#idk if I will continue this fully at least I might do a second page of dialogue

[rh0mbus0fruin]

Vacation Exchange (page one)

[ariundercovers]

When Paths Cross (Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~7k words

Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Warnings: explicit 18+ graphic descriptions of sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

a/n: This idea came to me partially in a semi-lucid dream but then I ran with it and it rotted my brain until I could get it fully out onto a page. I really love this concept, so I'll be doing at least a sequel, which is already in progress! Sorry for letting the smut get away from me. Javi possessed me, you can blame him for this. I hope you enjoy it!

Read the next part (II) HERE

Laredo was just about what you expected it might be. 

Simultaneously urban and rural, with the Rio Grande rushing right through it, it was a huge shift, moving from the northeast down to the US-Mexico border. But you liked the museum that hired you and it was a step up, or two really, in your career. You had always wanted the freedom of being the head curator of an institution.

So it goes without saying that when you took the job, you weren’t in it to be making friends. Yet, here you are, on the outskirts of town once again, hand raised as you reach for the knocker of the old farmhouse and tapping it against the door twice.

Chucho opens the door in his wide-brimmed hat with a big smile on his face.

“Come in, come in! We’re almost ready.” He leads you into the house, one hand gently on your lower back as he pushes you toward the kitchen. There's a man standing there, hip propped against the counter with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He’s wearing the most frustratingly well-fitted flannel shirt you think you’ve ever seen and a pristinely trimmed mustache on his face. He lifts his glass almost imperceptively toward you and nods as Chucho steps in, gesturing toward him. 

“This is my son, Javier.”

The man smiles at you, eyes trailing up and down your body once or twice before he gives a curt nod. “Just Javi is good, too.” 

You nod back and offer your name as well, feeling a bit of heat radiating in your cheeks from his intense stare. You turn away from him to Chucho and ask him, “Anything I can do to help? I brought pastelillos de guayaba - where I’m from you don’t dare show up at someone’s house empty-handed. I hope that’s okay?” He takes the tin from you with a grin and walks it over to the counter, setting it down.

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful. Thank you. Why don’t you have a seat?” He pulls out one of the dining room chairs and you do as he asks, eyes flitting back and forth between him and Javi as you go. 

They bring the food out to the table relatively quickly as you all sit down for a shared meal. The conversation is easy like you’ve fit in with them forever and not just for the last few hours. There are no awkward lulls like you’re used to, just warmth and camaraderie and an easygoing sense that you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced before. It’s captivating, and you want more of it.

After dessert, Javi brings out the whiskey, which Chucho promptly declines, but the two of you continue to drink as you all chat. Sometime later, when Chucho stands up and announces he’s turning in for the evening, you look at your watch and see that it’s past midnight. You really had wanted to be home by now. And now you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome, too.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t realize how late it was, I’m so sorry, Chucho-”

He shakes his head ‘no’ in response and offers you a smile as he tucks in his chair. “No, no. I’m an old man. You young people please feel free to continue. I’ve only met my limit on waking hours today. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Chucho. Thank you for having me.” You stand up and walk over, wrapping him up in a big hug before he heads off and you turn, heading back for your seat once again. You go to reach for your jacket on the back of the chair, but Javi stands and leans across the table to stop you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Wait. You don’t have to go just yet, you’ve been drinking.” You sigh, knowing he’s right, but you only nursed two whiskeys all night long and are feeling tired beyond anything else.

“I’m okay, I don’t want to overstay. It’s been such a lovely evening. But I should get going home.” You stop reaching for the jacket, but you look at him sternly. He narrows his eyes for a moment.

“It’s a hike back into the city though, isn’t it?”

“A bit. Maybe half an hour or so.”

He pauses and takes a breath before he responds. “Let me drive you at least.”

You shake your head and sigh, hating to be troubling them so much. “I can’t ask that, then someone would have to come get me in the morning for my car, too? I don’t want to burden you all. It’s alright, I’ll manage.”

He tugs the jacket out of your hands and places it back on the table, still holding onto your wrist. “Come on, muñeca, give me something. If you won’t let me drive you then why don’t you just stay? You can head out first thing in the morning if you need. The guest bedroom is all made up already, and then you’re not driving back this late. Take it easy.” 

You sigh. His logic is sound, but you feel terrible about imposing do heavily on them after they cooked such a lovely meal for you and invited you over in the first place. The internal conflict is apparent on your face. Javi raises his glass then with a smirk. “I’ll offer you another drink? Or two. Three? However many you want, chiquita.”

You laugh lightly at the nickname and can’t help but smile back, slowly letting your guard down as you set your hands back down on the chair. “Alright. I’ll stay. But you owe me at least one more drink.” He smiles widely at you and moves over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a clearly expensive bottle of tequila and showing it to you.

“What do you think? Or we can go back to the whiskey, instead.” Your little laugh turns into a full on giggle as he pulls out the tequila and you looks up at him from where you’ve seated yourself back down with a smile.

“Oh you can always get me to drink tequila.” He brings it back over to the table along with two ceramic shot cups, pouring you each a small cup before he takes a seat and pops the lid back onto the bottle. He raises his cup to you and you match his motions with your own.

“To… fresh starts.” He smiles as he says it, and you can tell his sincerity from his tone alone let alone the easy expression on his face.

“Fresh starts,” you repeat, clinking your glasses together before you each down the shot in an easy swallow. You hum, contemplating the taste, and nod along with it. “Oh that is good tequila. Dangerous.”  Javi laughs at your response but agrees with you, pouring a second small cup for each of them.

“We know a family in New Laredo with a tequila business close to Cancún. We always get it from them.” You nod and lift your glass, sipping at the liquid this time to get more of the taste. You contemplate it for a long while before Javi speaks up again, eyes searing into your own. “Thank you, also. For indulging him. He’s been talking about this all week, I’m just glad he has something to obsess over more than just me coming home.”

You tilt your head at him as he talks, noting the sincerity behind his eyes as he explains. It warms your heart that Chucho feels so strongly about your presence already. He’s been such a guiding light for you since the moment you arrived in town. “Its not an indulgence at all, Javi,” you respond. “I love Chucho. He’s been like a father to me ever since I got here, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Maybe turned around and run back north already.” 

Javi chuckles at your description and reaches across the table to squeeze your wrist again. Your skin burns where his touches your own. “Well, thank you, anyway. It’s good to see him excited about something that isn’t me.”

“I should be thanking you, really,” you counter. “Thank you for letting me borrow him.”

He snorts then, laughing boisterously. “Muñeca, you can borrow him any time you want. No reservation required.” He laughs again and it makes you think back to the first time you ended up on this property - by accident. 

It was only your second day in town and you were just driving around, trying to get your bearings. Somehow, you missed the fact that after a certain point the streets and roads are no longer numbered or labeled, and you found yourself crisscrossing through farms and ranches without any idea which way was up and which way was down. You parked your car on the side of the road and cried, hard, with no way to figure out where to go from there. The gas tank only had a few more miles left on it and you felt screwed. You just wanted to go home. 

This place wasn’t meant for you.

But then, Chucho, like a guardian angel, came walking out from the ranch, right over to your car. Afraid that he’d yell at you to get off of his property, you rolled down your window and immediately started apologizing profusely, trying to explain your newness and inability to navigate the outskirts. You were afraid, worried that he’d go off on you or worse, but instead, he put a hand on your door and leaned into the open window with a gentle smile.

“Señorita. You look lost. Why don’t you slow it down, try that again, and I’ll figure out how to help you out of here?” The rest is history. He drove you to a gas station, picked up some gas for your car, filled it for you, and then gave you directions back into the city from the ranch. He didn’t let you try to follow them yourself though - he drove ahead of you, leading you the entire way. You don’t think you’ve ever been so grateful to another person in your life.

He invited you back to the ranch the next week, and since then, it’s been a bit of a standing date. You come over, ask him a million questions about the town and the area, and inevitably you help him with some kind of technology issue or bring him a home-cooked meal of some kind, one of the few pastimes you were more than glad to bring back with you to Laredo.

So, when Javi suggests that you were indulging Chucho, it sets a fire of laughter in your belly. If anything, you think he might be indulging you.

“I meant it, Javi. Thank you,” you counter. “You have an amazing dad. I wish I could steal him as my own, sometimes.” Blinking back at you, an interesting expression crosses his face for a brief moment. It’s so brief that you almost miss it, before he turns back into his smirking, good-looking self.

“Well, don’t think me coming home means you mean any less to him. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but he’s happy to have you around. I think he gets lonely out here.” 

“I would, too, if I were out here by myself all the time. But… he’ll be less lonely now, right? With you around again? Or are you not planning on staying?” You briefly wonder if this line of questioning is too intrusive, but you’re genuinely curious about it, so you let it slip anyway.

“Not sure, just yet. Sticking around for a while. Gotta figure out where things lead me next. Been thinking about taking over the ranch for him eventually, but I’ve never been the best rancher. Not like he is. Lots to learn.” You nod in agreement and sip at your tequila again.

“Makes sense. I’m sure tons goes into running a ranch like this. It’s a huge property, too. Chucho gave me both the walking tour and the horseback tour.”  Javi’s brows raise in surprise and he makes a face of approval.

“See, that’s how I know you’re special. Anybody can get a walking tour, but the horseback tour? That’s only for the best of the best.” You laugh a little to yourself again, loosened slightly by the tequila and made shockingly comfortable in Javi’s presence by his gentle banter.

“That so?” 

You realize, then, that his hand still hasn’t left your wrist.

You swallow thickly and he forces a response, eyes burning into you like sunshine through a magnifying glass. “Yeah. That’s so.”

There’s a long lull in the conversation as you look at each other, neither of you willing to break the eye contact that, in most situations, you’d feel horribly uncomfortable with. With Javi, however? It somehow feels… right. 

His thumb swipes across the bottom of your forearm, stroking your skin softly with that molten hot touch of his. It feels like it’s melting both your brain and your soul, breaking you down into a puddle for him that can barely remember its own name. His voice is smooth like whiskey when he breaks the comfortable silence. 

“You got someone waiting for you at home?”

You answer before you can think too hard about the question, which is probably a good thing. You’d likely clam up if you thought about the connotations too hard. “Home here or home home?”

He smirks and snickers for a moment, leaning in toward you across the table. 

“Either. Both.”

All you can do is shake your head, ‘no’, as he leans in further, one hand reaching up to your cheek as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good. I like that answer.”

Swallowing heavily, you feel the way your breath hitches in your throat, the way you naturally open your mouth a little for him, already overly willing to respond to his beck and call. Lifting your arm, you place your palm on the back of his, stroking the side of his wrist as he tugs your lip down for a moment before releasing it.

“Que linda muñequita…” Your hand trails down his arm, stopping to wrap around his elbow and lower bicep, squeezing softly. How can something so simple, so basic as eye contact and the palm of one’s hand, feel so damn erotic? You’re completely lost to it.

“Unos labios tan preciosos... besables, creo.” You blink back another sigh but can’t help the little whimper that falls from your mouth, closing your eyes in embarrassment as you take a long, slow, deep breath. His thumb slides away from your mouth, then, and you’re already regretting not having more control over yourself for a long moment until suddenly your train of thought is completely broken as there are a pair of warm, smooth lips on yours, moving slowly as his hand urges you closer to him.

You’re stunned by it, frozen in shock for a long while before your hand is squeezing his arm tightly and you’re kissing him back, meeting his every movement as the heat between you two quickens faster than you could have ever imagined. Your free hand floats up to the side of his neck, winding into the back of his hair and tugging slightly, like you might just float away if he pulls away from you now.

His lips are heavenly. Perfectly smooth, pouty, and plump, and the glorious scratch of his mustache on your upper lip while you kiss him sends you reeling. It’s not like you’ve been thinking about it all night, or anything.

His tongue darts out from between his lips, teasing along the seam of your own, and you open them for him happily, letting him lead as he starts to explore your mouth, tangling his tongue with your own. Another little moan slips out and you get the most gorgeously deep and rumbling groan from low in his chest as a reward.

“Muñeca… You’re killin’ me. That pretty mouth ‘a yours is making the most perfect little sounds for me already.” He pulls away from you and you gape at him, lips swollen and spit-shined and you have the delirious urge to bite that offensively gorgeous lower lip of his. He swipes his thumb across his own lip this time, a wild smirk on the side of his mouth as he stands, releasing you completely and stepping to the side so that he can push his chair in.

You’re nervous for a moment that you’ve been reading this wrong all along and have just managed to fuck it all up somehow, worried that you’ll have to walk out on Javi and Chucho, until Javi reaches his hand out to you, offering you help out of your chair. You take it, of course, staring up at him as you stand. He continues to look at you with that chilling smirk across his lips, quickly turning downright devilish.

“Pretty little thing you are.” He twirls you around in front of him, watching closely as he devours you with his burning gaze. You stop then when you’ve made a full 360, glad for the gentle reminder that, actually, you’re still not drunk yet. 

Thank fuck. You really want to remember this come morning.

There’s a question that’s threatening to rise to the surface, and you’re just loose enough that it starts to blurt out before you even havea  chance to stop it. “But what do we do about-” 

Javi cuts you off with a ‘shhh’ and a finger to your lips. “Don’t you worry that pretty head about a thing. We’ll figure it out in the morning. We’re two adults, no? Wouldn’t be the worst thing to get caught sneaking around.” You chuckle nervously and shrug.

“You don’t think Chucho would be mad?” Javi laughs then, a wide, genuine smile on his face as he does. 

“Oh no. I didn’t say that. He’ll be mad, but definitely not mad at you.” You sigh, put at ease by that statement, because Chucho was there first, and it was his home and his invitation and, in all honesty, It makes you a little sick to your stomach to think about doing something that would upset him and disrespect him so much. You blink back at Javi a few times and nod in agreement.

“Are you sure about that?” He places his hand at the side of your neck and leans forward, pressing his lips to yours once more before he’s pulling back just enough to whisper.

“Promise. I wouldn’t risk messing with the two of you - he needs you, and it seems like you need him, too. Now come on, time for bed, I think. Are you joining me in mine?”

Your body lets out an involuntary ‘squeak’ at his words, and as you watch him turn and walk down the hall. He pauses in the entryway, turning to look at you with his head cocked to the ide.

“You don’t have to, darlin’. Guest room is just down the hall - last room on the right. Mine’s just across the way. Your choice, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to.” He winks and smiles at you, melting your heart down just a little bit further, and then he turns once more, disappearing into the room you assume must be his. Chucho went the opposite direction to get to bed - you figure he must be in the master suite in a different part of the house - but it’s difficult to know you’d have to pass by Javi’s on the way to the guest bedroom anyway. 

How can you possibly say no? To that glorious hunk of a man? 

The chemistry between you two is palpable. You felt it like electricity from the moment you walked into the farmhouse this evening. It’s like the entire air around you was charged with static, somehow simultaneously pulling you in toward him and keeping you at an arm’s length away.

Fuck it. You moved here for you. You can fuck who you want to, too.

Before you have a chance to chicken out and change your mind, you walk briskly down the hall and pause in his doorway, staring in at the now topless man, sprawled across his bed as he looks up at you. 

“You still want me?” You ask.

He sits up quickly with a reply, “That I do, muñequita. Come on baby, come inside.” He sits up and pushes himself off of the bed, taking two short strides before he’s on top of you once again, pushing you off to the side and up against the wall just next to the door. One arm plants firmly against the wall next to your head, his torso within breathing distance of your own, and the other arm reaches to close the door slowly, letting the latch slowly settle into place with a ‘click’. He’s staring at you again, eyes meeting yours directly all the while. It’s so jarring to feel so seen by someone you hardly know, and yet so comforting at once.

Leaning in slowly, he brings your lips back together as he releases the doorknob and wraps his large hand against your hip and lower back, tugging your hips into his. You let out a breathy sigh from your nose as hips tongue presses back into your mouth, licking into every nook and cranny he can manage. 

There’s more passion, more pent up frustration to this kiss now that you’re in the comfort and safety of his bedroom, no longer at the whim of any possible prying eyes. Reaching up to his chest, your hands find his shoulders, pulling you more tightly into him as you reach up into his embrace. You keep your mouth open for him as you squirm, already feeling the rush of slick that is traveling to your core.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, his eyes several shades darker as he looks at you. “Fuck, Javi…” 

Half of his face turns up in a lopsided grin. “That’s the plan, muñequita,” and then he’s trailing his lips down your throat, biting lightly at your pulse point before his fingers start to work their way under the hem of your shirt. “I’d really like to get this gone though, that alright with you?”

The way he checks in with you before he just goes ahead and does it sends a shiver of appreciation down your spine. You don’t think you’ve ever been treated that well by a partner before, never been asked or confirmed with before doing. You arch up into his touch and shake your head frantically up and down, not wanting him to waste another second than he has to. “Please, Javi.”

The smirk on his face turns wicked as his hands meet at your shirt hem and tug it overhead. One wraps around your hips and the other around your back, unclasping your bra with a skilled precision that rivals your own ability to undress yourself in a rush. The bra slips forward off your shoulders so you let it pool to the ground, and then, in what feels like the blink of an eye, he’s managed to lose both your pants and his, and pour you both into the extraordinarily well-cushioned bed.

He’s on top of you, caging you in with his legs and arms, and you can feel the excessively well-hung length of him through his boxers, leaving very little left to the imagination as his cock hangs hard and heavy against your hip. It’s subconscious when you roll your hips up into his, but you groan at the friction and at the way you're able to feel him for the first time without the restrictiveness of denim in the way.

Javi nuzzles his cheek against yours for a moment, taking the time to gain back some of the intimacy that was lost in the fight to undress as quickly as possible. “Gotta get you nice n’ warmed up for me, darlin’. Alright?” You can hear the southern drawl start to come out the more worked up he gets, and it only adds to your arousal. He sits back on his heels, straddling your thighs, and shifts to spread your legs out wide on either side of his hips. He presses your thighs open and stares down at your still-clothed pussy, pausing for a long moment to just look at the very boring black underwear you just happened to have on today. 

He moves his hands to trail up and down the sides of your torso. He traces your ribs, your abdomen, the outsides of your breasts, until he settles with his hands just barely cupping the fleshy mounds of your tits. He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to the skin between them, and then up to your sternum, where he lingers, lavishing his tongue along your skin as he works across to one collarbone, and then the other. Your eyes close gently as you press your chest up into him, seeking out the contact hastily as his hand drops to the hemline of your panties, fingertips just teasing beneath it. 

“Oh fuck. Javi, I… can you- can you please touch me?” Your wanton need is so visible now, so palpable, that you can’t help but resort to begging. You need to feel him against you, inside of you. You’re dying for it. 

“Greedy little thing, are you? Hm… I suppose I can fulfill that request.” He smirks down at you, having abandoned your breasts for a moment while he moves his hands to your clothed core. Reaching for the band of them then, he pulls your legs together, up and off of his hips just enough to slide them off of you, and then tosses them to the side as he settles your legs right back down around his thighs. His fingers ghost along every curve he can find - your thighs, your mound, the outside of your folds, your lower belly. It’s a searing touch, one you’re grateful for as it short circuits your brain and makes you feel like a comfortable liquid, all for him. 

“Trying to take my time with you, muñeca, but you’re making it damn difficult.” Your breath stutters and you whimper a bit, reaching up for his neck to pull him down into a heavy kiss. 

You whisper back, “Then don’t take your time, Javi. Just fuck me.”

He chuckles a bit at that and acquiesces to the kiss, lips and tongues tangling with one another as your hands work their way into his hair. You tug - you can’t help it - and he moans at the feeling as you finally manage to suck that perfect bottom lip into your mouth, biting down gently. 

Javi groans in response, low and deep from his chest, and it’s like the reward you didn’t know you needed. Something snaps a bit in you as your ministrations speed up - kissing him faster, harder, and letting your hands wander down to the swell of his ass. You squeeze there, tucking your hands into the band of his boxer, and pull his hips closer to yours as you do so. 

“No patience, baby. I told you - need to get you warmed up for me.” His head dips low as he takes up a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently on the sensitive bud. You keen, pressing your chest up into him once again as his other hand leaves your mound and moves to pinch lightly at your other nipple, leaving neither without the perfect stimulation. 

He switches then, mouth moving to the other side, and you let your eyes close gently while he works you over. Javi stays there for a long while, moving back and forth between your breasts, until you’re absolutely squirming beneath him, begging for some touch in the place you need it most. 

“Please, Javi, I want your fingers. Need them.” He pulls off your nipple with a ‘pop’ and quirks a brow at you as he leans in for another quick kiss. 

“Need them, huh? Well… I always tend to my partners’ needs, so I suppose I must.” He chuckles lightly and presses his lips to your forehead, then cheek, then throat, sitting back into his heels again as he spreads your thighs open wide once more. This time, when he’s staring down at your core, there’s no cloth in the way of him taking everything in. His gaze is once again searing - it feels like he might burn a new hole right through your body if he isn’t careful enough - but the look he offers you in return is nothing short of famished. He’s craving you just as much as you’re craving him, needs you like a man starved.

He moves his thumbs to your folds, pulling them apart so that he can stare inside even better. Letting a line of spit fall out of his mouth, it lands directly on your clit, and you realize that you’ve never felt so simultaneously dirty and hot at the same time. His thumbs massage the outsides of your folds for a few moments more before he’s collecting the spit with one of them and using it to rub small, gentle circles just beneath your clit. Then he’s dipping the tip of his thumb into your entrance and your back is arching for him, silently begging for more. 

“She’s so greedy. Pretty, too.” Somehow him talking about your cunt like it’s its own person has you reeling even further. It makes your head spin at the lewdness of it all. “She’s dyin’ for my fingers, I think. Gonna let her have ‘em.” He smiles up at you then as he presses his index finger into you, slowly sinking from one knuckle to the next until it’s buried deep and he’s crooking it upward in just the perfect way that somehow has you already seeing stars. 

You grind your hips down onto his sole finger, already needing more, but he knows your body well enough already and as soon as the thought can take any legitimate root in your brain, he’s pressing another in just next to the first. 

“Ohhh, Javi-” Your eyes close once again, riding out the waves of pleasure onto his fingers while he scissors them inside of you, alternating between stretching you out and crooking them up perfectly into your g-spot. You plant your heels onto the bed on either side of him, letting your knees open wide to the sides to give him whatever access he wants. 

You want to give him all of it. 

“That’s a good girl. Look how wrecked you are for me, already. Mierda. I can’t wait to give you my cock, muñeca.” His free hand smooths along the inside of your thighs for a long while until he’s gripping tightly to one of your knees and pulling his fingers out of you, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. “Just keep your ass up for me, just like this.”

You do as instructed, settling your weight back into your knees as you suddenly feel something hot and wet at your entrance. It’s his tongue, you realize, swirling around and gathering up what feels like a copious amount of slick that he’s pulled out of you already. He laps at you sloppily, licking broad stripes from above your clit to your opening each time. He presses a kiss to it then, humming with pleasure, and then his tongue is replaced by three fingers this time, moving slowly and carefully into your core. 

“Had to fuckin taste you. Such a perfect little pussy, couldn’t go another second without it.” You groan deeply into the mattress, face pressed to the side as he continues to work his fingers down to the knuckle. He curls them too, using the added finger to press into that spongy spot inside of you while scissoring the others and it has you seeing stars already, perfectly working you up toward a building orgasm that you had no idea was lingering so close in the horizon. 

“Oh, oh shit… Javi. I’m not-I’m- fuck I’m gonna cum!” You bury your face into the mattress as you moan, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible, and you roll your hips roughly. He chuckles and leans down, pressing kisses and little nips to the globe of your ass while he works his fingers into you so perfectly. 

“Good, muñequita. Be a good little doll and cum for me.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and so you do just that. It’s an instantaneous one, not the kind that feels like a slow roll to the finish line, but one that explodes out of seemingly nowhere, making your fingers and toes curl as he works you through it. You cry out, burying your face in the sheets in hopes of muffling the sound, and grind your hips back onto him, driving his fingers in even deeper. He takes you across the finish line and further still, slowing his ministrations, but never completely stopping until you’re a whining, needy mess beneath him.

He stands, walking over to the nightstand to fish out a condom and roll it carefully into his length. “I think you’re ready to take me now, muñeca.” He drags you sideways across the bed to meet him where he is now, and in barely a moment you can feel himself notching himself between your folds, drawing the tip of his angry cock up and down through the copious wetness there that will ease his path inside of you.

“Please, Javi, please.” You press your ass backward into him, hoping to punctuate your point with your own body, and you can hear him groan as you do so, one hand grips your hip tightly as the other aims his cock, the head just breaching past your opening. You curse under your breath - he’s a big boy - and he shifts to grip your opposite hip with his other hand, using them as leverage to pull you back slowly onto his cock, inch by inch until your ass is flush with his hip bones. 

He has you impaled on him now, just waiting right there, buried deep inside you for a long while as he heaves out a sigh and rolls his hips experimentally into you. You keen, lolling your head forward he hits places inside of you that have rarely been touched.

But then, he starts moving, and it’s like getting transported to a different dimension. Every thrust erupts a flurry of sparks in your vision, sends a shiver or a crackle of static all the way up your spine. And the sounds he makes - the fucking sounds, Javier - send you reeling. He’s driving into you with a reckless abandon, pulling whines and moans out of you that you do your best to fight down, but you can’t manage completely.

He notices - of course he does - and reaches forward, scooping up your upper body so your’e upright on your knees with his arm tightly around your waist, huge hand holding just beneath your breast. His other hand wraps around your mouth, tugging your head back to his chest as he continues to pump himself up into you. 

Well, fuck. You’re fucking close again. 

How? How does he have this kind of instant effect on you like this? You’re amazed, but you don’t have the brainpower to sit and think about it right now, anyway. Your mind and body are both too full of Javi and Javi only to be able to think about anything else.

“Shhh, muñequita. Quiet, now. You can do it.” His whispered words are hot in your ear, sandwiched between heady moans that set your belly alight with the arousal of it all. The arm around your waist dips lower, then, his large hand reaching for your clit as he starts to rub harsh circles into it. The brief moment of lucid clarity in your mind makes you think you can sense a shift to his thrusts, like a bit of a hitch or a stutter, and realize he’s probably getting close, too. You’d beg him to cum for you if you could, but his hand is so tight around your mouth he wouldn’t hear you even if you tried. 

Instead, you reach one hand behind you and around him, gripping tightly to his hip as if to ask him for harder, more, deeper, something, and the other reaches down to feel for the place where the two of you are most intimately connected, feel the shaft and slick and pull of where he’s spearing himself into you so deliciously.

He grunts a few times, head dropping to your shoulder for a brief moment as his hips stutter, and he admits, “You’re gonna make me come, baby. Fuck. Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ perfect like that, I can’t last.” You whine in response, wish you could tell him you don’t need him to last, just need him to keep fucking you, just like this, for a few more moments, and few more seconds, and then-

Then, suddenly, you’re crashing again, tumbling over the edge and into a pool of all things Javier Peña that you’re not entirely sure you’ll ever be able to pull yourself back out of again. You don’t particularly know if you even want to right now, content to let yourself meld into his body as your orgasm takes you over, body shaking and writhing with the sensations of it all. You can feel your walls squeezing him tightly, massaging him as they ripple around his thick, heavy cock, and then he grunts a few more times and he’s spilling over, too.

You pant together, breaths heaving against one another as you both still and start to settle, catching your breath. Javi releases your mouth, moves his hand from your clit, and eases you back down to the bed as he reaches down to hold the condom in place, pulling out carefully and gently rolling you over onto your back. He smiles down at you for a moment with a blissed out expression that you think might rival your own, before he bends over, kissing you softly on the lips and then the forehead as he finally speaks up.

“One moment, baby. Be right back.” 

He leaves the room briefly, you figure likely to go to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back in he has a warm washcloth which he uses to wipe you down completely, and then himself, before tossing it at the hamper in the corner of the room. Climbing back into the bed, he wraps his arms around you, tugging you into his chest to be the little spoon, and then reaches down to the foot of the bed where the sheets are all bunched up. He pulls them over the two of you and settles back down behind you, lips meeting your upper arm, then shoulder, collar bone, and neck as he peppers kisses all along your exposed, sweaty skin.

“I feel like I don’t even need to ask, muñequita, but I’m going to anyway. Was that as good for you as it was for me?” You chuckle, turning over slightly, just enough so you can look at him with a big, stupid grin on your face.

“Oh, yes, Javi. That was fantastic. Stupidly, perfectly, amazingly, phenomenal. Maybe it was even better for me,” you tease him, but think it might actually be true. He smiles back at you and leans in to press another soft, tender kiss on your lips. You kiss him back just as sweetly, one hand lifting to rest gently on the arm he has wrapped around the front of your body. “I don’t usually… I don’t usually do that. Well, this… with random people? It’s, um… definitely not the norm for me.” 

He chuffs in response and rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to prove anything to me, muñeca. And, if it makes you feel any better, it’s really not so random. There’s a lot of backstory there.” You nod, admitting to yourself that he’s correct. You just never expected to be here when you met Chucho all those weeks ago. This was not the outcome you were hoping for - though you also have to admit, you can’t bring yourself to complain about it, either. You’re lost in your thoughts when he interrupts you with another kiss. “Get some sleep. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we can talk about… this. Okay?”

You smile, pretty happy with that answer. There was a part of you that assumed Javi wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterward, but you’re glad that the connection the two of you seemed to have from the moment you laid eyes on each other wasn’t just a one-way street. He must have felt it too.

“Yeah, okay.” He smiles and nuzzles his forehead against your cheek, urging you back down onto the pillow.

“Good. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

The sound of his steady breathing and the beating of his heart ease you back into your exhaustion, which you had promptly forgotten about during the fucking. No complaints there, though.

“Mmhmm,” you mumble out, and before you know it, you’re asleep in his arms.

~~~

Read part II HERE

A/N: If you don't mind, please drop a like, comment, or reblog! They keep me going and I love your feedback! I'll be posting a next part very soon - it's almost finished!

[eldritchtickles]

Widogast’s Wavering Feathers

Right so here is the fic for @chockfullofsecrets that they requested i think like 7 months ago?? At least I know that’s when I started the fic cause holy shit do I write slow as hell. Tho it turned out really well in my opinion and I’m pretty happy with it lmao. Also thanks to @meltedhoneythighs for the onslaught of CR tickle ideas! Ok enough talking enjoy...

Wordcount: 2141

SFW but if tickles aint your thing idk enjoy still I guess lmao

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

The Xhorhaus was quiet tonight. It  hadn’t been long since its owners had slept here, between whatever intrepid adventures they had all been on. The windows were open, their curtains billowing softly to show the moonlit city of Rosohna outside, its dark streets uninhabited. It took time to become acquainted with the eternal twilight of the Drow city, but it’s sights were nonetheless striking.

Though this peaceful sight is broken by the sudden appearance of a cat, jumping to the windowsill. A Bengal cat, who slowly lowered itself to the room that his owner was currently sitting in.

Frumpkin purred as he brushed up against the coat of Caleb, who gave his familiar a soft smile and scratched his head, earning a happy purr. Before the wizard lay an open book of incantations, his other hand and sleepy eyes gently tracing the arcane words and sigils with soft fingers.

“You are a good cat aren’t you, huh?”, he asked softly, keeping his voice down. He pulled the cat into his lap to continue petting. “Did you see any of our friends out and about?”

Though Caleb couldn’t understand his fae pet in words so much, their magical bond gave him the gist of the message. The rest were fast asleep, which worked perfectly for Caleb’s late night magic experiments. It was nights like these when he developed new spells, such as Widogast’s Vault of Amber. The night air, Frumpkin as his sole companion, no distractions from the usual antics of the Mighty Nein… It was a quiet moment to practice and perfect, a time Caleb cherished when it came about. Though tonight wasn’t as much a practice session, and more… A personal project.

“I think I might just have it, my fluffy friend.”, the redhead said with a slight excited grin that only appeared on his face when he talked about magic. “But first let’s make sure we won’t be disturbed, ja?”

Going toward the door, Caleb shrugged off his jacket and scarf before looking out into the hallway. All doors were closed, just the creaks of beds as his companions shifted in their sleep. From his component pouch, he pulled a thin silver wire and drew it across the hall either side of the door. It shimmered and seemed to leave a trail of silvery light as Caleb cast Alarm, so that any night time wanderers would be caught before they could intrude on him. Once he was sure he wouldn’t be disturbed, Caleb shut the door and skipped the pages of the tome to the spell he had been working on…

“Ja, that should work..”, he muttered. Four globules of light fwoomped from his outstretched palm. Showing the diagrams Caleb was looking at. Those brown eyes widened, lights reflected in them, as a blush rose to his cheeks. His fingers traced the list of components; strip of cloth, line of string… Feathers.

In their last few weeks of travel, Caleb had noticed the others being a bit more physical. Friendly punches were thrown, Jester and Caduceus gave hugs now and then, but one thing Caleb had noticed more than anything. The wiggling fingers, playful grins, the bubbling laughter… They had started some tickle fights. And it looked really fun, though the reclusive wizard would never say so. Caleb remembered the sensation, remembered enjoying it from his parents and Astrid… yet he hadn’t experienced the sensation since escaping from the Volstrucker agents. No, since joining the Volstrucker if he was being honest to himself.

Caleb would never join in with the others of the Nein, instead burying his head in a book. He would love to, but it wasn’t as if he was that close to any of them to ask for it. Veth would understand, she always did. Jester, he was sure, would be more than happy to oblige. But the embarrassment of asking, of being that open? That was what stopped him.

So here Caleb was, readying himself to try create this sensation through arcane means. He let out a small sigh, before putting his hands before him like a conductor would. He picked up the cloth, tied the sting around one end. Then he uttered the arcane words, stroked the feather across the cloth, and then…

Frumpkin let out a cry, before scurrying off Caleb’s lap. The scruffy wizard turned to see his cat on top of the bed, looking apprehensively at something behind his master.

“Frumpkin? Is something the matter?”, he asked, cocking his head. “Did you hear someTHIHING!!”

A sudden half chuckle, half squeak escaped Caleb’s lips, hand going down to brush at his hip where he had felt a sort of tingle. Looking down he saw the cause. A feather, ghostly and ethereal, floating in the air! It wiggled up at Caleb, almost like a greeting. Caleb couldn’t help but laugh again. More out of excitement this time, looking to Frumpkin with that rare ‘magic-is-so-exciting’ smiles.

“We did it!! I knew we could-“

Before he could finish, the feather flew in front of his face. It shook side to side, almost like it was shaking his head. Caleb couldn’t help but smile slightly, it was a cute little thing.

“You really are an animated little one, aren’t you?”, he chuckled. Then the feather started pointing, behind him. Caleb turned his head, before the smile dropped.

Floating there were another four feathers. The first joined them again. Shit, it was only supposed to make one! He had missed something. But that didn’t matter, as all five feathers pointed at him and started wriggling towards him.

“Oh.”, Caleb said, a goofy nervous grin finding its way to his face as he scooted back. “Sheisse.”

All at once the feathers converged on the man who had created them, as the ginger headed magician let out a sharp gasp of surprise. One of these ghostly feathers flew underneath the book holsters pressed against his side, earning a loud but gentle squeak. This reminded Caleb of another part of this spell; it was designed to be felt on bare skin, no matter what was worn. What was the point if some armour blocked their ticklish touch? Already, he regretted this decision.

“N-Nein!! Stohoho- Ah!! Out of thehehere!!”, he giggled out, trying to bat that feather away from his ribs as it nuzzled ticklishly into his poor ribs. This left his other side open, which he soon figured out as one of the feather’s siblings sawed directly under his arm with the stiff, soft bristles of its magical form. “AAAhahaha!! Y-You lihihittle shit!!”

The tickles now began to overwhelm, Caleb feeling this sensation as a fresh one considering his lack of ticklish touch over the years. He fell on to his back as the twin offenders flicked and rubbed along ribs and armpits, prompting bubbly giggles from the usually stoic magic user. These soft giggles were interrupted then by a loud yelp, as another feather joined the fray. He felt as it stroked along his sole, causing a violent kick of his leg. His yelp calmed back to a flurry of giggles as the feather flew up to his face, tapping his nose as if to say ‘stay still’. Then it flew back to his foot, its slow, methodical strokes earning a loud whine from Caleb that dissolved into giggles once more. It wasn’t long after that the fourth joined the fray, sawing beneath his toes which added squeaks to his already excited laughter.

Then, finally, his initial feathery friend returned to his view. It was longer than the rest and glowed brighter, seeming to be the ringleader of the group. It fluttered under his nose, earning a snort and a waving hand, nodding as if happy it had earned his attention. Then it placed itself on his chest, before sloooooowly tracing down his abdomen, approaching a certain spot.

“WAIT!! No, pleheheheeeeaaaase!! Not thehehere, just-”

Both wizard and feathers stopped their antics suddenly, frozen it seemed in place, as another magical source poked into the fray.

Ping.

“Oh no.”

“Caleb…? Caleb what the fuck are you doing…?”, came a groggy voice from beyond the door. The perpetrator who had broken the Alarm spell. The one person who Caleb knew would never let him live this down.

“Beauregard!”, he shouted, trying to stand before a flurry of feathery movements at his feet kept him lying down, a hand clamping over his mouth. These damned feathers… “I-I’m sorry to have woken you. Please, go back to bed, I’ll be doing so myself soon.”

A groan from behind the door.

“Caleb it’s the middle of the fucking night- …. I think, it’s hard to tell here… But you gotta get some sleep.”, the monk said with a yawn and a stretch, beginning to open the door. Empire Siblings, no knocking from either of them.

“Wait, Beau, don’t-”

But it was too late. The door swung open, and Beau stood frozen for a moment. There was Caleb, propped up on his elbows, face flushed a deep red with hair in a messy bun, askew in his eyes. Surrounding him, the ethereal feathers waved cheerfully to the newcomer.

Beau immediately lost it.

“You-”, she started, overcome with laughter at the sight again. “You were tickling yourself?!”

“L-Look, I know it must seem- NAHAHAAAA!!”

It seemed the feathers had become tired waiting around, as the ringleader hit its mark. Swirling around his navel, before drilling directly into it with its feathered fronds. Caleb was immediately lost in laughter as his death spot was attacked. Only a few seconds later, its brethren joined the fray and resumed their attack on previous spots.

“BEAUREGAHAHAHAHARD!!”, the wizard yelled, trying his absolute best to curl up and bat away his assailants. “HEHEHEHELP MEHEHEHE!!”

“Oh”, Beau began, a grin forming on her face as she approached the giggly man before her. “I’ll help alright! After all, you wanted this right Caleb~?”

Before Caleb’s eyes could fully widen at the realisation, Beau had already grabbed his arms and, after a quick strength contest, pinned his arms above his head and began to scribble her short nails underneath them. The new sort of sensation shot through Caleb like an arc of lightning, his back arching as his laughter reached a higher pitch, a loud snort ripping through the room. The displaced feathers moved down, both attacking exposed hipbones as his shirt had started to ride up to show his soft stomach with his new stretched out position.

“Daaaaaamn Caleb, you are crazy ticklish huh?”, she tittered, digging into the soft spot just underneath his armpits to earn a squeal. “You must reeeeaaaaally like it if you designed a spell too~! How long you been at this huh? Must have been a real long time… Could’ve worked on a more useful spell if you had just asked one of us to do this you know~.”

Caleb’s mind began to melt with the teasing words of Beau’s gravelly ‘I-just-woke-up’ voice, each word spiking his sensitivity through the roof. The contrast of sensations between languid feathery strokes, quick soft twirling, and digging, scratching nails had the poor man addled, his thoughts going mushy with the onslaught of this sensation he had craved for weeks now.

It was torture. And he was embarrassed to admit, he loved it.

A few minutes of laughter, begging, teasing and tickles later, the ethereal feathers all gave one last flourish before a quick flash of light indicated the end of the spell. Beau grinned down at her friend, blushy with his hair matted to his face, chest heaving for breath, and decided maybe now may be a chance to call it quits.

“Well its only my first time being a spell apprentice, but I think I’m a natural!”, she said, letting go of Caleb’s arms and helping him up to sit with his back against the bed, where she soon joined him with a signature cheeky smirk of hers. “You agree~?”

Caleb couldn’t keep the grin off his face. He let out a breathless laugh, patting her thigh with his hand.

“I think I may just have to agree for once, Beauregard…”, he muttered, eyes closed and content. “Though I suppose the whole house is awoken by now…?”

“Oh, for sure, I mean I saw Fjord pass by the room to get some of those earplugs Caducueus made, I think everyone knows, dude.”

“Well…”, Caleb said, beginning to sit up and look through his scattered spellbook. His hand traced arcane shapes in the air, and he cast a stray eye to Beau with a smirk. “If that’s the case, another test is in order. Ready apprentice Beauregard?”

“I think you’re a bit tired for-”

Then Beau felt the feathery trace along her neck, earning a soft giggle before she suddenly snapped her head towards Caleb.

“Caleb, Caleb no, Caleb you motherfuckehehEHEHEHER!!!!”

[agendratum]

hey @tootiredtoosadtooangry i tried to answer your 6 weeks old ask, but as i saved it as a draft to check the formatting and all that, it just fucking disappeared, cause tumblr is a website. it may magically come back later, but idk if it will happen. good thing is that i saved the text of that ask separately, cause i’m a genius and i wasn’t gonna lose this essay *wink wink* to this fucking website

ok, so it's been 6 weeks

it's basically 5-7 business days, right?

so 6 weeks ago i made a gif, and under that gif i said that i might write an essay about some things (wei wuxian), but then some other things happened (word of honor) and i kinda got distracted. but now i have my glass of whatever this alcohol that i'm drinking is, and i think i'm ready to talk a bit about our depressed necromancer who in that gif just came back to life. mostly about:

1. the specific flashback he's having in that moment, the one about seeing lan wangji for the first time

2. the general concept of being back to life 16 years later and getting using to that new world around him

so, first of all, what i find really interesting, is that upon seeing sizhui's clothing pattern, wei wuxian remembers, of course, lan wangji. but the thing is, being just back to life, his last memory from being alive is him falling down the cliff with lan wangji's face fading while the distance grows. that is not what he remembers. his memory goes back to the very first moment they met, the moment before literally anything happened, including all the things that went wrong.

because think about it. even tho i'm going here by the live-action canon, if we go back just a little bit to the novel canon, wei wuxian doesn't actually remember lan wangji fighting by his side in that final battle. when he comes back to life, he believes that he's remembered as the terrible yiling laozu by everybody. and that includes lan wangji. by the end of wei wuxian life he became everything that lan wangji warned him about, and everything he said he wouldn't become. so he believes that if lan wangji would find out that he's back to life, it wouldn't make him happy (oh how wrong he is)

when wei wuxian sees lan sect juniors for the first time, there seems to be a bit of hope - "is *he* also here?" but later we find out, that he doesn't actually want lwj to be here, cause he thinks that their meeting will not look like a friendly reunion (it will look like a very romantic reunion, but that happens later). and i think that when he has that small flashback to their very first meetings, the sadness that overcomes him is caused by the realization of that enormous gap between them when they just met and them after all the terrible things that happened. wei wuxian wants to see his old friend, a person who once at least tried to believe in him, who is also still alive, which can't be said about a lot of people he knew, but there is this huge barrier that he believes cannot be crossed. and he crossed that point of no return himself in his previous life, and he is now undeserving of lan wangji's trust and friendship.

and that's of course isn't true. but there is a difference between what we know, what lan wangji thinks and what wei wuxian believes and remembers.

there is no smooth transition i can think of to get to the second point, so here we are. 16 years. 16 years is a lot. it's a whole fucking life. a human can be almost fully formed in that time period (which is perfectly represented by both fully grown up sizhui and jin ling, who, when wwx died, was a one month old baby) in 16 years a lot can happen to a person. a person can grow to change their whole world view, their believe system, some of their principles, become comfortable with their identity and finally figure out what they want from life. a person can grow from a child to an adult, who's carefully and patiently initiating a plan they've been cultivating for years, while playing a role and hiding their true face from everybody. a person can take their enormous grief, their rage, their pain and direct it all towards achieving their goals, actually fulfilling the impossible, while managing to raise a child and not completely ruin them from the inside, but actually letting the child know that he's loved and safe.

and then wei wuxian who died 16 years ago before any of that happened, comes back to this world full of people he used to once know. but he doesn't anymore. and we can see it in everything, from little details to big very important conversations. the most obvious is him trying to play and flirt with lan wangji the ways he used to when they were teens, and being so confused by lwj's reaction. because lwj grew past that so long ago, while wwx just didn't have a chance to get this out of his system. that part is him getting to know lwj again, from the beginning, because he meets a new man. but at least with lwj, wwx is willing to get to know him and lwj is willing to let him do that.

then there is jiang cheng. there was always a certain level of misunderstanding between yunmeng bros, but at the same time, wei wuxian used to know jiang cheng pretty well. when jiang cheng was upset or something was going wrong home, with his parents, wwx mostly knew what to do or what to say or how to distract him and make light of the situation. he used to be able to look jiang cheng in the eyes and lie, and jiang cheng would believe that. and when wei wuxian comes back, he thinks it's the same jiang cheng. but the thing is, it's not. jiang cheng grew in not the most healthy ways, but he still grew up. there are so many moments, where instead of making the light of the situation, wei wuxian's actions escalate it. it's both jc just being a new person and wwx not knowing anymore how to act around him. the most important scenes showcasing that are lotus pier fight and the conversation in the temple.

there is also nhs, who's fooling everybody around him easily because he always did. even if it was just about school work. but isn't it fucking sad, that he's fooling even he's best friend. wwx isn't really surprised in the end, of course, when we find out that nhs has been behind all these deeds, but still he doesn't really suspect him. like at all, if i recall correctly? and they used to be on the same page of fooling everybody to think that these two boys are just some lazy fools. they're clearly not on the same page anymore.

wwx comes back to the world full of people who look like people he used to know or remind him of people he used to know, but they aren't them. meanwhile he didn't have the time to grow or change or just have some peace. wherever he's been while being dead, he was just out of it. his path of growing and figuring himself out stars with him coming back. but he's years behind. and with someone like lan wangji, we know that he's willing wait and he gives him space and he gives him love and home and warmth. but then, for example, jiang cheng's frustration is visible in the air, because he had years to overthink everything went wrong again and again, and wei wuxian comes back and it seems like he just want to ignore and leave "the past in the past" and it's infuriating for someone who couldn't let go of it all for 16 years. but it's understandable for someone who just came back and now the weight of everything they did multiplied by 16 years is suddenly being thrown at them.

and he has to get to know all these people from the beggining, if they will be willing to get to know each other at all. and the growth, that getting to know himself, it's a journey he has to take on his own. that's why i'm such a big fan of that trip he takes in the end by the way. but still it's a trip he takes alone, and there are still huge chunks of life he missed. and he will never get them back. he missed all those years when sizhui and jin ling were growing up. and it will always be there. they will be sharing their childhood stories with him, and the lack of wwx in their lives will be so obvious. he will continue to learn new things about lwj, about his old friends, about the world, because it's been so long, and it will be noticeable that he was not there.

i would say that all the characters of their generation (that survived) are lonely in their own way. but for wei wuxian it's the loneliness of being dead and just completely not present on the lives of his loved ones.

i don't know where i'm going with it now, so i think i will just stop here and maybe come back to you 6 weeks later with another terribly messy emotional take influenced by me drinking alcohol.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

one | hard to forget | hangman.

↱ authors notes: ↲

Ahhh okay. Here we go. This is going to pick up where Darlin left off, give or take a few days so... if you haven’t read that, you might want to stop everything and go click on the link above and do that. I’m a little excited right now, because I purposely ended that one-shot on a cliffhanger. Because I wanted to try this so... Here’s to hoping it doesn’t flop.

↱ pairing ↲

adam hangman page x ofc! rosalie.

↱ summary↲

Adam and Rosalie shared a night together. A night that neither one of them can forget and yet, neither one of them seem to be able to talk to the other about. Between their own personal issues, backstage gossip and other awkwardness, will they eventually find their way together?

↱ warnings↲

I switch back and forth between first and third person (first=rosalie and third=hangman) and I realize that can be jarring for some, so I thought I’d warn you about that now... Now on to the actual warnings you need to be aware of...slow burn. angst. two stubborn fucking people both going through their own issues. alcohol mentions. probably smut at some point, idk. for now, that’s all I got.

↱ tag squad↲

If you want to be tagged in my writing, go add your @ to this doc here. If you’re not on there / haven’t told me you want to be tagged, you’re not getting tagged.

@kyleoreillysknee​

@rampagewriting​

@writertoo18​

@thatnerdwriter​

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​

@chasingeverybreakingwave​

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif​

@sassymox​

@unabashedwrestlefics​ 

@wardl0w​ 

@wrestlingthot​ 

↱ other stuff ↲

[ tag list doc | masterlist | soundtrack to this fic | about page ]

                                                ONE 

[ ROSALIE]

I could feel Adam’s eyes on me, but like I’ve been tending to do lately, I trained my eyes intently on my Instagram app. I was only half listening to what Swole was saying at this point and I think she knew it, because she cleared her throat to get my attention as she nodded in Hangman’s direction.

“What?”

“Did you talk to him?” she gave me an expectant look as she licked the pudding off her spoon and I dropped my head, sighing quietly. “What do you think?”

“I think that if you don’t at least say something, you’re never gonna know.”

“And maybe that’s the way it should be, Swole.” I shook my head as I picked up the bottle of water sitting to my left and sat my cell phone down.

Sonny Kiss flopped down into the chair next to mine and took one look at me before bursting into laughter and shooting Swole a look. “She still hasn’t said anything.”

“Did you really think she would?” Swole scoffed at Sonny, shooting me a playful dirty look. “That man is over there suffering right now, girl.”

“It’s got nothing to do with me though. Besides, look at me!” I shook my head, picking at my salad as I lowered my voice and finished, “I’m a goddamn mess.”

“I swear to God, if one of them doesn’t bring up what happened soon, I’m taking matters into my own hands and shoving them in a closet together.” Thunder Rosa spoke up from her spot at the table. 

All I could do was open and close my mouth, trying to stammer out something in my defense. There wasn’t anything, no excuse I could offer to justify not attempting to find out what the other night meant to Adam, if it even meant anything at all. I just simply couldn’t bring myself to do it.

To hear it one more time. And this time from someone who’d managed to get deep under my skin. Who now lived in my head -and my heart, totally rent free.

I knew I’d never be able to handle hearing the whole “it’s not you, it’s me” shtick again. And I knew that Adam Page was a far better man than I could ever hope to even come close enough to being worthy of.

“So you’re a mess. I mean… He’s been a train wreck too, as of late.”

I gave Thunder Rosa an evil look almost as soon as she said it, but I found my gaze drifting off her and settling on him. Sitting alone in the corner of catering. It took everything in my power not to get up and go over to him like I wanted. But somehow, I managed to keep from doing it. 

“I know! And that’s probably the only reason he stooped to hook up with me! Guys, look. I love all of you but the facts are the facts...Sometimes, things just happen. Me hooking up with Adam last week? He was in a bad place. We know he never would’ve done it otherwise. Kinda sucks because we all know how I felt about it happening. I love the guy. And I just…” I trailed off because I’d been about to remind myself for the millionth time that it was ridiculous, we barely spoke. And he probably didn’t know my actual name, hence the reason he referred to me as darling the entire time. It wasn’t a term of endearment, but more likely, a way for him to distance himself from what was happening. A placeholder name because given how fast we got to that stage, it wouldn’t exactly have been anything short of awkward as hell for him to stop and ask my damn name.

I was determined. It was drilled into my brain. That night probably didn’t mean anything to him. He was lonely, hurting and I was a comforting warm body. We’re both consenting adults, sometimes things happen that way. God, did I not want it to be true. But, I was trying to really hammer it in my brain that more than likely, it was true.

“I mean I beg to differ, but go on, Rosalie. Show your whole stubborn ass, girl.” Sonny insisted, giving a snort and shaking their head at me. Thunder Rosa glanced from me to someone just behind me and as she grumbled and continued to stare behind me, my stomach churned.

“Well, if you didn’t want word getting out, that’s probably not gonna be a possibility anymore. Especially the part about you being in love...”

I felt my stomach starting to churn and I dropped my head to the tabletop, lightly banging it against. “Seriously? Who heard it?”

“Oh, only Matt fucking Jackson.” Swole rolled her eyes as she told me who’d been eavesdropping.

“Well that’s just fucking splendid.” I grumbled quietly, biting my lip as I watched Matt walking across catering towards his brother Nick. He winked at me before whispering something into Nick’s ear and if I thought my stomach was churning before, whew.. It was really churning now.

“Welp, that settles it. Time to look into selling a kidney. To buy a private island.” I tried to make a joke out of the situation, standing abruptly and gathering up my wrappers and the empty water bottle. Bracing myself to walk right past Matt and Nick’s table on my way to the bin.

And then Adam’s table on my way out of catering.

I’d just thrown away my trash and turned around, finding myself body to body with Matt.

“What?” I eyed him, trying my best to play casual. Pretend like I wasn’t fully aware he’d overheard my dirty little secrets. He eyed me up and down, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“Just find it interestin’ is all.”

“What?” I rolled my eyes, attempting to make a step to the side and get the hell away from him. 

“You and Hangman.”

“What about it? Look, if you’re about to be sleazy, just know that Adam and I were a one time thing. And I do not intend to repeat what happened with anyone else. Especially not you.” I took a deep breath as I finished speaking, my body tense and prepared for battle. I know how men like Matt are when their ego gets a little wounded.

He pouted a little, leaning in closer. “Oh? But you were just sayin you loved the guy. I was just thinkin… If he’s not into you, darlin.. Maybe you could give me a shot?”

“What I said is precisely why I wouldn’t bother with you.. I’m not into flings, thanks bye.” I snapped at him as I gaped up at him in disbelief. I shoved past Matt with my ears burning, not daring to look anyone else in the eye on my way out. 

“You know you’re curious, sweetheart.” Matt taunted after me. I didn’t even bother dignifying the remark with a comeback because honestly, I was just still seething from the audacity of the guy to even say it to me.

Adam and I collided hard. He reached out to steady me and like an idiot, I shrank away, flinching a little because I was still unnerved by Matt’s whole attempt a few seconds before. Staring up at him a second or two, willing my brain to work. 

The second I saw his eyes darken and get stormy, I swallowed hard. 

,, welp, that confirms it. Guy can’t even look at me without being disgusted.” I thought to myself, taking a deep breath, muttering quietly, “Sorry, I.. I was in a hurry.”

“Yeah, I can see that, Rosie.”

Him actually using my name and not simply settling for Darlin’ had a little flicker of hope daring to spring to light. It was hope I quickly dashed. Nope, not likely.

Those baby blues were fixed on me and I felt my thighs clench all over again. My mouth opened and closed too. I couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t make everything so much more awkward than it was just leaving it be like I had been.

“I.. I have to go.” I pushed past him and hurried out of catering, down the hall and into the hair and makeup room. I leaned heavily against the wall, taking a few shaky breaths. There was so much I would’ve said if I hadn’t left in a hurry. Everything I felt, everything I wanted and needed, it had all been literally a breath away from spilling out. 

[ ADAM ]

,, Well, that’s that.” Adam sighed as the thought came, shaking his head sadly. He’d been trying for a little over a week now to get her to herself because someone had to mention what happened. It obviously wasn’t going to be her. 

And if the way she flinched back at me a few seconds ago is anythin’ to go by,” Adam thought to himself, “She doesn’t want me to bring it up either.” 

Just the thought ate him up. It added to everything else already happening, everything that was spinning too far out of control for him to even attempt fixing now.

He flopped back into the seat he’d been sitting in and propped his head against his hands, eyes closing tight.

There had to be some way out of all this. 

He really couldn’t stomach the possibility that he was going to lose everyone. Her, before he even really got a chance to have her like he wanted. All to himself.

,, figures, she agrees with the rest of ‘em. Well, fuck it.” the intrusive thought crept in and Adam fought to keep it out.

But lately, it was getting harder and harder to fight these pesky little intrusive thoughts. He was starting to resign himself to the fact that everything about his current situation in life was fucked 10 ways to Sunday and he was starting to realize that while his friends may have set it in motion months ago, he certainly hadn’t helped matters only.

Finishing his bottled water, he stood and made his way over to the garbage, tossing the bottle in. He didn’t particularly care to stick around. Making conversation with any of them seemed a bit of a moot point now. He didn’t even begin to know where to start, making things right with his friends.

And Rosie? Still a huge goddamn mystery to him.

He felt like they might have connected that night backstage. But then she made herself damn near invisible. And she was nothing if not good at it, too. And asking around didn’t help anything. Asking around only seemed to highlight the fact that nobody actually knew her. 

All he wanted was one chance. One shot to explain that if he didn’t already want her so badly he could feel it in his bones way down deep, that night never would’ve went down between them. That he hadn’t just been doing it as a heat of the moment thing. That she hadn’t just been a source of comfort that night.

He spotted Sonny on his way out of catering and he stopped them.

“How well you know Rosie?” Adam asked the question cautiously, eyeing Sonny intently, hoping maybe he’d get some form of answer he could work with. Anything right now would be nice. Because right now, he was officially out of ideas. ,, aside from the obvious one, goin up to her and demandin to talk. Because of course, that’s outta the damn question. I can’t handle hearin’ here politely tell me that night was a one time thing when I want it to be more than that.” Adam thought to himself as he shuffled his feet, waiting. 

Sonny eyed him, a hand on their hip as they did so. “Well enough to say that if you don’t say something first, nothing will ever be said, Page.”

With that said, Sonny turned on their heels and walked out of the area, leaving Hangman to stand there, his hand against the back of his head as he tried to figure out what his next move was.

,, If I even bother with one. That flinch ought t’ be my answer. People don’t flinch without a damn good reason. The reason was obviously me. She regrets it. I need t’ leave it alone. Let her be.” 

[ ROSALIE]

The door banged shut to hair and makeup and I caught sight of Thunder Rosa making her way in, flopping down into my hair and makeup chair again. 

“Girl, that new guy in Lights. He asked for your number again.”

“Yeah, no.. He wants a hook up. God knows I’ve made enough of a mess lately.”

“And you’d only sleep with a co-worker if you really love them. Like Adam?” Rosa teased and I grumbled at her, shrugging. “I never said that.”

“You don’t have to! You’re a shitty liar and you can’t hide anything to save your life. The only thing saving your skin is the fact that the poor guy has a ton of baggage heaped on him right now.”

“Speaking of… That interview with Tony earlier.. Is he okay right now?”

“You’d know if you’d fucking talk to the man.”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. The sting of the words he said about himself earlier came rushing back all over again.

“I feel like from head to toe, I’m full of poison.” 

No matter what I tried, I couldn’t un-hear the words. And all I’d wanted to do when I heard him say it was go to him. Show him that he wasn’t.

I kind of have the feeling that right now, he’d never believe me. And it bothers me.

And the fact that it bothers me bothers me even more.

I grumbled at myself in frustration all over again as I dug around in my kit, getting out the stuff I used to do Rosa’s lashes and the other makeup she’d need to paint the half of her face and I sighed.

Yeah, I know everyone is right. I should talk to him. But here’s the thing. I fucking can’t. I’ve literally been outside of his hotel room. A speech all prepared in my head. About to knock on the door. 

And then all I can hear is everything I’ve ever heard out of anyone else when I dare hope that maybe just once I’ll be enough.

Or all the stuff my ex liked to say to try to keep me with him. 

Once that stuff gets in your head and it fucks with you, it never entirely stops. And I know that even if I had him, my own insecurities would probably drive him running for the hills if nothing else did first.

“You know that doing this is letting Jonny win..Right? The only out is through. You need to work through all this stuff in your head that keeps insisting you’re not worth it for somebody.”

“Did you just shrink me, Rosa?”

“I call it like I see it.”

“And all I’m saying is that maybe.. Throwing myself headfirst into… this.. Is not the best idea for either of us right now. I had him, okay? For one night, I had him. If that’s all I get, that’s all I get.”

“But you could have more. You could talk to the man. You could work through whatever happened. Because I don’t think he’d just fucking sleep with you if he didn’t want you already, okay? He’s not exactly like the other jerks we work with.”

“I know.” 

God, did I know. His being completely different than other men was what drew me to him. Because he wasn’t  

He stood out among all the douche bags and dogs that seemed drawn to me like a magnet. For whatever reason, the calm I felt whenever he was around was almost overwhelming. It terrified me because I hadn’t ever felt it before.

It made it entirely too easy for me to just let go. Take the risk of opening up all over again. Something I hadn’t done in so long that now, faced with the desire to do so, I was actually terrified of doing it. 

“It’s driving you crazy, Rosie. Either you do something about it, or you let a shot pass you by. I thought you were the kind of girl who doesn’t scare easily.”

“This is different.” I emphasized my point and gave a pleading look, hopeful that maybe she’d leave the situation alone. But no, of course not. She pressed further.

“No, it’s stupid, that’s what it is.”

And yeah, I knew she was right. It was stupid. And I did want to say something. I couldn’t keep avoiding the guy. But damned if I knew how to go about bringing up what happened between us, let alone anything else I might want and need to ask him.

Besides, the way he looked at me earlier in catering hadn’t exactly inspired any confidence to do so.

“At least think about it.”

“I am. Constantly.”

“I can’t with you.”

“I can’t with myself right now, honestly. I really went all out with this one, huh?” I laughed and shook my head as I sank down into a chair and took a few deep breaths. “It doesn’t have to be this damn dramatic.”

“Exactly!”

‘But then I think I have the nerve to talk to him and I think of a million and one good reasons not to.” 

“Damn it, Rosie.”

“I just… I need time. I need to ease into this.”

The door was knocked on and Rosa and I shared a look. I stood and made my way over, throwing it open. MJF stood there, that little smirk as he eyed me up like a piece of meat. I scowled at him.

“What the hell do you want, Max? Was my not unless hell froze over not clear enough?”

“Oh.. it was clear. But here’s the thing.. I refuse to believe it.” Maxwell stepped into the room and I grumbled, flipping off his turned back after rolling my eyes skyward.

Did anybody backstage know how to keep their goddamn mouth shut?

“See. I heard something interesting about you.” Maxwell held my gaze, a calm smirk playing at his lips as he looked me up and down. I could feel my stomach churning already and honestly, it took everything inside of me NOT to just reach out and strangle Maxwell... First Matt, then him.. Because obviously, Matt’s been running his mouth about what he just heard, that has to be it... I reminded myself, taking a deep breath as I tried to calm down.

“Oh yeah?”

“I heard you actually did get mixed up with somebody back here. Contrary to what you told me.. You know, that crap about not mixing business with pleasure.”

“See, here’s the thing, Maxy boy. I never said I considered… anything… involving you… Pleasure. So… there’s that.” I pointed to the open door and he eyed me, rubbing his chin. “You’ll wind up giving in. Everybody does.” I stood taller, giving a firm glance to the door before glaring up at him and tapping my foot. All I wanted was Maxwell to get the hell away from me. I mean.. Sure that was tied with the firm desire to find Matt Jackson and punch him in the cock because somehow, he must have been running his mouth and now, naturally, my personal business was all out there for the world to know, but hey.. Getting Maxwell the entire fuck out of my sight was up high on that list.

“Pretty sure I’d rather bind my legs shut with molasses first. Are you done making an entire ass of yourself? Because I’d really like to get back to my actual job.” I rolled my eyes and again, I pointed at the door. The guy had three seconds and I was going to let my inner bad bitch out to play. Lucky for me, Maxwell seemed to finally take the hint and he made a retreat, eye-fucking me one last time on his way out the door.

Once the door was closed behind me, I leaned against it and lightly beat the back of my head against. “I swear to God, this is… Why am I the kind of person who goes without being messy until suddenly, I go ham and it’s a literal shit-storm?”

“I mean, look on the bright side. Sooner or later now one of you has to bring it up?”

“Fucking hilarious, Rosa. Fucking hilarious.” I muttered sarcastically as I poked my tongue out at her and pouted.

“If the poor guy wasn’t disgusted enough at doing what he and I did last week already, pretty sure he’s gonna fucking LOVE this going around.” I rubbed my forehead, pacing back and forth in front of the door.

“Nobody’s gonna even think about this longer than a day.”

I eyed her with a brow raised. Somehow, I doubted. 

“I’m being serious. This is not a big deal. Tomorrow something else will happen and nobody’s gonna think about it.”

“ God, I can only hope.” I mumbled quietly as I made the choice to shove it all out of my head, get to work on Rosa’s makeup for the night instead. In the back of my mind, I found myself wondering just how far spread everything had gotten by now.

Knowing Matt’s tendency to shoot off his mouth, I wouldn’t be surprised if I’m the talk of the men’s locker room. I pretty much resigned myself to the realization that if I wanted things to go smoothly between me and Adam, this getting out probably guaranteed they wouldn’t.

And in a flash, something intimate and private, between two people, became this publicly known thing. And it annoyed me, because that was never what I intended. Especially granted what Adam’s already going through with the guys.

He didn’t need this shit on top of it.

[trophywifejimgordon]

okay so, oswald’s stupid aliases meta? oswald’s stupid aliases meta. 

after returning to gotham in 1x3, oswald fairly quickly takes on a few false titles, first when confronted by a fish mooney lackey in an alley who recognizes him as the ex umbrella boy (in a panic, he tells the man that he must be confused, his name is dmitri... yeah, no), then when trying to endear himself to don maroni (trying to claim italian heritage, he calls himself paolo), and finally, in 1x4, when introducing himself to barbara (”i’m peter. peter... humboldt.”). 

so.

of these, and i’m separating the last one into two parts, i pretty much have the least to say about dmitri. while oswald has some time off screen to think about the other names, the confrontation with the mook forces him to come up with that one on the spot, so imo it’s the least likely to have heavy significance; likely he just chose it because it’s a very slavic name to fit the very slavic accent he’s not fooling anyone with. if i were really pressed about it, i might point out that dmitri is derived from demeter, the greek goddess of the harvest (among other things). demeter is responsible for the growth of the crops, but also presides over the cycle of life and death and the sacred law; one of her titles is “law-bringer,” referring to the idea that idea that law and order formed in agricultural society. the interaction oswald has here with this mook is notable in that--before he kills the guy--oswald insists that “gotham needs him! [he is] its future!” oswald aligning himself, consciously or not, with being responsible for gotham’s fertility, its health, and most of all its structure, would not be out of character for him, and is in fact directly supported by his interactions with the man to whom he gives the fake name. 

but that’s all pretty tenuous. 

next up, paolo! this one, i had fun with. see, i had a somewhat classical education. i read the inferno. that being so, my immediate connection with the name paolo (and, indeed, the only major literary connection i could find) was to the story of paolo malatesta and francesca da rimini. they’re condemned to the second circle of hell for their lust, yadda yadda, whatever. i’m mostly just concerned with the man himself; one source (from the owlcation page on paolo and francesca) describes him as “a romantic sort, a man not really interested in the world around him.” (emphasis mine.) which is fun, because guess what oswald’s doing at the time that he gives this name? he’s almost just been hired as a dishwasher at bamonte’s, maroni’s favorite restaurant. given the job, he’s warned that he hears nothing, sees nothing, says nothing. in all likelihood, oswald gives maroni this name mainly for its obvious italian origin, attempting (successfully) to endear himself to the obviously italian don by claiming “his mother’s” italian ancestry. however, there are a lot of italian names he could have chosen from. i don’t see why his choice of this one couldn’t also be a subtle way of reaffirming that he’s following the rules set out for him. paolo malatesta’s wikipedia page (and like, wikipedia as a source, i know, i know, but) takes this a little further, recounting that paolo is traditionally portrayed as a man “not very inclined to aspirations for power.” very NOT oswald, obviously. at the same time, very appropriate for his meek act as he slowly endears himself to maroni. even spicier, though, is this: “recent investigations, however, reveal [paolo] as a young man very attentive to politics and immersed in the political intrigue of the time.” so, could this mean that his fake name is not only a reaffirmation of his lowly position, but also a very, very veiled hint that he’s more than he seems? it would feel appropriate, in this case, that the traditional interpretation of malatesta is the one that oswald is banking on to facilitate his squirm into maroni’s inner circle, while the contemporary reading is the one he actually identifies with. that’s oswald all over; in touch with the old ways, yet in a class all his own.

a little less dramatically, paolo, like the anglicized “paul,” has roots meaning “small” or “humble.” so, in more ways than one, the name can be seen as oswald bending at the knee to maroni’s apparent superiority... and beginning to bide his time.

now, peter humboldt. 

you know, i really never did like this name? i’ve watched 1x4 at least six or seven times, and it always kind of made me go :/ when he offered it, because it’s just kind of... ugly, i guess. i have to say though (while i still think it’s ugly on sound alone), i’m fully obsessed with it now. 

like i said, i’m breaking this down into two parts. my analysis of the “peter” half, as with my analysis of “dmitri,” is a little more tenuous, just because it’s a fairly plain, common name. however, the low hanging fruit is the apostle peter, and never let it be said that i don’t take the low hanging fruit. so... peter. on the surface, oswald doesn’t have a whole lot in common with the story of peter the apostle, and that kind of threw a wrench in my analysis for a while. being inclined to fit that particular square block into this particular round hole, though, i got there. don’t worry, y’all. my penchant for bullshit knows no bounds.

first thing’s first, it bears note that “peter” was an alias of sorts for the apostle, too, since his given name was simon/simeon. he was jesus’s first disciple, and went from that to eventually heading up the church after the crucifixion and all following, becoming the “first pope.” such an ascension is a little reminiscent of oswald’s from umbrella boy to the head of the gotham underworld, i guess. and that’s cool. But We Can Go Deeper. i think it’s always kind of useful to keep in mind who the alias is for at the time; who oswald is trying to fool. in this case, the recipient of his bullshit is barbara kean, with an audience of an already in-the-know jim gordon. before his ascension, and furthermore, before either of them joined with christ, peter was already affiliated with a few other disciples: andrew (his brother), john, and james. (neither here nor there, but st. james was the first of the disciples to be martyred. jim...) peter and james--and the others, but i’m talking about peter and james--worked together; they were fishermen. in light of his audience, i think that it’s not entirely inconceivable that oswald is affirming his pre-ascent connection to james gordon (who he does exclusively refer to as james for the duration of the scene, rather than the ‘jim’ we get a lot more later on). not to mention, you know, the whole nautical theme. it’s not a particularly inspired link, but it does kind of work for him. additionally, while i still admit this is not the strongest meta i’ve ever written, oz choosing this name for these reasons would pair nicely with a running theme later in the season (that gets more or less dropped off by season 2, disappointingly), wherein oswald is repeatedly implied to have at least a tenuous christian background and some possible lingering expression of faith... think about the season finale, when falcone tells him he’ll burn in hell and oswald is momentarily taken aback, admitting, “i do worry about that.” 

(while i’m on this particular bullshit, one other thing that peter is known for is denying jesus three times after his death, but ultimately being forgiven and heading jesus’s church anyway. because i am a lover of Increasingly Tenuous Connections, i kind of see this as foreshadowing of the twist in 1x7. oswald’s protests to fish in the pilot that he would never betray her are reminiscent of peter’s insistence that even if every other disciple renounced jesus, he would not. naturally, he did betray her, and implicitly falcone through her. he continues renouncing his falcone ties, first by secretly joining maroni and then by openly joining maroni and threatening to spark a gang war... but at the end of it all, we learn that his “loyalties” (such as they are) never actually changed--he’s still falcone’s man. just. idk. idk. i’m Thinking About It.) 

aaaaand, finally, humboldt. 

so :) 

this is the part that i honestly wrote this whole thing to explore. because the thing is? i looooooove that he chose the name humboldt, now that i feel like i know why he chose it. i still think it sounds like a stupid name, but the subtext? the implications? UGH! 

right off the bat, my first impression was just that it sounds like the word “humble,” which goes back to the thing with paolo. neat enough. but, this name isn’t given to don maroni--it’s given to barbara. and remember, that’s important. so, what does humboldt mean, other than that? well, the one person with that name famous enough to bear mentioning is apparently alexander von humboldt. i’m certain that the name is, one way or another, a reference to him... and i’ll get to why in a second. he was a prussian (so, eastern european--check) polymath, as well as a naturalist, romantic philosopher, explorer, etc, and raised mainly by a single mother to boot. not all of his hats are directly related to oswald’s interests and skillsets, i’ll grant you, but the fact that he was a naturalist does have direct implications for why i think oswald choosing this name was a deliberate reference to this person by the writers of the show, because see, the thing is, there were quite a few animals named after him... including Spheniscus humboldti.

the humboldt penguin.

given that it’s gotham, i do have to acknowledge the possibility (probability) that that’s as deep as it goes. the writers were looking for a clever way to slip another penguin reference in there (they’re not. exactly. subtle, especially in season one, with the way that the characters are going to turn out), they looked up breeds of penguins, found this one, that’s it. but, on the other hand, there are other breeds of penguins that they could have chosen, and they chose this one. whether it was deliberate or only an accident, the decision was made, and i am running with it. 

because, like, another fun thing about humboldt: he was gay. 

(side note 2: you know tfw you’re on someone’s wikipedia page and there’s a ton of information about them and their life and their contributions to science but you’re like outta my way i ONLY want to know this man’s sexuality? ah, the personal life tab. where would we be without you.)

well, it’s one of those situations where you have to decide if you’re going to try to ascribe modern sexuality labels to historical figures, and at the end of the day, i won’t really get into it. however, though there is some scholarly discourse that cites him as a largely asexual figure (and while i’m definitely not getting into it and do not intend this as an attack on the asexual community in any way, i have to say an obviously gay man being desexualized to make him more palatable feels... familiar), the facts seem undeniable that he experienced same-sex attraction, whether or not you want to define this as exclusive. it is speculated that he had notable affairs with or at least vehement attraction toward wilhelm gabriel wegener, reinhardt von haeften, françois arago, and possibly his valet seifret, among others. maybe gotham writers didn’t intend for this little throwaway alias to be read as an announcement of oswald’s sexuality (although, even if “humboldt” wasn’t, the exchange he has with barbara--“i never get to meet any of jim’s friends, because he doesn’t tell me anything” “men.” “don’t i know!”--sure was... something), but as i am not a coward, i am perfectly content to read it as one anyway. and don’t forget what i said--this is the alias he gives to barbara. barbara, about whom he knows a possibly suspicious amount, given that she’s almost irrelevant to his political schemes. barbara, whose apartment he went to for jim gordon. barbara, who is, perhaps, his perceived romantic rival. 

look, it’s probably just a name and a penguin joke. but what’s the point of metatextual analysis if you can’t be like “he showed up and told barb his name was peter humboldt because he wanted to affirm that his origins are tied to saint jim’s and let it be known that the two of them are in competition for jim’s attention all in the most dramatic way possible and while smugly congratulating himself on being so clever and subtle”?? this isn’t really a threat--in contrast to how creepy he is with women he is threatening, namely fish and liza, oswald is downright courteous to barbara--so much as it is an indulgent expression of petty jealousy. i think he wants jim but perhaps doesn’t even realize the extent or in which way yet; he just wants barbara to know, on some level, that she’s sharing, and jim to know (because jim is just as much an audience to his performance here, and he knows that the alias is fake, might be driven to consider, with that detective brain of his, why he chose what he chose...), on some level, that they’re tied. 

oof. ok. that was a lot, but one last thing. since i’m already indulging in gratuitous oswald parallels with humboldt anyway, i might as well point out this line from a letter he wrote to reinhardt von haeften, after von haeften’s engagement to a woman: “Even if you must refuse me, treat me coldly with disdain, I should still want to be with you... the love I have for you is not just friendship or brotherly love, it is veneration.”

i’m on my bullshit, but... you can hear it in his voice, right?

[sincerelyreidburke]

OK PROPOSAL?? HOUSE HUNTING?? CHILD ADOPTION??? WHAT??? CARE TO ELABORATE??? Also can I just say that all med students really are the same? I have personally threatened my own Dutch bf into delaying any proposal ideas until both of our degrees are done bc the Future is my only motivator and if I get it too soon it won't be good lol. It cracks me up to think that as soon as quinn's criteria are met nando the simp trips over himself to propose (literally?) lol

Okay, people, because of this ask, and because I feel like it, it’s time to talk about far-future Quindo. I will answer some of your questions that have been looming based on my continuous dropped hints. Come with me on this journey.

And by the way, Brenna, it continues to entertain me how you and Quinn are literally the same.😂😂 Quinn would absolutely personally threaten Nando not to get too many creative ideas until they at least have gotten a place to live together, and Quinn has started in medical school.

Let’s hop under the cut and I’ll tell you some details! (This got so long, but no regrets.)

- So I think I’ve talked about this in a few places now, but something that’s always true with Quinn and Nando, even early on, is that they understand their relationship is long-term. Neither of them is really looking to date casually, and once they’ve been together for a reasonable amount of time to draw this conclusion (six months, I’d say?), they’re each already pretty much planning on getting married. Do I think they necessarily talk about this that early on? Probably not. But the long-term future conversations come along eventually, and they’re very much on the same page about everything.

- I also did this post semi-recently about the fact that their relationship very much contributes to each of them wanting to settle down. They both knew they wanted, like, marriage and kids one day before they had each other, but the presence of each other makes it much more real for both of them. With each other, there’s a person in those daydreams of the future, a more concrete plan in mind. Instead of just thinking of my future husband, they can think specifically of each other.

- Anyway. As I’ve said, Nando is already sort of thinking about proposal plans before they graduate. (Here’s a glimpse into his simp brain circa graduation.) But they also have a lot of other plans and things to do around the time of graduation. Here’s where they wind up at the time of graduation.

- Nando has secured a job, to start mid-summer, with the Phoenix Dept. of Social Services. Is this a real department that exists? Let’s just say I hope so. I feel like it has to. Anyway, it’s very much related to everything he studied with his sociology major, and it’s exactly what he wanted, and he’s very happy.

- Quinn is going to medical school. I feel like this has been heavily implied. Bear with me and suspend your disbelief a little, because, look: I fully understand how difficult medical school admissions actually are. And I also understand that you can’t necessarily be choosy with where you go based on geography, since the aspiring medical student in my life is always going on like I’m just going to apply to like fifty schools all over the place and go wherever I get in. But I want Quinn to have nice things and also geographic stability, so....

- Let’s just say Quinn puts a lot of eggs in the U of Arizona medical school basket. I think he submits other applications, but as we’ve discussed in mostly theatre contexts, Quinn is somehow an extremely confident person and also the king of underestimating his ability to succeed. He always expects disappointment, because he believes this is the key to never actually being disappointed. (See this ficlet for a theatre dive into his mentality on that topic.)

- For this reason, I think Quinn maybe anticipates a rejection in med school admissions. His plan, for if/when this happens, is that he’ll take a year off. He’s fully aware that that might hurt his chances with getting into medical school at all, but I think this is a good time to remind everybody that Quinn, for a hot minute, doesn’t really have a home. Nando and his family welcome him in when his grandparents disown him to ensure that he has a place to go, but the only reason Quinn isn’t homeless for awhile in there is because he’s living at college.

- And yes, I know that, like, renting an apartment and going to medical school is a thing you can do. But for Quinn, trying to establish stability in a life with Nando is the most important thing. He wants, desperately, to go to medical school, but is willing to delay that if the only way he could go would be to be very far away from him.

- We have to just imagine that things work out for Quinn, because, spoiler alert, he does get in at U of Arizona, to start the autumn after graduation. Senior spring, he gets a letter from them, puts it on his desk, and literally doesn’t open it for an entire day because he thinks it’s a rejection. The reason he does open it is because Nando sees it and freaks out.

- Anyway. For Quinn, I want good things. Therefore, he is simultaneously able to start a life with Nando and live out his academic and career goals.

- So this is an extremely long-winded way of telling you that Nando and Quinn move to Arizona after graduation, which I’ve told you in passing before. Because they are college graduates and neither of them has a whole lot of money, they actually move back in with Mama Hernandez.

- Please understand that Maria Hernandez, as a very Catholic Latina woman, welcomes Quinn into her home with open arms— but absolutely refuses to let them share a bedroom.😂😂😂😂

(On the phone, like a month before graduation.)

Maria: I’ve been cleaning the basement up for Quinn. Do you think I should clean out the closet, or will he only use a dresser?

Nando: Uh... Mama? What do you mean, cleaning out the basement?

Maria: Well, it’s where he’ll be staying.

Nando: .......... But we’re getting married?

Maria: Oh, not so fast, Sebastián. You aren’t married yet, are you? And unmarried couples under my roof—

Nando, who has heard this before: I know, I know, but—

Maria: It’s just the same as last summer.

Nando: But we’re looking for a house together—

Maria: It’s a matter of under my roof. No buts.

Nando, who has literally been sleeping in the same bed with Quinn 80% of the time for the past four years of college: Mama—

Maria: No buts, Sebastián!

- So they move into separate rooms in Maria Hernandez’s house.😂😂😂😂

- That summer, Quinn does another theatre thing the way he did with Gabi and Rosa the summer before, and Nando works at his Tio’s restaurant part-time while he waits for his new job to start. He keeps working for Tio, even if only a shift or two per week, even once he’s started his new job, because that restaurant was his papa’s along with Tio’s and he’s incapable of not helping out his family.

- They settle into a routine, and it’s a very lovely summer while they wait for the rest of their lives to begin. :)

- By the way, somewhere in the area of senior spring, Nando bought an engagement ring. It was the result of a lot of saving and planning, and it’s a simple ring but it’s very suited to Quinn’s tastes, and basically he’s just low-key bursting at the seams to get engaged. (Not that it’ll change Maria’s bedsharing policy😂😂😂😂 but he just really wants to be his fiancé.)

- But here’s the fun part. Quinn has also been thinking about proposing.

- Now let us all cry together while I tell you that Quinn goes to Maria to ask about proposing to him. It’s while Nando is at work at the restaurant one night, I think, and Gabi and Rosa are, idk, either out or just in bed. They’re 11 or 12, so they’re probably in bed. Quinn and Maria get along really well, so they’re just having a conversation out on the back patio at the house. They spend a lot of evenings like that while Quinn waits for Nando to get home from work and give him the one (1) goodnight kiss that Maria allows them before they retire to their separate chambers.

- The conversation is pretty standard of most ‘asking the parent because I want to propose’ conversations. Maria, of course, loves Quinn, and wants him to be an official part of her family by becoming her son-in-law, so she gives him her blessing. (By the way, I do think that Maria is aware that Nando is planning a proposal, but she’s possibly entertained by the fact that they’re racing each other to do it.)

- Maria leaves, for a second, during this conversation with Quinn, and goes up to her own room. She comes downstairs with something and puts it in Quinn’s hand.

- It’s Nando’s papa’s wedding band.

- She tells him that this is what Ángel (Papa’s name) would have wanted.

- Quinn is incredibly, wholly touched by this gesture. When he tries to propose, this is what he’ll use.

- And house hunting!! Obviously, they don’t plan to live with Maria forever. Getting a place of their own is their top priority as soon as they graduate, but they don’t have nowhere near enough money saved up to do so.

- I think I have to make a whole other post about how they get a house and also how the engagement ultimately goes down, because this is getting so long, and even though those two things are set in place and planned, I feel like they’d each double the size of this monster bullet-list. So... feel free to ask me about them, and I’ll elaborate!!!!

- I’m also going to elaborate on the adoption/accidental baby acquisition thing in a separate post. But what happens, and when, and how? Stay tuned and I’ll tell you.

Thanks for enabling me, Brenna!!! I’m grateful for your asks, as always. :D

[damienthepious]

idk idk idk i’m just doing my best

Going Through Changes, Ripping Out Pages (chapter 5)

[ch 1] [ch 2] [ch 3] [ch 4] [ao3] [ch 6] [ch 7] [ch 8] [ch 9] [ch 10] [???]

Fandom: The Penumbra Podcast

Relationship: Lord Arum/Sir Damien/Rilla

Characters: Lord Arum, Sir Damien, Rilla, The Keep

Additional Tags: Second Citadel, Lizard Kissin’ Tuesday, Established Relationship, (uhhhhh sorta), Amnesia, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, (WE WILL GET THERE…… EVENTUALLY)

Summary: Lord Arum wakes to discover that some things have changed while he slept. Namely, there is a human in his bed.

Chapter Summary: Just a moment to breathe together.

Chapter Notes: happy LKT! it's finally not death-grip hot today. i hope you're doing well <3

~

The Keep brings the pair of them to a familiar room, though not one that they would have expected. There are a lot of spaces in the Keep that don't have particular functions, exactly, since Arum isn't keen on categorization or organization, but this room he and Rilla have mostly taken to calling the study. It has a few books (far fewer than the scroll room), a couple soft seats (fewer than the dining room) and a window shaded by a thin, wide-leafed curtain of vines, and as they enter, the Keep drops another set of vines, lifting Rilla's instrument from beside the window and pressing it into her hands.

Rilla stares down, and Damien watches her swallow roughly as her hand wraps around the neck. It's a homemade thing, the same instrument that she engineered during her first stay within these walls, though it has been structurally bolstered and restrung and better tuned and painted with playful florals since that time. Rilla laughs, and it sounds nearly hollow, and the Keep's vines press the instrument more firmly into her grip.

"Keep," she says, her tone uncertain and worried, and the Keep warbles an urgent set of tones, pushing the instrument again before it releases it into her hands. "I'm… I'm not sure if-"

The Keep sings, then. Sings in words, the first line of a familiar song, and Rilla clutches the neck of the instrument tight enough that one of the strings makes a tight high noise against her fingernail.

"Oh," Damien says, catching the Keep's meaning, and it is so strange, he thinks, that such a sound can fill him with such warm memory and such sadness at the same moment. "Oh," he repeats breathlessly. "I see. You believe that he might… if he hears- you think the familiarity of the song, the association between it and us-"

"No. No, that's not going to work," Rilla says firmly, her eyes upturned vaguely in the direction of the Keep.

Damien sighs as the Keep exhales a wilted sort of song, but he can't deny that he agrees with his flower. Rilla winces, though, raising a hand to pat at the air consolingly.

"I mean- Keep, it's a really sweet idea, and the theory that he'll remember the song-" her voice goes strange and wobbly for a moment, and then she inhales and continues, "the theory that it would help him remember isn't without merit. Music has a lot of connection to memory, between repeated patterns of things like rhyme and rhythm and leitmotifs- but- but I don't think he's gonna take it very well if we try to like, perform a little three-creature concert for him, y'know?"

The Keep sings again, tentative but hopeful, and Rilla sighs.

"He'll think we're trying to manipulate him," she says quietly. "Technically, we would be. And- and he won't buy it if he can tell I'm not fully into it. I'm an awful liar- he can always tell if I'm putting on a face, and- and honestly? I just-" she folds her arms over her chest, looking down and to the side. "I just … I really don't feel like singing, right now."

Damien's heart pulls, caught in the tide of Rilla's ill-hidden sorrow. For its part, the Keep sings again, an understanding descent of notes, an obvious concession to Rilla's points.

"Why don't you play, just a little, my love?" Damien's keeps his voice low, and he brushes his hand over hers on the neck of her instrument. "And I will do the singing myself."

"Damien," she says, sounding tired and uncertain. "It isn't going to w-"

"Not," he clarifies, "for the sake of a solution, I mean. Simply for us. You have sung for my own comfort more times than I could possibly count. If it would bring you more distress, you need not play, but at least let me sing for you. Our Keep has made a lovely suggestion, and I should like, I think, to take some small measure of comfort where I can, and share it."

"Oh," Rilla says, blinking, and then she breathes a weak sort of laugh. "Oh, I mean… if you- if you want?"

Damien smiles, and it feels mostly genuine. They still have not come to any solutions, but surprising Rilla is delightful enough to warm him regardless. "I believe you are correct," he says, "that any attempts at artifice will only cause our lily to mistrust our intentions further. Perhaps we should attempt to show him your recordings, next. That seems an appropriate step. But currently, while he is… cooling off, as you put it, I think we should take a moment of our own. Settle our minds, comfort our souls." He squeezes her hand, ducking his head. "Will you let me sing for you?"

"Damien," she says, and her cheeks are dark as her lips tilt into a fond smile. She glances down to her instrument, and then she sighs, and sits, and lifts it to a proper playing position as she meets Damien's again. "I'll play. You can sing, if you really want to. But- but you don't have to sing for me, okay?"

"I know," he says, settling to sit beside her as her fingers dance across the frets, lazily adjusting the tuning. "But surely you know that I want to."

Her smile grows, and she plucks out a few unconnected chords. "Alright, alright," she says, voice warm, and then she bites her lip for a moment as her fingers move, as she strums through a few more experimental notes before she decides on something he can sing along with.

Another folk song, one without quite such a fraught connection to the four of them, this time. A song about warm rains and bolting for shelter, about closeness and laughter, about staying together in the hidden places, even after the storm passes by.

She is always so beautiful when she plays. She laughs, even, when the Keep begins to hum wordlessly along with Damien, and he nearly loses his thread when the combination of her talent and her joy threatens to overwhelm his heart. Eventually, on the final verse, she lets her own voice raise to join theirs, harmonizing until she strums the last chord.

Her smile tilts her lips, and her eyes sparkle between rueful and mischievous.

"Tactical and romantic," she murmurs, and Damien attempts to look innocent. "Okay, okay, I'm actually feeling a little better now. Happy?"

At the admission, Damien's shoulders relax, and he cannot help his own smile. "Absolutely delighted, my flower," he says, and then he leans closer, and Rilla breathes another small laugh as she lifts one hand away from the frets to cup his cheek, to pull him more decisively into the kiss.

Damien freezes when he hears the sharp inhale from the doorway, and he can feel the too-small reserves of comfort and warmth shrink within him. He can feel Rilla's frame stiffen beneath his hands as well, and he forces himself to pull back, to glance aside, to look where he knows he will see-

Arum leans on the doorframe, two hands clinging to the wood, his thin lips parted and his expression confused and open and raw. A moment after Damien looks towards him, though, he snaps his jaw shut again, forcing himself to look nearly blank.

Nearly. Damien knows him too well to be entirely fooled.

"How- how long were you-"

Rilla cuts herself off before she finishes the question, and Arum looks away with a throaty rumble, his tail flicking behind him.

"Long enough to know you were including my Keep in your little moment of bonding, which I do not appreciate in the-"

Arum cuts himself off as well, and Damien wonders for a strange moment if this is a very convoluted attempt at mocking, but the lizard's mouth twists into an uncomfortable line as he visibly struggles through some decision, his hands clenching and unclenching from tense fists as the rattle in his throat grows again.

Arum inhales, glances back behind himself for a moment, and then he seems to shake whatever thoughts he had been grappling, and he narrows his eyes at Rilla.

"You," he says, and Damien can see the way he is layering suspicion over his confusion now. "Rilla. You mentioned the Senate, when discussing how you claim we first came to… to know one another. What do you know of them?"

Rilla bites her lip, confused over this sudden return to interrogation. She furrows her brow as she meets Damien's eye for a moment, and he gives the shadow of a shrug, exactly as unsure about the monster's intent as Rilla herself is.

"Uh, only what you've told me?" she tilts her head, setting her instrument gingerly to the side of their seat and then crossing her arms over her chest as she thinks. "Which honestly isn't all that much. I don't think you really like talking about them? And as far as I know they haven't been much of a factor since the mess at Fort Terminus. They kinda-sorta run the show with the monsters in general, yeah? Mostly because they're powerful enough to just… do what they want, even if it infringes on what other monsters want."

Arum frowns, but despite his clear displeasure he nods. "That is not entirely inaccurate." He pauses, tension in his jaw before he continues, "and you are certain that I am… no longer in communication, then, with these beasts?"

Rilla's eyebrows shoot up, and Damien answers, "You have certainly not mentioned any correspondence, no. May I ask why this is a concern, currently?"

"Do you think they're involved?" Rilla asks, eager, and Arum's snout wrinkles.

"I cannot say for certain," he mutters, and then he bares his teeth uncomfortably, "and if I do not discuss them with you, I do not know how I could find out."

Damien turns that phrasing over in his head, and he is sure that he must have misheard for a moment, because he seems to be implying-

"Wait." Rilla shifts at his side, sitting straighter. "Wait. You're talking like- do you believe us?"

Arum stares at her for a moment, brow furrowed, and then he blinks quickly, hissing sharp and low.

Damien watches him hunch his shoulders, duck his head, hands flexing, and Damien does not know if his heart should swell or plummet. Arum did not even realize his own implication.

"I-" the monster stammers. "That is not-" he shakes his head, his frill fluttering with distress. "I do not-"

Damien stands, and Rilla stands a moment after, her hand at his elbow.

"Arum," Damien tries, and the monster snaps his jaw shut, glaring between the both of them for a long moment.

"… I do not know what to believe," he says slowly, eventually, and then he drops his eyes. "So … so perhaps you should continue attempting to prove your point. If- if you are so terribly certain that you are correct, if you believe you have some so-called evidence that may be so utterly compelling…" he trails off, exhales a slow sigh, and then gestures with a hand, prompting the Keep to form a doorway at his back. "I may have found some evidence of my own. Come. Convince me, and perhaps I will show you what I've found."

[->]

[singingcookie]

👀👀 SO. THAT LATEST CHAPTER OF DOJ 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

👀👀👀👀 Yes. It certainly was a thing wasn’t it?  👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 In all seriousness this chapter was really difficult for me to bring myself to work on. And it was mostly because (compared to most of my other chapters) this one was really lacking detail. I had a few moments that stood out but figuring out how to smush them together in a cohesive way was hard. With that said, I’m gonna do something I haven’t done much til now. I’m gonna share my original outline for this chapter under the read more.

I might throw in comments between sections/thoughts. I normally post my outline at the bottom of my chapter documents and gradually get rid of bullet points as I get through them. This’ll be the first time I’ve looked at the outline since I completed, so I apologize for the length this might take on lol. That said....

DOJ CHAPTER 20 SPOILERS READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

Deku’s pov this chapter.

Skip ahead to them at the thing. They’re in Tarasanudo in Kanagawa. Somewhere close to the Tokyo Bay. Last train will leave a bit after 9pm.

I like to preface my outlines with a pov if there’s a change from the previous chapter. Any ones that are continuations (so with chapters 9 & 10 for Deku, and chapters 11-15 for Ochako) don’t really get labelled like this but since it was Ochako for 19 I had to. I knew right away this had to be Izuku that we were hearing from because his thoughts--his perception of Uraraka in the story thus far--have been pretty close to nonexistent. I figured it was about time (especially put into this position) for us to glean an idea of what exactly is going on under that curly hair of his.

The second bullet point is just a point of reference for me so I don’t forget anything 😅 I’ll probably carry it on through my next few chapters too. Again, just so I don’t forget as I go since the setting will be relevant until the festival ends.

We get festival shenanigans maybe just them looking around at things at first. He keeps getting wrapped up in Uraraka. Lingering on whatever she does. Her excitement at the foods, the decorations. The way she sways to the music from each and every stall. Obviously this should be at least a few paragraphs. If not a page.

HAHAHAHA, oh man. So much for that. Deku really went damn wild at the start of this chapter. The whole introduction (before Ochako says the FIRST LINE OF DIALOGUE FOR THE CHAPTER WTF) was 2 pages long on my chapter document. And I remember being shook about it. “This much Deku??? You have this much to say?” It probably would have been less if he didn’t want to retell the whole dang story with the netsuke BUT HE DID WHAT HE DOES I GUESS!!

I also added the okonomiyaki scene pretty sporadically, I didn’t have it in my oultine at all. But I needed an introductory scene into them at the festival before Bakugou and Kirishima showed up. I think it turned out pretty well? I got a lot of questions about my research on that one cause it was so specific! 😅 Truth is I just look up those kinda details as I get to them mid-writing. Makes it take longer but the learning part is really interesting and fun for me!

And then there’s also the hints of them being followed by at least  two of their classmates, working up Uraraka and stemming Deku’s fear. Also added because I needed to segue naturally between the okonomiyaki and cork gun scenes.

Uraraka points to a cork gun stall nearby and says that she wants to play. They don’t fully approach the stand though, Uraraka standing back to look over the prizes to see what she wants to play for. He wonders why she doesn’t just play and figure it out later. She says that she’ll play better if she has something in mind already “don’t question my methods” she hums for a moment and he kinda playfully regards her. Maybe a mild stirring of something.

She surges forward, reaching for one of the cork guns while she holds the yen out for the vendor. “Hey, take the next one over.” Oh god Kacchan’s grabbed the same cork gun and now him and Uraraka are glaring at each other. Kirishima apologizes for the interruption, telling Kacchan that he can just take the next one over. He greets Deku who replies while still watching as Uraraka and Kacchan glare even while he complies to their classmate’s request. Both of them slam their money on the counter. Aaaaand they’re making it a competition. Great.

Thiiiiiiis turned out more of less the same, clearly. 😂 I had a different concept in my head originally of how these games worked there. Ended up digging hard for videos and photos to find out properly. Ended up altering my image to match but it still managed to work out on that front, regardless.

I knew I wanted Kirishima and Bakugou here with them (not only because I love the ship) but it gave them a chance to unwind and relax. Kind of ease off on the tension of them being stuck alone together. Not to mention that I felt it would be really good for cementing the idea of a “something more” kind of pondering in Deku.

Kirishima and Deku talk about what they’ve been up to since getting to the festival. Maybe Deku wonders about the snack that Kirishima has. It looks delicious. Some kinda meat thing. “Where’s the stall?” Kirishima tries to explain but Deku just looks lost. “How ‘bout me and--Bakugou just show you where once they’re finished?”

“That sounds--” Deku’s cut off by a whoop and when he looks back to the stand, they’re both setting the cork guns back down. Uraraka’s reveling in her victory and Kacchan tells her she only got one more point, so she shouldn’t be so excited. She says he’d be just as excited if the scores were reversed. The vendor has to remind them they have prizes to pick.

Kirishima and Deku kind of just ^^; about it. They get whatever the prizes are. Ochako maybe picked something with the idea of giving it to Inko. Kirishima says to Bakugou that he told Deku they’d show him to the stand with the meat skewers.

This got altered a LOT WOW. I think the reason this section changed so much was because I was trying to find a way to make the chapter flow. I left a lot of details out and mostly went big picture because I knew this part of the festival would involve a lot of tiny things that would be a pain to plan out. Lots of minor minutiae that I knew I’d get annoyed if I had to change a lot.

I knew I had to keep Kirishima with MEAT because he’s Kiri (hello it’s listed as one of his fav things even!) and I knew I wanted to have him almost tripped up and saying “Katsuki” just to hammer home where exactly they’re at rn in their interactions.

I extended their interactions together because saying “hey let’s walk around” only to separate them with narry another conversation felt pointless and stilted. That’s why I added the extended convo about the game (I didn’t have it in the outline that she cheated but when I thought about the game and her quirk, it was too fitting to not include!) and also the thing about their internships and things being “too calm” again. Was really trying to hammer home one last “YOU SHOULDN’T FEEL COMFORTABLE” for all you readers lol

They might get stuck together for a bit maybe up through the fireworks. They only realize after the fireworks are through. Uraraka wonders about if maybe there’s something that Deku wants to do now, especially since Bakugou and Kirishima p much vanished.

Deku says something offhandedly. He hadn’t really been pulled toward anything in particular. Maybe they could just walk around, see if they find some of the others. Maybe some kinda casual conversation. Ochako has them stop because she sees a yo-yo fishing game and she really wants a water yo-yo.

As you can see, the fireworks scene (which apparently everyone adores?) was very much not planned LOL. Nor was Bakugou clearly and purposefully ditching them. I don’t really have much in the way of explanations other than it’s what felt right. I considered including a time skip or two during this chapter...but then I realized how silly that would be over such a short time period. So I ended up including the ditching (including Bakugou literally yelled that “Nope!” and it was like “oh okay that’s what we’re doing cool thanks for the memo?”) and then the fireworks was a clear “time is passing while he’s wistful” kind of moment. I think it went over well and segued pretty naturally into this.

Deku just watches, musing to himself over how nice this has been...how nice she looks...she said something about wanting to give the stuffed animal in his grasp to his mom. As a thank you for the yukata. He still can’t believe that Inko never said anything to him about it. But honestly...what would he have said. What would he have done? He’s seen her in it for a while now and he still hasn’t commented about it to her…yeah, okay, he did try twice. Once at school and once with Eri but since then he hasn’t bothered to try again.

Maybe it’s pointless. Maybe the fact that he did try twice was the universe saying that it was dumb and he definitely shouldn’t. That he would make her uncomfortable so don’t bother.

Or maybe it wasn’t about her. Maybe it was the universe scolding him from trying to say it around other people… Embarrassing her around her friends and their former teacher...yeah. Yeah, no. It was definitely that. He needed to say something. She deserved to hear it. He couldn’t tell her about her kimono during that New Years celebration. Shouldn’t he tell her now? Respect both her and his mother’s efforts? Yes. He should definitely say something now.

As you can see....pretty much nothing here changed LOL. I knew this was exactly right but some stuff got clarified and extended, I feel. Made it feel a lot more stream of conscious like as a result of that.

Side note Deku has a big tendency to repeat himself mentally when I write him....idk why this happens but it does lmao.

Uraraka comes back over with her water yo-yo. She says something idk what. But Deku starts to try to say something about her thing. Bringing it up very slowly and awkwardly but before he can explain properly she interrupts him. “Deku-kun, do you hear that?” He goes quiet as he listens. Then……screaming. 

Then they hear someone exclaim that it looks like the bonfire is out of control. They look and...that’s not a normal bonfire. Those are blue flames.

LOL “She says something idk what” is such a staple of my outlines I cry. 😂 That and “Idk something else needs to go here figure it out later”

Anyway though another case of extension here. I knew I was gonna have to with “bringing it up slowly and very awkwardly” that’s vague and I had to show that happening so it was bound to be. I actually struggled on whether or not to let him say it. But ultimately it felt dissatisfying to let him say it and not give Uraraka or the readers the chance to dwell on it. It needs a moment to itself. It needs to be a heavy, impactful moment--but the problem is the League reveal was heavier so it would have knocked it away just as much as him not saying it at all.

Obviously my reveal (the last bullet point) changed a lot with how I conveyed it...also Uraraka’s line. But when I was writing it I realized that Uraraka would be more horrified than my outline which, as you can see, is really calm in comparison. But I knew the only way to reveal it all was Dabi blue flames. A staple of the League... But having Deku’s last line was a better ending line.

ANYWAY, sorry that took so long but. There you have it. Deeper thoughts and perspective from the planning of the chapter. I hope this was interesting seeing the difference between my outline, but I apologize if my commentary was at all boring lol

Thanks Kat!! Always happy to talk!!! 💖💖💖💖

[natsspammityspamspamham]

Dino Rant (Nov 27 + Other Side Tales)

My siblings are currently mad at me. Here’s what went down. Tagging: @akaskira​ @ce-la​ @caratheillustrious​ Who are all practically my spiritual online older sister/sage advice givers and @lizard-in-the-rain​ who can be an idiot along with me.

For context:  Ate = Sister Kuya = Brother * My dad and I have a rocky past because he’s very old-fashioned, hasn’t been always supportive about my mental health, and is really old and out of date (especially about LGBTQ, feminism, HK protests, etc.) * My sister also has a rocky past with me but has since calmed down a little thanks to old age (she’s 23) * My brother is constantly busy with school (and stressed), is still mourning his breakup after a few months which continues to salt his wounds (not because his ex is crappy but she’s really nice. He’s having a bit of trouble still.), and is a very sensitive person (more sensitive than my sister)

Further in, you can see what happened at the orchestra concert on Saturday. For context, you can check out a previous rant.

Me: Dad got some bad oil burns. I was in the family room as he was yelling “[MOM NAME x 3] WHAT DO I DO WITH OIL BURNS?” Mom was upstairs and didn’t hear They are kinda big He’s upset

Ate: What the why didn't you help him call mom???? did you??? yike oil burns are no joke bc they hurt for longer bc water just steams away but oil sticks and keeps burning and the scars are worse

Me: Uh... I was scrolling on tumblr? I don’t know. I thought he already put ice.

Ate: smh

Me: But looking back, I heard the water running for less than a minute.

Ate: LOL

Me: And never heard the freezer open

Ate: water won't help unless you use soap anyways

Me: So I thought he did that but he was really just yelling for mom He didn’t even ice it. He said he ran some water over it.

Ate: make sure you help if someone yells for help next time even if you think it's handled bc if a person is panicking/in pain they're likely not thinking straight to help themselves speaking from experience

Me: Mom tried to give him advice now and he just walked away going “uh huh”

Ate: even I know to put my hand under cold running water and ice it but I've definitely not done that when I've burnt myself before I would be pretty choked too if there were 2 other people in the house and neither of them came to help me when I got oil burns

Me: Mom was upstairs and couldn’t hear. I thought he was crying wolf as usual.He yells for mom around three times on a daily basis

Ate: fair but fr next time take the 5 seconds to check bc sometimes bad things happenesp if all you hear is a thud

Me: “[Mom Name x 3 again] I CANT FIND THE [blank]!!!” Mom: it’s been in the same spot for over a decade. Look with your eyes.

Me: Mom does that once every other day (has a big thud) usually because something broke. When I heard the yell this time, I thought it was because he knocked something over. Dad is always yelling He even asked mom how to make the rice And didn’t make it because she didn’t answer fast enough Dad is a drama queen. That’s where we all get it from.

Ate: I mean

Kuya: Tf is this situation How can you ignore someone in need of help Regardless of who it is Doesn't it hurt to see someone suffering

Me: I didn’t see anything

Kuya: Unless you hold extreme animosity Like they killed your mom or something I have to hand something in by 10 But I find this quite upsetting

Me: I didn’t see anything, and the last thing he yelled was an oil burn, and the only advice I had was water and ice which I thought he already did.

Me (in response to animosity): Not extreme, but living with him with only me as the child has screwed a lot of things up.It has taken a toll on my sympathy for people (or whatever is left)

Ate: Same but he's still our dad?

Me: Eh, I honestly thought it was a small thing until I saw it.

Ate: I have only shreds of respect for him left but idk if I would go as far as to just overlook "oil burn" and figure "oh, I can't help so I'll ignore him" like that's a lil funny

Me: Again, when someone is constantly yelling, there’s a point where you don’t listen fully to what they’re saying. It only registered later that his burns might actually be serious and more than putting your fingertip on a hot pan. I also have little sympathy due to how he’s treated me during my past situations so honestly, I’ve little tolerance.

Afterwards, my mom called my sister who was absolutely hysterical and screaming on the other line to the point where my mom had to pull the phone away from her ear.

________________

Some Stupid Orchestra Stories:

Things I have said to my orchestra cohorts that might’ve scared them:

*sees me bump my instrument* Trumpet: Ouch Me (walking away): Snitches get stitches and end up in ditches, and dead men tell no tales. Doug: What?

*sees me bump my bow* Doug: Ouch Me (tired because I was just excluded from the conversation today because no one would listen to what I had to say): I’m going to stab you Doug: Pat, protect me!

Me: *tells anything about school* Everyone: MAJOR CONCERN (Examples: Kid said that this guy could have sex with his friend before she turned 21 by slipping a drug into her drink, kid saying he was going to hit a girl with a metal bar from the desk, kids smoking out back, kids make noise downstairs which causes the room I work in to shake, kids throwing stuff out car windows, kids brawling, my science teacher from regular school failing me for practically no reason)

More of an annoying incident from me: Hannah: Who’re you messaging? Your girlfriend? Sean: Yeah Me: YOU’RE STILL TOGETHER?! Sean: (sheepishly) yeah

To be fair, I get weirded out whenever they flash their privilege as semi-well off rich kids.  “Remember those special trips you get to take with your school to learn more about science? // Remember those international trips you take with your school club?” Me: ...no?! I’m not poor, I just dropped out of school before I could even go to my nearest McDonalds for a field trip.

But Doug is a little dumb sometimes. He doesn’t get my sense of humour (understandable), but he’s a little ignorant towards not-privileged people. 

He literally said he goes to sleep at 9:30pm, got into university (this is a semi-prestigious one) first try with 90s in all of his classes (at least), has a girlfriend, has friends, and doesn’t understand why anyone would stay later than that unless they had poor time management. His words, not mine. My brother stays there until around 12am studying. He was not happy to hear that. Doug is first year so my siblings are making fun of him saying he will perish in a year’s time. My parents saw him stealing kisses from his girlfriend in a parking lot during the day of our last concert. I seriously though the girl in his profile picture was his sister and not his girlfriend because they were both seriously white. Whiter than a bowl of milk I tell you.

He also doesn’t know what a period app would be for. I was a little annoyed. My brother knows about this well enough because we all know my sister and mom would not let anyone in this family live if they did not know the ins-and-outs of a period. Doug was like, “Why would you need to track that?” I responded, “Because they’re irregular.” He looked a little puzzled and I said, “Douglas, you’re a science major. There’s sex ed in school.” He responded that he is going into research (not sure what that has to do with menstrual ignorance) and never paid attention during sex ed (since it’s never for marks). I then got a little more pushy and said, “Well, if you ever want a girlfriend, maybe you should learn.” To which he said, “I have a girlfriend”. To which I gave him a look of:

Stories from the orchestra concert:

I did tell the bass instructor about this so maybe it’ll get sorted out but I did this “tell the teacher” thing twice where it backfired terribly. Let’s hope university kids are a little more grown up.

My messages from that night: Pat told me it was cute when I played in the wrong spots. It was genuine like she said it was cute. But it was like ??? I was having a panic attack. My brain left my body. I don’t want to play anymore. Then she put up her bow to make sure I wouldn’t flip the page Then she hit her bow on her bass. I really don’t want to play anymore. (She also repeated the same thing twice knowing from a previous talk that I have bad anxiety. She has anxiety as well.)

Me: Then Hannah and Patricia were commenting on my shoes. I like wearing my orthotics. They make my feet feel not in pain. Ate: tell them that Me: I did They told me to take off my shoes “They can’t even see my feet” I’m all the way in the back behind people “Then take off your shoes” “But then I’ll be in pain” “But you sit” (I have one foot on the ground) “So take them off. It’s for dress code. People can see you” Ate:  but it's literally a medical thing Tell them to actually fuck off hoh my god it's like asking a blind person to put their stick away bc people will trip on it or that you can't have your service dog with you like????

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 192: The Only Path Forward

Previously on BnHA: Dabi confronted Endeavor and Hawks following Endeavor’s victory over the High Brow Noumu. But then my girl Miruko the rabbit hero showed up, so Dabi fled the scene courtesy of some very familiar black ooze warping. We then cut to the League’s mysterious hideout, where MOTHERFUCKING HAWKS was meeting up with Dabi after the fact to complain that Dabi pulled some bullshit with their AGREED-UPON SECRET PLAN by attacking in the middle of a city with an experimental Noumu. Dabi in turn accused Hawks of playing games because he failed to mention Endeavor would be involved, and he also managed to prevent even a single casualty during the resulting chaos. So neither of them fully trust each other, but in the end Dabi sent Hawks off and agreed to call on him again. We then learned that Hawks is actually working undercover at the request of the police, who need eyes and ears within the League to prevent another disaster like Kamino. Hawks agreed to this knowing it would mean he’d have to make some hard decisions and turn a blind eye to some of the League’s antics. It’s implied he’s feeling guilty over what happened to Endeavor, so I have completed the adoption papers and had them notarized. Oh yeah, and speaking of guilt, for some reason Dabi is standing out looking at the night sky and being weirdly sentimental. So yeah, I basically have no idea who is on whose side at this point, but I’m fucking living for it you guys.

Today on BnHA: The world moves on from this latest incident of high profile villain destruction. Recovery Girl heals Endeavor and Hawks accompanies him to the train station while the two of them discuss the suspiciously coincidental appearance of the Noumu. Hawks manages to dismiss Endeavor’s suspicions, and Endeavor bids him farewell, but not before suggesting that Hawks should find somebody to help him with his investigation. We get an extremely intriguing Hawks flashback and learn that he was groomed to be a hero from childhood due to his talent, but that he never wanted it and longs for the day when society doesn’t need heroes anymore. We then cut to the Todoroki house, where Endeavor greets his three Children With Known Whereabouts and has an unpleasant confrontation with Natsuo, who hasn’t forgiven him despite his seeming change of heart and lets him know that in no uncertain terms. Shouto thoughtfully says that “Endeavor the hero” is amazing, but as far as Endeavor the person goes, his feelings are in line with Natsuo’s. However he wants to see what kind of dad he’ll become from here on out. Endeavor realizes that his new purpose is to secure a good future for his children, and that the only thing he can do is continue to move forward. That night we cut to Deku, who finds himself in a strange dream with his body is covered in black smoke. Shimura and the other OFA users are there as well. And then all of a sudden he’s watching a scene from the past -- All for One standing against his younger brother, the first OFA user.

This chapter is so fucking good and this recap is so fucking long you guys lol. because it’s just so good ahhhhhhh.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’ve read up through chapter 212 now, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

Izuku got the cover of Jump on account of the BnHA movie premiere! congratulations Izuku

and young All Might is in the upper right hand corner looking like a vintage Ken doll as always and weirding me out

I still like young All Might, but idk you guys, there’s just something about the black sclera that just cranks it up to 11 for me. really is a shame that only happens as a result of his injury

and there’s a page with some blurry clips from the movie, and then this awesome color spread celebrating 4 whole years!

it just hit home that I have less than 30 chapters left until I’m all caught up oh shit

fourth popularity poll! YOU CHUCKLEFUCKS BETTER SHOW MIRIO SOME FUCKING RESPECT THIS TIME AROUND YOU HEAR

I see Bakugou is wearing a clip-on tie here. for fuck’s sake you’re sixteen years old learn to tie the damn thing already

what the actual fuck is happening with Todoroki and Deku’s pants. and for once, not Bakugou’s. like seriously what the hell, this is unnerving

okay guys, poll time: which of these hand gestures indicating the number four is most valid. is it Deku’s, even though he’s doing it with both hands and thus arguably indicating the number eight instead? Ochako, who has the opposite problem and is going for a 2+2=4 thing? or Jirou, who opted to be asymmetrical and do three on one hand and one on the other?

why do only the girls have hats. and did Deku really insist on wearing his trademark red sneaks even though they clash so fucking horribly. why did the others allow this to happen

(ETA: you know what, given the outfits they wore during the A Band performance, they probably did not give one single fuck)

anyway, I love this page from the bottom of my heart, but we came here today to learn more about Dabi’s weird angst and to find out how screwed Hawks is and exactly how hot Endeavor is going to be once that scar heals over. so let’s get to this

so now it’s two days later and Endeavor is all healed up thanks to Recovery Girl! the perks of being a U.A. alum and the number one hero whom everyone now loves

oh mama

okay guys but I need someone to tell me right the fuck now how this man still has an eye. and an eyebrow. you’re telling me they could heal the eyeball just fine but not the rest of his face

(ETA: I actually got an ask explaining this, but I haven’t gotten a chance to take another look at the scene where he gets wounded yet. but thank you anon!)

it looks like he actually did lose half of his mustache though omg

anyways I fucking knew he was going to come out of this just unfairly hot. and just fucking look at him. smdh

as for Miruko, she just fucked right out of there to continue doing her thing afterward. lol I’m glad they bothered to tell us but honestly I wasn’t that curious, that’s basically what I assumed already

son of a bitch

dsflhlk okay JUST STOP, Horikoshi. who the fuck do you think you are making Hawks apologize so fucking casually even though we now know that in truth, he actually is responsible on a level Endeavor has no clue about, and actually has some grounds for feeling guilty even though he wasn’t to blame. like, here he is slyly making it out to be an apology for calling that meeting where they got attacked, even though in reality WE KNOW THE TRUTH

speaking of that meeting, I wonder if Endeavor has put the pieces together yet that Something Was Not Quite Right About That

also what the fuck is in this giant wheely suitcase. is it his suit?

anyway, so he’s telling Hawks that his injuries are his own responsibility

and Hawks is all “ooh that’s a good response, can I use it next time I’m injured”

ah here we go

look, Endeavor may be a lot of things, but he’s not stupid

Hawks is all “lmao fuck my life”

well you’ve had two whole days to come up with some kind of story so let’s see what you got. if it were me I’d tie it in to your investigation

he says that they were bound to draw some attention as the #1 and #2 heroes, and they probably just caught the villains’ eye

and he’s thinking to himself that that’s the whole reason why he drew so much attention toward them while they were out, so he’d have an excuse

this sounds considerably less plausible when you just got attacked by a goddamn Noumu though you know. and clearly a new breed of them no less

now Endeavor’s telling him to be careful with his investigation

don’t mind me, I’m just sitting here trying to figure out whether this has a double meaning

probably not -- I did say he wasn’t stupid, but I doubt he’s that smart to have figured the whole thing out either. still, this gave me pause lol

(ETA: yeah, on my second readthrough this just reads to me like “if you ever need backup, call me before you go and do anything stupid.” tsundere affection from someone with almost no prior experience in showing that he cares. I don’t think he has any idea what Hawks is really up to, but I think he has an inkling that there’s more going on than meets the eye, and he wants him to be careful.)

Hawks’s reaction is interesting too

and now he’s grinning in that you-like-krabby-patties-don’t-you-squidward way

he just cares about you and you’re young enough to be his son so he’s looking out for you

SPEAKING OF HIS SON are we gonna get to that anytime soon. is that where you’re headed off to now Endeavor? to be with your family? oh to be a fly on the wall during that meeting. oh wait, we’re reading a manga and I’ll literally get to read all about it in just a couple of pages, probably. fuck yeah

so Hawks says that he’ll be back on the job once all his feathers grow back

“it’ll probably be another day or so” holy shit. that’s some crazy fast recovery time

and now he’s bidding Endeavor farewell

...did Endeavor just adopt Hawks too

(ETA: he sure did. this is not a man who just waves at people. this is a dad wave. it’s weird you guys, it’s so fucking weird, but that’s what it is though! at least that’s how I read it)

don’t tell me I’m gonna have to co-parent this in-over-his-head too-smart-for-his-own-good bird child with the world’s second worst dad (yeah, Overhaul’s still got that #1 on lockdown for the rest of eternity though)

now we’re flashing back to that meeting with the cops when they first told Hawks about the undercover assignment

they’re calling it a “proposal” and Hawks is mildly objecting to that term

(ETA: “despite knowing I can’t possibly refuse.” oh my god I have so many feels for this boy. he has no choice in any of this. I just want to wrap him up and keep him safe and just let him rest and chill out and play video games and eat tacos and not have to worry about villains and secrets and keeping his damn guard up all the time and being discovered or killed or getting someone else killed. HORIKOSHI. PROTECT HIM!!)

the woman says she won’t deny that Hawks coincidentally not being in Kamino worked out well for them

oh shit! now we’re cutting to a car accident scene, and at first I thought ‘oh so is this why he wasn’t in Kamino, was he saving these people’ but no!

so this woman basically sponsored him to be a hero then? interesting

holy shiiiiit

so he genuinely does want that, what he was talking about before. but it’s because this is all he’s been doing for his whole life, and it’s simply because he felt obligated to do it because he had the talent and was pushed into the “with great power...” mindset

like, he didn’t really have a choice, is the vibe I’m getting from this? it was the right thing to do and it’s what everyone wanted and he was good at it. but that doesn’t mean it’s what he wanted. but because it’s what was needed, he went ahead and did it

jesus christ. no wonder he can’t muster any genuine starry-eyed enthusiasm for the profession the way all of the other hero characters seem to do. it’s not his dream. it’s his burden

(ETA: yeah so. imagine saving someone’s life when you’re still just a child. being put on the spot and acting without any training, but doing your best because without you these people would die. and imagine that as a reward you’re told you have an obligation to take up the most dangerous occupation there is, and sacrifice your freedom and potentially your life in order to serve the greater good. and having no choice, because you are a good person, and so you can’t just refuse, knowing that there are more lives that you could save. 

and as far as everyone else is concerned, you’re a prodigy, young and bold and gifted and living your best life. living a life that many others would envy. but the reality is you’re trapped, with no possible escape in sight other than the precarious hope that one day things will be good enough that your services will no longer be needed.

ladies and gentlemen, if I may hit you up with a blast from the past for one moment, please consider this quote from All Might all the way back in chapter one:

Hawks may have never been much of an All Might fan, but as it turns out, the two of them may have more in common than he ever realized.

yeah, so needless to say I’m watching you very closely Horikoshi, and if you so much as sneeze in a way that looks like you might be considering doing our lost little Icarus any harm, you and I are going to have words.)

and now we are cutting to the Todoroki home!

look at these sweet angels

Endeavor how did it take you so fucking long to realize what you had. you had it so fucking good, dude. these kids are all beautiful and smart and kind and talented and yet you either ignored them or treated them like absolute shit. god, man, you fucked up so bad. this is a second chance that you arguably didn’t deserve! but here you have it anyway! do not fucking waste this, dude

also loving that the Todorokis have such a traditional house but they still have the big flat screen TV right there. because they may be traditional but they still like to watch the cooking channel while they eat

so Endeavor is cautiously saying “long time no see” because you gotta start somewhere, huh

OH MY GOD

AIZAWA DROVE HIM HERE. AND THEN WHAT, JUST STAYED OUTSIDE TO WAIT?

(ETA: because who the hell would want to go and talk to Endeavor when you could stay outside and play with a cat instead)

DID THEY HAVE A MEANINGFUL CONVERSATION ON THE WAY OVER. OR WAS IT QUIET AND AWKWARD. PROBABLY A LITTLE OF COLUMN A AND A LITTLE OF COLUMN B. OH MY GOD. someone better have written fic about it!!

OH MY GOD

TODOROKI SHOUTO IS THE SASSIEST FUCKING CHARACTER IN THIS ENTIRE GODDAMN SERIES CONFIRMED. PACK IT UP BOYS. AIN’T NO ONE EVER GONNA OUTSASS THAT

ENJI I LOVE YOUR FUCKING KIDS SO MUCH YOUR FAMILY IS PERFECT YOU DON’T DESERVE THEM GODDAMN YOU

“JUST BECAUSE YOU HATE HIM”

oh shit Natsu’s getting to his feet and apologizing to Fuyu and saying that he just can’t do this

and he’s walking out the door, but Endeavor’s putting a hand on his shoulder as he leaves and telling him that if he has something to say to go ahead and say it

YOU GO AND PREACH IT, NATSU. YOU DESERVE TO GET IT ALL OFF YOUR CHEST AND HE NEEDS TO UNDERSTAND JUST HOW BADLY HE HURT YOU OR YOU ALL ARE NEVER GONNA HEAL

and I mean, damn. if he didn’t even know Shouto’s favorite food was soba then that basically means he never so much as spent five minutes together with his little brother. Shouto fucking loves soba in the same way Deku loves All Might. it’s probably the purest love in the entire series

yet again the series gives us a glorious scene of Shouto eating food during a time of serious discussion. hungry boi Todoroki Shouto. Todoroki “are you going to finish that” Shouto

and Natsu’s thinking back to what Rei said about Enji trying to face his past and his family head on

but he’s not that forgiving

OH SHIT!?!?

TOUYA. THE FINAL TODOROKI CHILD. AND JUST LIKE WE SUSPECTED, HE IS THE OLDEST

and I get the feeling that whatever happened there is the real reason why Natsu has so much rage built up toward his dad. not that the rest of it wouldn’t be more than enough to make him feel that way, mind. “mom screaming and Shouto crying” holy shit. this family has so many fucking demons

this child needs some hugs people. not from you Endeavor. but maybe Fuyu can go comfort him later. you are valid Natsu and this rage is completely justified. 100%

oh my god this scene, though

this, right here, is the difference between redemption and forgiveness. I’ve essayed about this before. but here it is, vividly on display. Endeavor is actively working toward redeeming himself now, and yet he may never actually be forgiven. he can’t change the past and he can’t erase the hurt emanating from his son. pain that he himself caused. Natsuo may never forgive him, and he’s justified in hating him

but at the same time the only thing Endeavor can do is try anyway to be a better person. he came to all of these realizations much too late, and the damage was already done. but it’s not too late to do whatever he can now. and he clearly is trying to do that

just, it’s such a sad situation, and some really poignant writing, honestly

anyway, Natsuo’s just sarcastically screaming “oh, is that so?” and then storming out and tossing a belated apology over at his sister and thanking her for the food

wonder if he’ll run into Aizawa on his way out. Aizawa will no doubt be in for another interesting conversation with Shouto on the way home. someone write this fucking fic. if they haven’t already. holy shit

now Fuyu is holding her head frustratedly and saying that she was hoping that somehow they would finally able to become a proper family after all this

hey. don’t put this all on Shouto. he has even less reason to forgive Endeavor than Natsuo does. don’t pressure him, let him sort out his own feelings goddammit

...

Todoroki Shouto are you honestly a robot though

now the TV is suddenly cutting to the news and talking about Endeavor! what a fucking coincidence!

and it’s showing all these people giving their opinions after the most recent battle

the newscaster is all, “as you can see, the voices of anxiety haven’t changed”

but! “on the other hand...”

oh my god, Endeavor’s awesome fan now has his own fans. GOOD FOR YOU, CAN’T-YA-SEE-KUN

oh my fucking god

we have reached the point of in-universe memes. this is amazing. this kid’s face is plastered all over the BnHA universe’s version of tumblr. he is the new must-use reaction image. people post their faves struggling followed by “CAN’T YA SEE?!” and they get 100,000 likes. oh my god. this is magnificent

do you all realize what this means. there are memes in the BnHA universe. that means that there is a good likelihood that a number of the U.A. kids, who as we all know have risen to quite the level of fame and prominence themselves in a very short time, have their own memes

the sports festival was broadcast on national fucking television after all. you guys. what is the likelihood that broken-arms Deku became a meme (similar to the way he is in real fucking life). or chained-to-the-podium Bakugou. Bakugou would have been the perfect reaction image for any number of “I don’t want to be here” memes. “when your girlfriend wants to introduce you to her parents but you don’t want to go.” “when you’re in the car and your friend puts on a song you hate and you can’t change it because you don’t have the aux.” “when you’re streaming something and the 30-second ad break comes on and you can’t skip it”

oh my god. Bakugou Katsuki is famous for all the wrong reasons you guys

his mom probably saved all of her favorites and spams him with them constantly

anyways. gotta refocus here lol

so the interviewed people are continuing to gush about the battle. they’re hyped not just about Endeavor, but also Hawks and CYS-kun. “everyone was like, in unison, ‘let’s cheer him on!’ it was crazy!”

so here at least is a little bit of comfort for Endeavor. maybe some broken things can’t be mended, but at least he’s finally learning what it means to be a hero! AFTER TWENTY FIVE YEARS Y’ALL. LATE BLOOMER OR WHAT

-- oh my god!?

he can’t make eye contact while saying it. but he still said it. oh my god

and yet the fact that he made a point of clarifying that he was speaking of Endeavor the hero and not Endeavor his father implies a “but” coming on

yep

what kind of dad. can you become a good dad. you’re finally starting to figure all this shit out, but now here comes the biggest challenge of all

also Shouto is so fucking pure and precious, holy shit. “I haven’t forgiven you for how you tormented mom.” not himself. his mother. he doesn’t even bring his own abuse up. even though he has every right to point out that Endeavor specifically made his life a living hell from the time his quirk developed until the time he went off to high school

and is it because forgiveness for that is not even on the table? or is it because he’s already forgiven him? or is it just that he doesn’t even want to think about it because he’s not ready yet? and I sure hope it’s not because he doesn’t realize just how bad it was, though

just, oh man. so much to unpack here as usual with this family

oh my god Shouto

ENDEAVOR YOU SON OF A BITCH YOU DON’T DESERVE THIS GENTLE, THOUGHTFUL, COMPASSIONATE ANGEL OF A SON

and it’s clear he has no idea what to say in response to that, so he’s just standing there while meanwhile Fuyu is tearing up and telling Shouto she’ll bring him some more soup

holy shit we’re getting Endeavor’s first person thoughts now oh my god

like I said, all of this was brought on by him finally achieving the thing he’d sacrificed everything to achieve, only to come to the stark realization that it wasn’t worth it. at all. so a pretty painful catalyst, all things considered, but if any asshole ever needed that kick in the pants it was this fucker right here

oh fucking shit, fuck me if I’m not getting Endeavor feels oh fuck

“for what reason”, All Might asks. and Endeavor realizes: for our children

oh fuck oh fuck

okay so while I so far have very much liked the delicate way this whole process has been handled as far as his children go, when it comes to his wife that’s a whole nother story. that’s going to be even trickier to pull off, and just. oh boy I’m nervous now

(ETA: still nervous tbh. but I guess we’ll see)

so he’s turning to leave, and Fuyu is like “DAD NOW YOU TOO??”

-- and holy shit, he’s apologizing

for everything

bastard finally got those words out. I can hardly believe it

OH DAMN

FUCK ME IF THAT ISN’T EXACTLY WHAT I’VE BEEN SAYING THIS WHOLE DAMN TIME?

holy shit. holy fucking shit this is too damn good and I love it

oh fuck and now we’re cutting back to Heights Alliance. this may just be the one and only time I’ve ever been slightly disappointed to cut back to 1-A and their antics

and we’re cutting back to Deku, who’s wiped out from the day’s training and promptly collapsing into bed upon returning to his room

HOLY SHIT WHAT THE

WHAT THE HELL KIND OF SPOOKY FUCKING DREAM IS THIS. DEKU COVERED IN SOME KIND OF MYSTERIOUS BLACK FIRE??

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

SHIMURAAAAA

HOLY SHIT, IT’S CLEARLY HER. AND DEKU HAS NEVER SEEN HER FACE BEFORE AND YET THIS IS UNMISTAKABLE

IS THIS THE PAST AVATARS SHIT AGAIN AT LONG LAST?? HOLY SHIT?

OH MY GODDDDDDD

IS THAT ALL MIGHT!?!?!?

and he’s remembering that he’s seen this before. and of course we all recall back during his fight with Shinsou when this happened and he was suddenly able to activate OFA and break Shinsou’s mind control

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

HOLY SHITTTTTT

I HAVEN’T CLICKED TO THE NEXT CHAPTER THIS FAST SINCE FUCKING DEKU VS KACCHAN PART TWO. HOLY FUCKING SHIT!!!!! I’M NOT EVEN GONNA FUCKING ANALYZE ANYTHING, FUTURE ME CAN FUCKING DO THAT. I’M JUST HYPED!! YESSSSSSSS. DEKU’S DAD VS HIS UNCLE LMAO

(ETA: well, future me isn’t going to add anything either, since this recap is long enough as it is. but this really is a great ending to an outstanding chapter you guys)

[auroraphilealis]

any book recs?

Heck yes I do!

Simon VS. The Homo Sapiens Agenda by Becky Albertalli: Even if you saw the movie already, the book is like a different storyline. They’re super close but very different and I literally can’t decide which I prefer

It by Stephen King: I’m not actually the biggest horror fan of all time but after seeing the movie, I fell in love with this idea. I’m only about half way through the novel version, but there is something insane about the way Stephen King writes. He truly understands human’s on a level not many people do, or at least understands them enough to REALLY draw out the true horror of the world. I don’t know man, it’s a good fucking book. 

Frankenstein by Mary Shelley: Actually though, i re-read this after having read it 6 years ago, and holy shit this is actually amazing. I love this novel. Frankenstein is… a fascinating story. 

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak: Seriously fucking amazing. It’s about a little girl growing up in Nazi Germany only it’s told from Death’s point of view, and I know what you’re thinking - how the fuck? But holy shit it is a fucking crazy good story, and the character of Death had me hooked on the first page

The Story of Edgar Sawtelle by David Wroblewski: One of my all time favorite books. It’s kind-of sort-of the story of Hamlet, but with a totally different modern revamp. The main character is mute, was born mute, and his closet relationship is with his dog. His mom marries his uncle after his father dies in a fire, and.. well. It’s just incredibly beautiful and amzing.

The Sword of Truth series by Terry Goodkind: Look. This is the longest book series I have ever read. I used to spend every second of every day reading these books. But if you’re a fantasy fan, and huge word counts don’t scare you, then good LORD is this the series for you. I think back on this series so fucking often, and I’ve read certain books in it like, six times each. Currently, my mom has my copies or I would be READING IT AGAIN since this series hass been on my mind alot again. Again, it’s super long. I think currently we’re on book like… 27. I googled it. holy shit it’s grown since I last picked it up. The best part about this series is 1. You can technically stop at any point because each book has a relatively good ending that will keep you satisfied (except book 1 and 2, you really have to finish 3 while youre at it). 2. They reflect the modern world so well sometimes you’re just godamn wow. Seriously. If you love fantasy, please give it a try. It’s worth it. 

The Host by Stephanie Meyer: Look, I know what you’re all going to say. Twilight was terrible, why would we read this? Listen, LISTEN I actually love The Host. It was really well done, and it definitely Stephanie Meyer’s better novel. The movie adaptation sucked ass but I actually DO still read this book over and over again. It’s a sci-fi novel about alien’s coming to Earth and taking over host bodies. They do this on lots of planets, and Earth is their newest requistion. It’s also the only planet to fight back well enough that the aliens actually think they might win. It’s not as weird as it sounds. It’s a love story, and it goes far more in depth with the meaning of life and stuff like that then Twilight could dream of, so give it a try. 

The Handmaid’s Tale by Margaret Atwood: Actually amazing. I read it for class like… idek, 5 years ago maybe? When I heard it was getting it’s own show I was like !!!! but I haven’t actually watched the show version yet, so I have no idea how it compares to the novel. The novel is fucking amazing though. Legit made me cry. However, if you have a sexual trauma or trigger, this might be a difficult read in some select parts :/ Still fucking worth it times ten. I literally bought the book when my class was over, it was so good (the teacher actually, actually handed out copies, how insane is that? She was amzing)

Beloved by Toni Morrison: FUCK SO GOOD. I’ve read it twice, both times around school, and got to write papers on it twice as well. This is… this is one hell of a book. Both times I read it, I got so much more of it than the first time. THERE IS SO MUCH TO UNPACK. It’s about a former slave whose haunted by the baby daughter she killed to prevent her children from ending up slaves as well. This was just before slavery was abolished, as well, and while her baby daughter died, her other three kids lived. However, now her home is haunted, and the baby ACTUALLY comes back. It’s crazy and amazing and one of my favorite novels of all time. I can’t pick favorites guys, okay, but I love this one so fucking much. 

Pellinor Series by Alison Croggon: Listen. Listen. I read this book when I was in high school immediately after I hurt my back so bad I was stuck in bed for a week, and literally continue to have issues with too this day. I CANNOT TELL YOU what the fucking plot was, and apparently there are 2 more books in the series that I didn’t know about, BUT I LOVED AND ADORED THIS BOOK OKAY IT WAS A WONDERFUL FANTASY NOVEL AND IT HAS A FEMALE LEAD ALRIGHT ITS GREAT JUST TAKE MY WORD FOR IT AND READ IT

Uglies Series by Scott Westserfeld: I remember finally getting my hands on this series and reading it in like, two days. Idk. It was great. If you can’t tell, I love fantasy and sci-fi and horror, which all mesh together horribly and you can never tell them apart. This isn’t horror though, just the other two. It’s about a world where when people turn a certain age, they get to become a “pretty’ which means to have surgery done to make them look perfect - only the reason for this is to dumb down society. Read it. I love it. 

Vampire Academy by Richelle Mead: I love vampire novels. If you couldn’t tell, this is a vampire novel. It’s one of my preferred series though, I think Mead did an amazing job crafting the world she crafts. Vampires aren’t under wraps, nor are they inherently evil, but they do work in a really weird system where you have the Special vampires who the other vampires protect, and then like the bodyguard vampires. I can’t fully remember, it’s been a long time. But regardless, I remember this being one of the few novel series that made me cry, and I still love it to this day. 

Harry Potter by JK Rowling: I thought this was such a give in that I didn’t put it on the list until now but actually like. Super good. I grew up in this series and sometimes I talk about it and remember I’m 24 cause some people I know have never read it and IT WAS LITERALLY MY CHILDHOOD. Still think it’s worth it, even as I poke more and more holes in the story, because the older you get, the more you start to recognize problematic things. Clearly, Harry Potter was meant for children, not an adult who wants to critize everything. GOOD READ THOUGH

Fangirl by Rainbow Rowell: I grew up the girl writing fanfiction hid away in the back of the class because I didn’t want anyone to know. I look up to the people older than me at the time who developed and crafted the world we live in now, where Fanfiction is almost acceptable. Reading this novel... brought me right back to the Harry Potter days when the fandom was sitll new, underground, and ao3 didn’t exist. Honestly... it’s a really good book, and really hits home for people like me who write fanfiction and want nothing more than to write novels one day. 

Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin: But actually the books are really good. I fucking adore the show and that’s what got me into the books, but the books are HELLA good. Weirdly, Daenery’s Targaryen is not the most well written character ever, and I blame it on Martin being a guy, becasue sometimes I actually hate her in the novels (seriously, he makes her sound... like a child, which I guess she kind of is) BUT one of my favorite things in the novel is that her husband Khal Drogo does not sexually assault her in the novels. He’s super sweet and good to her, and honestly just. Yep. Yeah. Good series.

What Happened to Lani Garver by Carol Plum Ucci: The most heartwrenching book of all time. I can’t tell you how long I cried over this book. I’m literally getting tearful as I think about it. It is... fucking BEAUTIFUL. I want to read it right this fucking second. It’s about a girl who was in remission from cancer, but who joins the cheerleading team. Only, shes technically too tall to be a cheerleader, so she gets an ED which actually puts her at risk for remission. She meets Lani Garver - the literal emodiment of a nonbinary person before that term every existed. Lani Garver is... a fucking angel. An actual angel okay. They help the main character through so much, specifically bullying, and Lani taught ME so much when I read it. The author refers to Lani as he, but remember that it was written before nonbinary was an accepted (possible even before it was a fully labeled) thing, but the book is SO worth reading. I. I’m going to go read it again. 

Streams of Babel and it’s sequel The Fire Will Fall by Carol Plum Ucci: I originally read the second novel first on accident, which just goes to show you how good an author Ucci is becasue I didn’t even NOTICE until I got to the end and saw there was a first novel, oops. But, its a take on the lives of 4 kids in a situation of chemical warfare, and what happens to them when they get poisoned by the water. I think one of the kids is a fucking comptuer genius. Idk, I can’t fully remember, but it is one of my favorite novels, so check them out. 

I’m like 100% that there’s more I could list but those are the ones I could currently recall BECAUSE THIS IS A MONUMENTAL TASK AND I LOVE BOOKS

[comprosedreviews-blog]

A Court of Wings and Ruin (finally) with Monica

Rating: 4/5 (goodreads) 

With a great (new) laptop, comes great responsibility. 

And no one knows that better than me. At least after the seven hour, where-did-all-my-files-go-and-why-didn’t-they-transfer-correctly debacle. 

SO while I had an almost full review finished for this book, it has gone MIA. Go. Figure. 

But that’s Karma’s way of getting back at me for not publishing this a few months ago, you know, when I actually finished reading the book. 

But y’all didn’t come here to listen to me complain, you came for a book review, so without further RAWRS and GRRs, here’s the review:

You should read the book.

Yes I know, you’re probably sitting there glued to your screens, mouth agape because somehow, after loving the first two books of this beloved series I also managed to love and recommend the third. GOOD GRACIOUS MONICA!!! YOU’RE CRAZY!!!

In all seriousness, the book did fall a little bit behind the first and second in the list of favorites for me, but still managed to keep me coming back for more page turns and laughter and fear. 

Before writing any further, I want to warn those of you who stumbled upon this review thinking that ACOWAR was the first in a series from reading the rest of this post. You see, young ones, if you continue to read you will be spoiled for the first two books... because well, this is the third and final in its little trilogy. 

So turn away, avert your eyes, and direct your feet to the nearest Barnes & Nobles (or wherever you satisfy your book reading needs) and purchase A Court of Thorns and Roses. You won’t be sorry. 

THE BRIEF NON-SPOILERY: I can confirm that there are areas of overwriting in this finale. In fact, much of the beginning dragged on or felt unnecessary, to the point where 100 pages or so in, I finally felt like we began the story. The beginning is important for foundational stuff about new characters, old characters and new threat lines, however. It probably could have just been done with far fewer words and scenes. 

I also think that there are several areas that just lagged. I could easily put the book down in those moments and do something else... which for me isn’t a great reading experience. And before you wave your fists and say BUT MONICA, books can’t be all power and action and romance all the time, know that I understand that. I mean, I read a lot and love books a lot, but this was an excessive amount of hmmmmmmm don’t need to be reading this right now. I want to be fully pulled in, I want something to make me think I CAN PUSH THROUGH THIS SECTION TO FIND X OUT... but there were whole chapters where I was like... whelp. Nothing interesting happened. 

THAT BEING SAID, other moments in the book were done spectacularly and kept me immersed in the world even when I had to put the book down. I was like... No. Nope. Okay Mr. Reporting-Professor, you can talk all you want about the inverted pyramid, but understand that all I’m hearing is fanfic poetry about the love between Rhysand and Feyre. 

You get all the characters you love back and all the resolutions you could ask for, which is why lovers of the series must finish it. Don’t let yourself feel the unresolved feeling of ending on ACOMAF (because we all know that ending left us SHOOK). 

That’s all I can offer for you folks out there who haven’t finished ACOWAR. I hope these words of wisdom have helped you settle on the right decision of reading the book for yourself. If it didn’t, well, sorry. I’m a mere hufflepuff.

 WARNING!! SPOILERS!!! AHEAD!!!

You know, I really enjoyed this book, I swear I did, but as I’m thinking back on it, the things I remember best are the things that annoyed me. Like the father’s convenient return right as the battle was being lost, the constant magic draining, the convenient return of Rhysands angel looking friends, and all the character death bluffs. So for the interest of ending this review on a positive note (because, wtf my brain, we love this book??) I’m going to talk about these things and then swing into the good. 

1. WHATS WITH ALL THE CONVENIENCE? 

Did we just get written into too tough of a plot to get out of? No, I don’t think we did. Why? Because Sarah J. Mass is brilliant. I’m sorry, but did you see all the foreshadowing with the mirror? Or the awesome trials in the first book? Or the link between the stars of Feyre’s drawer and Rhysand??? This girl can write the tough writes. 

But this ending was riddled with oddly convenient and seemingly unnecessary helps. The island with the Seraphine and the wards that worked a little too well... like why didn’t Rhysand and friends check super hard? Why didn’t they shout a bunch. WHY DIDNT THEY REALIZE, oh yeah, we protect our sacred city with a bunch of wards too... Why didn’t the angel beings think to look outside of their wards ever? And how come they were able to get notice of the battle at all? Like... HMM, yeah we couldn’t really reach you BUTTTTTTTTT now we’re here because we found out about it?? No. I need a better explanation. 

And maybe there is one to come. Maybe the second series will shine some light on the topic, but if that’s the case then writing that entrance for these guys was a super risky move because--I’m just going to say it--it came across as a Deux ex machina (which are endings I frankly hate). 

GAHHHH and the whole book we were like

Reader: Oh no!!!!! Azriel is going to die! His wings are shredding, he went on a kill mission, he’s the misplaced love angle...I knew he shouldn’t have gone with them! I knew it!!! I knew it!! This is Sarah offing him isn’t it--

Feyre: actually we got him back in time so it’s all peas and--

Reader: OMG YOU ONLY GOT HIM TO SURVIVE BECAUSE TAMLIN IS DEAD NOW AND HE HAS SACRIFICED HIMSELF JUST AS HE REDEEMED WHATEVER TERRIBLE DARKNESS HE WAS BATHED IN AS A SMA--

Tamlin: Actually, no. No. I come back in the end. They kept me alive. I’m good. 

Reader: HOLY MUFFIN GUACAMOLE YOU DISTRACTED ME SO THAT I WOULDN’T SEE CASSI--oh actually cass is fine wow. Good job Ness--OMG NESSA AND CASSIAN ARE GOING TO DIE AHHHHH

Elain: NOT. In. My. House!

Reader: Oh dang. Nice slashy slash. Wait so everyone-- OMG ARMEN NOOOOOOOO

Ocean: psht. She’s fine. I’ll spit her out as a high fey, no worries

Reader: Oh. Oh. Okay, wow. That’s um, good then? 

Cauldron: *Gargles*

Reader: *Sobbing hysterically* RHYSAND!!!!!!!!! Actually, he’ll be fine too probably... yep. Okay. 

It got to the point where I was like, well there’s no real need to worry because any character I actually give an emotional teardrop about is protected by all the force of the pen forever. So. Yeah. 

I mean, I’m not complaining that all my characters made it out unscathed, just that they made it out and each and every one of them had their life thissssssss close to being torn away... and somehow I’m still expected to buy Rhysand’s near death at the end as our final hurdle to overcome. Which. I didn’t.

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THE BAD, let’s talk about the good. 

The very beginning had me so upset. But in a good way. When it wasn’t going on too long we got to see a darker side of Feyre, the side that decided to kill a fairy for revenge, the side that isn’t afraid to ruin lives if it means saving the people she cares about. 

AND I HAVE TO SAY I HATED IT AND LOVED THAT I HATED IT. 

Like, I do not like Tamlin. I will never like Tamlin, there is no redeeming Tamlin. But, still, as Feyre began to turn his armies against him and used Lucien (who I do like!) to tear a rift in the spring court I felt the feels. Like... no. This isn’t how we do things. 

But. It. Is. 

Feyre don’t mess around. 

When the bond between Rhysand and Feyre started to go quiet I was SOOOOO worried that Tamlin had secretly discovered a way to shut it down and was working with Ianthe that I just... I was like STOP WORRYING ABOUT DESTROYING SPRING AND START FOCUSSING ON THIS CLEARLY WRONG THING!!!!! But it wasn’t that. 

No. No, it was her magic, being drained from her. 

And for someone with SO MUCH MAGIC in the book before, I was so taken aback by how many times her powers were literally drained from her. 

Was anyone else impatiently waiting for more Feysand? Because I was. I wanted it sooooo badly. Maybe that’s the real reason everything dragged. Maybe I just needed them to be together again, especially because she was now lady of the night court and I wanted to see some night court shenanigans with the gang. 

Good times. That would have been good times. 

But I had to wait. And when we did get there

STUFF//WAS//FALLING//APART

I’m sorry, what do you mean Elain is miserable???? And mad???

I’m sorry, what do you mean Lucien is coming with??? (because I might like him but yeesh, I was annoyed with his “how could you betray me” thing). 

I’m sorry, what do you mean IN GENERAL????

Can’t we just like... Idk, ignore our wounds from the other book? CASS got to! His wings grew back//were healed. We should all be like Cass!

For real though, when everyone was talking about how Elain had gone crazy I was sitting here thinking... *raises hands* um maybe she’s like... seeing the future? Did we think about that guys?? But nooooooo. Everyone was all pity filled and I was all :(((((((((((

My greatest regret is we never got the resolution of Cass and Nessa. I want them together and I want it yesterday!

I felt like we were there. We were so close. They almost died together and Cass and Nessa BASICALLY SAID THEY LOVED EACH OTHER and then...

poof. Same old same old rawr. 

And then are Elain and Azriel going to be a thing??? I don’t know if I want that or don’t want that???? Are Lucien and bird princess going to be a thing???? Who is a thing, who isn’t a thing, why???????

Like, last book I was here for Lucien and Elain. I mean I figured they’d have to like, get to know each other, fall in love, etc. but I’m a sucker for a falling in love story// enemies to lovers sub-arch. 

Nope. Nope. Nope. 

Now I can’t even bring myself to root for that. They are just wrong for each other. And I don’t like it. I don’t like that our thing that set up our two main characters can be so imperfect. Rawr, I just want resolution!!!!!!

And did everyone catch that Lucien isn’t related to the monster that was previously believed to be his father??? WHO’S GOING TO EXPLAIN TO DADDY HELION THAT HE IS A FATHER???? WHY DIDN’T THAT HAPPEN IN THIS BOOK???

I’m sorry but all signs for me point to the next series following Elain, Lucien, and Bird princess lady// whatever horrible deal she made to be able to come and fight. I’m not against that. I do want to know more about why the cauldron gave Elain so much power, and how her ex-fiance is feeling now, and how her prophesies/// Azriel thing/// Lucien thing is going to pan out !!!BUT!!!! But here I am wanting to know what happened to giant nightmare cloud, wanting to see baby Feysand, wanting to have Mor find love, wanting to know more about Nessa’s link with the cauldron...

ARE WE SURROUNDED BY I NEED TO KNOWS RIGHT NOW OR WHAT???

*sigh* when is Sarah going to release the next series beginner? I need it. Otherwise, I might combust. And I need these answers. Not in this order but... like in the next book please?? Please???? PLEASE????

So this review turned more into a mindless ramble of happenings and wants than anything else. If you feel I left things out (which I most certainly did thanks to writing this months and months after reading smh) please comment below! I’d love to hear what Y’all think// what y’all want from the next book. 

And gosh if you read this far, you’re a saint. 

Until next post,

Monica

[silkygoldmilkweed]

Wine, Inhibitions, drunky Lannisters, Sansa Stark and the Hound

So. I continue to convince myself firmly that alcohol, particularly red wine, is crucial to understanding WTF is the deal with Sansa and Sandor in King’s Landing.

I’ll go over some details herein, but suffice it to say, I think that one or, “worse,” both of them being wine-drunk does what it does with all horny drunk kids everywhere throughout history: disinhibits behavior. (I believe that Sansa’s “outreach” is also amplified by fear and in her dreams when she’s unconscious--unconscious is really Bran is showing us when his eyes go white--but let’s focus on wine herein.) In the specific circumstance of Sansa and Sandor in King’s Landing, with the added aspect of Sansa’s First Men blood and her constantly agitated fight-or-flight response and both of their drinking (him heavily and her infrequently but enough to have an effect), her ad hoc skinchanger connection to the Hound, Sandor Clegane, is strongly amplified.

Very very few skinchangers can do humans, and from what we know it takes tremendous natural talent or great practice or both. Sansa must have some of the first, because she has none of the second. I think the reason Sandor’s consciousness doesn’t outright reject her or go instantly mad or just die, is because (a) he wants/likes/loves her duh (b) his consciousness is that of a fully formed powerful adult male, whereas hers is a confused but also ultimately very good, very kind and very gentle young girl. His consciousness doesn’t perceive it as an attack, as such. I imagine that your mental-emotional soul in this world might be not unlike an immune system: it’s highly evolved to distinguish between like and unlike, friend and stranger. For whatever reason, presumably that the big Hound has unwholesome feelings for the pretty little dire wolf, Sandor’s consciousness does not attack Sansa’s as an invading pathogen, but rather allows her to colonize his mind rather elaborately. She’s a virus, but the genetic material she’s transmitting into his cells is a beneficial mutation. And I suspect that it might be a two-way exchange, but TBD.

ANYWAY WINE:

“Is Joffrey going to kill Sansa’s brother?” “He might.” 

In ep 2x03 “What Is Dead Can Never Die,” Sansa drinks her way through dinner with Cersei and the kids because it’s all lies and next-level imprisonment and abuse etc. She’s wearing a blue dress with a dragonfly necklace.

Awful deleted #SanSan scene? Same dress. She’s crying, just as she should be after Cersei said Joff was going to kill Robb and Sansa would “do her duty.”

She was just thinking about how she’s going to have to fuck Joff. And well, well, well, look who manifests in her hallway: the Hound, and his number one concern? How Joffrey “will be having you soon” and just for good measure, this is where they were going to emphasize that he’s a dog (DOGS ARE THE EASIEST ANIMALS TO WARG, GUYS) and the reason he calls her Little Bird is...because she’s trapped in a cage? IDK IDK they didn’t do so good with the name explanation, but whatever, we know it’s, above all, because he loves her and because she’s his bird.

SUFFICE IT TO SAY, I think he shows up here with the particular concern about Joff’s forthcoming rape of Sansa, because she was drunk and he probably was too, and everything she was afraid of when drunk went straight into his mind. 

The barrier is thin between them to start with, but when she’s drunk she doesn’t withhold and she sends him everything she is feeling. He probably drinks extra when she’s “transmitting” to him, just to try to get the extra voice out of his head. I mean, that sounds like a reasonable plan for self-medication if you ask me.

Their next three interactions are all mostly sober (throne room cloaking, bread riots, “dog doesn’t need courage to chase off rats,”) but I will repeat that the music that plays during the rape rescue sequence in the tunnel is the same music that plays in season one when unconscious Bran is attacked by the cutthroat and Summer appears from nowhere to kill him and save Cat. I think, yes, the Hound’s a basically good guy who cares about her wants to save her, but also she’s screaming in fear in his head and he knows exactly what’s happening and saving her is going to help him as much as her because if he doesn’t stop it, he’ll experience all of her suffering in his head anyway.

“Well done, Clegane.” “I didn’t do it for you.”

And then after that, she dreams of the Bread Riot attack the night before she gets her first period, and lo and behold, who shows up? Sandor Clegane, who is either there on behalf of Cersei, or was summoned to Sansa’s chamber by the overwhelming feeling that she was mortal peril, because when she’s unconscious she can’t even begin to control broadcasting her fears and he has the only satellite receiver tuned to the Sansa Channel.

Which brings us to “Blackwater,” and Cersei’s drunk ass pouring cup after cup after cup of red wine for Sansa, who has no tolerance for alcohol whatsoever, while scaring the shit out of her about the outcome of the war, rape generally and the horrifying truth about her forthcoming marriage to Joffrey in particular.

Sandor begins the night of the battle already sauced. “Oh, there’s women in the ground. Put some there myself.” I’ve never understood this scene and it’s always bothered me as “off” in some way that I can’t put my finger on, but one interpretation is that they are illustrating the transition between Sandor early in the battle, who gives zero fucks about anyone, women and children included, to Sandor after a long of night of fire, drinking, killing, and above all, feeling a little girl’s fears about everything, transitioning to being like “Hey you wanna get out of here? We could go somewhere quiet, maybe have a coffee or something?”

Look, enter “the King,” a cunt who names his sword, and the Warrior personified, who ends the night covered in blood because he’s single-handedly fighting Joff’s war for him. Sansa knows what’s up. 

ANYWAY, this whole scene is a riot. We see Joff for the sniveling empty talker that he is, and Sansa is at her very sassiest. She’s starts out pretty strong and so does Sandor. 

But anyway, I think the whole point of this scene in the throne room and the Hound’s presence therein is so we compare the Hound and Joffrey side-by-side, again. Because why? Because it’s love triangle ripped right out of the pages of the most romantic/tragic love story in Westerosi history: the legend of Queen Naerys, her horrible brother-husband King Aegon the Unworthy and her other brother, the great and honorable and self-sacrificing Aemon the Dragonknight. See also Gwenivere, Arthur and Lancelot, but eh. 

“Your king rides forth to battle.” LOL. I bet Sandor was dying inside.

DRINK 1 feat. SER ILYN, who executed Ned Stark and has frightened Sansa from the first. What’s he doing here? “He’s here to defend us...guards we pay. Should the city fall, they’ll be the first ones out of the doors.” Sansa’s internally monologue would be: Gosh I sure which I had someone on my side who’s even stronger than Ser Ilyn and would fight for me without being paid. Or maybe it would be I wonder if paid guard Sandor Clegane would leave King’s Landing if the city fell. Maybe I could leave too? (I know we have Sansa’s inner monologue of this scene in the books, but books and show are different beasts.)

“Here. Sit. Drink...no, not like that. Drink girl.”

DRINK 2 feat. “Tears aren’t a woman’s only weapon. The best one’s between your legs. Learn to use it. Drink...if the city falls, these fine women should be in for a bit of a rape. Half of them will have bastards in their bellies come the morning.”

She’s just plain frightened.

And then the line that I think is the direct reason she refuses Sandor’s offer of rescue in favor of waiting for Stannis. “When a man’s blood is up, anything with tits looks good. A precious thing like you will look very, very good. A slice of cake just waiting to be eaten.” (Well, this and Shae literally saying, “Stannis won’t hurt you.”)

Meanwhile, the Hound is out at the war, cutting people in two (literally) and generally fighting like the beast that he is and then shortly thereafter having a total nervous breakdown because (a) fire, (b) Sansa’s fucking his head.

What’s the cure? "Fuck the water, bring me wine.” Wine, I think, just serves to make him even more emo and less able to deny his feelings for Sansa and their inexplicable connection.

“Dog, I command you to go out there and fight!” Sandor, totally defeated already, would be having this sort of internal monologue: “But why? So you can stay king and start raping my soulmate, your prisoner whose father you already killed for no reason? 

“Fuck the Kingsguard.” (they’re mean to Sansa)

“Fuck the city.” (the people of this city were mean to Sansa)

“Fuck the King.” (mean to Sansa and not good enough for her anyway)

This part, where she stands a little taller and says, “You won’t hurt me.” She is 100 percent inside his head at that moment, reading his feelings as easily you read these words right here.

BUT WAIT, there’s more. I think this scene is a little bit about the writers, at least, tipping that there’s something we need to know about Sansa and alcohol, and maybe skinchanging or enchanting men, too? Maybe she’s even starting to intuit that inebriated men are even more susceptible to her than usual? 

“Ale?” “I’ll have some.” “Do you like the taste?” “I don’t see what all the fuss is about. Why do men love it so much?” “It gives some men courage.” “Does it give you courage?” (5x02, “The House of Black and White”)

And then here. She’s drinking and he’s drinking AND there’s the touching. She convinces him to fight for Winterfell. He does not want to, but she convinces him. I’m not saying that this is magic because the dire wolf and wolf-dragon connection is very likely just normal human kinship, but it might be, at least in part. 

IN CONCLUSION, IF SANSA AND SANDOR ARE NEAR EACH OTHER AND DRINKING IN SEASON 8, WATCH OUT.

[engagedtobefree]

A Change of Heart

Monday - In the morning I am at the coffee machine when Scott comes in. He must have thought I wasn’t waiting for him since I wasn’t at the printer. When he rounds the corner and sees me, he exclaims, “Dana!!”. I never knew how to take this the few other times he’s said my name like this, since he says it in a way that friends would, but now it makes me feel all warm inside as I understand now that he’s excited to see me. One day last week I was making tea while Scott happened to be in the bathroom (I did hear someone walk by but I didn’t know who it was). When he had come out of the bathroom and saw me standing there, he couldn’t help but break into a smile. I truly wonder how exactly seeing me makes him happy like that. I know why seeing him makes me happy, and I wonder if it’s for the same reasons on his end.

It’s trainee week and I nicked us each a cookie upstairs before they’re all gone. When I go into Scott’s office to give it to him, he looks down at the cookie than up at me and says, “You’re so thoughtful.” I feel I ruin it by saying, “I guess” and then add on “You’re the only person I get stuff for.” “Well I appreciate it.” I can feel my heart pulsing with happiness. He gave me a compliment, but not on my appearance, and I appreciate that he appreciates me. I realize later in the week that probably all of my compliments/flirting have been geared toward appearance, and I make a mental note to tell Scott something I like about him non-appearance related first chance I get. When my lunch is over and I get up out of the seat, I go to adjust my pants and my shirt pops up a little above my right hip, showing some skin. I see Scott look there for half a second, and then he looks away with a look of guilt on his face. I know it’s just a small patch of skin and that it’s not even a sexual part of my body, but I know how there have been times where I’ve new parts of Scott (ie. chest hair, arms not covered by long sleeves) and it’s been enough for me to swoon over. Idk why the guilty face though. I wonder if it’s that conflicted part of him since he’s married, or maybe he was just embarrassed that I caught him looking.

At the end of the day, I talk to Scott in his doorway. We somehow get on the topic of my asthma and he asks me what it’s like. I don’t really know what to tell him except that it’s just not being able to breathe, and that the more you try to breathe the worse it seems to get. I haven’t had an attack in years, and I think I have most likely outgrown it, which can happen. He mentions how he remembers going to school with a kid who had asthma and he was always taking his inhaler. I tell him that that was me. I was the nerdy kid who had an inhaler, braces, glasses, and big frizzy hair. He laughs and then continues to smile at me. But for real, my transformations over my elementary school days are incredible. In some photos, mainly middle school, you can’t even tell it’s me. Well, at least that’s what I think, or maybe I’m just hoping that’s the case lol.

Something I didn’t write in last week’s post that I wanted to was how I always somehow know when Scott is around. So Friday I was sitting and working at my desk when I heard someone shuffling through papers next to the printer. This happens about 100 times a day, so it’s something I pay no attention to, but without even thinking I turn around and look. It’s Scott. I turn back to my computer, but then a few seconds later he is in my doorway saying “Hey, Dane.” I spin around. He asks me about an order and I joke with him and then he goes back to his office. A few minutes later I hear someone shuffling papers again, and again, for no reason, I turn and look. Scott is looking down at a paper, but this time he’s facing my cubicle. He looks up at me, gives me a little smile while he nods his head up and says, “Got it”. I give him a little smile back. He must have been waiting for a fax, but I hadn’t heard anything go through in those few minutes, but I either tuned the beeping out or he didn’t see it in the pile the first time.

Tuesday - While I’m talking to Scott during my lunch, somehow the mention of  birthdays comes up, so I take this opportune moment to ask him when his birthday is. He hesitates before answering, and when he does answer, I can hear the apprehension in his voice. I find this odd, but don’t show any signs that I noticed anything. His birthday is January 15th. I tell him my birthday is October 15th and how it’s funny they’re on the same day (not exact same day, but he knew what I meant). The bit of anxiety that I picked up on disappears after I say this. I think he was afraid of something, but in the moment I can’t imagine what it could possibly be. I wonder later in the day what interactions we had on his birthday since it was on a Monday, so I go on my tumblr to see. As soon as I see it, I don’t even have to read to know what happened that day. I have not forgotten that day, and had I not been on Cloud 9 of finally knowing his birthday, I would have immediately realized the significance of that day. It was Martin Luther King Jr Day and also the day my guinea pig, Max, passed away. I spent the whole morning at my desk, worrying about leaving Max at home. Then I went home during my lunch, saw him bleeding, and took him to the vet. I had gone back to work after the vet told me he would most likely be okay. I vaguely remember waving to Scott as he sat in his car during his lunch as I practically ran inside, trying to hide the fact I had spent the past hour crying. I was at work another hour before getting the phone call that Max had passed away, and then I left work for the rest of the day. I spent a majority of Scott’s birthday in tears. I am crying even as I write this. I have not fully dealt with Max’s death yet, hence why I have not written the 2nd post about him that I wanted to write. I still want to and am going to write it, but it’s so hard. I still miss the little guy so much. I went back to work the next day and I remember telling Scott about how Max died the day before. I don’t know if Scott remembers that, as I feel he would have been more inclined to since Max’s death happened on his birthday, but I think that Scott didn’t really take in too much about me during our early stages, so I can;t be sure if he remembers this. I think that that is one possibility though as to why he was apprehensive about telling me his birthday, because he thought I might realize the significance of the date. Another reason I came up with was that maybe he was nervous I was going to ask him the year he was born, but I already know how old he is thanks to White Pages, and I mean, even before that I already knew he was much older than me. These are the only 2 reasons I could come up with, but it could still be something else I haven’t thought of. (Fun Fact: If you add up the single digits of our ages, you get the same number. So he’s 44 and 4 + 4 = 8. I’m 26 and 2 + 6 = 8. I have way too much time on my hands). At one point during our conversation during this lunch, I say something, though I can’t remember what, but Scott gives me such a tender look after that melts my heart.

Wednesday - Joyce and I go to talk to our big boss Angelo in the morning about our concerns about moving to the second floor. He hears us out and then says he’s meeting with his boss later, so he will bring everything to his attention then. I stay behind to ask Angelo how my hiring process is going. He says the HR woman is on vacation this week but that he talked to her last week and she’s almost done all of my paperwork, so we should hear something by the end of next week. I am so excited that any day now I will be a permanent employee.

When I turn to look at Scott as I wait by the printer, I am in awe. He’s been wearing company shirts lately since they’re all short-sleeve, and he has on the one that I like best on him. It’s a medium gray with some light blue accents in it, and it fits him really well. I immediately think of how nice he looks but because our greeting always happens so fast and he walks in his office, I don’t get get to tell him this.

After I finish my lunch, I go into Scott’s doorway and ask him if he wants a cannoli or fruit or anything. He says “no thanks” and I linger for a few seconds longer in the doorway, beaming at him. He breaks into a smile and I think about how handsome he is before walking away. When I come back downstairs I go into his doorway again. “You look nice today.” He responds with a modest “Thank you.” “You always look nice though.” He thanks me again. I go in and sit in the chair next to his desk like I always do now and talk to him for the rest of my lunch. I also tell him “Oh, I saw something yesterday and thought of you.” I word it specifically in this way for obvious reasons. It was only something I saw about apple cider vinegar helping with acid reflux, which he has, but I thought if he wanted to try it to see if it helped he had this information now to do so. I also tell him how I met with Angelo this morning with Joyce and also how I will be hired any day now. He’s always genuinely happy for me. He has become the first person I always want to tell anything to, whether good or bad. I’ve somehow been building trust with Scott without even realizing it.

I had wanted to grab some fruit upstairs, but some of the trainee guys were still in there. I don’t mind grabbing the cookies and whatnot cuz it takes me and extra 3 seconds, but piling fruit on a plate takes longer, and I don’t want to stay in there longer than necessary because I get uncomfortable (more about this on Thursday). So I decide to go up and grab some about 10 minutes after my lunch, and when I go up, Scott is in there heating his food. He’s looking at me and he asks if I ate yet. He already knows I finished my lunch, but I think maybe he was just being hopeful about it and that he could talk to me a bit more. I tell him I ate already and that I was just grabbing some fruit since I didn’t earlier. I wish I could talk to him more than we do, but it’s hard to at work. If I could switch my lunch without it being obvious that I was doing it so that I could spend it with Scott, I would. I remember back toward the beginning of all this with Scott I said he seems like someone I could just talk with for hours over coffee, and I was right. I feel like I could talk to him all day and never be bored.

While Scott is still on lunch, at one point I look at a sticky trap on the ground at one end of my cubicle, which required me rolling over to where my cubicle entrance is. We have these traps for bugs, and there have been those little red spider mites infesting our windows and I see at least one daily on my desk. I’m doubtful as to whether any mites have actually gotten trapped (none have), and as I’m investigating inside the trap, Scott walks by. He tells me how our back door isn’t working and won’t let anyone inside, so he was told to put a sign there. I roll over to the other end of my doorway and get as close to him as I can. I look up at his smiling face and I want nothing more than to be as close as possible to this man.

I take an order out to the warehouse while Scott is out there. I pass by him and we lock eyes and greet each other, smirking. As I’m heading back, Scott is not too far ahead of me. I already walk faster than him, but I quicken my pace to catch up. As he crosses over the one walkway, I am just about to say, “Scott, wait up!” when he stops and waits for me on the other side, so I don’t have to say anything. We walk back in to the offices together. I do most of the talking, but it’s fine. I’m just happy he stopped on his own to wait for me.

Angelo comes over in the late afternoon and tells Joyce and I that we will be staying where we are, and that if we did have to move, things would just have to rearranged on the first floor in order for us to stay down there. We are ecstatic. I had a really good feeling things were going to pull off for us in some way, and I was not disappointed. I thought at the least Angelo would tell us we’d still be moving but would just stay on the first floor somewhere; I never imagined we would be told we could stay where we are though. I don’t immediately go tell Scott, but I don’t wait too long, half an hour maybe. I go to heat up my tea so I can walk by his office and possibly tell him. I am glowing inside and I decide that I really want him to look at me this time, since he doesn’t always turn to look at me when I walk by. I don’t know if it’s just a coincidence, or if he sensed me coming (my light/good vibes), or if me deciding he was going to turn to look at me had anything to do with it, but Scott does actually turn to look at me. He’s glowing just as much as I imagine I am. He turns back to his computer after a few seconds, but instead of walking by, I stop in the doorway. “We’re not moving, we get to stay where we are.” Me, him, and Steve chat for a few minutes, and Scott is still beaming at me. I say, “I got 2 out of 2 today.” “So you’re having a good day, huh?” “Yeah, I am.” Again, he is so genuinely happy for me. It fills me up with even more joy.

Thursday - Scott comes in in the morning while I’m at the coffee machine. A guy, Tom, is at the printer, so when Scott rounds the corner, he doesn’t have his face set into a small smile like he normally does when I’m there. However, when he rounds the corner, he breaks into a grin when he sees me there waiting to greet him. I think I actually like this better than the printer sometimes because 1. He’s always pleasantly surprised to see me there and 2. It’s easier for us to make eye contact since I don’t have to turn around and can already be facing his direction.

During lunch he tells me I look nice. I can feel myself glowing. We have the trainees here this week, and I mention how I hate going upstairs when they’re here because someone always has to make a comment at me. I have never divulged this information to anyone, and my only guess as to why I said this to Scott was because I feel so safe with him. “Like what?”, he responds. “Oh, idk, they just say weird things to me for no reason.” “What do they say to you?”. He seems very put-off by this information, not in a jealous way, but in a protective sort of way. He’s concerned for sure. “Well, they just say stupid and weird things. I don’t really remember any because I ignore them. Today when I went up to put my lunch bag back in the fridge, a guy said to me ‘What did you bring us to eat?’. I just walked away.” I did just walk away, but I forgot I also said, “Nothing, you have food.” There’s no need to comment to me. “They always have to say something, but it’s always something dumb. I guess they’re just trying to be...” “Funny?” “Yeah.” One side of Scott’s mouth lifts up into an unconvincing half-smile. I think he can probably tell this makes me uncomfortable. For the most part, the trainees are okay. Most of them give me a friendly “hello”, which is totally okay and there’s nothing wrong with that. Sometimes, while they are waiting in line for their food, I will sense and/or see one or two watching me, but that is also fine. It’s when I walk in and I can very much feel a man’s eyes penetrating me, and then he just has to say something to me, like he needs my attention, I get this weird uncomfortable feeling. I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t know if most men have ever felt this way at all, but I’m sure any woman would understand what I mean. It was Tuesday or Wednesday I was coming down the stairs, and though I am small-chested, my breasts still very much bounce. When I lifted my head, there was a guy in the entrance hall and he was very noticeably looking at my breasts. While I didn’t like it, he at least didn’t say anything to me. I know men look. However, I thought back to the day Scott had his glasses on, when he was talking to the receptionist and how when I came down the stairs and looked up, he was looking at my face. Whether he looked at my boobs, I don’t know, but even if he did, he didn’t keep looking. I’m not just viewed sexually by him.

Some time during or after Scott’s lunch, he makes some tea. I had just made some coffee a few minutes prior. I go right up next to him and he turns to face his whole body toward me, and I tell him I need a coffee stirrer. I am standing literally an inch away from him, and I feel such a strong pull to just step forward and press myself against him. Scott is smiling and his face is so close to mine. He didn’t move over as I came walking up next to him. I go over to the printer to retrieve a random email I printed merely for the sake of having a reason to get up to talk to Scott before I decided on the idea to grab a coffee stirrer. I didn’t need the coffee stirrer just like I didn’t need to print anything. I see Scott is holding an apple and we get on the topic of organic fruit.

At the end of the day, I walk past Scott’s office to the recycling bin and he is getting ready to leave, a.k.a. actually leaving on time. He asks me if I heard that the people who were supposed to be coming to our company may not even be coming now. So pretty much my whole worry about having to move may have been for nothing. Cool. I go to log off my computer and grab my stuff, taking my time. I wonder if I should go back to Scott’s office or walk out, but since he seemed to be further along in the getting-ready-lo-leave process, I figure I’ll just slowly walk out. Then I slowly put my things in my car. It’s been roughly 3 minutes. Okay... I start to hope he wasn’t waiting for me, because now I feel like a dick. I am still over on the passenger side of my car, so lean over and act like I’m doing something in my bag, and when I see the door start to open, I stand up and act like I’m on my phone. I look up at Scott and he stops for a split second and then slowly continues to his car. He’s got that mischievous, sly smile on his face, which I return right back to him.

Friday - Scott is leaving early today for a follow-up on his eyes. Normally I wait until like 12:25ish to go see him, but today I go about 10 minutes earlier since I haven’t talked to him all day yet. As I’m making my way down the hall toward his door, I can see he’s eating and that he might not see me coming, but I also don’t want to disturb his lunch unless he invites me in, so I shuffle my feet a bit as I walk so he hears me. He looks up at me and smiles and says his usual, “Hey, what’s up, Dana?”, so I go in.

We talk about quite a bit in the half hour I’m in there. I ask him how he’s doing with Steve in there, since I heard him coughing to death this morning. Scott says he’s been spraying Lysol disinfectant at the end of every day, which I did hear him do on Monday. I say, “Yeah, I heard him earlier and thought ‘Scott is probably pressed up against the wall right now.’” I ask him if he is paranoid about getting sick, because I remember the end of January when I was super sick and got out the hospital, he asked me literally 3 times in one conversation if I was sure he was better. He gives me a funny look I can’t read, but I think maybe he is surprised that I actually remembered something so far back. 

We talk about shoes and shopping, and I mention how I’m going shopping Monday with my friend who is going to Jamaica, and he says he loves it there and that he’s been there 3 times. I wonder for about the 50th time if that’s where he got married, but I don’t feel that uncomfortable, jealous pang like I used to; I think I’ve been slowly working through it. Scott offers me some of his yogurt, which is sweet. I decline, but the sentiment means a lot to me that he would share his food with me. To me, it’s a symbol of trust.

We also get on the topic of his eye-doctor appointment and Scott mentions how he honestly doesn’t remember what my glasses look like. He can’t seem to make up his mind on this topic, but I think 2 weeks ago when he said I looked good in my glasses that he was trying to make up for his blunder of calling my type of glasses “nerd glasses”. Before I realize what I’m saying, I blurt out, “Oh! I have a pic of me in my glasses on my phone.” Then internally I go, “Shit, now we have to show Scott a selfie, and not even that great of one.” I could always say, “Nevermind, I must have taken it off my phone” or something, but I don’t. I show Scott one of the few pics I have of me in my glasses. I showed him a picture yesterday of an absolutely beautiful sunset I took of the lake out back back in the fall, and he had stared at that a good bit before handing my phone back to me. He stares at my selfie considerably longer, and I don’t know how to take that. He starts saying how most people think they look stupid in glasses but that others don’t think that about them, and how he thinks he looks stupid in glasses. Again, without thinking, I genuinely blurt out, “I think you look great in glasses!”. He truly does. He responds with, “See, I could say the same thing about you.” I want to move past only physically complimenting Scott, but as of yet I haven’t seen the opportune moment to do so. A part of me wishes I didn’t show him the selfie, because it’s just not a flattering photo of me (see below), but at the same time I know Scott won’t judge me or think badly of me, so I feel okay.

Something that I have been thinking about all week is how far we’ve come. I cannot predict the future and therefore do not know whether this will go beyond a friendship or how long Scott will be in my life, but I am honestly amazed at the progression here, and the change of heart. In the beginning, I was a hopeful, naive little thing, constantly showering Scott with attention while he basked in it. I would pelt him with question after question about him, his life, his weekends, while he clearly enjoyed being the center of attention while barely having to reciprocate anything in order to stay in this limelight I put him in. He didn’t seem to have much of a true interest in me as a person and he enjoyed talking himself up and stringing me along. And I look at us now, and I can see how he has genuine interest when he asks me things, how he now remembers things I tell him, how he always tries to reciprocate whether it’s with food or compliments, and how there have been times where I could see he was happy because I was happy, and I am amazed. I don’t know what has changed for him. He seems to have grown to care about me like I’ve grown to care about him, and I often wonder what exactly it is about me that has brought about this change in his heart. I guess he genuinely likes me as a person, and I wonder just what that entails. Before, it seemed like he only had intentions of hooking up with me, but the fact that he hasn’t mentioned it again after I told him to let me know also makes me wonder. I’m sure other reasons include his wife and his schedule, among other things, but I truly believe, as I’ve said in my last post, that there have been growing feelings on his end that have complicated this even further in the past month and a half. If we have come this far in only 5 months, what will the next 5 months bring? No matter what, I believe it will only be good things.

[thewinsisterchronicles]

Hey, could you do a winchester x sister christmas fic, where they're in their teens or something and John hasn't given her a present even though the boys get some? Idk, something along those lines maybe. You're writings amazing, btw Xxx

Word Count: 2879

Warnings: not really anything unless you count being forgotten by santa

A/N: so i made her the middle child because it made the most sense if she was going to be forgotten but anywaysssss HAPPY HOLIDAYS/MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!!!!! Srry it took so long and i know i said it would be out later but there was a party i had to attend and yeahsh

It wasn’t like she really expected anything. Every year was the same old repeat of the last- give or take the monster her family was hunting- but it didn’t stop the little pang of hope in her chest from saying that maybe this year will be different, maybe this year he’ll care.

Y/N doesn’t know why she does it. John never cared. He never does.

Y/N had her own motel room (John didn’t want to take part of her “shark week” when he was in a good mood, but at least she got her own place) across the hall from the boy’s. Dean tried to stay with her the first night- damn his brotherly instincts- but John insisted that “Y/N would be alright,” and that Dean “was needed on more important matters.”

But it was Christmas, and there was no way in hell that Y/N would sit by while her brothers got first dibs on whatever meal was left over from the previous night. She would at least take some of their food.

The hall wasn’t very big. A window to her right displayed the parking lot, vacant of any classic cars. An inch of relief fell upon her. She crossed the hall.

It took her less than ten seconds to pick the lock. Sam was always trying to catch up to her, but they all knew the youngest Winchester couldn’t match her skill set. Y/N smirked. The door clicked and swung open.

The room was empty, except for a few discarded beer bottles and half-eaten Chinese food containers. The fridge was barely open- Dean’s habit would eventually spoil all the food they had- and Y/N had to hold back a sigh as she made her way across the room.

Everything had to remain exactly where it was so when they came back, they wouldn’t know she was there. Y/N wasn’t too concerned; she was the “Expert Stealther,” as Sam and Dean called her. She had a couple videos of standing behind Dean without being noticed, capturing the exact moment he started squealing like a pig when he noticed her. He demanded she delete those videos, but she never would.

Her shoes were slung over her shoulder, like they always were when she turned into the “Expert Stealther,” as to not leave any mud or imprints on the floor. She was careful to not step in any dirt or clothes piles, making a few leaps; boys are disgusting. Eventually she made her way into the kitchen area, covering her hand with her shirt to leave no fingerprints as she opened the fridge door. A shift caught her eyes.

Y/N froze for half a second before relaxing, acting as though she wasn’t aware of whatever was there. She pretended to lower herself into the fridge as she reached for the gun behind the milk jug. Sam insisted that it was a good idea, and never until that moment had anyone truly considered otherwise.

She listened for any sounds from the room, picking up only the low hum of the generator and a few footfalls out in the hall as the maid rolled their cart. She lifted her head an inch, looking towards the curtain where she saw the movement. There was a space between the fabric and the window sill that was scarcely big enough for a small child, let alone an adult. Honestly, Y/N doubted that even a rat could fit in there without disturbing the curtain-

Oh.

Ew.

Y/N recoiled. She could handle zombies, ghouls, wendigo and rugaru, but a rat?

Hell no.

Grabbing the empty garbage can that stood beside the fridge, Y/N creeped up to where the supposed vermin rested. Taking a deep breath, she swung back the curtain and slammed the can down. Something bumped against the sides. Y/N shuddered in disgust. Motels.

The garbage can was heavy enough on its own. She left it where it was and made her way back to the fridge when something else caught her eye. A brown package poked one of its corners out from under the pillow. Frowning, she started to pull the package from under the pillow. Footsteps walked past the door. Y/N froze.

After a minute, she relaxed. The brown paper still stood out against the dirty white pillow. She swallowed, stealing a glance at the door.

It’s not mine. I shouldn’t take it.

But what exactly is it?

Before giving herself a chance to mull it over again, Y/N snatched it from its spot. A crumpled piece of brown wrapping paper came with her hand. Her eyes bulged out of her head before she realized that the package containing whatever had been in there had already been opened. She relaxed for a second before confusion overtook her once again. It didn’t quite click until she saw Sam, from Dad on the bottom of the page.

Oh.

Oh.

John Winchester wasn’t notorious for his gift-giving capabilities. None of them could even remember the last time he gave them anything other than an order. And it wasn’t like he suddenly became “Dad of the Year” just because he gave a couple presents to her siblings.

But it hurt a bit, knowing that he remembered them and not her.

Y/N wasn’t quite sure what she expected. It wasn’t like she was waiting for a new car or a private island, but remembering her brothers and not his only daughter….

John had really hit a new low.

A familiar rumble echoed into the room through the thin walls from the parking lot. Y/N whipped her head around, quickly but carefully placing the paper back under the pillow from whence it came. She quickly glanced around the room for anything that might give away her presence, but the sound of car doors slamming sent a jolt up her spine. If John found out that she had been snooping around in his room, the forgotten present would be the very least of her worries.

Retracing her steps quickly, she made sure to lock the door as she jumped from their room to hers. She quickly settled on her bed, making sure to even out her breathing. The sound of her brothers and John chattering drifted its way into her room. Her jaw clenched at the sound of laughter between them. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time John laughed, let alone with her brothers. He couldn’t really play favourites, could he?

The sound of their closing door answered her question before she could even finish asking it.

“Say,” Sam asked through a mouthful of chips, “what d’you think dad means with all this?” He was laying sprawled on the bed he shared with Dean, snacking on some Frito Lays John had bought him from the vending machine outside. It truly was an unusual experience, but John had just smiled at him and clapped him on the back. Now, he was in the shower, blasting out loudly, as the boys conversed in hushed tones.

“Huh?” Dean’s mouth, filled with fries, muffled most of his voice. Sam threw a chip at him.

“It’s just not like him,” Sam continued, dodging a fry. “You know, to be all…”Dean raised an eyebrow.

“You know,” Sam trailed, giving Dean a knowing look. Dean shrugged.

“Fatherly,” Sam said lowly. Dean stopped his hand, halfway to his mouth with a bunch of fries.

“Dad…” he faltered. “He works hard. It isn’t exactly easy raising three kids on your own. Especially when you work in this life.”

“Doesn’t seem much like raising us as kids,” Sam mumbled. “More like soldiers.”

“Hey,” Dean snapped. “Now I know it isn’t all fun and games, but the man works hard. Cut him some slack.”

They both fell silent, watching the TV they both forgot they had turned on. After a minute, Dean got up, grumbling something about grabbing a drink that Sam didn’t quite catch. He made his way to the fridge, which was closed. Huh.

“Did you go into the fridge before we left?” Dean turned around to his younger brother, watching as he dropped more chips into his mouth. He shook his head, keeping his eyes glued to the screen. He frowned slightly in confusion. He never fully shut the door. It was an old habit, from when John was in their motel room, sleeping, and Dean had to find a way to get food to his siblings without causing any commotion. Y/N though he was just lazy.

Whatever she had to think. As long as she could eat.

Without giving it much more thought, he reached for the fridge handle when a small thump sound caught his attention.

Thump. Thump.

He reached for the TV remote, shushing Sam’s whines when he turned it off. He listened intently, Sam following suit. He tracked the noise to an upturned trash bin, moving a few millimeters every couple seconds. Dean looked at his brother in confusion. He shrugged back at him. Taking out his knife (he ignored Sam’s sigh of annoyance in the background) and keeping a steady eye on the black can, he tipped it over slightly.

A grey blur rushed out, scaring Dean. He fell onto the bed beside him, clambering on as the rodent streaked across the room into a hole beside the fridge he hadn’t noticed. Sam laughed at Dean’s panicked hustle onto the mattress. Glaring at him, Dean crumpled up the brown wrapping paper he landed on into a ball and threw it at Sam, who just laughed more when it hit him weakly in the chest. Casting a quick glance at the floor, he rolled off the cot and straightened himself out, as much as he could. He caught Sam looking thoughtfully at the packaging.

“What,” Dean smirked, “scared a mouse’ll pop out at you too? I would be; they’re vicious.” Sam rolled his eyes, giving Dean an apathetic look.

“No.” He sat up a bit straighter. “Hey… what do you think dad got for Y/N?”

Dean froze. He looked back at the upturned garbage bin. Slowly, it clicked together slowly. The fridge. The basket. The mouse.

Oh.

Oh.

Y/N was trying to sleep. It was hard, seeing as it was the middle of the afternoon and cars blared their horns on the road. Sighing, she rolled over, shoving a pillow over her head. It didn’t muffled much.

There wasn’t really any reason for her to be upset. Her father wasn’t great- hell, he wasn’t even good- but somehow managed always to keep Y/N’s hopes up just enough to keep her vying for his approval. It really irritated her; she knew he wasn’t deserving of her loyalty, yet somehow he kept receiving it without much demand. She really wanted this time to be different; she wanted to turn away from him, become independent from his rules.

It was nice to fantasize, but she knew it couldn’t happen. She flopped onto her back.

She hadn’t left her room since the day before, when she found the gifts. Y/N didn’t quite know how she should’ve felt, but some mixture of jealousy and anger and disappointment reeked from her blanket. Maybe that was just her. She couldn’t be bothered to check, seeing as she hardly moved at all. Nobody came in to check on her, to ask how she was doing, to give her Christmas presents a day late.

A few knocks rattled her door. She recognized the pattern immediately: Dean.

“Go away,” she grumbled loudly, shoving her face into her pillow once again. Y/N heard her brother sigh on the other side of the door.

“Y/N/N,” Dean called out in a huff, “I know you’re in there. Let us in.”

So Sam’s with him. “Shark week,” she called out to him, grunting out the monosyllables. Another sigh from Dean. She heard the low murmur of the boys talking outside her door. A minute later, her lock jostled and, after twenty seconds, clicked open.

Her brothers bustled in, carrying bags of something that Y/N couldn’t quite make out. She could see their shit-eating grins, though.

“What’re you-” she started, stopping when Sam threw a chocolate bar at her. “What the hell, Sammy?”

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.” He smiled so widely at her that she couldn’t resist letting herself slip up from her grumpy disposition for a moment.

“What the hell are you two doing?” She asked, sitting upright. “Don’t you have a hunt to be on?”

“Dad’s interviewing suspects,” Dean said. He shifted through the contents of one bag, picking up a package wrapped in newspaper and tossing onto Y/N’s bed. “So, since we didn’t get to celebrate a late Christmas. Or an early one, depending on how you look at things.”

“Why?” she asked, opening up the candy bar. “Since when have we ever celebrated Christmas?”

“Since now,” Sam chimed. He smiled at his older sister. She noticed the sympathy his eyes held for a moment before turning cheery again.

“So you just want to have a nice Christmas get-together,” she said slowly, shifting her gaze from one nodding sibling to another, “and this has nothing to do with the fact that John forgot about me?”

The boys froze. Sam flicked his eyes towards Dean, who bit the inside of his cheek. Y/N met his gaze head on, daring him to deny it.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded. “You’re right. I-we, realized that dad had only gotten us presents. So, we decided that you’d be a total bitch for the next couple days if-” Sam kicked him. Dean glared and rolled his eyes.

“We wanted you to have a nice Christmas,” her younger brother explained. “Well, not that this is great or anything, but it probably beats watching your brothers get presents while you… don’t.”

“True enough.” Y/N shifted closer to the bags, eyeing them greedily. Dean smirked when he followed her line of sight.

“Yeah,” he laughed, “thought you’d throw a hissy-fit if you were left out.” Y/N bit her cheek and lowered her gaze for half a moment.

“Not that- not that we’d let it happen,” rushed Dean. “We just, uh-”

“Chill,” she laughed. “It’s cool. Now,” she made grabby hands at the bags once again, “gimme.”

Sam laughed as he threw the first present her way. She smiled back at him.There were only a couple presents, and they weren’t entirely the best she could’ve gotten (“Really, Dean? Tampons?”), but it was good. Hell, it was great. Sam was laughing, Dean was there- all of his blood and bones where they should be, no bruises forming at the base of his temple from a hunt or other… unknown source- and Y/N was sitting on her bed, enjoying their presence in a moment that held no danger.

She often imagined this was what heaven is like.

“So,” Y/N tossed some popcorn into her mouth, “what did you guys get?” The boys froze, glancing at each other. “It’s alright,” she assured them. “There’s no hard feelings against you for it.”

“I got a book,” Sam said after a minute. “Well, a textbook, really. I wasn’t really expecting it.”

“Really?” Y/N’s eyebrows flew into her hairline. Her father rarely acknowledged their need for education; the very concept of buying them school supplies would’ve laughed them out of the room. And maybe a little bit of “tough love,” as he called it. “What for?”

“It’s a history book,” he said plainly. “So not much. But it was pretty cool.”He shrugged it off, but Y/N knew what it meant to him. He wanted out of this life. This gift maybe meant that dad wanted it at one point, too.

“What about you, Dean?” She turned her attention to the eldest Winchester, who was observing the scenes displayed before him with a content smile on his face. He wiped it off the moment he as Y/N looking at him.

“New gun.” He said it nonchalantly, though his face broke out into a shit-eating grin. “Ivory grip, smooth finish.”

“Damn,” she huffed. “Got your own gun, huh?” She couldn’t deny it: she was almost jealous.

“Watch your mouth,” Dean said, half joking, half serious. “and yeah. Guess I’m just that responsible.”

Y/N and Sam exchanged a glance before busting out laughing. Dean glared at them, throwing a bag of popcorn at Y/N. He reached for the TV remote, turning the volume way up to drown out their chuckles.

“Move,” he said, practically sitting on top of his sister. “Friends is on.”

“Don’t be such a Ross,” she grumbled lightheartedly. Dean scoffed at her as she pried herself out from under his dead weight. Sam plopped down on the foot of the bed, propping himself up on his elbows. Pretty soon, he had dozed off, and Y/N wasn’t too far behind.

“Thanks for doing this,” she murmured. Dean looked down at her, raising an eyebrow.

“You really think I’d let you be forgotten?” He smiled sincerely at her, something Y/N didn’t see often.

“Hmm,” she yawned, shrinking further into the blankets. “I don’t know. Maybe.”Dean rolled his eyes, making sure not to disturb Y/N from her slumber. Slowly, he sank into the mattress, trying to match his sister’s level.

“I’d never forget you,” he murmured into her hair. Dean didn’t have the heart to pull away when she unconsciously moved closer towards the sound of his voice.