty belt, the anniversary party.

He picked up his phone and dialed one of his contacts. “Hey, I have a job for you…”

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Lip was coming back home from making deliveries and upon opening the door he was faced with 2 guys cleaning up debris from the floor.

“Who the fuck are you?” he said startled. The 2 men looked at Lip and started speaking Spanish explaining something Lip couldn’t understand. Finally, they pointed at the water heater and one of them opened the kitchen faucet. As warm water started coming out a confused expression grew on Lip’s face. The men finished up cleaning and waved goodbye to Lip. He was dumbstruck.

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Ian and Mickey were making dinner when Ian’s phone rang. Mickey could only hear Ian’s responses to the call but he automatically knew who was calling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...They were just randomly inside the house?... I would have told you asshole!... Maybe Debbie?”

As Ian continued his conversation, Mickey kept chopping the beloved tomatoes from the garden.

“That’s awesome though, do you guys need help moving Tami and Fred back in? Ok, let me know what you find out. Bye.”

“Lip says someone came to fix the pipes and reconnected the gas so they finally have hot water.”

“Mhm,” Mickey was trying his hardest to avoid meeting his husband's eyes. He could lie his way from any situation but he couldn’t, for the life of him, lie to Ian.

Ian eyed him suspiciously “Do you know anything about this?”

Mickey ignored him but Ian knew something was up. He kept probing him until he broke.

“You can’t say anything to him Red” “Why?” “Because he would be embarrassed and would try to pay us back. You had offered him money before and he refused but he needed help Ian.” “Why didn’t you tell ME anything then?” “Cause you couldn’t have kept the secret and Lip would have stopped us!”

Ian knew he had a point...“Where did you get the money?” he asked next. “...” “Mickey…” “The honeymoon fund man. I’m sorry I know we promised to talk to one another and have a mutual understanding and all that shit but Ian...family is family” He said harshly. After a moment Ian smiled and kissed him sweetly. “Family is family” he repeated grinning.

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They hosted the next family dinner at the Gallagher house. As the kids played games and Debbie and Ian helped Tami to set the table Lip approached Mickey giving him a beer.

The two men kept looking at the kids and relaxed in comfortable silence. “I’m glad you’re part of our family Mickey”

Mickey nodded without facing him and without saying a word cheered his beer to Lip’s pop.

He was too.

#gallavich #gallavich fanfic #ian and mickey #this came out way longer than anticipated.

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poetrusicperry · 3 years ago

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Running Towards Nothing

Chapter One

a/n: hello !! @noelliza and i fleshed out an idea about if todd came from out of state (specifically, somewhere in the southern united states) to attend welton, so i wrote it heh. i’m not sure how many parts this will be (if people like it enough for me to continue posting lol), but i have the first like... five written haha. so yes, todd is from the south (alabama) and i don’t know much about the south bc i'm from the west coast, but i tried haha. hope you guys like it !! xx

chapter summary: something in todd’s past is the reason for his family’s move, leading to a new neighborhood, a new school, a roommate he was never expecting, and an overall shift in his life.

pairing: todd anderson x neil perry

warnings: none (i don’t think there are any in this chapter, but if anyone spots something, let me know !)

word count: 2479

–

If there was one thing Todd missed about home, it was the sky; the sun set differently over the rolling hills of Vermont than the grassy fields of Alabama. He was used to seeing all of the elongated, blue canvas sky that melted into bright shades of pink and orange along the horizon; there was nothing in the way of the creation, just a plain view of where the heavens met the earth. In the northeast, however, the sunset snagged on the seemingly-black pointed edges of trees and lush branches, interrupting the gradient leaving only soft blue and speckles of marigold.

But he had experienced his last Alabama sunset two days ago, and there was no going back. Not for a really, really long time (if ever). After the events of the past few months, there was no way Todd could ever show his face again, even if he really wanted to. Now, Todd Anderson and his family were living in the suburbs of Vermont, where, as his parents hoped, the past would stay hidden and they could build a new façade for the one Todd had recently, though unintentionally, demolished.

As Todd sat on the floor of his new, empty room, surrounded only by boxes and his bed (which didn’t have a box spring or frame yet), he gazed out of his window forlornly. Through the toothbrush-tipped trees that were jam packed along his new horizon, he could make out the silhouette of a church’s steeple. One that, no doubt, would be frequented by his mother and father while his brother, Jeffrey, was out of state at college, and Todd himself attended the prep school just a few blocks down the road. Out of all the cities in Vermont, Todd’s parents had picked the one with the lowest population and tourist pull, which meant not a lot of people inhabiting the city. However, on the flipside, there wasn’t a wide variety of schools to choose from. Back in Alabama, Todd had attended his local public high school, Nixon, and would have been an incoming senior there if certain... events hadn’t occurred. Instead, Todd was now forced to continue his education at what was deemed “the best all boys prep school in the United States” by his parents and surrounding boarding schools (no pressure).

Todd’s mind wandered through the recent weeks, pulling apart everything that had happened like rotten cotton candy. This was his life now: a new state, a new town, a new school, brand new everything. And yet, Todd felt stuck between wanting to start over and aching to hold onto his old life. If those five seconds could have gone differently, he’d be preparing for his first day of senior year with all his friends at Nixon. But his friends would never speak to him again, and he’d never walk the halls of Nixon High School ever again. Todd wondered what he could possibly be holding onto? There was nothing in a place he considered home and nothing in a new place that would likely never be home. So much of his past, he wanted to leave behind, but he just… knew that he couldn’t.

As he reached into the open box beside him, there was a knock on the door. When Todd didn’t answer, the door cracked open, revealing the familiar face of his older brother.

“Hey, I was going to go on a drive around town, maybe see some of the cool hangout spots if you wanted to come. I know I’m leaving for school in a couple weeks, but might as well check out some places anyway?”

Jeff always had a way of talking to Todd gently, never with any hints of condescension in his tone. After all, Jeff was the only person in the house who ever acknowledged Todd’s existence. And after everything that had happened, Todd was certain he was no closer to gaining support from his parents than a couple months prior; in fact, he’d been quite sure he was further from garnering any cent of respect, let alone support.

“Oh, uh… right now?” Todd spoke, barely above a whisper. He knew he didn’t need to feel embarrassed or nervous around Jeff, but that’s just how things were for him now. Anything he said or did felt… wrong, and he didn’t know how to fix it.

“Yeah, I think Mom and Dad went to pick up some dinner, so I was just thinking that we could head out for a few minutes. Maybe get a little familiar with town and stuff,” Jeff smiled at Todd, his perfectly straight teeth somehow still gleaming in the darkening light of Todd’s room, “Come on, I know you probably don’t feel up to it, but it’d be better than sitting in here while it progressively gets darker,” Jeff attempted to joke, laughing slightly.

Todd gave him a half smile, half grimace, “Alright. Think I need a jacket?”

“Want to drive with the top down, so probably,” Jeff smiled, smacking the doorway and turning down the hallway, “Leaving in five!” he called down the hall as he went.

While they rode leisurely around town, Todd kept his head mostly turned to the side, leaning his cheek on his arm and taking in all the things they drove past. Lots of houses on moderate pieces of land lined the streets; they were nothing like the spacious farms and open pastures of Alabama. Up until recently, Todd had always considered the south home. But truth be told, he wasn’t sure what home was anymore.

“Oh, sweet, Todd, look! There’s an arcade!” Jeff patted Todd’s shoulder with the back of his hand as he cruised down the street. The big neon lights were hanging over a brick building spelling “GAMES & POOL.” It looked like the marquees Todd had seen of New York City in the magazines. He just nodded at his brother’s sentiment as they pulled up to the red light. Glancing up at the bright sign once more, his gaze was torn away when the door to the arcade opened, revealing five lanky boys spilling out onto the sidewalk.

“I told you I was going to beat the high score and you punks didn’t believe me!” one with sandy hair said, walking backwards and facing his friends. His face was twisted into a mischievous grin and his voice ricocheted across the street as the boys seemed to be making their way to the movie theatre a few doors down.

“Charlie, no one cares that you beat the high score,” the tallest one replied; Todd noticed he had a flattop haircut, which is something no one in Alabama would have ever had; Todd thought it looked neat. The flattop’s sentiment earned a chuckle from all the boys, but a particularly loud laugh from a tall, dark-haired boy standing toward the front of the group. He wore beige slacks and a tucked in red flannel with black and white hi-top Chuck Taylor’s. And Todd noticed his dimples were deep into his cheeks while he laughed. As the boys walked down the sidewalk to the theatre ticket vestibule, the light turned green and Jeff began to drive. As the car passed the group, the dark-haired boy looked up and locked eyes with Todd.

“Neil, still five for Gidget?” the ginger one with glasses said. The dark-haired boy (who Todd could now assume was Neil) held Todd’s gaze for a couple more seconds before tearing his eyes away and nodding at his friend. Todd’s cheeks were ablaze as Jeff drove further away. Trying to not move his head, Todd simply looked back at the boys in the side mirror until they were simply blobbed figures standing under the light of the theatre.

When Todd and Jeff arrived home, their parents’ car was in the driveway, and the light in the kitchen was on.

“Hope you’re hungry,” Jeff turned to Todd as he switched the engine off. He just looked at Jeff blankly; his appetite had still not returned, so he didn’t feel hungry much anymore, “I know I am,” Jeff smiled, ruffling Todd’s hair and easing the tension between them. He nodded a little bit and opened the door, Jeff doing the same. As Jeff made his way up the steps, Todd trailed behind him, not wanting to be the first person his parents saw.

“Jeffy, is that you?” his mother’s voice called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom, we just went to check out the neighborhood a bit,” Jeff called, slowing his pace, falling into step with Todd and slinging his arm around his little brother’s shoulder.

“Dinner’s on the table, dear,” she replied as the boys walked into the dining room.

“Smells good, Ma,” Jeff smiled, taking his seat at the table after patting Todd’s shoulder. Todd sat down tentatively and stared at the spread in front of him. His parents had gotten KFC for the second night in a row, and Todd was about as excited as he was the first time (that being not at all).

“I know we had it last night, but it really just reminds me of the food back home,” his mother said, pulling her napkin into her lap.

“You boys eat up, now,” his father said, gesturing to the bucket of chicken and sides in front of the pair. Jeff grabbed his food, and took extra care to offer Todd all of the things he picked up for himself. While their parents busied themselves in a conversation about the pie their neighbors had dropped off, Jeff nudged Todd lightly,

“Look, I know you’re not hungry, but have a biscuit at least, okay?” he muttered and held one out to his younger brother. Todd took it hesitantly, put it in the middle of his plate, and stared at it, “Come on, Todd. Please,” Jeff mumbled again.

“What’s that, Jeffrey?” his father turned to him.

“Oh, nothing, Pop, just telling Todd to have some dinner,” Jeff smiled small. Todd’s father looked at him with disgust.

“Eat,” he grunted. At the timbre of his father’s voice, Todd flinched slightly and picked off a part of the biscuit to nibble on while the conversation turned to Jeff’s plans for the fall semester. Fading into the background (as usual), Todd tuned out the conversation and focused really hard on his white Chuck Taylor’s, getting a flash of the tall, dark-haired boy’s face in his mind. Neil. Shaking his head slightly, Todd adjusted his gaze to the plate in front of him and waited for another painful dinner to end.

When the summer had wound down and the weeks in Vermont had become more familiar, Todd’s parents had busied themselves with getting Jeff ready for dorm move-in and paying little, if any, attention to Todd. Currently, Todd was up in his room, preparing for convocation the next day. Jeffrey had left the past Thursday, driving up on his own. He had told Todd to not take everything so seriously and to do the best he could (because he knew that Todd was capable of a lot of things). He also mentioned that he was just a call away if Todd ever needed anything (he wrote his telephone number onto a scrap of paper). Todd had searched the arcade and the theatre a couple times in the hopes of running into the group of boys he had seen on their second night in town, but to no avail.

Sitting in front of the mirror, Todd analyzed himself. His hair had grown out kind of long, and his mother hadn’t taken him to get it cut, so he’d have to deal with that, but everything else looked normal. Things certainly didn’t feel normal, but he was used to the discomfort by now. The only thing he was truly worried about was his stupid accent. He’d spent the last few weeks hanging around diners and spots with Jeff, and hadn’t heard a single southern accent. He knew his drawl would just make him appear stupid to all these super educated kids, so he’d put a lot of effort into controlling it. He was actually doing okay at it, he just needed to make sure he didn’t slip up. Todd didn’t need any aspect of his personality or appearance to be called attention to. He got up from the floor and crawled into bed, dreading what the next day and year would bring.

Convocation turtled by, two hours of sitting in a church pew and listening to some headmaster spout of statistics that Todd didn’t care about. As far as he was concerned, he wanted to finish his senior year and get the hell out of here; Todd had always wanted to go to California, but his parents told him it was a pipe dream (“After the stunt you pulled in Alabama, we won’t be funding your college anywhere!” his father had yelled).

“Ah, Mr. Anderson, is it?” the headmaster questioned when it was Todd’s turn to be introduced after the ceremony.

“U-uh, yes sir,” he mumbled.

“Well, we don’t normally take public school transfers, but you will fit in well here. Any major problems you let me know,” he shook Todd’s hand rather harshly.

“Thank you, sir,” he nodded and moved along.

Feeling his chest start to tighten, Todd made his way out onto the grass where he sat down against a tree and waited for his parents. After an uncomfortable and awkward goodbye with them, he roamed the grounds a little bit, practicing his newly-fashioned accent quietly to himself. As he rounded a corner to the courtyard, he bumped shoulders with a boy, and turned to apologize, dead-set on making his southern accent unknown (or as unknown as it could be).

“Ope- sorry about that,” the boy laughed nervously. When Todd looked up at him, it was the boy from outside the arcade all those weeks ago. Shit.

“S-sorry,” Todd mumbled. The boy nodded a little bit.

“It’s all good. I’m Neil Perry,” he smiled, holding out his hand, seemingly unaware or forgetting of the fact that they’d seen each other before.

“Todd Anderson,” he manipulated his tongue to sit flatter in his mouth, so as not to let slip his Alabaman background. He had trouble looking into Neil’s eyes, but when he got a good look, he realized they were dark, dark brown and incredibly deep.

“Oh, that’s you? I think that makes us roommates,” Neil said, patting Todd on the shoulder. Oh no, Todd thought, his cheeks flushing. Stop it, he thought to himself and cleared his throat.

“Oh… cool,” Todd nodded a little bit and pursed his lips.

“I gotta get going. See you soon!” he patted Todd’s shoulder again and took off in the direction he had been going when Todd bumped into him.

Yep, Todd sighed. This is going to be a long year.

tagging some people (especially those of you who said i should post this heh): @queertoddanderson @babytoddanderson @cupiiid @justarandompjofan @charliedaltonofficial @pretentious-strikes @aedan-mills

and a big thank you to @noelliza as always bc she’s the best and reads all my stuff before i even think about putting it anywhere on the internet lol <3

#dead poets society #anderperry #neil perry and todd anderson #todd anderson #neil perry #angelina writes

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kelpiemomma · 2 years ago

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You don't have to respond to this as I'm sure you're busy but I just wanted to take the time to say a big thank you for all of your dad Ingo fics, especially Lifetime Guarantee in particular. Sorry if this is a bit cheesy or too much but I don't exactly have the best relationship with my family. I've been suffering with some major depression and low self esteem because of it. It's taken a very hard toll on me. I relate to Akari in these stories very deeply and the idea that despite everything, she has people who care about her and won't let her suffer alone despite how she may feel she deserves to is very comforting and gives me hope that one day, I'll find people who care about me too. I've read through all your dad Ingo fics countless times and I find something new to like about it each time. Waiting for Jumping The Rails and Arms Outstretched to update, among other things, have kept me going this past week or so while I wait to bounce back out of my low point. Getting that notification brings the brightest of smiles to my face. (With that being said though, please take breaks and try not to push yourself too hard 💜)

I might leave a message for a lil bit, especially if I'm working on something for it, but I always try to respond!!! Responding to people is important to me 😂💚

I am honestly so stinking touched by the fact that people who have some sort of problem with their family or issue with their family find comfort in my fics 🥺 The fact that people find comfort in my fics at all is just. Amazing to me. I don't know how to describe it 😅 I have fics that I go to for comfort but when I started writing again I never thought that the ones I wrote would be someone else's comfort fic fajdskfls 🥺 Whenever I get a comment about how people are rereading any of them I have to stop and think like, really? Mine? My fics? Rereading? Mine? 😂 I cannot express how happy I am that people can relate to the Akari I write and that she can help bring relief and hope for a better future!!

I had some pretty nasty depression as a teenager and the only thing that got me through high school in one piece was my horse 😅 I don't like to whinge on the internet but I had an older brother who'd failed high school that my parents compared me to, my dad was threatening to sell my horse if my grades slipped, and my mom was intent on me getting into college, I lost one group of friends and was somewhat of an outcast with another group- the only thing that kept me sane and in one piece was Simon. I won't go into details but I truly don't know where I'd be without him, he was always my bright spot at my lowest points. So I know what you mean, to an extent, about difficult family relationships and the emotions it causes and finding the bright spots in them. It just baffles me, in a good way!, to understand that my fics are someone's Simon. It genuinely brings me to tears to realize that 😂

I'm currently focusing on the next chapter of Arms Outstretched, because I'm most excited for it! The 8-10k chapter/week of JtR burned me out a little, and I've gotten myself distracted by artfight and several AUs, but the fics are my priorities. Work slows down this month so I'm hoping to focus on writing more before it picks up next month 🤞🤞

To help get you through, here's a small snippet of Arms Outstretched:

“No, not at all. It’s just- that’s stuff that people who specialize in our history know more about. Cynthia has told me all about it, of course, but that’s not something that most out-of-regioners are interested in. It’s impressive that you know that information. Do you know anything else?”

Ingo raised a hand to his chest, where his heart was pounding and almost painful. He felt a deep fissure of unease, as if bringing it up made him think of… of a time he had known it much more intimately. It was like he knew the stress of watching someone walk away to do their survey work first-hand, knowing that they might not come back. “It must have been… frightening for those in their families, to have members in the Survey Corps when it was so dangerous.”

“Yeah… Captain Cyllene eventually managed to persuade Commander Kamado to send people out in groups from two to five, but it was a hard won battle. Apparently, one of Professor Laventon’s main assistants almost got killed during an expedition. He got severely injured, enough to end his career, and it was Professor Laventon’s anger because if he’d been with a human partner he would have never been injured so badly. Records show that Professor Laventon actually yelled at Commander Kamado!” Dawn shared, gesturing towards the building. “It’s crazy to think that it used to house several offices, a lab, an infirmary, and so much more… all in one building! Now we have our apartments, our hospitals, our pokemon centers… everything is separated. I wonder what it was like to have it all in one place.”

Loud, Ingo thought, loud and sometimes frightening. To report in to Cyllene and hear someone screaming in the infirmary was enough to rattle almost everyone.

And also, here's the horse who kept me from pulling stupid shit! I miss him every day 💚

#kelp tracks #asked and answered #anon answered #Simon

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huntertales · 4 years ago

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Part Two: Vices And Virtues. (Rock And A Hard Place S09E08)

Episode Summary: Sheriff Jody Mills enlists the help of Y/N and the Winchesters to help investigate multiple kidnappings that belonged to the same chastity group. The three decide to infiltrate the group for themselves. But things go wrong when Y/N and Dean disappear. Sam and Jody must rescue them before it’s too late. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Warning: Descriptions of intimacy Word Count: 5,728.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

A/N: I tried something with this part...don’t know if it’s gonna come out good or totally suck. Obviously you guys know what you’re getting yourself into with the context of this episode. I really didn’t know how to add proper warning that would make sense, so bare with me. Obviously read at your own discretion. I hope you guys enjoy!

You'd do just about anything for a hunt if it meant an innocent life could be saved from disaster, or worse, death. YAnd you did your fair share of stupid things over the years. Sitting here in an abstinence support group after regaining your virginity was on the top of the list. You sat on one of the fold-out wooden chairs and patiently waited for your first and only meeting of "Abstinence Purifies Us" to begin. It seemed the group was going to be much larger than you realized it was going to be when you saw a crowd of women come into the room designated for things such as this. What you noticed right away when everyone formed a circle to start the meeting was that there was not a single man in sight besides the brothers.

While you continued waiting, you went on thinking about how regaining your virginity at your age would be slightly strange as well, presuming almost all of the group in the group were going to be those who were high school aged to some in their twenties. You were a bit surprised to see a few who appeared to be possibly other than you. Perhaps they were like you, born-again virgins like you who wanted a fresh start in life. You folded your hands in your lap and patiently waited for everyone to join and get started.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I’m Suzy.” The woman sitting at the head of the circle spoke up and introduced herself after spotting a few new faces in the group. “I’d thought we’d begin with a silent prayer for our missing friends.”

You and Sam closed your eyes and lowered your head out of respect for everyone else when they did the same. Dean didn't see much of the point, seeming to be lost in his own personal thoughts when he stared at Suzy to follow her directions. You opened your eyes to check up on Dean, only to see he was being stubborn as usual. You cleared your throat and shot him a warning glare to play along. He quickly did as everyone else, knowing it was better to go along with the part without causing too much suspension. You rolled your eyes before shutting them again for a few more seconds before Suzy concluded the prayer.

“Now,” Suzy finally moved on to the actual beginning of the meeting after getting the formalities out of the way. “Does anyone have anything they’d like to share?”

"I wrote a new piece of verse." A young woman eagerly raised her hand, deciding to go before anyone else could try. She picked up a pink piece of paper and stood up from her seat. "It's called 'Sex is a racket, and God's ball is in your tennis court."

You were expecting to hear all sorts of different things during this meeting, but that one not one of them. You had to cover your hand with your mouth to keep the smile that crossed your face from showing how ridiculous the work sounded. You quickly composed yourself when you caught the disapproving shake of the head from Sam. You wanted to hear what was written, but it seemed Suzy declined the offer, not wanting to hear it today. It seemed she was trying to save the new members from not coming back next time for a bad first experience.

“And we would love to hear that, Tammy—later.” Suzy politely shot down the woman from letting her read to the group. You swore a few people seemed relieved at not being forced to listen to another one of the woman’s works. Tammy's smile slowly fell from her lips at being shot down from her writing she spent working so hard on. She sank down to her seat as Suzy directed her attention to you and the boys. “Why don’t we hear from our new friends? Sam, what brought you here to reclaim your virginity?”

You looked over at the younger Winchester to hear his response. He suddenly appeared to be a deer in headlights when everyone's eyes landed on him, curious to see what his answer was going to be. He wasn't sure what to say, in all honesty, he decided to go with the truth. "Well, I guess because every woman I've ever had relations with, uh...it...hasn't ended well."

“He’s not lying.” You mumbled to yourself, knowing from personal experience. It seemed your comment didn’t go unnoticed from the man himself. You turned your head to see his infamous bitch face flash in your direction. “What? Sorry, Sammy, but it’s the truth.”

“Thank you for sharing, Sam. Stay strong. Stay pure.” Suzy said. The motto was chanted by everyone else in the group before the next person was up to share. And from the way it seemed to be, you were up next. “What about you, Y/N? What set you on the path away from sin?”

"Well, I guess I've been doing a lot of soul searching lately. I feel at this point in my life I need a fresh start. I haven't liked the way it's turned out since I lost my virginity." You began with your reason why you were here, thinking quick on your feet for a reasonable answer. Sometimes honesty was the best policy. So you went from there. "Funny enough, I gave it up pretty late in life. I was actually a virgin up until I was twenty-seven. Sex wasn't important to me. I was focused on other things. And if I'm being honest...I was scared to give it up to anyone else. It's such an intimate thing for someone to do. Sure, some might think sex is fun, and while they—"

You wanted to say that someone had the right to have sex with whoever they wanted, a natural reaction when it came to your way of thinking. You managed to bite your tongue in time before you could say it, remembering the crowd you were speaking to. "Basically, I wasn't in a rush to lose it. But I knew who I secretly wanted to be my first."

You turned your head to look over at Dean, a smile creeping across your lips at the honesty even he didn't know about. "It was a spur of the moment kind of thing. We just said our first 'I love yous' to each other and somehow one thing led to another…and we made love in the backseat of his old Chevy. It was out in the middle of an empty field at night, just the two of us with the radio playing in the background. All of it felt perfect, if I’m being honest.”

You swore you saw a few ladies drift off into personal thought of what it might have been like. A sort of dreamy expression when they saw Dean. He looked like the kind of guy who could charm the pants off anyone. While they were saving themselves for marriage, you saw the wandering eyes, the hidden lust even they couldn't ignore. A little bit of satisfaction came over you knowing he was all yours to keep.

“I realized a lot of bad things feel good in the moment. I had to learn the hard way temptations like mine come with consequences." You went on. "I discovered mine the morning after I gave up my virginity. It turned out Dean was doing something behind my back, something that broke my heart."

"He cheated on you?" Bonnie felt the need to cut in, her pretend sympathetic expression was hidden behind a told-you-so kind of tone.

"Sure. He...cheated on me." You went on with the lie, knowing the truth would sound bonkers to these kinds of people. "Anyway, what trust I thought I had in him disappeared. Lying to me about something like that hurt me. I guess it was God's way of punishing me. But I didn't listen. I ended up doing some other things I regretted."

"This is a safe space, Y/N." Suzy reassured you after falling silent, wanting to act as if you were still guilt ridden to this very day. "Anything you admit today will not be faced with judgement. We're here to help one another. Confession can be a great way to start over."

"During our breakup, we decided to go our separate ways for a while. Dean dated a nice woman while I stayed single. However, while I tried to be good, I lost myself again to the temptation of sin. One day when I was feeling my lowest and drinking way too much. Sam and I..." The ladies all collectively raised their brows, curious and hanging off your every word about what you were going to say. You let out a sigh, pretending as if you had been holding your breath. "We had sex. I mean, it wasn't like what Dean and I had. It was mindless, rough sex. Our souls weren't in it. Sex always seems like a good idea because it feels good. That is, until you come down from the high and realize what did."

"And you never did it again?" Bonnie asked you, her little too wide-eyed stare pointed in your direction from what you admitted.

"Oh, no. We hooked up on and off for a year behind Dean's back. And we denied it every time he asked us." You said, adding fuel to the discomfort slowly growing across Bonnie's face the more she heard. "But it made me realize how much I loved my boyfriend. Whenever I slept with someone else, it didn't feel right. And I'm sure he would say the same thing with every chick he brought back from the bars before we started dating. If anything, his biggest sin would be the slew of sloppy one night stands." You turned your head and gave the older Winchester a bright smile as you reached out to grab his hand and embraced with your own. "Right, honey?"

"Thank you for that...interesting share, Y/N." Suzy said. From the looks of it, she was still trying to wrap her head around the details you painted for her and the group. Everyone chanted their slogan to you before moving on to the next person up to share. "And what about you, Dean?"

"Like my loving girlfriend has told you, I have a history of one-night stands. I wasn't a prude. To me, Sex has always felt—I don't know—good, you know? Relationships weren’t for me. It was always too...complicated. It was better to hit it and quit it.” Dean chuckled at the joke that sounded funny to him, but landed on deaf ears. His smile slowly faded as he got more serious to match the tone of the room. “That was until I met Y/N. If there’s one thing I learned while we’ve been together, it’s the thrill of getting to know the person you want to spend the rest of your life with. And I guess like your virginity, you want to give it to someone special. You want to give all of yourself away to this person. For a long time I thought that wasn't for me. Sex has always been about the pleasure. It was fun. You know?”

Dean was trying his best to work with the crowd to try and get them to understand where he was coming from here. But it seemed he lost them again. Nevertheless, he went on with his confession. "But, uh...sometimes all those hookups make you feel bad, you know? You're drunk. You shack up. Then, it's the whole morning thing. You know, 'Hey, that was fun.' And then, 'adios,' you know? Always the 'adios.'

"I got tired of that. I hated filling the void in my heart with something temporary. I guess life kicked me in the pants at some point and made me realize what I really wanted. I wanted Y/N. And I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her. And, yeah, we kind of did things backwards...had a few bumps in the road. But isn't that what life is all about?” A few women nodded their head in agreement while the others verbally answered. "If anything, being in a long committed relationship made me appreciate how sex can be something meaningful."

You had to admit, Dean had you in the first half of what he was saying. He sounded genuine with his words, as if he was putting his heart into this and playing up the role to make a good impression. Until it veered in the direction you should've feared. "Like I said, sex has always been fun. I'm not denying that. And it's even better with a life-long partner. You get to explore their body in an intimate way no one else will ever be able to do. Know what makes them go crazy . Isn’t that what it comes down to, right?

"There's the touching and the feeling all of each other, knowing exactly where to go that gets them all excited. There’s no fumbling around. You just get straight to the point.” Dean was officially having too much fun at this point when he realized almost everyone was hooked in his words, yourself included. He dropped his voice so it was lower, almost sensual. “My favorite part is being able to trace every inch of her body, touching the places that only I get to see. In the moment it’s just the two of us moving together, pressing and pulling...grinding."

Dean was and always will be a flirt, it was in his personality. A special skill set of his that you admired even before got together with him. Sometimes all it took was a pretty smile for you to feel swooned. While he might annoy you with that mouth of his most of the time, he also could get you in the mood. And it seemed you weren’t the only one starting to awkwardly shift in your seat from the way he was going on. You scratched the back of your ear as you tried to keep yourself focused and not lulled into a fantasy while he went on.

“You forget about everything and everyone around you when you hit that perfect spot. All you can think about is reaching the end. And slowly, everything just builds and builds and builds until it all just..." Dean made an explosive noise to sneakily hint at what he was saying, trying to keep it family friendly. Tammy found herself lost in the moment, crushing the paper with her written verse, as if she was trying to calm herself down.

Sam was starting to hate his brother at the moment. The room shifted to an awkward tone after hearing what kind of filth Dean thought would be appropriate enough to speak about. Simple talk that got even the prudent of virgins fidgeting in their seats. You weren’t saved from his ever present glare when you happened to feel his lingering stare upon you. You guessed it was for the confession you made yourself, and not stopping Dean when you should’ve. You innocently shrugged your shoulders and looked on, never admitting to the fact you were lost in the moment like every other woman here. Sam’s expression changed into his infamous bitchface to his brother, appearing again in the span of a few minutes.

“But the whole thing was just a little too, uh...sticky. And complicated. So, uh, I got my ‘V’ card back so I can do things right.” Dean topped off his confession with a smile and a slap to his knee. “The end.”

After Dean’s explicit confession, the meeting continued on like normal without anything titillating details from the other members. You half-listened to everyone else as they took the opportunity to confess themselves of what almost tempted them this week along with a couple of Bible verses being read aloud to help strengthen the bond to their abstinence before wrapping up things. You helped clean up the chairs and tidy up things, deciding it was the least you could do after your share.

Luckily the meeting continued on like normal without anything else more...exciting from the other members. You half listened to everyone take the opportunity to confess this week what tempted them and a couple of Bible verses before wrapping up. You helped clean up the chairs and tidy things up, deciding to be a little bit respectful after the share you had. To be honest, you said all of those things out of fun, knowing your sexual history was a tad bit odd compared to most.

You made your way back over to the boys after all of you did your share to help clean up the place, letting everyone else mingle among one another. Sam didn’t waste a second after getting you and Dean to enough of a deserted spot to share his discomfort felt during the entire meeting because of the both of you. You broke out into a smile even before he could get the words out.

“So, wee bit of an over share, guys?” Sam sarcastically asked you, still squirming around at the details forever burned in his mind. You let out a chuckle in amusement. “It’s not funny, Y/N.”

“Kind of is, Sammy.” You teased him.

“I was purifying.” Dean said, going to his defense about the reason why he went so graphic. He found himself losing track of focus when he spotted the consular, Suzy, talking to one of the members. “Hey, she look familiar to you? Swear I know her from somewhere.”

“Pack it up, Casanova. That stupid line might work, but you’re not single anymore.” You reminded him.

“Oh, sweetheart, there’s no one in this world I want to give up my virginity to again besides you.” Dean laid it on thick with the flirtation when you took his words the wrong way. You rolled your eyes. “Seriously. It’s bugging me. Come on, let’s go find out.”

You felt a tap on your shoulder, delaying you from responding to Dean’s request. You looked over to see it was Bonnie standing there with a too wide of a smile. “I’ll catch up in a second, hun. The girls need to talk.” You joked with Dean, nodding your head to Bonnie. He escaped before he could find out what she wanted to talk to you about. You returned the smile when you glanced back over to her. “Hey.”

“So?” She asked you, curious for you to answer something you had no idea what for. You raised your brows and continued to smile, wondering what the hell she was baiting. “How did you like the meeting? That was quite a share.”

“I loved it. I know, but I feel so comfortable around you guys. This is the first time I’ve ever come clean about this stuff to someone else.” You said. You decided to play along for the hell of it, laying on the act extra thick as you went on. “You know, I couldn't help but think of those who weren't here.”

“Oh. Honor. She's my favorite.” Bonnie said, sadly smiling at the mention of the missing member. Before she could continue this riveting conversation, Bonnie found her attention lingering over to the snack table where she saw one of the women sneaking an extra snack for later. “Would you excuse me?”

“Of course.” You said, stepping out of the way to Bonnie could tend to whatever needed her attention. You thought you might be able to finally sneak away and join Dean, who seemed to be in conversation with Suzy. However you were stopped again by another member. She seemed angry for some reason. “Oh. Hi, there.”

“Her favorite?” She ignored your friendly greeting, too worked up at what she overheard Bonnie say. “She has no idea what kind of girl Honor is.”

“You don't say. Uh, Tammy, right? The poet?” You asked, remembering her name from the horrible poem verse you were able to avoid. She nodded her head. You looked around to see where Sam was, hoping you might be able to sneak away, only it seemed he had your luck when he was cornered by Bonnie after she squashed whatever pulled her away. You withheld the urge to sigh and turned your attention back to her. “Tammy, why don't don't you tell me what kind of girl Honor is?”

That was the wrong thing to ask. She went on a rampage of what kind of person Honor was. You tried your hardest to sound interested as you nodded your head every once in a while, trying to be polite. This wasn’t the kind of stuff you cared for. Or would help the case. “And I bake real cookies for the bake sale. Honor just brings Oreos!” She went on, making you pretend to be shocked. “I mean, she’s not as innocent as everyone thinks she is.”

“What do you mean by that?” You asked her, your tone shifting into a more serious one.

“All I’m saying is that she’s going to hell.” Tammy said. “And you would be too if you didn’t confess those things and come here to repurify yourself. I bet you feel so much better.”

“For sure. I mean, I already been to hell twice. Not fun.” You said. You let out a breath of relief when Dean waved his arm up in the air, catching your attention. His face scrunching up in confusion as to why you were still talking to Tammy. “Could you excuse me? My boyfriend needs me.”

“Is that supposed to be like some kind of metaphor…?” Tammy’s expression dropped at hearing what you just said, making her confused. “Oh! Nice talking to you!”

You politely smiled before turning around and finally headed over to Dean and Suzy, wondering what kind of trouble he was getting himself into during your short time away. You doubt he made a good impression on the woman. But it seemed she wasn’t as quick to judge one from the way she was casually speaking to him, no spouts of words about the damnation he was going to face after death. She seemed the most approachable out of anyone here. Maybe that’s why she was in charge of running the group here. You politely squeezed yourself into the conversation when Suzy spotted you lingering before she smiled, welcoming you right in.

“I hope he’s not bothering you too much.” You playfully joked with the woman. “Dean tends to get a bit excited about these kinds of things. If there’s anything he loves more than me it’s God.”

“Suzy and I were just talking. I swear I’ve seen her face before. I just can’t put my finger on it.” Dean said. “But we were also discussing the fact that she does private counseling.”

“Really? So everyone in the group dishes to you?” You asked curiously.

“They confide. Abstinence is really rough without support and education. It’s a wonderful thing the both of you decided to go on this journey together.” Suzy said, smiling in a kind of way that was admirable for the clear love you and Dean had for each other. And yet you could see there was almost a sadness behind it, almost envious. “Hey, you know what? I have some great books on the vow that really helped me. I live close. I'll just go grab them.”

“No, that’s okay—“ Dean tried to protest the idea of making Suzy go through all the trouble, wanting more to get back to the motel. You quickly cut him off, making his grip around your waist tighten ever so much.

“With a kidnapper on the loose? We can go with you.” You suggested. Out of anyone, Suzy seemed like a sweet woman who wasn’t going to bombard you with guilt over your past behavior. Maybe if you got her alone she might be able to tell you something about Honor and the other missing couple. “Let Dean and I walk you home.”

“No, I'll be fine.” Suzy reassured you.

“Please. It’s the least we could do. Just to be safe.” You told her. When you saw the woman let out a breath, almost as if she was a bit relieved, you smiled. “Just let us pop over to Sam and we’ll be right back.”

Dean dropped his friendly face when he stepped away from Suzy after unwillingly being dragged around town when he wanted nothing more than to go back to the motel with you. You decided to put your efforts on something more important when you had the opportunity than jump into bed the first chance you got. You lost your virginity late in life, you could wait a little while to lose it again. You made your way over to Sam after he wrapped up a conversation with Tammy after he was cornered by the young woman. It seemed she had the same effect on the man from the expression that lingered on his face after she left.

“Hey, we’re gonna walk Suzy home. See if she might know anything else about the vics.” You told the younger man. “Can you stick around here and possibly talk to the rest of the group? See if you might be able to get anything else out?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sam didn’t seem to buy what you were saying, presuming it was a cheap cover to get out of here and back to the motel. “You know, I’m actually trying to work here. I don’t think it’s fair you two are trying to sneak off.”

“Come on, look. You know if Dean was single he’d be all over Suzy trying to do more than just bring her home.” You said. Sam shrugged at the thought, nodding in agreement. “We’re focused as much as you are on the case. No one’s jumping into bed just yet. We're gonna take Suzy home and see if she might know anything else about the people who went missing."

Sam agreed with the plan from how it sounded coming from you. He waited a few seconds before he nodded his head, letting you and his brother head out with Suzy back to her apartment. Right as Sam turned around to see who else he might be able to speak to, he jumped slightly in surprise at seeing Tammy standing there, a little too wide of a smile on her face when she caught him alone. He managed to hide the sigh that wanted to come out behind a forced smile. He hoped all of this was going to be worth it in the end.

+ + +

The walk to Suzy’s apartment wasn’t too far from the church like she said, the time it took to get there was filled with mindless chatter about what she thought of the town and church. She had nothing but positive things to say since moving here a few months ago herself. You continued on with the fake lie about yourself to keep the conversation going, telling her how you and Dean were planning on getting hitched and how this town was a fresh start for you and the boys. The three of you were a close family after your parents passed away, the only part of your story that was true.

Right away she got to work finding those books she mentioned back at the church. You decided to shrug off your jacket, not sure how long you were going to be here, and decided to look around yourself at how she decorated her place. Suzy mentioned there were quite a few books around here specifically for couples. Your offer to help when asked was granted when she mentioned there were some in a cabinet you were standing next to. You opened up the small door and crouched down to see what she had here. You skimmed her vast collection of books out of partial curiosity to see what an abstinence consular enjoyed to read. When you found what you needed, you cradled them in your arms and got back up, only to discover you felt a strange lingering stare on you. You turned around and spotted Dean’s eyes where they shouldn’t be.

You shot him a warning glare to behave before Suzy caught you. Dean’s smirk when he was caught by you was wiped off his face when you a little too roughly plopped the books down to his hands, Suzy followed suit a few moments later with several more of her own. He muffed a grunt from the several self help books he was forced to carry. You smiled in appreciation and slapped the pile with a little too much force, making him almost lose balance on the books. He struggled to catch them before they could tumble to the ground.

“Thanks, honey.” You cooed. “You’re so strong.”

��Okay. So,” Suzy seemed content at the eight books Dean was currently holding, hoping it would be enough reading material to get started with. “why don't you guys breeze through these, and I'm gonna head to the little girls' room.”

Suzy excused herself before disappearing to another part of her apartment, leaving you and Dean alone in her living room. Dean wasted no time ditching the books somewhere else as you casually looked around the place, all though you weren't sure yet of what you were looking for. It appeared to be like any other bachelorette home. You wandered around the place, glancing over at framed pictures of her life and examining little knick-knacks decorated around the place. Right as you were about to pick up a snowglobe, your cell phone started ringing, distracting you from your search. You looked at the screen to see that it was Sam, probably to check up on you and Dean. You went to answer the call when you spotted a half-open drawer that caught your attention. You let it ring a few more times before you finally answered it, all while opening the drawer just enough to see what was inside, wondering if it was some sort of junk drawer. Only it was much more.

You pulled out a few DVDs that weren't blockbuster movies from the cover. More dirty films from the familiar titles you heard of. You let out a quiet chuckle from the discovery you made. Apparently Miss Abstinence was a former adult star. That's why Dean knew who she was. She had a pretty active role in Casa Erotica, her movie was so good you knew the man kept a downloaded file on his computer. A secret porn stash he thought you knew nothing about. You quickly tucked them back away when an idea popped into your head.

You almost forgot about the call with Sam when you heard his voice from the other line call out your name in a slightly annoyed tone from your delayed response. You closed the drawer with your hip and turned around in your spot so you could casually lean against the dresser. Dean tossed you a confused look from the way you were acting as you finally answered his brother's insensent attempts of getting your attention before he could think the worse.

You half-listened to what he was saying about the case, something about how this wasn't the work of a dragon, but all you could focus on was the sound of Suzy opening up the bathroom door. You told Sam you'd call him back before ending the call. As Suzy stepped back into the living room, you realized the promise you made to Sam was about to be broken. It could've waited until after the hunt was over, but you figured you waited around long enough for your first time.

“I gotta go.” You said, making sure your tone of voice sounded disappointed at how you were skipping out so soon on her. Suzy seemed worried from the way you were acting from the short time she was away. “Oh, it’s nothing. Sam’s just having a bit of trouble. You know men. Always something.”

“Are you sure? It sounds serious.” Dean tried to get himself out of here before he could be pulled into the virtues of why keeping his virginity until marriage was for him. “Maybe we both should make sure he’s all right.”

“That’s okay, honey. He just needs me to pop by the store and pick up some stuff.” You said. The look on Dean’s face was easy to tell he wasn’t buying your lie, despite how it was going to be all for him. He’d find out soon enough. “Thank you for everything, Suzy. I’ll see you at the next meeting.”

Suzy seemed a bit upset at seeing you go so soon before she could properly go through some helpful techniques that you probably could've used. Dean tossed you daggers from leaving him here to spend God knows how long entertaining the consular. You gave him an adoring smile and waved goodbye to your boyfriend, figuring he would be thanking you for leaving him here after the surprise you had planned for him after he got back to the motel.

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troublesometrollhunters · 4 years ago

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~ Douxie is a lowly street urchin. He's the lowest class you can get and he's barely considered a person none the less a commoner. He has no place being near the castle or being offered by the Merlin to learn magic at the side of Morgana. He doesn't fit into the world of Nobility surrounding Camelot or the Royal Court. And yet as Merlin puts his hand on the young boys shoulder leading him to the castle as he holds a sleeping Archie close, Douxies never felt more at home.

~ When Douxie meets you it's love at first sight. You just looked so healthy and clean and kind. Almost angelic. With rosy cheeks and a bright smile he couldn't help but stare at you as your mom talked to Merlin about something. You were in the most beautiful clothes he'd ever seen and your hair was recently brushed and done. He swallows trying to find his words but you don't seem to mind as you fill the silence with your sweet voice. Archie stirs in his arms and as you leave with your mom waving a goodbye Archie gives him a knowing look as Merlin smacks his head.

~ "Absolutely not Hisirdoux." Merlin is firm on that point. Douxie is allowed many freedoms now that he lives in the castle but there are also many new rules. One of them is that he apprentally is not to talk with the Nobel he met his first day as Merlins apprentice. Or any Nobles he meets unless he is with Merlin and they address him first. His rank may be higher now that he is Merlins apprentice but it will never be high enough to truly intrest someone of your stature or decorum. At least that's what Merlin tells him.

~ So of course he may not be able to "talk" to you but Archie can. So the ten year old Douxie comes up with a plan! While he's working besides Merlin he sends Archie off too learn more about you. The familiar seeing Douxies interest in you is quit keen on gaining knowledge for his young master. So the cat sneaks off to ask you some questions.

~ Your alone in your room studying when he finds you. You're reading and when he appears your eager to pet him. I mean he is a small fluffy cat. However when he speaks you seem hesitant to talk back at first, afraid that a fae is tricking you or you might get cursed. But a talking cat is so exciting and he seems very well mannered so you end up answering all his questions in exhange for some of your own. When Archie comes back that night Douxie learns everything about you Archie had learned. Apprentally you're the child of a Dutchess or perhaps a distant cousin of King Arthur but whoever you are Archie confirms you're way out of Douxies league. That in no way stops them however.

~ Merlin said Douxie is not to court you. But he isn't intrested in marriage (yet) he only wants your hand in friendship. After all your his age and you live in the castle and you seem super nice. He may be a middle class mage but he does live in the castle which means little Douxie often has free riegn of it. He's worried about guards spotting him near your room so he sends Archie too you with questions he has. Sometimes he's brave and he'll catch glimpses of you throughout the castle. He always gets a dopey smile on his face after he's seen you.

~ One day as he sits at his desk looking at the window waiting for Archie to come and tell him more about you he gets a surprise. His face lights up seeing his familiar and he notices something in the cats mouth. Archie smiles as he hands over a letter.

'Hisirdoux I've heard a lot about you from your familiar. Archie says you should give him more treats for his troubles and I agree he's a good cat who often visits me when I am lonely.

My name is (Y/N) and although we haven't formally met and talked alone I remember you. Merlins apprentice learning magic! That must be so exciting! Much better than my dull tasks in the court! I am always with escort or guard or parent otherwise I assure you we would've met and talked again. I often catch you in the corner of my eye and it always bring a smile to my face. You seem very kind and many of my friends sadly are not. So I have come up with a plan. For now I can not meet you in person but someday soon I will find a way.

Until then lets write letters. It'll be an adventure.

- Love (Y/N)

~ Archie doesn't mind being a messanger. He finds your friendship with Doxuie endearing and soon comes to care for you as much as the boy. Douxie immediately gets excited at the idea of writing you a letter and responds as soon as he finsihes reading yours.

~ Dear (Y/N),

Merlin said I'm not supposed to talk to you but he never said I couldn't write too you! You're brilliant for thinking of this and I don't listen to everything he says anyways. Merlin is a great teacher and I am grateful to him but he is also a hard enforcer. Learning magic under him is difficult and I do a lot more cleaning than actual magic.

But that's okay! I enjoy working under him. What must your life be like I wonder? A Royal in the Court? What do you do? What are you Royal duties? I mostly mop, sweep, and write endless hours of boring homework nothing exciting like this!

P.S I gave Archie lots of pets and treats just like you asked!

- Your friend Hisirdoux Casperan

~ Soon starts a game of back and forth. Every night or every other night you write letters to him and he writes back. You exchange smiles in the hall and nod at each other in passing. It's the biggest secret either of you have ever had and sometimes it takes everything not to giggle at the sight of each other. You may not be able to hang out properly but as you begin to get to know each other more intimately Hisirdoux takes more risks too see you and you in turn do the same.

~ A year goes by and Douxie starts adding in small things to your letters. He loves giving you little gifts and trying to catch a reaction in the hallway, as dangerous as it might be, he loves seeing your smile whenever you receive something. Pressed flowers, poetry he read in old books, and knick nacks he found in town being some of his favorites to give you. In turn you give him sweets, books you like to read, small sketches, interesting facts from your studies, pretty crystals, and anything else you think he'll enjoy.

~ As teenager's Archie had been your letterman for years. Acting as a middle ground since it was almost impossible to meet alone. You and Hisirdoux had become closer despite not being able to meet in person much and as you both were given more freedom as you got older you found ways to meet and talk, Archie acting as a look out as you snuck moments alone.

~ You both find out the castle has secret passages throughout the walls when your about 13. Douxie and you are now able to meet in secret and have free reign of the castle at night when everyone is asleep. Some nights you both sneak into the kitchens stealing tarts and other sweets, other nights you spend in the library reading together into the early hours of the morning, and other nights are spent wandering the castle learning all it's secrets. Sometimes you even sneak to the roof or observatory and stare out at the stars talking about your dreams and what you wish to be and do.

~ As he becomes better at music he finds himself sitting beneath your rooms balcony or practicing outside your room so you can hear his music. You only encourage his craft and your encouragement makes his heart soar. He loves singing silly ballads to you and has even snuck in some romantic lyrics.

~ He loves showing off his magic. He's so proud of his craft and he's proud of how your eyes light up when you watch him do a spell. He enjoys watching your reactions as he casts his latest mark and often does spells he probably shouldn't to try and impress you. His favorite trick is summoning a flower and tucking it behind your ear. Your blush is always so pretty as he places it for you.

~ He sneaks into your library or places you go throughout the day to leave you things to find. Pressed flowers became a common occurrence in your books, or bits of a song he'd wrote slip into your school notes. Sometimes drawings and other small assorted things will appear through out the day as you do your duties as well. Unknown to Casperan you keep everything he gives you in a box under your bed in your room. All the letters he's written to you are safely tucked away in a large hollow book you made.

~ It becomes easier for him to sneak into your room or you to sneak into his as you get older. There are secret tunnels in the castle walls you use to meet up.

~ As you grow older you know your hand will soon be given to some other Nobel family but you dream of a life with Douxie. One where you could be yourself and you could live a life of love, magic, and adventure. He made you happy and although it wasn't practical you often daydreamed of running away together or becoming a mage yourself just so you could marry him.

~ One night when Archie goes to check up on you and say goodnight he runs back to Hisirdoux worried. Apprentally the ball of furr had heard you crying and ran back to tell young Casperan. He of course ran to your room doing his best not to be seen. You were waiting for Archie to come say goodnight but you'd fallen asleep and then woken from a terrible nightmare. Your door opens and looking up you sniffle and stare at Casperan with scared eyes. He lays next to you and you lean against him closing your eyes and taking in his comfort. Holding you close he uses his magic to play you a song staying with you until you drift asleep.

~ You're both more than friends. You both know it but neither of you have admitted it. The Royal Court would never allow you to love each other. You could never be married officially and eventually you'd be forced into a loveless life with someone else. However tension is rising in Camelot and things are changing. Magic may soon be banned and with it Douxies passion. You're idea to run away becomes more and more appealing as the world around you slowly dissolves into choas.

~ One night while everyone was asleep you sneak into his room. Shaking him awake you put a finger to your mouth and drag the sleepy boy to the stables. Under the moonlight you both ride out of Camelot to spend one night together. One night where you can just be who you both are. You explain your plan. What you should do and although Douxie does not want to leave he agrees it's unsafe.

~ You pack. You know you can't take much but you've arranged for a carriage with two horses so you and Douxie can at least start with something. All your jewellery and valuables along with pouches full of gold, silver, and copper from the Royal Treasury are put into a large satchel you hide under your bed. You pack a few of your least fancy dresses and steal pants from the stable boy. All of your favorite books, drawing supplies, and poems are shoved into a different satchel. You hide the hollow book of letters and all the gifts Hisirdoux wrote you in the stable and you prepare to leave.

~ Packing the carriage late at night under the stars Douxie and Archie meet you. Douxie has a satchel full of potions, a purse full of magic scrolls and books no one will miss, the letters you wrote him, and his lute. He also grabbed dried meat from the kitchen, biscuits, and canteens of water.

"Love are you sure?" He's so tender so soft and so full of love. You know this is meant to be.

"Without you Douxie life is not worth living. You love me not for my riches. Not for looks. Not for my status but for me. No matter what happens I love you."

~ That's all Douxie needs to hear before he takes the reigns and you both leave. Fleeing your life from Camelot and going on a new adventure. One of adventure, magic, and love. You know things will never be the same but that's alright. You have him, he has you, and you both had Archie. As you flee under the stars avoiding trolls and traveling several towns over you know this is meant to be.

(Comments and feedback appreciated :D)

#hisirdoux casperan #hisirdoux x reader #douxie x reader #wizards x reader #noble reader #morgana #merlin #archie #hello!#i read way too much douxie fanfiction #so heres the boy #i love him #fair warning still havent seen wizards 😬😬😬#hope this is good!#cannon divergent #in which douxie finds someone he loves and leaves Camelot before everything goes to hell #douxie #long post

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phanfictioncatalogue · 4 years ago

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50k - 100k (3) Masterlist

Links Last Checked: November 11th, 2024

part one, part two

By the way, I adore you. (ao3) | 89k | - lxzyfangirl

Summary: Dan is very sick, and the future is not looking too bright for him, thankfully, he has Phil, his best friend, to accompany him through it all. But is Dan satisfied with being just friends?

do what thou wilt (ao3) | 50k | -sunflowerwitches

Summary: dan has always known that he isn't a normal human, he grew up wiccan in the middle of seventeenth-century england. he definitely knew he wasn't normal when he has to flee his family home due to the witch trials taking place. he flees to pendle hill in lancashire which isn't completely different to his life back home

Galaxies and Greenhouses (ao3) | 59k | - fourthingsandawizard

Summary: When Dan meets a boy with piercings and a dragon tattoo while shopping in Diagon Alley, he’s pretty quick to jump to conclusions, much to his own embarrassment. But as they become fast friends, they both come to see that sometimes the most important lessons learned at Hogwarts are the ones that happen without a wand.

i don't know why (i can't keep my eyes off of you) (ao3) | 73k | - combeauferre

Summary: Starting a new university is hard enough without Phil having to convince his best friend PJ he doesn't have a crush on their other flatmate, Dan. He definitely does not have a crush on Dan.

Laws Of Attraction (ao3) | 61k | - by strawberrysunflower

Summary: When Phil turned twenty-nine, he wrote out a list of all the things he had in his life. One terraced house in Manchester, rented. Two housemates who still buy the cheapest alcohol on offer in Tesco. Three failed long-term relationships.

After a spur-of-the-moment Friday night out on Canal Street, Phil ends up in the bed of a very handsome stranger. It’s a nice yet meaningless distraction from his directionless life. No big deal. Until he bumps into him again. And again. And again...

meant for me (ao3) | 70k | - graydar

Summary: Dan doesn’t believe in soulmates. Phil believes in everything. Dan is scared of everything. Phil is scared of Dan.

papercut (ao3) | 50k | - by schnaf Summary: A cut. A tiny little cut, barely visible - just like a papercut. A cut - and yet, to Dan, it’s so much more. It’s the case he’s working on, the case only he seems to be taking seriously - it’s a serial killer’s signature. So when he gets the chance to track down the murderer, he doesn’t hesitate. And then, there’s Phil, Phil who’s making the chase so much more bearable, Phil who adds something completely different to his task. But things aren’t always what they seem.

Thunder Only Happens When It's Raining (ao3) | 79k | - Nefertiti1052 (Succubusphan)

Summary: Dan meets Phil at the lowest moment in his life and is immediately enchanted by him, but nobody is perfect - not even those with good intentions and a kind heart.

This is the story of two imperfect people trying to do their best, to find love and strive in life. They gravitate towards each other at every turn, sometimes dancing in harmony, other times colliding.

Time's Tide (ao3) | 78k | - intoapuddle

Summary: All men have secrets, and Phil won't let his own be known. But even in 1984's Manchester there is another person that understands.

to all the people i've loved before (and the one who actually made me fall in love) (ao3) | 64k | - natigail

Summary: Phil doesn’t crush on people often, but when he does the emotions seem to overwhelm him. The only way he knows how to deal is to write love letters. They were never meant to be read.

The most recent letter threatens to ruin his relationship with his big brother Martyn, so in a fit of panic, Phil finds himself turning to the boy who was the recipient of the very first love letter for help. Even if he is Dan Howell, the school heartthrob.

Under the Midnight Sun (ao3) | 50k |- paradisobound

Summary: Every night in London, a midnight circus pops up under the ringmaster Phil Lester’s command. Many of the performers are runaways, looking for a new start at life. One of them is Daniel Howell, a young man who is looking for a new excitement to his life. But slowly, the secrets of the midnight circus and Phil Lester became shown and Dan realizes that he may be in a situation he’ll never be able to get out of.

#phanfictioncatalogue #phanfiction #phanfic #phan #masterlists #50k #50k masterlist #superlong

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translightyagami · 4 years ago

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Mikalight Week fic: 24-Hour Gym

a short mikalight fic for, what else, @mikalightweek. wrote it sort of quick? and its not explicit but is very sensual and there’s a lot of body talk and you can basically assume they fuck after the fic (i was TOO LAZY to write the smut). Anyway.

This fic is rated BPBB, for Bench Pressing Bodacious Babes.

Quiet and soft humid air filled the gym. From the window, Teru watched him with his standard issue NPA duffel bag slung over his shoulder, laughing at a text on his phone. When he looked up, they almost met eyes and Teru turned, facing his reflection in the wall-length mirror. His black hair hung in lank strands beside his face; his grey T-shirt collar darkened into a full-leaf of sweat over his front. The gym door bells jingled as he came in, cheeks pink from the mid-winter outside and a wary smile on his face.

Of course, Teru recognized him. Kira. Light. Above the brown trendy haircut floated his full name, the kanji confusing for a minute until – congealed and solidified – the meaning existed. While Light checked in with the sleepy front desk clerk, he talked loud and high-pitched. It was a voice unlike the one Teru heard in the warehouse, the one that told him after the police and that little white haired boy were dead, to go home. To make up an alibi. And to meet him, at this little 24-hour gym, in ten days.

Watching Light’s mirror twin walk to the back lockers, Teru lifted his dumbbells on autopilot – eleven, twelve, twelve, no wait – before setting them down, grabbing the towel he tucked into his jogger’s waistband. Nervous sweat and exertion sweat mixed together, all mopped away by a monogramed hand towel. When he glanced back up, Light was at the rowing machine.

For twenty minutes, they waltzed: Light moved to a machine, doing his reps, while Teru went to a different machine, did his own program. (An unceasing eye for detail made note that Light lifted about ten under Teru’s lowest weight.) Having shed a jacket now that he’d warmed up, Light worked in a loose white tank top that hung low in the sleeve holes. Every so often, when he reached to grasp a bar, his chest swooped in and out of view. Teru caught scar tissue, though never a long enough glimpse to know its shape. He stood from the arm extension machine and walked to the bench press. All the way he felt two sharp eyes peering at him from a leg machine.

Teru set the plates: two 10 kg., and then two 2.5 kg. plates, an unusual though not overwhelmingly larger weight than he lifted on a normal night. Foolish and near school-boylike, he wanted to show off in front of the other man. After setting the weights, he leaned back and rested his head beneath the long metal bar – and waited. The sound of God walking, a long stride with confident footfalls, was familiar in Teru’s ears. Head haloed in florescent, Light bent above the metal bar with arms outstretched.

“Do you need a spotter?” His tone suggested a joke – ha, ha, who else but me – but Teru only heard the question in serious.

“Yes,” he said, and it was then he realized these were the first words he’d spoken to Light in public. How apt, how right, that their exchange be God extending his hands to help Teru carry such a heavy burden. Light hovered his palms just around the silver length, eyes trained on Teru as he wrapped fists at either end and – oh! – lifted. Every rep, staring directly into a brown-eyed microscope, and Teru almost shook, lost his strength, when their hands nearly brushed. He managed ten reps before gently resting the bar back in place. Sweat dripped off his neck and above him, it made gems across Light’s forehead.

“Wow,” Light said. “You’re pretty strong.”

“T-thank you,” Teru cursed his stutter. He didn’t expect the compliment and it made a little flower burst inside his concrete encased heart. The flower only grew the longer Light looked at him, smile just a pink curve, eyes unnervingly genuine. It was a look that fake people in movies gave each other – Teru hated how much he liked to trust it. God had to be genuine – a kingdom of justice would never stand on false ground. Light’s stare trapped him with a weight deeper and heavier than any dumbbell, and when he glanced away, Teru gasped. His breath had flattened in his chest.

Light left first, at midnight, and when Teru went to his own locker at one thirty am, he found a note shoved into the air slits. On the note was a phone number and curt letter L for a signature. He folded it into the smallest triangle he could, having memorized the number, and set the paper beneath his tongue. As Teru packed his things, nodded to the gym employee, walked into a cold and calamitous city sidewalk, the paper poked and scraped the inner wet flesh. Pain in little bites followed him on his walk – each bright moment a moment of God beside him. Do you need a spotter? A question, a divine extended hand. Wow. You’re pretty strong. Strong, a warrior disciple, God’s most beloved. And, at the platform for his train home, he swallowed the dissolving note – communion.

Teru started working out in high school, when a gym teacher suggested a natural physical ability like his could use sculpting and recognized in him a perhaps genetic inability to play on a team. Ever since the first time, he took to the regimentation, the preplanning and trackable results of gym life. Within the walls of his usual club – the membership to which took up an embarrassing but necessary amount of his pay – Teru found ritual. A work out was an offering to the divine in his own body, and now it became religious practice, a modeling of himself into a better tool for Kira’s will.

This late night arrangement became weekly. On Tuesdays, Teru and Light worked out in the same hole-in-the-wall 24-hour gym, just them and one employee. Two owls dancing around the machines, Teru knew both their stares were gobbling each other’s body behaviors like so many tasty mice. He saw in Light a similar high-school athletics resolve, although the way his muscles smoothed rather than fit into shapes spoke more to sports than targeted workouts. Teru resisted his own snobbery in this observation – though he found a dedication to the perfecting of the body rather than to sportsmanship more pleasing. Kira had his reasons, maybe, for choosing athletic pastimes. There too was a certain leanness to Light’s body as well. Even with a layer of more authoritative muscle, he looked vulpine, foxlike in his lithe frame. His posture retained the slight slouch that many people who were slim in their young adult hood had; in fact, Teru only recognized it since he himself trained it out of his own habits a year prior.

And, yet, the flurry of observation – itself a thrill in its artificial intimacy – didn’t compare to those few minutes where Light leaned over, put his elegant hands out, and spotted Teru’s bench press. He took to doing them more often than his usual schedule. Combined with the bigger weights, an unevenness grew in his routine that Teru would never have allowed before. He couldn’t stop himself though. Anything for a few moments close enough to Light to see the split of his lips, the sweat trickling over his flushed cheeks.

On the fourth week, while Teru wiped down the leg press after he used it, Light approached him.

“Hey,” he said. “Isn’t weird how we’re always in this place together, but we’ve never learned each other’s names?”

“Mikami Teru,” Teru said. The tone was straightforward, and his volume normal – and still he imagined how imprudent he sounded. “I don’t usually go to this gym.”

Light narrowed his eyes and shook his head, just enough to say not the plan. Up his back, Teru’s spine stiffened. It was no joy to disappoint Light.

“Well,” Light said, slick voice untwisting the frustration in his gaze and presenting a smile that bordered on pretty. “I’m Yagami Light. I’ve really admired your routine. Maybe sometime we can meet up. I’m no good with workouts, not like you.”

“Oh. Yes.” Teru nodded. Meet up? Before he could ask a clarifying question, Light spoke over his concerns.

“Call me tomorrow,” he said. “I’m free after five.”

He walked away, not leaving a number except the one boiled in Teru’s stomach. No matter how heavy the weights he lifted, no matter the volume of the baby crying on his bus home, all Teru thought of was his phone and tomorrow after five. His palms itched.

He called at five twenty the next day, having rushed home after a meeting went long, and Teru never heard a worse noise than the ringing before Light picked up. On first answering, his tone was unpleasantly gruff, accusatory – a man in the drag of an older, wiser man. It clashed with the smooth youthfulness of Light’s voice in the gym, which only returned when Teru tentatively said his own greeting.

“Oh! Mikami,” Light said, a balm over the scratches left behind by his put-on masculinity. “You’re calling so late. I thought maybe you forgot.”

“No,” Teru said. “Never. I don’t forget important things.”

“Mm,” Light said. Behind his voice was a tapping sound, someone hitting paper with a pen. “I’m honored to be an important thing. Say, I didn’t catch it before, but where did you say you lived?”

Teru sat on a kitchen stool; he’d been standing, impatient, in the breakfast nook as though preparing to run to wherever Kira needed him. But the question set him down – why did Light want to know? And was it safe to say over the phone? Realizing he’d left dead air too long, Teru muttered that he lived further south – about an hour from the 24-hour gym.

“Oh, I see,” Light sounded mildly perturbed to be have been waiting. “I was just thinking, my girlfriend is making cookies and I thought I’d send you some. Do you have an address that’d be good?”

His girlfriend? Teru didn’t press but his stomach sank. However the phrase stung, he listed his apartment address in dutiful detail. In his ear were the soft scratches of Light’s pen writing everything down and, once he finished, Teru coughed. He didn’t want the phone call to end.

“Did you play sports?” His question flowed out in a proper, clear way, and Teru congratulated himself on how normal he sounded. “Maybe in high school?”

Light went quiet and when he spoke again, the words were cold.

“I played tennis,” he said. “Why do you ask?”

“I only wondered because,” Teru scrambled for something less damning to say, “you’re in such good shape but don’t like to work out. And usually that’s because of sports, I find.”

“Ah,” a low simmer melted Light’s voice. “You like to work out, don’t you, Mikami?”

“Mm,” Teru said. “I enjoy the time to work on my body. Physical fitness is a key to leading a good, worthwhile life.”

“Interesting,” Light said. He tapped his pen before popping his lips. Their wet click was at once disgusting – the body, the spit, the base physicality of it – and alluring – the body, the spit, the parts of Kira blessed by his own inner spirit. “I’ll send those cookies tonight. Expect them at your door around midnight, hm?”

“Oh.” This wasn’t about cookies. “Yes, I’ll look for them then. Thank you, Light. That’s very kind of you.”

“I’m always kind to my friends,” Light said.

At midnight, Teru heard the curt knock of the one he waited for. Standing in the hallway of his apartment building, wrapped in a coat, green sweater and black jeans, was Light. He smiled when Teru gestured for him to come inside – a good, well-raised smile. In a small childish part of himself, Teru wished to return such a pleasant smile. Instead, he nodded and raised his eyebrows as Light pressed a plastic box into his hands.

“I wasn’t lying, before on the phone,” he said, shaking off his coat. “My girlfriend was baking. She insisted I take some to meet my new friend. My recommendation?” Light swung around, coat on his finger and a wryness to his expression. “Toss them. Misa can’t bake.”

“How unfortunate,” Teru said. I’m a passable baker, he thought.

Light walked further into the one-bedroom space. He put his coat onto the black lacquered hat rack’s lower rung, ran a finger across the tight gray rectangle couch, and complimented the large entertainment center Teru built. When he let it slip that, in fact, he’d built it himself, Teru saw a curl of interest in Light’s gaze.

“I’ve always liked building too,” Light said, shrugging. “But never something so well constructed.”

He wandered into the sitting room and looked to his feet, a play-acted shyness. Nothing in his body language bar the glance down suggested timidity. Teru followed, although he knew his own behavior was less confident. Light flicked his eyes up and stilled Teru’s movements.

“I’m proud of your actions,” he said. “How well you served me, served the kingdom Kira hopes to build.”

A tremor worked through Teru and he sat, unable to keep his legs steady. To be acknowledged made him eager and fraught. Without thinking, he bowed his head, and a warm palm pressed over the back of his neck. Light murmured something.

“What did you say?” Teru asked, eyes going blurry the longer he stared at his own lap.

“I said,” Light slid a finger beneath his chin, tipping Teru up and into his line of vision. “Do you think you could bench press me?”

“I,” Teru frowned, his instinct to refuse presenting weakness. He fought past it. “I can try.”

The smile from before – polite, the kind a mother asked for during family pictures, toothless – warped into the brilliant split Teru recognized from the yellow warehouse. Light smiled in high volume, loud and greedy.

“Perfect,” he said. “Let me undress.”

“Undress?” Teru’s resolve wavered and he stood.

Light shrugged, already popping the button of his jeans.

“Won’t you need better traction?” He asked. “My clothes might cause your hand to slip.”

Breathless, Teru watched God strip down to a pair of black briefs. Shirtless, the two pink scars he saw glimpses of before swiped just beneath Light’s nipples, which hardened in the air-conditioning. Mental deduction took Teru up to chest surgery, although he couldn’t pinpoint the reason. As he stared, Light’s eyes took on impatience not unlike when Teru slipped up in the gym.

“Do I not please you?” Light raised his eyebrows, swinging out his hands. “Do you find God wanting in some way, Mikami?”

“No, no,” Teru covered his mouth. “I apologize for the imprudence. I only was curious.”

“Keep curiosity to the cats,” Light said. “Now, lay back and we’ll try this.”

Teru pushed his coffee table to the side and laid himself down on the sitting room rug. Flat on his back, Light leaning over him almost nude, a strange helplessness infected him. No matter what happened next, he had no real choice other than what Light chose for him. It didn’t help that Light’s gaze had an almost lepidopterist’s leer – staring at a captured butterfly and wondering what pins to use on its corpse. Teru shook himself inside; Kira didn’t think of him as a butterfly. He was a servant, a faithful one, and Kira found him strong.

Stretching up his arms, Teru cupped his hands and met Light with his own stare.

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said, “slowly place your waist in my right hand and your thigh in my left.”

Light nodded, walking around to stand next Teru’s shoulder. He bent in a gentle arc and his waist was the first thing to touch against Teru’s palm. In a shift, the confidence of before didn’t echo in Light’s actions now. He was cautious, still leaving one foot on the ground as he laid himself into Teru’s grasp. A muffled groaned left Teru; even with his weight distributed away, Light was still heavy.

“Um,” Light said. “Is it okay to let go?”

The question was human, quiet, and Teru wanted to file it away suddenly. He took a deep breath, wiggled his fingers where they held Light, and nodded.

“Go ahead,” he said. “I’ve got you.”

Light gasped as he lifted his leg. Balanced between Teru’s straining arms, he hovered untouched by anything but air and the other man. Teru was in pain – not just from the difficulty of holding up an adult man but from how good Light felt. He was warm, soft, and yet at the same time hard, solid muscle beneath the skin. Gritting his teeth, Teru heaved and lowered his armload until Light’s hip was just above his mouth.

He couldn’t help himself; Teru kissed the bare skin. His lips slid just so over goosebumps, tasting hints of salt and body lotion. Even partway through, he wanted to kiss the vulnerable hip again – memorize the flavor of Kira against his mouth. Light trembled and let out his name in a rasp.

“Mikami,” Light whispered. “Fuck.”

No answer occurred to him, so Teru lifted Light back up. As charged as the moment was, a small part of him celebrated being strong enough to, in fact, perform one bench press of another human. Light squirmed in his hands, too much, and without warning, Teru’s grip loosened. God fell out of his palms and landed hard on Teru’s stomach, knocking the wind out of him.

“Ah,” he shouted at the same time Light yelled, “Fuck!” They sat in sore heap. Teru rubbed his hands together, over and over. He’d failed; he let Light fall, hadn’t been strong enough to keep him stable. With trepidation, he glanced toward the other man prepared to see anger in God’s eyes, but instead Light stared back at him with arousal. His eyes were hot, molten, and his movements became languid.

“You’re so strong,” Light said, and now his voice was like nothing Teru ever heard before. There was a wildness mixed in with hunger. Light looked at him, and Teru wanted to be devoured.

“I knew the moment I saw you,” Light crawled up Teru’s aching body, his words like lava poured from his mouth. “You would be my strongest one.”

“I want to be strong for you, God,” Teru let out. “I want to serve you, be your sword.”

“Oh,” Light laughed, and it was an abrupt sound. Teru couldn’t say he liked it but the brightness in Light’s cheeks was good.

“You’ll serve me very well,” Light said, brushing Teru’s hair away from his ear so he could speak into it. His voice burned into the delicate shell. “Mikami.”

“Teru,” his voice came out a little weedy, yet Teru met Light’s hot gaze with his own resolve. “Call me Teru.”

#me me me #subtextual #death note #my fic #mikalightweek #mikalight #mikami teru #light yagami #sorry if mikami is out of character or any other number of complaints a person could hv about this fic!#he's a character i rlly struggle with and i tried to write him with as much humanity as possible!#anyway! enjoy Mikami Bench Pressing a Half-Naked Light

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kaznejis · 4 years ago

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I choose you- Marco Peña x reader

@rayof-sunnie said: Hi! I absolutely love your Marco fanfics and I hope to see more of them, since I literally fell in love with him. I was wondering if you can write a fanfic where the reader (a singer) knows Marco is falling out of love with her and she lets him go and it’s all sad and angst but bam he realizes she’s the one after she sings I choose you by Alessia Cara. Sorry if it’s too much to ask

A/N: Thankyou so much for sending this prompt! I’ve noticed this is a recurring quote during requests and I just want to say that no request is ever too much, I enjoy writing and I love turning your prompts into something real! <3

Sorry for the wait on this one, I had a first draft that I wrote about 1200 words of but then ended up scrapping it- so here’s the second draft!

Word Count: 2820 words

Feel free to send in any prompts!

High school relationships don’t always last. It’s what the people around you had said for years- their advice was always to save relationships for college because then the two of you would have a better chance at surviving the real world. You’d promise to stick to this, going to the lengths of keeping to yourself so that you wouldn’t ever be enticed.

But then, Marco came to your school.

Obviously, you hadn’t jumped straight into it there and then. The two of you had been mere acquaintances at first; nothing but polite smiles in the hallway and casual conversation if you were seated beside each other. Marco had been focusing on sport and Elle Evans at the time, so nothing happened between the two of you.

Though you did think the guy was hot- you couldn’t deny that. With his dark curly hair, broad muscles and smiles to die for; what wasn’t there to like? You brushed it off as just a small interest though due to the whole, you know, saving yourself until college thing.

Nevertheless, Marco’s sort of relationship with Elle quickly crashed to the ground almost as soon as it had started- leaving the boy devastated and confused. This is where you came into the picture, going from an outlined figure in the background to the centre point of the illustration.

It had been like any other day: walk to school, grab essentials from your locker, go to class. Despite this, an interruption came in the pursuit to said class. Marco, leant against his locker with his head resting on the cool metal.

“Hey, uh, are you okay?”

“What?” Marco’s head shot up, his hair a wild mess as he turned to look at you, “Oh, hey Y/N.”

“Hey,” You smiled slightly before repeating your previous statement, “Are you okay?”

Marco turned to lean his back against the locker and practically crumpled into it before releasing a heavy breath out of his nose, “I think everyone in this school is aware of what happened.”

“Yeah,” You coughed out as you lent against the locker beside his, “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

“Don’t be, I’m better off without her.”

“Well, at least you're staying confident and optimistic?”

“Yeah,” He laughed, it looked like he hadn’t done that in a while, “It’s the only way to stay afloat.”

You nodded, pursing your lips as you stared at the sad boy beside you, “Do you want to skip class and grab a coffee?”

“Sure.”

And that is where it all began.

It looked like a whirlwind had swept through your dorm room as you rushed to find the bracelet Marco had gifted you for your previous birthday- the two of you were going on a date, something that you hadn’t been able to do in forever due to the stress of college and separation in general. It was weird though, you and Marco had attended the same college therefore causing you to be relieved that a long-distance relationship wouldn’t be necessary.

Despite this, you felt like Marco was far away and not in the vicinity of a 5 minute walk across campus.

At the start of the school year, you and Marco had been attached at the hip- meeting before and after classes, sleeping in each other’s room most nights, doing homework/studying and just generally being together. Eventually, the stress of exam season got to the both of you and seeing each other every day turned to seeing each other once a week.

But now you were just confused, exam season had ended weeks ago but at this point you and Marco saw each other once or twice every two weeks. So, you swallowed your pride and arranged a romantic night out consisting of a candle lit dinner.

Turning in the mirror and running your eyes up and down your outfit- you decided that you looked good. After weeks of wearing nothing but sweatpants and oversized hoodies, wearing a flattering dress was exactly the confidence boost you needed; seeing Marco’s reaction would only fuel that. For the date itself you’d decided on a small Italian restaurant only a few minutes walk from campus, after that the two of you would stroll leisurely back to campus before returning to one of your respective dorms where you would spend the night together. A perfect, fool proof plan.

At least, that’s what you had thought.

The most essential factor for a successful date with your boyfriend…is that said boyfriend actually shows up.

This is the thought you mused to yourself in a burst of sarcasm as you curled into your stupidly thin coat on a bench in front of the restaurant you had arranged to meet Marco at- 40 minutes ago. Exhaling harshly, you hauled yourself up from the bench and did nothing but stare up at the sky as thunder crackled from above. At that moment, you made a decision- one that did not make your dorm the desired location.

Embarrassment filled every fibre of your being as you trudged through the halls of the college dorms completely alone wearing a tight dress and heels. Once you reached the dorm in question, you rapped loudly on the door (which earned you a number of dirty looks) and waited for the person on the other side of the door to answer.

“Hello, Who’s there?” A voice called sleepily from the other side of the door as it opened, “Oh...hey Y/N.”

“Marco,” You pushed past him and walked into the room, moving to grab a fluffy towel, “You better have a great excuse for what happened tonight.”

As you made an attempt to wring out your soaked hair, Marco went and sat back down on the messy bed at the side of the room- he must’ve been asleep, “What do you mean ‘what happened tonight?’ I’ve been asleep since 7, you know college has me exhausted.”

You stopped your frantic scrubbing and paused, letting the towel drop to the floor, “What?”

“Uh, I don’t-”

“You don’t know what you were supposed to do tonight,” You wiped a hand over your face in disbelief, “What we were supposed to do.”

Marco froze, chewing on his fingernail as he visibly tried to remember. “No, I’m sorry-”

“We had plans,” You snapped, causing Marco to snap his mouth shut, “Solid plans for an actual night out for the first time in months.”.

Realisation dawned upon Marco’s face as his whole figure slumped, though his actions showed no signs of regret, “I completely forgot.”

“Yeah, I assumed that.”

Marco huffed loudly, before leaning back on his elbows, “Y/N, I-”

“How long is this going to go on for?”

“What?” Marco raised both eyebrows.

“How long are we going to go on like this?” Despite the sadness you felt your eyes were completely dry, “How long are we going to be in this dying relationship where we never talk and never see each other,” You let out a deadly laugh, “I mean, I haven’t even said I love you in weeks let alone touch you.”

Marco looked down, unable to meet your eyes, “I noticed.”

You had been ready to go off on another rant, but the lack of empathy and straight up emotions in Marco’s voice left you mystified- leaving you feeling defeated, “Me too.”

“What have you noticed?”

“You don’t love me anymore.”

Marco didn’t reply. He just stared blankly at the wall behind you, his face portraying no emotion. That was all you needed in order to nod numbly before hightailing out of there. As the door slammed shut behind you- all you could do was slide down the wall beside it and stare at the bright red heels adorning your feet.

Although not a single emotion slipped out during the initial breakup, the fallout hit you during the following weeks. You did nothing but eat, sleep and go to class; the first two were still very much lacking. To say the least, the people around you were worried- some would pop their head into your room every now and then only to find you curled up in a ball beneath the covers.

Marco, on the other hand, had seemed completely fine; hanging out with friends and keeping up with his usual routine of work and play- at least, that is what your friends had told you. It was almost like he didn’t care, that he was happy you had ended things. A small part of you knew that wasn’t true though. You knew Marco, having seen him at his lowest and highest points- you knew that he hid his sadness behind a mask of either anger or pure joy. This instance was obviously the latter.

Stumbling out of the shower you had finally managed to drag yourself into, you pulled on an old hoodie as you walked towards the exit; where a notice board stood.

There, on the board, was an advertisement for a Karaoke Night in a local bar.

This is exactly what you needed. A chance to let go, sing silly songs and possibly even meet someone new. You would do anything to fill the crater in your heart that Marco had left behind. So, you texted all your friends (who were really just glad to see you enthusiastic about something) and invited them to go with you- it took place that very night, meaning you only had a number of hours before it began.

The bar was a small, hole in the wall venue that students of the college tend to frequent regularly. Despite the majority of patrons not yet being of legal age, the workers found their way around these guidelines and supplied students with the majority of their alcoholic intake.

“It’s really busy here tonight,” Molly, one of your close friends, spoke as you entered the main area, “You sure you still want to sing?”

Shooting her an amused look, you followed the group over to the bar, “That doesn’t faze me, it means more people can appreciate my gorgeous voice.”

“As someone who has never heard it- I’m not sure about that one.”

The whole group burst into laughter, you just shook your head and let out a small huff yourself, “I cannot wait to prove you wrong.”

As each of you settled into a seat on a high-table close to the bar, you all broke into conversation as you fed off of the energy the bar supplied. For once, you weren’t curled into your bed antagonising over what went wrong in your relationship with Marco or sitting in class unable to concentrate because your ex was all you could think about. For the first time in over a month, you felt really great.

Of course, that was abruptly cut short.

“Y/N,” One of your friends gasped, staring at something behind you with wide eyes, “Don’t turn around but Marco just walked in.”

Your entire body seized up, a cold wave of shock trickled down your body, “You’re joking, right?”

She shook her head, sympathy painted her features before she reached forward and squeezed your hand, “Don’t even give him the benefit of looking at you.” All you could do was nod, blinking through the panic that was quickly rising.

“Mhm,” Molly nodded, rubbing your shoulder, “Don’t even talk to him and then blow him away with your singing.”

“Yeah!” A few girls at the table cheered around you, “You’re still going to do that right?”

“No going back.” You twisted your mouth into a nervous smile as the group surrounding you cheered and held up their respective drinks. Taking the girls advice, you didn’t even look at Marco- which was extremely nerve wracking as you had no idea what he looked like or what state he was in. Your night went from being calm and a relief from drama to a tense and gnawing situation as you fought to not look over at Marco; wherever he was.

“The karaoke event is beginning soon! If you want to take part just come up here and grab the mic from whoever is on stage.”

“That’s your queue.” Molly squealed, shaking your shoulder excitedly.

“Not yet.” You laughed, moving away from her teasingly, “I have to work up my confidence first.”

“Hey,” Molly shoved at your shoulder a lot softer this time, “You’ll be great, don’t even think about Marco.”

“How do you always know what to say?”

Molly shrugged, a smile crinkling at her eyes, “I guess I’m just a great friend.”

“Oh, shut up.” You both broke into laughter and continued to talk until the first act came onto the stage, which you all turned to watch and cheer on. The event had a mix of talent, to say the least- some were extremely talented and left the crowd erupting into cheers, though some were obviously there as a dare or joke.

“Who wants to come up next?” The current singer behind the microphone grinned as they held it before them.

“I’ll go!” You yelled without thinking twice, having drunk a little bit of liquid since the original announcement- your friends around you cheered for what felt like the millionth time but the most interesting point was the head of black hair across the room that whipped around in shock at the sound of your voice.

As you clambered up the stairs towards the stage, the guy manning the sound beckoned you over and asked for your song choice, “I choose you by Alessia Cara.” You grinned as the guy gave you an encouraging thumbs up. Grabbing the microphone, you stood in the middle of the stage and waited for your queue to begin singing.

Relishing in the cheers the crowd gifted you with, you grinned nervously as you walked back to the table; laughing as your friends pulled you into their arms and shouted numerous compliments at you.

“Thanks guys,” You smiled, allowing yourself to breath now that you weren’t under the bright lights of the stage, “Told you I could sing.”

“You sure can,” Molly laughed brightly, slight shock showing in her features, “You should do that more.”

Before you could reply, an unusually timid voice sounded behind you, “Hey Y/N.”

Slowly, you turned to face Marco who stood behind you- he had a nervous look on his face as he wrung his hands in circles and silently begged you.

“Marco.”

“Can I talk to you?”

Oh, hell no.” Molly barked, stepping in front of you, “You’ve already broken her hear once.”

“No, Molly,” You pulled her back, smiling at her reassuringly, “I’ll be okay.”

Marco nodded before leading you out of the building as you walked together side by side- it felt weird for him to not have his hand on the small of your back like he usually would in places like that, which only drove in the fact that you were broken up.

“You were amazing up there.”

“Thanks,” You smiled tightly, hugging yourself with your arms with the same enthusiasm.

“Y/N-”

“What do you want Marco?”

He frowned at you, his eyes teared up slightly, “You didn’t give me the chance to speak, Y/N.”

“What?”

“When you said that I didn’t love you anymore,” He gulped and looked down, “You left before I could prove you wrong.”

You pressed your lips together tightly, “Your reaction was enough of an answer.”

He just shook his head, smiling slightly at your antics, “I left you alone after that because I assumed you wanted nothing to do with me...but then I saw you singing tonight and I realised that you are the one for me.”

“Marco-” Your voice wobbled as you looked on at the man before you.

“Please let me speak,” Marco laughed, “I never stopped loving you and I’m so sorry that I made you feel that way. The stress just got to me and I shouldn’t have let you be a victim of that too.”

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Marco wrapped both of your hands in his, he was begging now, “It isn’t and if you let me I will never shut you out like that again.”

“Really?” You hiccupped slightly, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Yeah.” Marco whispered softly, letting go of your hands to wipe the tears coating your face, “Unless you realised that you’re better off without me and if so-”

“Shut up.” You sighed before reaching forward and pressing a much needed kiss to his lips. Finally, you thought.

“Fuck, I missed that.”

“Just that?”

“No,” He laughed, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs, “I missed everything about you. I know I’ve seemed happy but I really wasn’t.”

You smile sadly at him as you snaked your arms around his neck, “I never stopped loving you too.”

If you would like to be added to my taglist for any future posts- please let me know!

“Good.” And the two of you met in a kiss once again as a nearby street lamp illuminated the night-cold air surrounding you.

#marco peña #Marco peña x reader #Marco x reader #the kissing booth #the kissing booth 2 #Marco #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

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SPOILER-FILLED REVIEW: Talking About That Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Ending

A note on safety: The following movie review undertook the strictest of safety procedures to watch the anime film in cinemas in Japan, including washing hands with disinfectant before and after, sitting in seats apart from others, going to a cinema outside of the busy metro area, and wearing a mask during the entire runtime of the movie. We strongly urge everyone to follow the recommended safety protocol in your country and always wear a mask when in public — not just for your sake, but everyone else’s as well.

For those who are outside of Japan and want to know how the latest (and final) Evangelion film stacks up, we have already published our completely spoiler-free review. For those that want to know more, please read on.

After the airing of the NHK documentary which followed Hideaki Anno and the four-year production of Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time, the unofficial “spoiler ban” was lifted by Studio Khara on March 22. This means, as much as Khara is concerned, we are free to discuss anything and everything Evangelion: 3.0+1.0, like how [omitted for spoilers] kills [spoilers] and LCL [spoilers].

Seriously though, if you don’t want to read any spoilers for Evangelion: 3.0+1.0, then leave. Immediately. Close the tab, don’t scroll down.

This is a warning.

I’m not kidding.

I’m putting an image here as a buffer. It's sweet right?

If you scroll past the next image you will be spoiled for everything in the film. This is your last warning.

"Asuka" as a kid

Welcome to Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time where I may have lied in my previous review, cause things go tumbling down — but in a good way. You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t recall the exact right terminology here on out: between the Doors of Guf, the hundreds of Evangelion models and ships we see, and that ending, it’s hard to keep it all in one head. That’s why this film has four directors.

If you’re already here, you’ve probably read the synopsis going around the internet right now. Yes, it explains what happens on screen, but experiencing it is a different story. Evangelion 3.0+1.0 takes a lot of cues from The End of Evangelion in its final act, but prior to that it is mostly a story of growth for Shinji, where he rejects being depressed (after a heart to heart with black-suit Rei, who then turns into LCL), learns that things aren’t 100% his fault. Shinji goes on to tackle his source of depression head-on; owning up to his past mistakes and taking down his father, who is now literally just a vessel of his own desires.

Unholy Gendo

Something truly missing from Evangelion 3.0, and one of the reasons I loved Evangelion 2.22, was just the gang hanging out together and interacting with the — very scarred — world around them. That scar has vastly grown throughout the 14 years Shinji was missing from the actual 3rd impact (the one at the end of 2.22 was a “near-impact event”) which saw the world covered in the red haze we saw in 3.0. Luckily, WILLE has purification pods that keep the core-ification of the world at bay. We saw that being used in the 12-minute preview, but throughout the film, they’re used extensively to keep the Evangelion wandering the landscapes on the red earth away from the villages that are helping the WILLE cause. They need to get food from somewhere.

This is where we spend a lot of time learning how the characters from Shinji’s class all survived, got paired off, and that Asuka is staying (and is probably in love) with Kensuke. She confesses to Shinji that she loved him when they were kids, but 28-year-old Asuka can’t keep loving someone who hasn’t changed in 14 years. Shinji does accept the confession, saying to her that he loved her too, and she turns into LCL — though that’s in the Anti-Universe and after Asuka meets the “original” Asuka (I’ll get into that). As I said, it’s The End of Evangelion 2.0.

Rei discovering herself in the village

One of the nicest parts of the film is black-suit Rei discovering human emotion and society in the village. Being a clone that likely spent all of her time locked in her room (and without the love of the now inhuman Gendo, which original Rei got), it was unlikely that she learned anything that makes humans human. The concept of “hello” and babies from Toji and Hikari confuses her as she finds a place herself in this village. Admittedly, it was sad to see her go and turn into LCL (from a lack of LCL exposure), but serving as the catalyst for Shinji to get over himself and face his demons was worth it … I guess?

After this, Shinji grows up. Even Mari on a re-introductory sniff claims as much. During his time in the village, he discovers how the settlement stays afloat and that the 14-year-old son of Misato and Kaji (the latter perished in the real 3rd impact) helps keep the village alive. A picture of Shinji and Kaji Jr. helps warm Misato’s chilled heart and gives her the confidence to let Shinji pilot Unit 01 again, much to the disdain of multiple members of the WILLE crew.

All of this is nice. Unlike the despair and hopelessness felt in 3.0, the entire first three parts of the film are uplifting and bring moments of joy. Seeing black-suit Rei smile as she came to terms with herself was just utterly beautiful.

Then Shinji decides to get in the robot.

This is where I’m going to get into the Hideaki Anno talk, because this film, as well as the rest of the anime versions of the Evangelion franchise up to this point, is basically just a self-examination of the man’s mental state. In the spoiler-free review, I called Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 the antithesis of Evangelion: 3.0. And that’s true, but it is also an antithesis to The End of Evangelion: A rejection of the depression Anno felt while creating the 20-plus-year-old film. There’s no doubt in my mind that the journey of Shinji through these Rebuild films is the journey of Anno creating Evangelion, with 3.0 being the lowest point.

But this isn’t just felt in the story of 3.0+1.0, it’s also felt in the way it was presented. The entire final act of the film is basically a happier version of the “tumbling down” scene from The End of Evangelion, just with some more interesting aspects to it along with some inventive filmmaking — including making Lillith’s face live-action. That was haunting.

This includes the above scene, which got a lot of flak on social media for being very poorly animated when it appeared in a trailer. Even I was confused over the inclusion of such poor animation in what is one of the most hyped anime films of all time. Funnily enough, it was Anno trolling. The scene comes from the ending, where the two Eva’s fight through the history of Evangelion, with this scene either representing a testing stage for CGI or one of the many Evangelion video games. The poor animation makes sense in the film … mostly.

Over multiple film-like sets, the two Evangelions duke it out — one with Shinji, the other Gendo — over their ideals. This takes them to Misato’s apartment, the school, and even where Pen-Pen (or his offspring, I don’t know how long Penguins live) resides in 3.0+1.0. Before cutting to each of the different scenes, an Eva smashes through the set wall and onto a production stage.

I also said in the spoiler-free review that Anno “takes everything he knows about animation and filmmaking to deliver the perfect end to Evangelion,” and it shows when you see the (animated) production stage filled with props, miniature cities, and controls that you’d probably see on a production stage for a live-action Evangelion. Again though, this part is animated.

Mari at the End

The surrealness doesn’t end here. When Shinji “wins” and chooses to reset the world without Evangelion, the animation breaks. Shinji devolves into key animation, then layouts, then into a storyboard, which is then broken by Mari bringing color back into Shinji’s world on that beach. No “how disgusting” here, only happiness.

The film ends with an adult Mari and an adult Shinji at Ube Station. As the music of Hikaru Utada’s “One Last Kiss” swelled up through the speakers, the animated backgrounds slowly transitioned into a live-action drone shot of the area surrounding the hometown of Hideaki Anno.

A poster for Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 showing Shinji on the tracks outside Ube Station, which I discussed when the poster was first released.

This is how I know Hideaki Anno is done with Evangelion. While yes, he has said he is done and feels no personal connection to the franchise anymore, the end of the film is a deeply personal one that clearly shows the anime creator cares about his creation and is now happy enough to see leave home and become its own thing — if anyone else chooses to pick it up.

Shin Evangelion (the Japanese name for the film) is the true form of Evangelion that Anno set out to create over 25 years ago. While it wouldn’t have looked anything like it does now, the emotion poured into one of the longest animated films ever made makes that point as clear as the bright blue sea.

Some other various interesting spoiler points:

I’m not sure if character designer Yoshiyuki Sadamoto was lying about him not knowing Mari’s story and just making that one-shot chapter of the Evangelion manga on a whim or whether Anno took what Sadamoto wrote and expanded on it, cause Mari was right there in school with Gendo and Yui exactly as the chapter laid it out. Unless she’s also a clone...

There’s a really good shot of CG Asuka trying to force-feed Shinji, which was a direct evolution from this test footage back in 2018.

On the topic of Asuka, she had a small version of a purification pod in her eye that, when opened, unleashed an angel, and in turn let her meet her “original.” It’s not explained whether the original is Langley Soryu from the TV anime series or not.

Also, she’s a clone, like Rei and Kaworu as part of the “Shikinami” series. Interestingly, Mari Makinami also has “nami” in her name...

Ritsuko did nothing but shoot Gendo, mimicking the scene from The End of Evangelion. The shot was as useless as her character arc in the Rebuild films.

This film has to be set in at least the third continuity of Evangelion, as the TV series is directly referenced in the production stage and thrice does mean three...

Sakura is one of the most grounded characters in the film, with her asking the true question of “why the heck are you letting him in ANOTHER Evangelion?!” Let’s hope the live-action world she is now in is good to her.

Evangelion: 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time is currently showing in theaters across Japan, there’s no word on an international release at this stage.

Daryl Harding is a Japan Correspondent for Crunchyroll News. He also runs a YouTube channel about Japan stuff called TheDoctorDazza, tweets at @DoctorDazza, and posts photos of his travels on Instagram.

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features.

By: Daryl Harding

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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monstersandmaw · 5 years ago

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Mute male siren x female reader (nsfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

This is a tier reward for a lovely patron who wanted a siren who's never been able to use his voice, and is thus treated poorly by his own kind for being 'useless' in their eyes. Hope you enjoy!

It’s been up on my Patreon for a while now, so if you want to have access to stories before they go up on Tumblr, plus a number of exclusive rewards, access to our Discord server, polls, artwork, character concepts, etc. then head on over and check it out!

___

It was the eerie melody - almost more of a feeling in your chest than a sound in your ears - that drew you out onto the jetty from the beach where you’d been walking barefoot, flip-flops dangling from the fingers of one hand. You knew about the shoal of sirens who lived and hunted off the reef that guarded Starfall Bay, but you’d never seen them; they didn’t come too close to shore very often after all, preferring the vast open waters of the channel beyond.

Something about their song that afternoon seemed harsh, cruel, despite the plainchant beauty of it and a tear spilled from your eye before you’d even noticed it forming. The song faded as the sirens clearly dived back down again, and it left you strangely hollow. Humans were far from immune to the hunting calls and songs of those hauntingly strange creatures, and in the silent wake of their absence, you found yourself humming softly. The tune was a cheerful one as you tried to rally your spirits a little.

Squinting against the reflections of the strong summer sun against the rippling water, you clambered down to sit on the edge of the dock so that you could dangle your feet in the cool, clear water. A little crab scuttled around in the rocks beneath the jetty’s pilings, minding its own business, and you watched him for a bit. As the hairs on your arms prickled suddenly, you looked up and found that you were not alone.

Lying half slumped over a nearby rock which had been smoothed by the constant caress of the sea was a creature that was unmistakably a siren. You frowned, wondering what they could be doing just metres from the shoreline, and half-hauled out of the water. Something about their size and shape suggested that they were male, and you stared openly at the stunning colours of his tail and upper body. The thick muscle was covered with inky blue scales which were in turn dotted here and there with pearlescent scales. It brought to mind the clearest of night skies. The fan of his tail was feathered and spread out in the water behind him, while his upper body was smooth and free of scales. His skin there, however, was a dark blue-grey, and he had little fins of iridescent blue at his elbows. Plastered to his head and hanging halfway down his back, his hair was black as an oil slick, and he stared at you with huge, dolorous, sapphire eyes, blinking slowly.

“Hi,” you called, waving. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a siren up here before. Do you come here a lot?”

He waved back, somewhat hesitantly, and then gestured with a clawed hand at his throat, opening his mouth silently.

“Oh,” you said. “You don’t speak…? Is that right?”

In answer, he gave a slow, sad nod, those bright, completely blue eyes turning down to stare at a spot of vivid green seaweed on the rock.

Something about his dejected posture made you keep talking, so you asked, “Do you know Sign?”

His head jerked back up at that and he tilted it curiously to one side in a silent question.

“You know, Sign Language?” you asked. “It’s what people who can’t hear or talk - or sometimes both - use to communicate. They use their hands.”

The siren froze but his lips parted in soft astonishment, eyes wide with wonder. He clearly hadn’t known that there were other ways of expressing himself, and your heart twisted at the anguish in his storm-blue eyes.

“My friend teaches it,” you went on, thinking on your feet. “I don’t know it myself, but if you’d like to learn, I’m sure I can ask him for you.”

He nodded emphatically but then went still again.

“What? What’s wrong?”

He made an empty kind of cough, mouth opening in an unvoiced hiss of frustration - more of a choke, really - flashing razor sharp teeth. Then he looked back at you and rubbed his thumb against his fingertips in the gesture that said ‘money’ almost the world over. He’d clearly been around landfolk often enough to have picked that one up.

Waggling your legs slowly through the water as you thought, you pouted and then said, “I can ask if he’d be willing to help out anyway… He’s the kind of guy that would do that.”

The hope that kindled in those sad eyes nearly tore your chest in two.

“I’ll ask him right now. Hang on.”

One quick text later and Jera was agreeing to come down to the beach in ten minutes to meet the siren. The bright green of the lizardfolk’s tail seemed to fascinate your siren, and the two of them seemed to hit it off almost immediately. You couldn’t help but notice the way he flinched away though whenever either of you made a sudden gesture or raised your voices - even to laugh - and as you and Jera made your way back up the beach after promising to return the next morning, your friend voiced his concerns.

“For a siren to have no voice…” he muttered darkly. “He must be the lowest of the low… he…”

“He seems to desperate to communicate,” you commented.

Jera shook his head and made a soft growl like an alligator. “It’s more than that. They use their voices for everything: hunting, mating, socialising… Without that, he… he has no role, no function.”

Your heart ached for him and you said, “You mind if I sit in on the lessons too? That way he’s got me to talk to as well…”

“I kind of assumed you’d want that anyway,” Jera grinned. “We’ll start tomorrow.”

Over the next three weeks, you and Jera spent hours down at the shore with the siren. He was literate as it turned out, and at the start of your first lesson he wrote his name with a talon in the hard, wet sand.

“Ilta,” Jera repeated, looking up at him. “That means ‘evening’,” he added, and both of you eyed the starry night sky of Ilta’s tail.

“Appropriate,” you grinned and Ilta blushed darker. His face was so sharply defined, his features so intense and clearly belonging to a predator, that to see him turn a little softer sent a thrill through you.

When he saw the way you smiled, he signed, “Thank you,” with a hesitant and bashful hand.

One morning perhaps a month into your daily lessons, as you hurried through the town, with your heart fluttering and your chest light with excitement to see him again, your phone buzzed and you paused at the harbour to read the text.

Jera: Hey, I can’t make it today - something’s come up and they need me to cover for another member of staff at school. Sorry! x

You replied that it was fine, and that you and Ilta could practise together anyway. However, he wasn’t there when you got to your usual meeting spot in the cove, and a stab of worry hit you like a hammer blow. Eventually, after thirty long minutes of pacing the sand and staring at the water, the surface of the sea rippled in a rush of bubbles, and you saw Ilta’s dark tail propelling him towards you.

“Hey,” you called, waving to him, but when you saw how dejected he looked, how broken down, you knelt in the water, heedless of the splashing waves, and held out your arms to him. “Come here,” you murmured.

He lay in your lap, his chest heaving silently, and he flung his lean, muscular arms around your waist. Stroking his wet hair seemed to calm him and after a moment you felt him shiver. “Ilta, what happened?” you asked softly, but he only tightened his grip on you and buried his face from sight. “Ok, it’s ok,” you crooned. “I’m here.”

After a while, you recalled something that Jera had said about song being so important to the everyday life of a siren, and you began to hum quietly. It was the tune you’d sung on the day you’d first met him; a variation of a folk melody that had always cheered you up when your grandmother had sung it to you. Within seconds, his body went limp beneath your touch and he let his hands fall to the sand on either side of your thighs. He listened to you sing it through twice before he took a deep, shuddering breath, and then pushed himself upright.

His strange gaze met yours and he reached a lethally-clawed hand for your throat, his fingertips just brushing against your skin as you continued to sing. The urge to stop was overwhelming, but something made you keep humming. He blinked slowly, dark lips slightly parted, and he continued to touch you. Eventually he withdrew his hand and signed an embarrassed, “Thank you… I’m sorry.”

“What happened?” you asked, using your hands instead of your voice now.

He shuffled slightly, splashing you as he got comfortable enough that he could sit half-coiled up on himself, balanced and able to use both hands to speak. “Sorry,” he grinned as you wiped the droplets off your face with a quiet laugh. “I… I had a bad day with my shoal.”

“What do you mean?”

He rolled his eyes in frustration, though it wasn’t directed at you. “They use their voices on me,” he admitted.

“I don’t understand…” you said gently, movements of your hands small, quiet, faltering.

He turned his gaze back to meet yours and said, “You know how we hunt, right? We lure our prey in and then we use our voices to stun them. The sounds are…” he paused, frowning, searching for a way to explain it to you. “You know how some whales hunt by blasting sound at fish, making the air inside them expand or leaving them twitching and immobile…”

Horror slid into your stomach and you stared at him. “They did that to you?”

Ilta nodded. “They’ve always done it,” he went on. “But since I’ve been coming here and learning to talk another way, they’ve been doing it more and more. I… I can’t defend myself from that.”

“Can you leave?” you blurted aloud.

He shrugged. “Probably, but only if I stayed in and around the harbour. I learned to hunt in the shallows the way other merfolk do, with a spear of sharpened shell, but they think that’s hilarious of course.”

You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and he smiled broadly.

“What?”

“I love the noises you make,” he said. “Sometimes it’s just really cute and other times it’s beautiful. You have a lovely voice you know?”

You snorted softly, flushing. “You should have heard my grandmother. She was a real singer.”

“What’s a real singer?” he asked.

“You know, someone who sings for audiences… People pay to come and hear her…”

“Oh,” he said. “You sang for me though,” he added, his movements suddenly shrinking down to barely-there twitches of his hands. He’d picked it up much more quickly than you had, and you almost missed what he said.

“I couldn’t think of any other way to make you feel better,” you said shyly. “Did it work?”

“Yeah.” It was obvious that there was more to it though, but he didn’t go on immediately.

“Did… Did I do something wrong?” you asked, trying to catch his eye but he was too busy looking at a patch of bare sand just beside you.

He shook his head.

“Then what is it…?”

He swallowed and looked up at you at last. “It’s something a mate might do,” he said with trembling fingers. “No one has ever done anything like that for me before. I thought they never would… you know… because of…” he finished by gesturing weakly at his voiceless throat.

Feeling brave, you reached for his face and traced your thumb across his cheekbone. “Ilta,” you said and he brought his hand up to your throat again before dropping it so that he could speak.

“I love your voice,” he said. “I wish I could sing for you. I wish… I…” His hands fell limply into the water beside his tail and he sighed. Slowly he brought the fingers of his right hand up to his own throat, claws digging into the muscle of his neck. For a horrible moment you thought he might hurt himself, but he relaxed a second later and opened his mouth. As he exhaled, gills flaring briefly in his neck, he let out a wet choking sound. It was just air in his throat, with no vocalisation at all. “I can’t,” he signed. “I’ve never been able to…”

You took his hands in yours briefly once he’d stopped talking and kissed his knuckles gently. “I know it’s… it’s been awful for you,” you said as you continued to kiss his cold skin, “But… I think that not having a voice has made you partly who you are. I’m not saying I wouldn’t love you if you could sing, but… I love who you are, Ilta. I love spending time with you and listening to your stories about what it’s like underwater… I would never have known any of that if I hadn’t met you.”

Ilta listened to your words and stared at you, stunned, barely breathing. Eventually he slid his hands free of yours and asked, “You mean that?”

“Of course I do,” you reassured him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked immediately, and when you nodded, he grinned again.

He knocked you back into the sand, pressing his whole body against yours, and it was as if his touch became his song. Silently, he sculpted his feelings for you against your skin, running his hands up your legs, his gills working as he became more and more aroused by the feel of you. He lifted your top and raked his teeth over your warm skin, making you gasp and cry out. The cove was mercifully pretty empty, with only a few people about, but they were a long way off.

His fluke flailed in the surf as he dragged himself up towards your shoulders, his body still pressed along yours. His long hair fell to one side and you looked up into his eyes. “You were going to kiss me,” you grinned.

Ilta’s answering smile was sharp and wicked but full of fondness, and he kissed you hard enough that you let out a low moan. One of his cold hands wrapped lightly around your throat as you continued to mewl and groan under his touch, and you knew that his touch was his answering song for you. Together, the two of you made a song of your own. When you said as much, he tipped his head back, almost in victory, and rutted up against your thigh, his scales suddenly slick where they touched you.

Ilta continued to touch you with reverence and wonder until you could no longer stop the sounds from falling from you. He took every single one of them and returned them with his body until the two of you were gasping together, sharing a breath as he spilled his release across your thighs, his forehead pressed to your collarbones and his fingers tangled in your hair.

With one final, soft, decadent moan, you kissed the top of his head and he signed something vague that might have been ‘thank you’ but you weren’t quite sure. To be fair though, you weren’t in a much better position to be articulating anything either.

—

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aion-rsa · 3 years ago

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Ranking Cinderella Adaptations

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A dream is a wish your heart makes, and if your wish is to see countless takes on the beloved fairy tale of Cinderella, then consider your dreams having come true many times over—including this year, with a new Cinderella by way of Amazon Studios. This latest adaptation seems to have combined qualities of many of its predecessors: it’s playfully anachronistic and eschews the traditional Disney or Rodgers & Hammerstein songs in favor of a tracklist of modern pop covers; it also engages with Cinderella’s career aspirations beyond fitting her foot into a glass slipper.

But this Cinderella owes everything to the other soot-stained girls, animated and otherwise, who wished with all their hearts for decades before her. How does the new adaptation compare to the modern fairy tales, animated classics, and another fairy tale riff with an outstanding Stephen Sondheim tune? Check out our ranking of Cinderella adaptations, from worst to best.

10. A Cinderella Story (2004)

This cult classic is a clever retelling, with peak early-aughts casting of Hilary Duff and Chad Michael Murray as the star-crossed, Cyrano de Bergerac-inspired lovers: Sam toils away at her late father’s Southern California diner, under the heel of a delightful Jennifer Coolidge as her vain stepmother, while Austin is the closest thing to high school royalty as the quarterback with a sensitive side. Regina King as the longtime diner employee-turned-metaphorical fairy godmother who gets Sam to the homecoming masquerade dance is the other key bit of casting, but you’d have to really be a fan of the “fairy tales in high school” subgenre to get on board. Plus, the stable of derivative direct-to-video sequels makes the sparkle wear off with each new, formulaic installment released.

9. Cinderella (2021)

Kay Cannon’s (Pitch Perfect) progressive plot urging entrepreneurial dressmaker Ella (Camilla Cabello), her bitterly materialistic stepmother (Idina Menzel), and other original female characters to choose themselves over the supposed security of marriage is not quite enough to balance the cringey modern soundtrack and anachronistic witticisms. It’s too bad, because this Cinderella puts forth ambitious ideas, and any production with Billy Porter as the fairy godmother should be nothing but fabulous. Compared to most of her predecessors, this Cinderella is a distinctively fresh role model for the next generation of kids, but adults won’t find much magic in her story.

8. Ella Enchanted (2004)

This is a tough one, because the source material—that is, Gail Carson Levine’s 1997 middle grade novel—is unquestionably one of the very best Cinderella adaptations: Ella’s curse of obedience is an apt commentary on manipulating young girls into giving up their agency under the guise of people-pleasing. But the film—despite its adorable, baby-faced stars Anne Hathaway and Hugh Dancy—overcomplicates an already daring plot with a throne-stealing subplot (that Cary Elwes, as the unnecessary evil uncle, can’t save) and an unforgivably cheesy cover of Queen’s “Somebody to Love.” Hathaway’s voice is sweeter than Nicholas Galitzine’s rendition in the new Cinderella, but the giants dressed in early-aughts miniskirts strain even the most loose definitions of fantasy. Despite all that, it (mostly) sells Ella struggling against abuses of her obedience in a way that’s still more revelatory than many straight adaptations. Still, you’ve got plenty of better movie choices; forget this adaptation and just read the book.

7. Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1965)

Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II originally wrote their classic musical for television broadcast instead of the stage, though it has found its way to the latter. CBS’ second TV production (following the original 1957 version starring Julie Andrews) introduced a bright-eyed Lesley Ann Warren (a.k.a. Miss Scarlet from Clue) as Cinderella, and unlike its predecessor was able to be recorded in color. Between the vivid hues, Warren’s expressive acting, and the array of sets, it all contributed to the feeling of watching a taped performance—an incredibly charming one, at that. But the effect does come off as overwrought at times, making it the lowest of the three specifically Rodgers & Hammerstein adaptations on the list.

6. Cinderella (2015)

While visually Kenneth Branagh’s live-action adaptation of the animated Disney classic hews so closely to its source material that it feels like a lost opportunity to be more original, there are some sly plot tweaks. Lily James’ Ella is not hopelessly naïve about her abusive home situation, yet manages to keep up the mantra of “have courage and be kind” through even the worst mistreatment. Streamlining the classic songs to score strengthens the plot, with Ella’s rare occasion of singing being what ultimately saves her. Fans of the blue dress and romantic vibe will have much to swoon over, even if they’re not surprised.

5. Into the Woods (2014)

Or, then, what if I am? / What a Prince would envision? / But then how can you know / Who you are til you know / What you want? Which I don’t… Anna Kendrick brings us a relatably existential Cinderella in this movie adaptation of Stephen Sondheim’s musical about various fairy tale characters who wind up with questionably happy ever afters—including Cinderella, who decides “not to decide,” then ends up with a philandering Prince. It’s not a complete Cinderella story, but it’s a more memorable performance in a handful of scenes than entire movies have attempted.

4. Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1957)

Despite only surviving in black-and-white form, CBS’ original TV broadcast shines thanks to its star: Julie Andrews, then performing My Fair Lady on Broadway, who makes this Cinderella both an amalgamation of her then-current and future roles and a performance all its own. You can see glimmers of her comic talents as Maria in The Sound of Music—this Cinderella also has more wit than other versions—but it’s her voice that elevates Rodgers & Hammerstein’s adaptation of Charles Perrault’s fairy tale into something timeless.

3. Cinderella (1950)

Few Cinderella adaptations have achieved the same sweeping sense of sheer romance in the Disney animated classic: the painted backgrounds, the dreamy sequences reflected in soap bubbles and sparkling through the palace gardens, the surprisingly high emotional stakes that make the resolution all the sweeter. And while it’s become a common Disney trope, the requisite scene in which the stepsisters cruelly rip apart Cinderella’s dress adds a layer of wickedness not present in the Rodgers & Hammerstein adaptations, nor successfully recreated in any of the live-action versions. The same goes for the goofy mice singing “Cinderelly, Cinderelly”—every subsequent CGI mouse lacks the warmth that goes into a believable animal companion. That said, the animated movie’s legacy is somewhat marred by its direct-to-video sequels of diminishing returns, though you also have to give them props for pulling an Avengers: Endgame 12 years earlier with Cinderella 3: A Twist in Time.

2. Rodgers & Hammerstein’s Cinderella (1997)

For many of us, Disney’s animated Cinderella was a childhood classic, but The Wonderful World of Disney’s ‘90s production was the first time the story truly felt magical. Rodgers & Hammerstein’s songs were updated with contemporary beats, bridging the forty years between the first broadcast and this version: “Impossible” is one of the best songs from the show, but it hasn’t been truly sung until Whitney Houston is belting it out to a starry-eyed Brandy. The production’s effortlessly diverse casting—Whoopi Goldberg as the queen, Paolo Montalban as the prince, Bernadette Peters as the stepmother—only amplifies the universal nature of the story. Almost twenty-five years later, this adaptation still feels like the television event it was when it premiered.

1. Ever After: A Cinderella Story (1998)

A truly successful adaptation is one that doesn’t have to feel beholden to its source material. By opening with the Brothers Grimm explaining the inspiration behind their own interpretation of Cinderella, Ever After rewrites all of the familiar themes into a historical fiction—specifically, Renaissance-era France—context. Danielle’s (Drew Barrymore) misfortune as an orphan servant girl is so believable thanks to the cruelty of her stepmother’s (Anjelica Huston, a legend) abuse, but so is her determination and ingenuity to rise above her station. While Disney’s animated Cinderella is romantic, Ever After is a romance: Danielle disguises herself as a comtesse in order to spend time with Prince Henry (Dougray Scott), and they develop an actual relationship, complete with rejection once her subterfuge is revealed. Plus, Leonardo da Vinci is there for comic relief and an unintentional fairy godmother assist! If you want your Cinderella story with a compelling feminist arc but you’re also burnt out on the songs, this is your happily ever after.

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Cinderella will begin streaming on Amazon Video on September 3rd.

The post Ranking Cinderella Adaptations appeared first on Den of Geek.

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