#incredibly funny. love to test a hypothesis!

[deliriousblue]

gmmtv really said we are pivoting fully into QL and ok fine one het show to keep nanon employed

[kyu-piddy]

Messy love triangles….

Leona x reader x riddle mayhaps⁉️

Ranking a singular twst love triangle on how messy it is

An: The more I write for Leona the more I find this man hilarious. Who knew petty men were this funny to write about?

Gn reader x Riddle, Leona

Trigger warnings: Swearing

900 words

Riddle vs Leona

There’s people that you wonder how they have beef. They’re not opposites, they’re not too similar, but there’s something that doesn’t quite click with them.

In the case of Riddle and Leona, their beef is over you.

Riddle is a fool I tell you. He might be a great student, he might be Mr perfect in anything and everything pertaining to stuff your parents would be proud of, but he is indeed a fool.

He will, very loudly and stupidly, call you his good friend to the Heartslabyul dorm while blushing up a storm as soon as you’re less than 10 feet away from him.

You were commenting in passing to Ace and Deuce how the history of magic assignment is really hard? There comes Riddle in the next morning carrying back breaking books on the topic, with sticky notes color coded to how important he thought that information was.

Did you complain about not being able to sleep properly? Riddle has brewed you a potion that is said to help sleep and prepared a brochure with every habit of yours that is making sleep evade you.

And yet he is not using the evidence to reach a sound verdict. He is instead looking pretty stupid and/or overbearing to everyone around him.

Trey and Cater are laughing their asses off at the interactions between you both.

If it was someone else it could be heavily considered that they were faking it, but it’s Riddle after all.

Mr. Lionman is, like always, emotionally constipated as hell.

Leona might be lazy as balls, but he is no idiot. He’s actually rather brilliant and also not blind, so the moment he sees Riddle interact with you, it’s on sight.

Verbally that is. Leona isn’t that trigger happy with people that he could snap like a twig.

He probably already suspected Riddle's crush on you just by hearing you talk, which he did in fact make an effort to stay awake for, but actually seeing the red short stack turn into a human prawn would piss him off sooooo bad.

This man is incredibly petty. He has never once actually tried in his classes, but seeing as that would make Riddle mad, he’s showing up at 8:00 am on the dot to every class and scoring 100 after 100 in every test he can.

Meanwhile Riddle’s jaw is glued to the floor.

He doesn’t really understand why Leona is rubbing his successes in his face, which does piss him off, but what pisses him off the most is how Leona is showing it off to you too??? How dare he!

Riddle should be the one that comes to you with his perfect tests, offering help all gentleman style.

Treys sweets are another weapon in Riddle's arsenal, but Leona is indeed a cheeky bastard that practices the age old “all is fair in love and war”.

Ruggie is going to be very busy making sure those sweets taste awful, and also trying to feed you with stuff “Leona” made.

Speaking of Trey, he’s going to have to make a decorated cake saying “You like ____” for his housewarden. Otherwise man will stay in the dark.

It is shocking news to Riddle once he figures it out, while everyone else sort of just… nods their heads and pretend it is such riveting new information.

“Trey, I have delved deep into my psyche and have reached the conclusion that my feelings for ___ aren’t exclusively platonic.”

“Oh, really now, Riddle?”

oH reALly NoW RiDdLe

Leona is also a contender for the most obvious crush on campus to those that know him.

Ruggie and Jack probably have a bet going on when Leona will confess. (Jack thinks it will be when the sun explodes. Ruggie is more akin to the hypothesis of the heat death of the universe coming first.)

Riddle is the one most likely to confess.

He believes in doing things the proper way so confessing is the way to go.

Man is redder than his hair and holding a script he wrote.

It’s really sweet actually. Riddle isn't some romantic bard of legend, but he writes down his feelings in the best way he can: with legal jargon.

Leona’s sixth sense is activating and he is running to match his rival.

Once again, metaphorically. He can’t be bothered to actually run.

He is putting his head on your shoulder, whispering into your ear…

“I know you like me, herbivore.”

Hell no! This man did not spend the time he did around you and planning how to get your attention to turn back around and say it’s you who is in love with him! Step on his tail or knee him on the groin cuz he deserves it.

For a Leona love triangle, this one isn’t that bad. I’d give it an A.

Any love triangle with two overblot boys tends to be really messed up, even after said overblot, but Leona and Riddle don’t have that much prior beef that turns the love triangle into a biohazard.

Leona will have his good ol inferiority complex to keep him company if rejected, but he doesn’t feel like he is in that much direct competition with Riddle, which spares him some of the heartache that a love triangle with Vil or Malleus would give.

Riddle will be haunted by his perfectionism and romantic stupidity if rejected, but he’s one of the more stable post overblot boys, so you don’t have much to fear. Probably.

[crystalkleure]

Haha hey remember that post I made awhile back, speculating on what a bad idea it might be to fuse dead things in the godless Frankenstein fossil machine

Meet White. He is a reanimated corpse. Two of them, actually. Or more like 1.5. [And I whipped up this half-assed partial reference sheet in one night instead of sleeping, so don’t look too hard at the chickenscratch lineart and visible guidelines, and kindly ignore the total lack of shading as well as any other messy jankiness.]

White is a product of me wondering not only about what happens if you NecroFuse a human with a Pokemon, but also what happens if you make it even worse and specifically fuse that human with a Pokemon capable of mega evolution. Because canon seems to imply that mega evolving is at best deeply uncomfortable -- and at worst outright agonizing -- for whatever creature is going through it.

Character Lore under the cut. Lots of text:

White is one of actually multiple undead guys who got mashed together with bits of dead Pokemon. They’re science experiments, so they've got the dex numbers of the Pokemon they're spliced with tattooed on the backs of their necks, and those numbers were treated as their names In The Evil Science Lab.

In his Original Life, White [and some of his buddies] got gored to death by some escaped Horrible Fucking Monsters that were accidentally [...and then not-so-accidentally] created via Two Pokemon At Once In A Fossil Resurrection Machine, because hey, it is SUPER easy to think you got Just One Thing's Bones from an excavation dig but then later you realize that Some Of Those Bones were from something TOTALLY different that just died in the same place. It happens. So, some Fossil Scientist People accidentally resurrected an Abomination, realized they fucked up pretty fast...and then started wondering if they REALLY fucked up or if this is Cool, Actually. And then the team of Science People split into two Morality Factions, with one half being like “This is unethical as shit, we need to make sure this doesn't happen again because it's not natural so who knows how this poor fucked up creature is suffering” and the other, cooler half being like “WE NEED TO DO THIS AGAIN RIGHT NOW BECAUSE SCIENCE. IMAGINE THE POSSIBILITIES HOLY SHIT.”

Cooler group splits off from the Horrified Group With Morals, and they promptly use their Science Knowledge to Construct More Machines and Make More Monsters. Doesn't take too long for them to realize, however, that Abomination Pokemon are stupidly hard to control, because not only are they suffering, their masters obviously don't care for their wellbeing, so Revolt Inevitably Occurs and they escape to wreak havoc upon the nearest congregation of townspeople. They promptly maul some people to death at a nearby local rock concert, scientists chase after them to clean up the mess, realize “Oh Shit, Manslaughter Charges Impending”, and then realize...

Science Guy 1: “...Hey, what happens if you put a dead person in the fossil machine?”

Science Guy 2: “Hey, people probably listen better than Pokemon. We can, like, TALK to people.”

Science Guy 3: “Lads, I got a stellar idea just now. And we got plenty of Dead Guys to start with right here! Great way to hide the bodies too, probably.”

This goes approximately as well as you would expect, and precisely as ethically. A smashing success!

However, because they Fucking Died, the reanimated Newly-Monsterized dudes do not remember shit about who they were pre-resurrection. They're not technically even the same people, they’re more like clones. They've been remade. So, all they know now is Science Lab Life, and they have no initial attachment to eachother aside from "that other guy is also a Science Experiment Person just like me, so Same Hat @ Labrat Neighbour ig", in spite of several having been friends or even family prior to death. They also just...don’t know/remember things in general. They are fresh blank slates. And to a morally-bankrupt team of scientists, that’s perfect! They can train these guys to behave however they please!

...However, people might be People Instead Of Animals, meaning they can be Reasoned With And Manipulated And Coerced far better than animals due to their far better communication abilities with the Science People, but...there is Still A Problem in the sense that Holy Shit, A Person Can Only Take So Much. You can only treat someone as "Experiment [number]" for so long, blatantly putting no value on their life outside of The Value Of Scientific Research, in spite of literally basically needing to raise them like a normal child due to the Lack Of Memories issue. Eventually they're not gonna be able to take that anymore and they are gonna Fucking Leave, too. And they’re gonna be much harder to track down than the rampaging Pokemon were. Impossible, actually, once they’ve ripped out their tracking chips.

So then there's just these monster dudes, who don't actually know what they are because they weren't ever told anything more than necessary to get them to cooperate with Tests And Experiments, just Escaped Into Civilization and having NO idea how Anything works. Fun! Especially considering how, at first glance, these just look like Normal Dudes. Their monster bits either aren't apparent or just look like funky body modifications.

They've also got Science Things in them and they Don't Know What The Fuck Those Things Even Are. They've just got these little Devices in/on their chests, and they were never informed of the exact functions of them because there's no reason to explain to the experiment What Is Happening, just that the experiment needs to Hold Still and Cooperate and Now Do This, Now Do This, Now Do That, Good Job That's Enough For Today, etc.

Those devices contain both key stones and mega stones.

If you were a Mad Pokemon Scientist, you would most certainly be interested in the mega evolution phenomenon. What would YOU do if some of your Undead Fusion Experiments happened to be spliced with bits of Pokemon known to be capable of mega evolving? You’d kill two birds with one enigmatic set of stones, that’s what you’d do. Your Frankenstein Experiments can even TALK to you and tell you exactly what they are experiencing when you run tests on them! It’s perfect!

So, if a rock-bearing monster’s heart rate goes too high, part of the little device, which is a barrier between one type of rock and the other, opens up and Exposes One Rock To The Other Rock. Which exposes the monster to the Rock Energy Reaction. The greater the stress, the higher the dose. And I’m sure you can see the snowball effect that’s gonna create, at least the first time or two.

They were INTENDED to eventually be made to Physically Fight With Eachother to gauge the effects of The Rocks™️ when the Guys With The Rocks are under Stress and need to Do Some Self-Defense. The Science Squad was basically trying to suss out the Actual Purpose of mega evolution. Because mega evolution is weird -- it puts ENORMOUS stress on the body of whatever is undergoing it, so the hypothesis was that its true power is probably drawn out best via a perceived life-threatening situation, like it’s a type of hysterical strength, because what else would cause a need for that kind of ability. And aren’t ethics a bit overrated?

So, there’s our premise. White is just wandering around without any particular purpose outside of never ever going back to Science Hell, and he has no clue what the funny little doohickey buried in his chest does until it activates one day and absolutely fucks him up [...as well as everyone around him. Mega Absol radiate an Aura Of Sheer Terror that can literally scare people with weak hearts to death if they’re not careful.]

And now, some Miscellaneous Character Info:

The bit about Lots Of Death happening at a rock concert specifically was important. White was actually the vocalist of the band that was playing. He doesn’t remember that now, but he still loves music and has the same strong vocal cords. And THAT is important because White is partially an Absol now and Absol naturally learns Perish Song. These Fusion Monsters are absolutely capable of using Pokemon moves, though whether they’re aware of this is a different matter entirely. Imagine what happens when they end up tapping into those abilities accidentally.

That band was a relatively-unknown little local band. White was by no means anywhere near famous. Very few people even realized he was gone, and most of the ones who would have noticed also ended up Equally Unalive.

That black stuff between the belts on White’s arms is mesh. Like, stocking mesh. It gets Ripped The Fuck Apart when he goes Mega Mode and his arm fur gets Extra Spiky. Hence one stocking being a bit tattered in that reference pic. He frequently has to replace those things, they are fragile.

“How did White get his name if he doesn’t remember his original name and didn’t have a real name in the lab” I am glad you asked! Post-escape, he eventually encountered a situation where someone asked him what his name was, he bluntly told them “I don’t have one. I am #359.”, they said “Well That Is Not A Name, I need something proper to call you”, and he was just...Super Apathetic. So, the other person picked out the name “White” just based on the fact that White’s hair is white, and he just shrugged and rolled with it.

As you can see in my Incredibly Quick And Rough Sketches, the backs of White’s shirts are open to accommodate that huge amount of fur that bristles out into false wings when he goes Mega Mode. Because his Actual Normal Hair is relatively long and overlaps with that fur, it blends in with his Actual Normal Hair and doesn’t look too odd [when it’s down]. Probably mostly because nobody’s expecting it to be anything OTHER than Perfectly Normal Hair That Just Happens To Be Very Long.

White does not particularly like violence. White does not want to beat you up. He will, though, without a bit of hesitation, if there’s some logical reason he feels like it’s the most practical course of action. Being essentially raised by Cold, Emotionally-Sterile Scientists With No Care For The Wellbeing Other Living Beings uh, tends to affect a guy a little bit. White has a bit of an internal dilemma regarding “It would be efficient for me to just Harm This Other Person to defuse the current situation, because attempting nonviolence will be overall more risky somehow” vs. “Holy shit it feels bad when I hurt people. Why does it feel bad when I hurt people. Is it...SUPPOSED to feel bad when I hurt people?? No one ever felt bad for hurting me.” He Figures Out How Empathy Works Eventually. He is a good guy at heart. He is a Monotone Snarker, but not actually Cold or Malicious at all.

If an Absol can do it, White can probably do it. He has incredibly keen senses and a STRONG ability to Detect Impending Doom. He has exactly the amount of Supernatural Absol Powers you would expect. He is also stupidly physically strong, way more so than he appears to be.

White can’t punch people. Look at the fist he’s making in the pic, he’s doing it wrong. If you punch someone like that, you WILL break your own thumb. That’s not a Revving Up To Sock Someone pose, he’s just tense. He’s using his thumb as a buffer between his long-ass Sharp As Fuck claws and the flesh of his palm. If White tries to punch anybody, or just makes a proper fist at all, he will impale his own hand on his nails. Like, all the way through. He CAN slash straight through things like metal and bone with those claws, though.

White...is unsettling. Completely accidentally, and unknowingly. He just radiates an Aura Of Intimidation [...or Pressure], even when not in Mega Mode, that scales depending on his mood. Just being near him tends to put people and Pokemon on edge. Thus, he’s generally avoided.

The latter point is especially unfortunate, because White’s preferred method of Socializing and Bonding is to just kind of quietly hang out in the same room as whoever he is trying to Socialize and Bond with. He just wants to, like...chill out Near A Buddy and watch a movie and share a bag of chips or something. His social skills are predictably not good.

[the-archxr]

Nobody Puts Harrington in a Corner

steve harrington x reader

Summary: What do you do when you want to go see a romance movie but have no one to take you? You haul along your best friend and have an impromptu dance lesson after, of course.

A/N: y’all I fucking love Dirty Dancing so much, it’s not even funny. This fic is honestly just self-indulgent, so enjoy??? Even if you don’t like Dirty Dancing.

Song Inspo: (I’ve Had) Time of My Life - Jennifer Warnes and Bill Medley, Hungry Eyes - Eric Carmen

•••••

“I have a business proposition for you.”

The words come out rushed, ragged and breathless. A strange mix that Steve isn’t particularly familiar with when it’s coming from you. His eyes trail up to your hunched figure, shocked at what he sees.

Your face is a blotchy red, with blown cheeks, and a heaving chest. With complete disregard of your previous statement he speaks up. “Did you run here?”

You shrug, and wipe at your forehead. “Yeah, but that’s besides the point.” Straightening your back, you almost square up Steve as a way of proving your point.

He leans his hip against the countertop with his arms crossed and hair falling haphazardly in his face. “I need to ask you something, Steve. And before you say no, just remember that I’m literally you’re most favourite person on the face of this planet who has saved your ass more times than I can count.”

“Okay..?” He pushes himself off the counter before straightening out the ugly green vest he has to wear. “What is it?”

You smile wildly but force yourself to keep some composure as to not draw Keith’s attention, who has definitely kicked you out of the store before, and wouldn’t hesitate to do it again.

“So...there’s this new movie...”

“Well there’s a lot of new movies, Y/N.” He butts in playfully, which earns a small glare in his direction (which inevitably turns into a smile, but you assume he’s too unobservant to actually notice).

“Anyway,” you exaggerate, wringing your hands together. “I want to see this movie, and no one will go with me...so I’m forcing you to be my...” you hesitate, trying to find the word. However, the one you were trying to avoid slips out. “My date.”

The boys eyes widen almost immediately as he awkwardly falls back a bit. “Your...date? Like a...date date?”

“What? No!” You say quickly, shaking your head. “No, I’m not asking you out, Harrington. I’m saving that for Family Video’s regular attendees.” You gesture to a group of giggling girls who’ve you seen here one to many times, who very obviously come here for the sole purpose that is Steve Harrington. “No, it’s cause it’s a romance movie, and I don’t really wanna’ go alone.”

He frowns and lifts his shoulders in question. “Why not?”

You laugh to yourself, the question sitting awkwardly within your mind. “Because...it’s embarrassing? I mean what would you think if you saw me by myself in that situation?”

He pauses and shrugs. “I guess I’d feel...I don’t know, pity? It’s a tough question.” He mumbles, eliciting a roll of your eyes.

You brush off his remark of it being a “tough question” and clear your throat. “Exactly, Steven. Which is why you are going to accompany me to this movie, so that way I don’t have to deal with the apparent pity.”

It’s silent for a moment. Steve chooses to lean against the counter again, as he mauls over your offer. “I don’t even like romance movies, Y/N.”

You frown and lean in closer to your friend. “I know, but please, Steve.”

You grab his hand and squeeze it, batting your eyelashes at him in the most exaggerated way you know. You don’t like manipulating people (much less your best friend), but for reasons unknown, the poor boy can never really say no to you—and you really need him to say yes.

His gaze make its way from your clasped hands, up your arm and to your face. His chest tightens and his whole body turns rigid as he watches you allow your head to lean ever-so-slightly to the side. Soon,  the tips of his ears grow hot and then -

“Um...excuse me?” Both of your necks snap to the source of the voice. It’s one of the girls from the group earlier, and you can’t help but chuckle, because she looks just as nervous as she sounds. Her eyes are quickly cast on Steve, which causes her to flick her ponytail back with a shaky smile. “My friends and I are trying to look for a certain movie, and we can’t seem to find it. Do you mind helping us?”

You turn to Steve with a smirk. He clears his throat, noticing that the hand that held his a mere few seconds ago rests casually on the counter. You look unbothered by the events that had occurred, which makes Steve’s stomach drop (and not in a good way). He frowns in your direction once more before shaking himself out of it, shooting a smile in the girls direction. “No problem.”

You laugh and stride towards the door. “The movie starts at seven, but you might as well show up thirty minutes early ‘cause you have a little tendency called ‘being late’, Harrington.”

You hold the door open, one side of your body burning with the summer heat that threatens the comfort of everyone, and the other side facing Steve and the air-conditioned store. You wait until he looks back at you, which takes him a few seconds before he’s practically shooing you away. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”

You jump in excitement and wink at the boy. “See you tonight, Stevie!”

“See you tonight,” he mumbles, before turning to the jittery group of girls in the corner.

•••••

“Look who’s the late one!” Steve shouts in your direction. It’s 6:50 (which is even a little late for you) and surprisingly Steve has already arrived. “Ya know I’ve been sitting here for like, fifteen minutes.”

You shut your car door and stride up the cocky boy. “Oh, I am truly sorry, your Highness, but my dear mother was keeping me up.”

He hums, looking you up and down with fake accusation. “...Apology accepted,” he shoots back before standing up and guiding the two of you to concession.

Really, it’s a miracle that the two of you made it on time. And it’s an even bigger miracle that the last two seats in the theatre were directly beside each other; enough space for the two of you, and your obscenely large bucket of popcorn.

Steve leans over to you as the lights dim dramatically. His breath ghosts over the shell of your ear, forcing your attention onto him. “So, uh, what kinda’ movie title is ‘Dirty Dancing’?”

You shake your head at him and push his face towards the screen. “Just watch the movie, Farmer Fred.”

“You and your Sixteen Candles references...” he mutters before you kick his foot with yours in annoyance. “Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet.”

He sighs and leans back in his seat, remaining quiet for the rest of your “date”.

•••••

The movie ends quickly—way too quickly for your liking, and when the lights turn back on you can’t help but frown.

The sound of clapping from the viewers drowns out the sounds of popcorn being squished on the ground and the squeaking of the seats.

Steve is standing up, his shadow casted over you as you try to steady yourself after sitting for so long. He lets you walk past him, hand grazing your lower back as he guides you through the bustling stream of exiting movie-goers.

Soon, the two of you have left the theatre itself and face the stark cold air of the night. “So...” Steve starts, slowly walking you to your car. “What did you th—“

“It was amazing!” You shout, eyes blown with excitement as you hop back and forth. With a breath you let yourself slip into pur amusement after having to control yourself for so long. “I mean the dancing and the plot was incredible! And—and the end was just...just so good! And don’t get me started on Patrick Swayze! Like, oh my god, who does he think he is just looking like that, prancing around without a care in the world?!”

Steve laughs and stops just before your car as you unlock it. “Yeah, honestly it wasn’t that bad. The lift was something else though.” He leans against the door as you put your purse into the passenger's seat. “I mean I can’t imagine doing that! And the amount of times they probably had to do it?! Geez, it’d be hell.”

You shake your head in disbelief. “Oh, come on, it didn’t look that hard.”

Steve’s jaw drops with a shake of his head. “Well it wasn’t hard for Baby, obviously. All she had to do was jump! Johnny was the one who had to hold her up!”

You laugh incredulously at your best friend before a rather treacherous idea pops in your head. You bite your lip, slam the car door shut and look out into the somewhat empty parking lot.

“Well, why don’t we out this theory to the test...?”

Steve’s laughter dies quickly before a squeak of a “what?” slips out of his mouth. You grab his hand and lead him to a rather deserted spot just south of where your cars are parked.

“Let’s try it out! Let’s be Baby and Johnny. Let’s do the lift.” Your tone turns serious which only adds to Steve’s ever-growing nervousness.

“You can’t be serious...” His hands are deep in his pockets as he leans from one foot to the other. Strands of hair in fall in front of his face, and for a moment, in the distant light, he really does look like Johnny.

You can’t help but really notice the oddity of the whole situation. What with Steve looking like a reincarnation of Johnny Castle and you deciding to get somewhat dressed up and wear your favourite sundress—one that is oddly similar to Baby’s. It’s a funny little coincidence that you opt to point out later. But now? The two of you have to do this.

You remove your jacket, leaving it on the ground and shake out your limbs before looking straight at your friend. Steve’s face deepens with his shock. “Oh god, you are serious.”

You laugh and signal at Steve to get ready. Instead he shakes his head. “Y/N, I--I don’t think this is the best idea.”

“Steve, come on! We’re testing out are hypothesis’ as to who had a more difficult time performing the lift.”

He shuffles quickly, and with a groan, throws his jacket off his body. “I swear to god, Y/N.” You here him mumble as he nervously fidgets and bends his knees. He gets into a stance similar to Johnny’s and holds out his hands to you. His whole body is shaking—which in comparison is odd because yours simply feels light.

The cold prickles at your exposed skin, and it sends your senses into overdrive as your eyes lock onto Steve’s.

Kicking off your shoes, you dig your heels into the ground and prepare yourself.

“Oh, and Steve?” His head shoots up to you. “Don’t drop me.”

He stands up straight at that as he loses his concentration. “Oh well that’s a really comforting thing to sa—WAIT!”

You had already started running. Your feet pounding against the gravel as fly-away pebbles poke the soles of your feet; your body gaining momentum with every step.

Steve rushes into the stance, desperately trying to ground himself.

“Steve!” You shout with a laugh as you jump. His hands catch your waist as he extends his legs. It almost works but with Steve’s partially delayed actions, your head barely gets above his before he’s stumbling backward.

He falls first, with you quickly following as his grip pulls you down with him.

You land on his chest, and for a moment the air is filled with shock. Rolling onto the ground beside him, you regain your breath before bursting in laughter.

“Jesus, Y/N!” He shouts, body tingling with nerves.

By now the parking lot is empty, save for the cars of the theatres workers, which means that your laugh echoes to the neighbouring buildings.

Steve pushes a hand through his hair before inhaling deeply. His eyes cast to your figure—still rolling on the ground—and before he has a chance to reprimand you, something hits him.

It’s a sudden feeling. One that pulls the last of his breath out of his lungs and throws it into the night sky. You don’t notice his sudden change in behaviour, and to be frank, he doesn’t even really recognize what he’s feeling other than the fact that he felt this...murmur this morning. Except this time it’s amplified.

He hears pounding in his ears, and as he watches the faint, yellow light from the theatre cast over your face, he feels the pit of his stomach burst open. Butterflies flutter around in his belly and threaten to escape his throat.

The feeling—one that is shocking, but not unwelcome—is indescribable. The boy gets lost in his thoughts as he watches you finally get up off the ground and gather your things.

Steve feels as though he’s watching an old tape. The pictures move slowly, and they’re a little fuzzy, but they elicit warm, nostalgic feelings.

Suddenly your voice rings through his ears, until he recognizes that you’re looking at him a little confused. Steve is snapped out of his trance, his body jumping up to match yours. Your eyes are wide as you stare him up and down. “You get another concussion?”

The joke is familiar, but his laugh is delayed. He simply shakes his head, realizing that this is the first time he’s actually looked at you (and if he’s honest, you’re making him a little nervous). He takes note that even though you look messy--with wild hair everywhere and a breathtaking smile--he can’t help but admire you in your most natural state. However you break the moment (unknowingly) with a shrug. Spinning on your heel to your car, you continue to talk to him as he walks over to the familiar, beat-up BMW. “Anyway, I was saying that for a first time that wasn’t bad. We just need a little practice.”

“The first time?” Steve questions, leaning on the roof of his car. “There’s gonna’ be a second time?”

You shrug with a cheeky smile. “If you want...”

He allows a small smile—a smile he can’t tell if you catch from the distance, but one he hopes you feel. “Yeah. I do.”

You smile back at him, and soon your bidding him goodnight and driving out of the parking lot.

Steve, on the other hand waits. He’s stunned, obviously. So much so that part of him is concerned about this new revelation. But the other part of him, recognizes it. He may be oblivious, but he’s not necessarily stupid.

And how could he be? When he hasn’t felt this way before...and it’s such a strong feeling. If anything, he’s forced to figure it out.

He grins to himself, the sight of you burned into his memory and carved into his heart. It’s the kind of sight that he knows he’ll see behind closed eyes and dazed moments where he can’t help but let his mind wander.

It’s a sight that promises something new.

He can’t wait to tell Robin about this.

•••••

Steve Harrington Taglist:

@wigofokoye @timeladygallifrey @fairlysuitehearts @loulouloueh @bluegreyme @coltonparayyko @readinthegarden12 @hello-therree @gothackedalready @aphrodites-perfume @arielizzlewizzle @fic-cheesecake @bohemiandeakyy @nerd-domland @blueoz @laneygthememequeen @xelaalec @i-justlikewhales @elen-alambil @heykarsyn @yellowhopes @veeshthefrog @justsomeficsilike @cxddlyash @aniya21890 @billyhargrovescigarette @nugturally @daddystevee @asheseiler @enchantedcruelsummer @gwenandtheunfortunatename

[shyung-shoes]

get to know the victonies in 7 easy steps!

an incomplete victon guide for a friend! 

han seungwoo

-dec 24, 1994

-oldest, former leader (after returning to victon post-x1, seungsik took over being the leader), producer, song writer, general all arounder

-debuted his solo album fame on august 10, 2020 w/ title track sacrifice

-placed #3 (i think) on pdx101 so was a part of x1 (wasn’t part of nostalgic night promotions for this reason)

-easiest way to identify him is the Snose i think

-very kind, loves his members so so so much, would probably commit 7 felonies for all of them but specifically subin

-gentle giant

-Dedicated To The Craft

-the Snlaugh is one of the most important laughs ever. also the way he seal claps when he laughs </3 

-the duality is real!! constantly think of the howling studio choom behind where he’s like “im not sexy im cute!” wrapped in all black leather, like ok king go off ig

kang seungsik

-april 16, 1995

-leader, main vocal, lyricist, composer (all victonies have writing/composing credits on at least one album)

-easiest way to identify him: the Kang Seungsik Smile, also his bright white hair in what i said era

-solo on voice: the future is now: carry on

-the Unvierse has it out for this man i swear. always gets killed first in mafia (those are the rules, victon didn’t make them), shit just always happens to him

-if someone makes a potato joke, it’s about sik

-everyone swerved for him during what i said era, as every should!

-always looks out for his team, part of the Emotional Support Squad

heo chan

-dec 14, 1995

-main dancer

-solo on voice: the future is now: eyes on you

-easiest way to identify him: Heo Chan Sparkly Eyes, blond/white hair during Howling era

-the type to always lighten the mood. loves making his members laugh :((

-incredible incredible dancer!! god the heo chan tunnel vision i get when watching their stages.... 

-Loud (tm)

-is funny no matter what victon says! heo chan please reply to my dms, ill laugh at all ur jokes

lim sejun

-may 4, 1996

-solo on v:tfis: utopia

-easiest way to identify him: The Guy in the Red in the WIS mv, bright blue powerade hair in howling era

-the Middle Child

-other half of the Emotional Support Squad

-watching sejun is just either complete heart eyes or ????. sometimes though, it’s both. the Sejun Duality

-is really good at being a support for hyung line and an older brother figure to maknae line

-his voice has gotten so much stronger over the years and im! so! proud! of him!

do hanse

-sep 25, 1997

-main rapper

-solo on v:tfis: where is the love

-easiest way to identify him: the orange hair in wis era, pink hair (for part of) mayday era, he’s the one going crazy going stupid idk what else to say, piercings!!

-uwu bright child, do hanse i would commit so many crimes for you

-one of those “looks scary but is actual an Angel” rapper types

-has a few tattoos, most notably on his right bicep

-apparently can spend hours in a karaoke room by himself and be completely happy

choi byungchan

-nov 12, 1997

-easiest way to identify him: i get such byung tunnel vision idek what feature to pick um.... DIMPLES DIMPLES DIMPLES, Tall Man Byung, the sun personified,

-was on pdx101 w/ snoo but left for personal reasons

-didn’t promote during lots of howling activites due to an injury

-byungchan take care of yourself i stg

-acting debut last fall w/ Live On (also featuring nu’est Minhyun and a member of momoland)

-his confidence this past era was SO much stronger than in years prior and (not to be het on main) it’s very sexy of him!!

-his smile/laugh is incredibly infectious

-sometimes says ??? things or just shit thats completely out the cut (the scorpio just jumps out)

jung subin

-april 5, 1999

-maknae, the boss of victon

-easiest way to identify him: Who is Any Victonie Staring At With Extreme Affection, lilac(?) hair during mayday era

-acted in: the psychopaths’ diary, fling at the convience store (is this the right title? i do not know, there are too many words. starred beside pentagon’s wooseok, ab6ix’s donghyun, golcha’s jaehyun)

-every victon guide has to mention that victon is one (1) jung subin and six subin stans

-Please Be Aware: the baby Bites

-very fond of his family (both biological and Victon)

-takes his work incredibly seriously

-could subin’s laugh be the solution to world peace? scientist’s are still testing this incredibly important hypothesis

[worryinglyinnocent]

Fic: Through a Telescopic Lens

AU-gust Day Thirty-One: A Combination of Two Previous AUs. (19th Century & Professional Rivals) Fandom: Once Upon A Time/Stargate Universe/War of the Worlds Pairing: Rushbelle

Rated: T

Summary: For all that they don’t seem to get along, Ogilvy is certain that there are finer feelings at work between his two assistants, Belle French and Nicholas Rush, and he decides to help them on their way.

Through a Telescopic Lens

Ogilvy had long since accepted that finding true love was probably not going to be on the cards for him, and he had learned to live with this sad knowledge, and he had made his peace with it. Far from vowing never to have anything to do with love and romance and becoming bitter about the whole affair, he had decided that whilst he could not in good faith hope for himself, he could definitely do something about helping others towards true love. 

That was why, when Miss Belle French first came to his observatory with a keen interest in astronomy and a desire to learn as much as she possibly could, having heard tell of the accuracy and resolution of his telescope, Ogilvy began to wonder.

He began to wonder even more when Miss Belle French first met Mr Nicholas Rush. 

Rush had been Ogilvy’s assistant for the past three years. Unable to afford university attendance and having been dismissed from his hard-won scholarship after one too many arguments with the professors, becoming an apprentice had been his best chance of increasing his knowledge and putting his intellect to good use - and even Ogilvy would admit that Rush was a brilliant scientist, although he never used quite such strong terms to Rush himself, fearing that the younger man’s hubris would one day be the better of him. 

When Belle came into their lives at the observatory, Ogilvy knew that day had come. 

To say that Belle and Rush hated each other at first sight would have been incorrect. Belle had no feelings towards Rush one way or the other, so the hatred went one way only, and Ogilvy didn’t think that Rush’s strong feelings really manifested as hatred, more a fear of losing his prestigious position. If Ogilvy took Belle on as another apprentice, then where did that leave Rush?

He needn’t have worried, and Ogilvy had tried a few times to reassure him. Ogilvy would quite happily have taken on as many apprentices as his observatory could hold. Still, it was clear that Rush viewed Belle as an imposter and a rival, and he seemed to be devoting as much time to needling her and trying to push her out as he did to actually working on his observations.

Belle, for her part, took no notice of Rush’s insistent prodding, which only served to infuriate him even more. In fact, Ogilvy would go so far as to say that Belle found it amusing and would needle Rush back just as much in jest in order to get a giggle at his expense. The interactions between the two of them were fascinating to watch, and Ogilvy was certain that had he been a naturalist instead of a chemist and astronomer, he would have been able to write an entire thesis on the courtship habits of the human male and female using Belle and Rush as a case study.

There was definitely something there between them that neither of them had acknowledged yet. He had first seen it on the very first day that Belle had come into the observatory and set up at her little desk, much to Rush’s chagrin. It had only grown in the weeks that had passed since then. For all Rush professed his ire towards her, he couldn’t take his eyes off her, and Belle, for her part, would sneak little glances at her rival whenever she thought that he wasn’t looking.

There were definitely some finer feelings going on there, although getting them to admit it might prove rather more difficult. Ogilvy had toyed with the idea of simply leaving them alone in the observatory together for increasing periods of time until they actually talked to each other properly without the sniping or sarcasm that usually accompanied their conversations, but given the high levels of antagonism that were heavy in the air, he feared for the safety of some of his scientific equipment if he were to take that option.

The one thing that was clear was that they were not going to get there under their own steam, and Ogilvy, in his self-appointed position as matchmaker and helper along of true love, was going to have to coax them in the right direction. First of all, though, he had to establish that he had not misread the signs completely. Like any good scientist, he was going to have to test his hypothesis before it could be confirmed as a viable theory.

Ogilvy put his hypothesis to the test one evening after Belle had left the observatory and gone home. She lived with her father, who, whilst he did not actively condemn her interest in science and astronomy, was certainly rather iffy about the whole thing, and he did not like her staying out the entire night with only two single men for company. Ogilvy smiled at the notion. There was certainly nothing to worry about from his quarter, but he felt that Mr French would have to get used to the idea of Rush being in his daughter’s life sooner rather than later.

“You know, Mr Rush,” Ogilvy began as they were packing everything away for the night, “I think that some days you spend more time attempting to aggravate Miss French than you do actually doing your own work. Perhaps if you were to focus your attention more on what you’re supposed to be doing, you would not feel so incredibly insecure in your position as to feel the need to watch her every moment of the time you’re in the same room.”

Rush stiffened. “I just want to make sure that she doesn’t make any stupid mistakes,” he muttered. “She hardly has the experience that her position requires. She’s barely more than an amateur.”

“We were all barely more than amateurs once,” Ogilvy pointed out. “But in all the time that you’ve been, ahem, supervising her, has she ever made a stupid mistake?”

“No.”

“Mr Rush, there’s really no need to sound so incredibly disappointed in that fact. This game of one-upmanship that you’re playing with Miss French isn’t at all gentlemanly, especially since she isn’t playing back. Might I suggest that you try and take your eyes off her for a while? Although I will admit, she is certainly beautiful, and I can quite see why a man such as yourself would want to gaze upon her so intently for such extended periods of time.”

At this suggestion, Rush began to splutter indignantly, the tips of his ears going distinctly pink. Ogilvy just smiled to himself. It appeared that part one of his hypothesis had been nicely proven. Now all he had to do was to get Belle’s side of the story.

Given that Belle did not bristle every time Rush’s name was mentioned, this was a far easier process, since he could as good as ask her outright. It was the next day, and Rush had been sent on a contrived errand to the post office to get him out of the way. He had gone grumbling that as the more junior of the two of them, Belle should be the one sent to the post office, but Ogilvy had just smiled benignly and waved him on his way before turning back to Belle. They had been working in a companionable silence for a little while before he spoke.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you, Belle, what your thoughts towards Mr Rush are. I know that you always respond to his jabs marvellously, but in the moments when you’re not verbally jousting, how do you find him?”

“Well, he’s rude, and arrogant, and incredibly insecure. He’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of Cheddar Gorge, but there’s something about him that I can’t help but like. In the moments when he puts aside this stupid rivalry he has with me and gets talking about the science and the stars he’s so passionate about, he becomes a completely different person. It’s wonderful to hear. Then it’s almost as if he remembers that he’s supposed to be snipping at me rather than enthusing about science and it’s back to the way it was before. For those moments, though, it’s like getting a glimpse into the real him…”

She broke off with an embarrassed cough, looking away.

“Sorry. That probably wasn’t what you meant.”

“Oh no, my dear, it’s proved most insightful nonetheless.”

Belle sighed. “Do you think that he’s ever going to stop hating me? I can handle the verbal jousting, as you so quaintly put it; in fact I quite enjoy it at times, but I can’t help thinking that it must be exhausting for him to maintain such a high level of petty dislike for so long, especially when I can see it’s just for show, and I’ve seen the glimpses of his true nature.”

“I don’t think he hates you at all, Miss French. In fact, I’d go so far as to say the opposite.”

“He’s got a very funny way of showing it.”

“He is, as you correctly surmised, incredibly insecure. He’s had to fight hard for everything that he’s received in life, and he can’t bear the thought of what he has now being taken away from him like his other opportunities have been. Put frankly, he recognises your brilliance and he feels threatened by you. Once he realises that he has nothing to fear from you, then I think you might be surprised.”

Belle smiled.

“I do hope that you’re right, Dr Ogilvy.”

X

For the next few days after these conversations had taken place, Ogilvy continued to watch the progression of Belle and Rush’s conversations. At first, it seemed that nothing had changed between them. The sparring continued, and so did the constant glances. But after a day or so, he noticed the change. Both of them mellowed a little, the back and forth no longer as sharp and biting but more in the spirit of fun. Rush actually praised one of Belle’s observations one evening, which earned him a glowing smile from her, in turn making his ears go pink again.

Ogilvy just smiled to himself as he superintended. Things were definitely going in the right direction. Perhaps they could be trusted to be left alone together after all. It would only be for a few minutes – he couldn’t afford a scandal, after all – but hopefully it would be enough for something to happen. If Rush didn’t feel the need to keep up the façade of hatred for Ogilvy as an audience, maybe true feelings would come to light.

It was a sunny day in the observatory when he announced that he was stepping out into the garden for some trivial reason or other, and he promptly proceeded to walk around the perimeter three times doing absolutely nothing of note before coming back into the observatory. Belle and Rush were standing a little closer together, their heads both bent over the same book as they worked together, rather than against each other for once. After a while, they seemed to realise the proximity that they had got into, looking at each other as awkward silence reigned.

Belle took the initiative. Ogilvy had thought that she would be the one to do so. She snapped the book shut and pecked a chaste little kiss to Rush’s cheek before saying her thanks and moving away. Rush was left standing as if petrified for a long time afterwards, and it was only Ogilvy taking pity on him and attracting his attention that pulled him out of his stupor.

Ogilvy smiled to himself again. Yes, he was certain that those two were going to be heading in the right direction now.

[sharkfish]

ps i loved this one

(rereading bookmarks edition part 2)

(part 1)

i’ve been rereading stories from my bookmarks as a comfort thing. i’m getting real deep in there to stuff i haven’t (re)read for years, and damn do i have good taste. the ones i’ve read recently that you should, too:

(under the cut so i’m not that asshole that makes you scroll past an endless post)

Best Laid Plans by Persephoneshadow

Things are going well for Dean: he's landed the biggest design job of his architectural career and is about to get final approval on the project despite how difficult the development company, personified by Castiel Novak, has made it. It's not bad for a moody omega...except things are also going terribly for Dean because he has to get in a plane and fly to a meeting, and course ends up in heat a few hours before. Luckily, Castiel is there to help and both men discover the good that can come when nothing goes quite as intended.

i don’t know why i’m such a ho for stories where dean thinks cas hates him, but cas secretly adores him and is just a little “rusty” on his “people skills.” i’m also a ho for stories where dean is a gd skilled genius but his dumb ass still thinks his work sucks and/or anything good is due to other people instead of himself. and also, heat boning. 

Confessions of a Cam Boy by MsCaptainWinchester (rons_pigwidgeon)

Dean runs a cam show to pay his way through marketing school, but he's about to start an internship that he doesn't know will change his life. Watching Dean's show is Castiel's favorite way to wind down after a stressful day at Sandover Bridge & Iron. When Cas comes to work one day and finds his favorite cam boy setting coffee on his desk, he is completely thrown. Will Dean finish his internship without knowing his favorite viewer is his new boss, or will he be able to see through Cas' non-existent poker face and figure it out?

omg poor cas is soooo awkward and dean is weirded out about how much his new boss seems to dislike him and then it’s super sexy >:) 

For Science by shiphitsthefan

“Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

everyone is such adorable nerds in this one. it’s a fic about rimming, but it’s also about love and discovering yourself and acceptance. it explores cas’s realization through his connection with dean that he’s not straight up ace but more grey/demi - and that doesn’t mean he was “faking” being ace up until he met dean. 

Friends with Benefits with Tentacles by andimeantittosting (Saylee)

Dean's never been embarrassed about his porn collection before, but that was before he found Cas holding his prized copy of Sweet Princess Asuka and the Tentacles of Pleasure. Dean finds himself sweating bullets—because this is Cas, sweet, nerdy Cas. Cas, his friend. Cas, his roommate. Cas, his—only slightly out-of-control—crush.

Cas, with his big, blue eyes and muscular arms and perpetual sex hair.

Cas, with his tentacles.

The last thing he expects is for Cas to suggest they experiment together.

there are not enough tentacle fics out there and i 100000% approve of this addition to the tag. i love that dean is out there legitimately studying porn, and the tentacles are obviously super fun, and there were parts where my heart hurt so bad, all around a damn fine fic. 

Grown-Ups Making Grown-Up Choices by Carrieosity

Dean is a grown-ass man - he can take perfectly good care of himself, thank you very much. Except that sometimes the easier or more fun choices aren't always the right or best ones, and, all right, maybe thinking ahead and working the long game isn't his strongest suit. It's fine! He's fine.

When he meets Castiel, he realizes that flying by the seat of his pants may not be the best way to attract the super-serious (gorgeous, funny, genius) Alpha. Dean's shrink has been telling him he needs to start making "grown-up choices," and if that's what he has to think about in order to make Cas fall for him, then he'll give it a whirl.

i LOVE this fic (series). i feel so hard for dean feeling like he’s too old for his life to still be a mess, but i also felt sad for him that he thought he had to make all these hardcore changes - basically turn himself into a different person - to be worthy of cas’s attentions. i fucking adore cas in this, and i nearly cried just thinking about all the damn peppers they eat, and i want to read it again right now. 

If I Run by Anonymous

"Dean Winchester is a red-blooded American male. He lifts all the things. He aims for functional strength. He counts his macros and makes fun of curlbros. He is not a member of the Tarahumara tribe and he will not read Born to Run, no matter how many times Sam tells him to, because Starting Strength is the only book Dean will ever fucking need."

***

Wherein a friendly competition with the mysterious ThursdaysAngel turns into a sexy selfie-trading spree that motivates Dean Winchester to train for his first marathon.

i really really love this fic and reread it pretty often tbh. it only became “anonymous” pretty recently and i’m so curious about why!! regardless, this fic is a really great time!!! 

It's Always More Than Once (Before It Takes) by squeemonster

The first time it happens, it's because of boredom. Or, at least that's what Dean tells himself to justify it. Boredom and Dean Winchester are a dangerous combination, especially when you factor in beer, a raging libido, and laziness.

dean: my dudes, is it gay to do sexy stuff with your male bff? cuz i’m totally straight. but also, having sex with my male bff. 

I Wanna Get Outside (Of Me) by emwebb17

Dean is a novice in the dom/sub world asked by his employer as a desperate last resort to be a sub for his recluse of a brother, Castiel. Castiel is a diagnosed OCD suffering from PTSD and agoraphobia, mysophobia, and dystychiphobia. Needless to say—he’s a mess who hasn’t stepped out of his home in literally seven years. The only times Gabriel can see traces of the way his brother used to be is when he feels in control—specifically when he has control over a sub. However, due to his idiosyncrasies and paranoia, keeping a sub around has been impossible. Enter Dean, who’s not a very traditional submissive, to try his hand at subbing for the hermit.

you know how sometimes you read a fic, and it takes ages to get yourself out of that world? even though you’re finished, you’re still right there with him? this is one of those fics. i reread it a couple weeks ago and fell asleep thinking about it last night. i cry a lot reading this one. 

Living in Agony by ChasingRabbits

Dean Winchester's life is... well, it's not great. He's a gym teacher, he's in his thirties, and he can't seem to keep any part of his life straight. When the aftermath of a one-night stand goes awry, Dean is dragged kicking and screaming out of his cozy little closet and into the harsh light of reality.

Enter: Castiel Novak, the new history teacher, who knows full well that life gets crappy when you don't allow yourself to live it in the way it needs to be lived.

there aren’t a lot of stories that deal with themes of mental illness, and a lot of them read like an episode of degrassi where everything wraps up in 30min to never be discussed again. this story is honest in that there’s no easy out. there’s medication and therapy and supportive people, but that’s not always enough. it’s a story about how you don’t have to be mentally ill to be fucked up, and while people can’t fix each other, they can help each other. content note: references to a pre-story suicide attempt. 

Oddly Shaped Empty by jemariel

Dean grew up thinking -- knowing -- he'd be an alpha.

Until he failed to present. As a beta, he has no mating cycle, no noticeable pheromones, none of the physical markers that are so important in a world of alphas and omegas. He's out of place. How is he supposed to navigate his relationships and find love when he doesn't fit into the neatly-defined boxes he's used to?

By the time he meets his new roommate, Castiel, he's more or less given up on finding a mate. He wears his secondary gender like a chip on his shoulder. But you never know what the future holds, who will come into your life, and how they might change it forever.....

Queer themes, finding identity, reconciling the past, and a whole lot of smut.

y’all know @jemariel is a gd genius, but i’m particularly obsessed with their fics that use abo to explore queer identify & experiences. i hold my breath reading most of this fic and also cry. 

Steal my Breath by Sincestiel

“Tighter, Dean, please,” Cas urges throwing his head back to rest on Dean’s shoulder. Dean squeezes. He doesn’t know why Cas wants this or even what the appeal is, but he always comes harder when he’s struggling to breathe.

what’s on the tin. a quick lil breathplay fic that is thoroughly enjoyable. 

Unsolicited by Dangerousnotbroken

In which Dean Winchester gets an unsolicited dick pic from an unknown sender which is both totally not disappointing in that it's a really nice dick pic, and incredibly disappointing in that it's clearly a downloaded picture of his favorite porn star.

There's absolutely no way it's actually this porn star sending it to him, right?

Right?

this is a destiel classic and i feel like anyone who isn’t new here has probably read it. but here’s your reminder that this is a great fic and you should (re)read it. 

Wordplay by Dangerousnotbroken @dangerousnotbroken​

“I don’t understand why talking dirty is such a big deal for you humans,” Cas complains, apropos of nothing.

it’s a “cas learning about sex” and also dirty talk, which are both things i’m really into!! and DNB is a genius so that’s even better. 

if you enjoy these fics (and you should), please give the writer some love via kudos and/or comments. <3

ps - as always, if i didn’t tag the writer and you know their tumblr, please tag in the comments. i don’t think there’s a writer alive who wouldn’t be happy to be on a rec list. :)

[kellys-book-corner]

Title: The Love Hypothesis by Laura Steven

Prompt: Muggle Studies; read a book from a muggle's POV (A contemporary)

Page Count: 295 Pages 📚

Rating: 4 stars ⭐

Synopsis: Physics genius Caro Kerber-Murphy knows she’s smart. With straight As and a college scholarship already in the bag, she’s meeting her two dads’ colossal expectations and then some. But there’s one test she’s never quite been able to ace: love. And when, in a particularly desperate moment, Caro discovers a (definitely questionable) scientific breakthrough that promises to make you irresistible to everyone around you, she wonders if this could be the key. What happens next will change everything Caro thought she knew chemistry – in the lab and in love.

Is her long-time crush Haruki with her of his own free will? Are her feelings for her best girl friend some sort of side-effect? Will her dog, Sirius, ever stop humping her leg?

---

"We did this. We pushed her away. But when the only way to bring her back is to round off our edges, to turn down our volume...is that really friendship at all?"

---

So, this was a surprisingly poignant read.

I've read Laura Steven's other works, so I knew there'd be a moral component and a social commentary to reflect on, but it wasn't the message I was expecting.

Considering this is marketed as a queer f/f story, I actually think it was entirely unnecessary to the plot.

Now, let me explain here. I love a good queer novel, particularly one that explores bisexuality and a w/w narrative. But I felt that this book tacked it on at the end real fast with incredibly little build up. Our main character, Caro, doesn't think of women at all for the first 250 pages of this book, and then suddenly she's madly in love with a girl? I know the stereotype is that queer girls move fast, but bloody hell, not that fast! 😂

Other than that, I loved this novel. This book was about growing as a person, about how friend dynamics changed and shifted and grew and, yes, sometimes they fall apart. I thought this book was well written, well thought out, and well executed. I live for how Cairo grows in confidence and becomes more herself, but she never actually changed. She still loves Physics, she still loves rom-coms, but she grows to also love herself, and I think there's an incredibly powerful message in that. I just wish the queer romance sub-plot had been either left out entirely, our thread more throughout the rest of this story.

It has great characters with great diversity and was genuinely funny and heart warming. I've enjoyed every Laura Steven book I've read, and I'm pretty sure that I'll enjoy the rest that gets released. I honestly enjoyed myself, and with our current social situation, this book gave me exactly what I needed.

[celtics534]

I Don’t Care

Written for the SIYE “First Time” Challenge. Inspired by I Don’t Care by Ed Sheeran and Justin Bieber. A muggle AU where Harry and Ginny have never met.

Read on: FF.net, AO3, and SIYE

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Come on, mate!” Seamus yelled over the chest-pounding music. “Stop being such a spanner.” 

  Harry glared at his Irish friend. “I told you I would come with you, not that I would enjoy myself.” 

  “But sitting in a corner is so --” Seamus made an obscure gesture with his hands. 

  “So ‘ Harry ’?” Harry supplied, giving his friend a sideways smile. He still couldn’t understand why Seamus had begged him to go to this damn party. Not once had Harry expressed any interest in going to a house party hosted by Dean (Seamus’ old school mate). Harry hated loud noises and really wasn’t that fond of people, which was why he always let Seamus lead any interviews they conducted during investigations. 

  Seamus just laughed, thumping Harry’s shoulder with his wide hand. “That’s right.” Across the room, a chant started as Dean chugged down his pint. Without a second glance at Harry, Seamus was gone, joining in the shout. 

  Harry felt himself relax. This was what he preferred when forced to be at a party -- being able to keep to himself. It wasn’t that he hated everyone... no, he just didn’t fit in with any of these people. He’d rather nurse his drink, hope that Seamus forgot he was here, and try to sneak out the back door rather than go anywhere near what they were calling a dance floor . 

  “Ah, I found my fellow party hater.” A voice spoke somewhere to his left. Harry turned to see an incredibly attractive redhead. He’d always had a thing for redheads, but this woman -- If Harry had been a cartoon character, his jaw would be on the floor. 

 The woman smiled at him, and even in the horrible blue and green lighting, Harry could see an adorable dimple near a cluster of freckles. 

  “Mind if I join you?” she asked, gesturing to the empty armchair beside him. 

  “Uh --” Harry mentally slapped himself. “Yeah, of course.” 

  The redhead sat down, taking a minute to settle herself before leaning forward and holding out her hand. “I’m Ginny.” 

  Harry shook it, surprised by the strong grip and calluses. “Harry.” 

  Ginny’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Harry, like Harry Potter?” 

  Here we go , Harry internally groaned. People always looked at him differently once they knew his name. The fact that his parents had died taking down Britain's most notorious serial killer since Jack the Ripper was not something he wanted to be known for. Everyone knew about the son of Lily and James Potter, who had been left an orphan because of Tom Riddle. 

  “You and Ron had that midnight duel with Malfoy.” Ginny laughed. “Ron came home during the winter holidays and told me that story!”

  It took Harry a moment to realize what she’d said. “That stor -- yeah!” Harry felt his lips curve into a smile for the first time that night. “Yeah. It was great. We had fake swords that Ron threw aside to punch Malfoy in the nose. But how do you --” It was like a lightbulb went off as he connected the dots. “Ginny Weasley...as in Ron’s little sister?” 

  “Not my preferred title.” Ginny let out a little laugh. “But it’s true. Ron is my older brother.” 

  Harry had heard stories about Ron’s annoying little sister for years. She and her brother, Percy, had been accepted into a prestigious independent school while Ron the rest of the Weasley brothers had been in the same district as Harry. But surely this couldn’t be the “pain in the arse” sister. She seemed too… 

  “I feel like I already know you.” Ginny took a sip from her glass. “Between Ron and the twins. You’re famous!” 

  After only an hour of conversation, Harry felt Ginny was the most incredible person in the world. Not only was she beautiful, but she was also kind, considerate, and funny. 

  As the night turned into the early morning, Harry was unable to look away from her lips as she told amazing stories, wanting nothing more than to kiss them. He was never like this. When it came to women, he tended to admire from afar until he plucked up the nerve to give it a go and pitifully flirt with them. He was awkward on a good day, especially when it came to a beautiful woman.

  With Ginny, he was still awkward... but there were none of his normal flustered ramblings. He was talking with her smoothly, which in his book was close to a miracle. Because with a girl like Ginny Weasley, he should be on the floor in a floundering puddle. But Ginny… she was just so real . No one else in this damn house felt like that. Hell, he could count the number of people who felt like this on one hand. 

  "So, what did you do?" Harry had his face close to Ginny's under the pretense of hearing her, but really he was just enjoying what he assumed was her perfume. It was some sort of flower that he couldn't name, but God, it was one of the best things he'd ever smelled. 

  Ginny grinned as she shrugged nonchalantly. "I had to jump."  

  "So you just jumped off a cliff? Not even knowing how deep the water was?" 

  "It was that or be known as the team chicken."

  Harry shook his head, his smile reflecting hers. "And you couldn’t have that." 

  “That’s right.” Ginny laughed. “I knew they wouldn’t kill their new star striker.” She shrugged with a proud smirk on her lips. 

  “I would love to give cliff diving a go,” Harry mused, taking a swig from his bottle. 

  Ginny gave him an appraising look. “I could take you, see if you’ve got the bollocks to jump.” 

  “There are other ways for you to check that.” The words were out of Harry’s mouth before his brain could form a roadblock. “I -- I mean.” He started to splutter, something he’d impressively avoided up to that point. Fuck, that is not something you say to a mate’s sister, Harry!

  Instead of dumping her drink over his head, though, Ginny gave him a coy smile. “I’d be more than happy to conduct multiple tests, if you’re up for it.” 

  Harry’s brain short-circuited. He had no idea what was happening or where to go from there. He knew his mouth was hanging open, but he couldn’t seem to get his body to listen to any instructions.

  Ginny laughed.“But there are some first steps that need to be completed before we can test out my hypothesis.”

  “Which,” Harry cleared his throat, “Which steps are these?”

  “Oh, you know.” Ginny shrugged. “Dinner one night. Movie another. I’m not the kind of girl who skips the basics.” 

  “Dinner.” Harry let the word roll his tongue as if it was the first time he’d ever said it. “Dinner. Yeah -- um -- are you free tomorrow night?” 

  Ginny beamed at him. “Now I’m not.”

  Harry honestly couldn’t believe his own luck. Here was an incredible woman who wanted to go out with him, and not just for his name. “Great. I can pick you up at seven?” 

  “Seven sounds perfect.” Ginny pointed to his phone that had been sitting in front of him on the coffee table. “Can you unlock that?” 

  He did as he was told. Once the home page glared brightly at him, Ginny took the phone and started clicking buttons. After a minute she handed it back to him, with the screen displaying her contact information. 

  “Now.” She grabbed his beer and downed the remaining drink. “Shall we dance?”

  Harry’s brain was still lost in another universe (which might have explained his answer), but he managed to say, “Hell yes!” 

  XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

  “I don’t care.” Seamus laughed, taking another large gulp from his cup. “Emma Watson is fit as fuck. And that’s just what I’d want to do if I’d meet her. She'd be the best shag of my life.”

  Harry snorted, which he could barely hear over the deafening music blaring throughout Dean’s house. Somehow, Seamus had convinced Harry to come to another party. It was all a blur in his mind how he agreed, but his girlfriend had said she would come too. Inexplicably, knowing Ginny was coming made everything better for Harry. Just the thought of Ginny coming to his rescue lessened the knots of anxiety in his stomach.

  Before Harry could give his mates a cheeky response, arms wrapped around his shoulders and warm breath surrounded his left ear. “Hello, luv.”

  Harry twisted his neck to find himself enveloped in red hair. “Hello, Gin.”

  Ginny pressed a kiss to his lips. “Come with me to get a drink?”

  Without hesitation, Harry stood up. Seamus made a pointed gesture. “There he goes, lads! Leaving us to be with a bird.”

  Harry grinned at his mates. “She’s my own Emma Watson, can you blame me?”

  “She’s the best shag of your life?” Seamus asked with glee. Ron, however, groaned.

  “I don’t want to know, Harry.” Ron pointed his bottle at Harry. “I’m fine with you dating my sister, but I don’t want to know anything.”

  Harry didn’t speak, he just winked at Seamus who laughed and waved him away. “Don’t keep her waiting then!” 

  It took Harry a moment to make it through the crowd. His eyes were hyper-focused on Ginny’s long red hair. Finally, he reached her. She was pouring punch into a plastic cup. Harry bound his arms around her waist, letting his lips fall onto her neck. 

  Ginny tilted her head, allowing him better access. “If you keep this up, we won’t stay for our agreed hour.”

 Harry smiled into her skin. The previous night, while laying in his bed after an hour of not talking, Harry had complained about being stuck at parties for too long. Ginny had laughed and said they would only stick around for a few hours. Harry had then used some of his individualized negotiation tactics he saved only for her. In the end, he was able to shave three hours from their allotted party time and was able to have another hour of silence. 

  “Works by me.” Harry ran his tongue over a small cluster of freckles by her ear.

  Ginny’s breath hitched. “I’d hate to leave without saying hello to everyone” She put her freshly filled cup down on the table and twisted in his arms. Her mouth connected with his, and just like that, the loud music and people faded into nothing. The only thing that mattered was the way her fingers played with his messy waves and how her tongue worked with his. 

  “Then again.” Ginny pulled back, a coy smile on her slightly swollen lips. “I could make rounds and be ready to leave in fifteen.” 

  Harry kissed her again. He couldn’t believe that only a year ago she’d found him skulking in the corner of this very room, hating everything and everyone. She made him feel like he could deal with anything, all of the crowds, any bad nights that happened. 

  Harry shifted his attention from her mouth, up her jaw, stopping beside that cluster of freckles again. “Shall we dance, first?”

  Ginny let out a low laugh.”Hell yeah.”

[archaeopter-ace]

⭐star⭐ for Autoeponym

😁 Alright!So, there were a lot of topics that I couldn’t quite decide between when it came to this Director’s Cut, so I might end up writing out some follow-up posts because whynot

I get a lot of comments on my research and how I tie together science and magic, so I think I’ll start there.

First off, I love how fanfiction can be such an interactive experience, that gives authors an easy platform from which to show their research, the work they put in, or just some of their thought processes. I mean sure, some authors put notes at the end, especially if they’re writing YA historical fiction or hard SF, but that doesn’t feel as organic to me, and often feels driven by a desire to educate. Fanfiction author notes, on the other hand, can be ‘hey, did you know this cool fact? it’s not essential or anything, just some fun trivia.’ 

As a fanfic writer, I think I first saw heavy use of incorporated research in Vathara’s works, and I fell in love with it as a writing style. I would say I’ve been strongly influenced by her works in a number of ways, like the advantages to keeping a close POV and letting a character’s experiences and expertise guide their thought process; that it’s fine to assume your readers are smart and can keep up; and ways to bridge the supernatural/science divide (I’m thinking of ‘Project Tatterdemalion’ and ‘To Be Invisible’ in particular). Also: hybrids. Lots and lots and lots of hybrids and xenobiology, it’s great.

‘Embers’ takes a nuanced view of hybrids with an understanding of how genetics work, and why a hybrid could be more or less alright but that hybrid crosses - the offspring of two hybrids - can be viable but messed up in lots of ways because gene complexes can get broken up, which are usually inherited as individual units from one parent or the other (because you inherit one set of chromosomes from each parent, and gene complexes are related genes, close together on a chromosome). But the gametes (egg or sperm) of hybrids are made by meiosis, a form of cell division which has this step called ‘crossing over,’ which means the chromosome pairs line up and then swap bits back and forth, to create a new chromosome that isn’t an exact match for either of the parent chromosomes which make up its own genome. Sorry that this gets so technical, but basically because a hybrid’s chromosome pairs might not be organized exactly the same way, sometimes essential complexes can be broken up. 

Analogy time! For a not-hybrid: It would be as if both your parents kept DVDs on the top shelf of their bookcases, and you inherit one bookcase from each parent. You can only pass on one bookcase to your kid, so you randomly switch back and forth as you grab movies. Your new bookcase will look different, but it will still have all the essentials - a documentary about birds, a space opera, a buddy cop movie, a drama tv series, etc. Which buddy cop movie, specifically, might differ, but the point is you have one

For a hybrid: One parent kept DVDs on the top shelf, and the other kept VHS tapes. You can still turn out alright, since each of your two bookcases has a complete set of everything you might need. If you need a movie about birds, you pull from the DVD bookcase. If you need a movie about the Vietnam war, you pull from the VHS bookcase.

For a hybrid cross: When your parents were preparing their bookcases to pass on to you, they grabbed DVDs and VHS tapes at random and put them together on one shelf. You do not have a complete set of Ken Burns’s ‘Vietnam,’ because in one of your bookcases Part 1 was replaced with ‘The Empire Strikes Back,’ and in the other bookcase Parts 1 - 3 were replaced with ‘Fast and Furious’ films. (Incidentally, you do not have a complete set of ‘Star Wars’ or ‘Fast and Furious’ either). Hybrid crosses, consequently, can be seriously messed up, if they’re even viable at all.

(There was a hilarious joke in ‘Dave the Barbarian’ where the narrator is listing all sorts of family traditions, and he ends with ‘And in some families it is traditional to be a mule.’ This was a really funny line, but much later, thinking it over, I was like holdonaminute. Mules are horse-donkey hybrids. They are for the most part sterile. It is impossible for there to be a family of mules. Of all the animals they could have chosen for this joke, did they choose the infertile on on purpose, or by accident?)

(Incidentally, yes, in my AU half-changeling!Jim is biologically incapable of having kids for this reason, though that’s not going to really come up)

… I’ve lost a bit of my original thread, which was going to focus more on the philosophy of science but I seem to have gotten lost in the weeds. Ah well. I’ll just finish with this then: I think it’s really important to put science-thinking into fiction. Not scientific facts, that’s less important. Right now, society tends to act like there’s a divide between Science and Creativity, using outdated left-brain/right-brain models as their basis. And perhaps as a consequence, a lot of people fall into the trap of thinking that because they are not a scientist, they don’t have any use for understanding it. Climate denial and anti-vaxx movements have managed to take root as deeply as they have because there is widespread misunderstanding about what the scientific process is, that it has a codified approach to answering questions. You come up with a hypothsis, you test it, you analyze the results - and maybe you change your hypothesis as needed. 

Understanding science doesn’t have to mean understanding a lick of what I just babbled about about genomes and chromosomes. That’s not for everyone, and nor should it be. But appreciating science can be reading about Barbara, who starts by making an observation. She then collects more data, tries to come up with hypotheses which she dismisses one by one as they are contradicted by the evidence she observes. 

Science can be a thought process summed up with ‘trial and error and revision,’ and it can be applied to just about any vocation. Also, science can be an incredibly creative endeavor, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise

[diminuel]

Reading List: April

I missed archiving fics I read in March, but I’m back for April. Some of the fics I might have read in March. I’m still not very good at keeping track of what I read when! But the important part is that you get some fics to read! ;D

I’ve added the archive warnings in the brackets in case there were any, but didn’t include the tags. So make sure to read them.

Enjoy! ♥

bring it on home by xylodemon (2.4k)

"She ─" Sam grimaces again. "She likes tea, right?"

Dean hesitates. He pictures their old kitchen in Lawrence ─ the floral wallpaper, the walnut cabinets, the pots and pans hanging on hooks. Sheer, white curtains had hung in the windows, and Mary had left them open because she'd liked plenty of sunlight. It had smelled like coffee in the mornings. Dean had always lined his army men up on the table before eating his Cheerios.

"I don't know," he admits. "She ─ maybe."

Soft and gentle, but also slightly melancholy coda fic for 12x02

The One: Supernatural Edition by motorbike_on_the_avenue (73k)

The One is America's #1 dating show!

Twenty contestants will spend six weeks competing in tasks, to show the American public they should be picked to marry the suitor. Over the six weeks, they'll be voted down till just The One remains...

Dean Winchester is this year's suitor. A 34 year old firefighter from Kansas he isn't entirely sure why he applied to a dating show where he has to get married at the end.

Especially since he'll never have met (or seen) anything about his future lawfully wedded whatever.

But just who will be voted The One?

This is such an enjoyable fic! Dean and Cas don’t even meet each other until the very end, but the premise is so captivating and I constantly was nervous and rooting for my faves *lol*

Kitchen Overhaul by Powerfulweak (Explicit, 20k)

For Dean Winchester, his family’s bakery is his life, even if business is tanking. When his brother volunteers them for the reality show “Kitchen Overhaul”, Dean is less than enthusiastic with changing anything about his beloved bakery. He is even less enthusiastic to deal with the infamously icy host, Chef Castiel Novak.

Just like the previous fic on the list, this fic also has a TV show format as the premise of its story, but it’s more in the background. I loved this a lot! I got frustrated because of Dean, then because of Cas, but it’s all very rewarding!

Peak Homosexual by K_K_TiBal (3.7k)

You know that thing that happens where you hear something really homophobic in public so you gay it up as much as you can? This is that story.

Cute, pretend relationship fic! ♥

Neighborly Behavior by Annie D (scaramouche) (1.8k)

Cas and Dean at a neighborhood potluck, in an AU where they're both kinda assholes.

It’s hilarious and always good for a re-read!

Dean's Table by through_shadows_falling (4.9k)

On Castiel’s first day waiting tables at the Roadhouse Diner, his co-worker tells him to save a spot for Dean, a young veteran with a cane who sits in the same corner booth every day. Dean doesn’t talk, but Castiel’s charm soon works its magic until Dean reveals that he’s there to reconnect with his brother after a painful falling out. Castiel hopes Dean will succeed, even as Castiel's roommate, Sam, visits the diner one morning.

Lovely story about Cas easing Dean out of his lonely shell. And it also includes a happy reunion.

The Glen by Annie D (scaramouche) (3.2k, Explicit)

Dean's run out of excuses to not claim Cas, so he finally does. Better late than never, right?

This is actually set after a previous story, which focuses on Sam and Kevin. It might be slightly confusing without the previous part but I think still an interesting read, especially with the following part!

The Shop on the Corner by CasCase (18.6k, Mature)

Two years ago Castiel left behind his job and his past to fulfill his dream of opening a neighborhood bookshop. Now, his shop is popular and he’s finding himself fitting in with his new community. He’s perfectly happy with his quiet life among the books.

Perhaps the only thing that could make it absolutely perfect would be the attentions of Dean-the-Delivery-Guy. But, of course that means Castiel will have to work beyond his own insecurities to find a way to see the gorgeous man more than once a week.

Maybe he should stick to the books after all.

This was fun and lovely and even though there’s a bit of angst and pining involved, Dean’s gentle patience were lovely!

In Someone Else's Life by blue_morning (4.5k)

Cas never believed in love at first sight, but when he accidentally crashes a wedding trying to keep his brother out of trouble, it happens to him. Happy ending, right? Yeah, except that the man he falls for just happens to be the groom.

Light-hearted misunderstandings (mostly Gabriel’s fault) and an absolutely hilarious ending!

The Return Policy by aileenrose (12.9k, Explicit)

"Most of his visitors are academics. They come from universities all over the nation, sometimes beyond. Others write books. The man in the Reading Room today is neither. He’s a tall, irritated man with a federal badge."

The federal agent's partner is usually the one who does the research. And even though Cas doesn't think this man is a real federal agent, he's happy to help where he can.

A great read, close to canon, with lovely atmosphere!

Do You Need a Stepdad? by supernatural9917 (1.8k)

When Claire Novak tweets a picture of her dad cooking, she didn't expect to go viral, or for everyone to be quite so hot for her dad.

Based on a photo prompt: Teenager Claire posts a snarky tweet about her single dad Cas, and gets this response. She says ‘LOL no he’s gay’ so Dean tweets to ask if she needs a stepdad!

It might be short but it’s incredibly delightful! 

How to Keep Time by aileenrose (6.6k, Mature)

Dean's just beginning to learn that some times are more precious than others.

Very touching fic, featuring homeless Cas making beautiful things and Dean having to (re) learn what’s truly valuable.

The Neighboring Perspective by aileenrose (12.7k, Mature)

Dean's newly single, in a new house, and a brand-new father to boot.

Dean's also got this weird thing where some stranger is leaving baby clothes on his porch at night.

A very lovely fic with Cas breaking my heart with his softness and his sadness...! ;w;

Best You Ever Ate by darkforetold (1.7k, Explicit)

Cas sucks—under a table at Ma's Diner.

A PWP! :D

For Science by shiphitsthefan (6.1k, Explicit)

“Think of it like an experiment," says Dean. "You’re testing a hypothesis as to whether or not a desirable response can be achieved through the stimulation of the anus via the application of a willing volunteer’s muscular hydrostat.”

Cas raises an eyebrow. “Are you actually trying to use the scientific method to talk me into letting you lick my asshole?”

It might sound like a cracky PWP, but it’s not! It features ace!Cas and Dean figuring out their sexual relationship. It’s sweet and funny~

Remarkable by shiphitsthefan (3.7k)

It’s only Castiel’s first day as a teacher at All City Elementary in Sioux Falls, and he’s already been warned by four teachers, the guidance counselor, the principal, and the librarian to watch out for Ben Braeden’s father. Unluckily for Castiel, Dean turns out to be just as “helpful” as everyone’s said, bringing in stacks of literature and just as many ideas for how Mr. Milton can encourage his students to be more socially conscious. Castiel dismisses him every time with hardly a second thought.

When Ben brings in his Patriot Day essay assignment, Mr. Milton can't help but change his mind.

I love how passionate and insistent Dean is about social issues. And the way the other teachers speak about Dean makes me sad, but at least Cas makes an effort and the whole fic is very sweet and uplifting!

Made Manifest by schmerzerling

Wherein Castiel defied God for Dean before Dean even knew his name.

I was craving trans!Dean fic and this was recommended to me. It’s really good, focusing on Dean up until Cas pulls him out of hell and recongizes Dean for who he is. Dean, not Deanna.

Low Battery Blues by destielonfire (4k)

Wherein a dead phone battery ruins an otherwise perfectly good and well-intended joke and causes Cas to think Dean broke up with him.

Misunderstanding with a happy ending!

Parent's Weekend by Piper_Halliwell1979 (1.7k)

Claire needs a "dad" to come meet one of her professors during Parent's Weekend at college. She can't get hold of Cas so Dean steps up to help her out. Turns out Claire wouldn't mind if she had two dads.

Dean and Cas both pretend to be Claire’s dads!

This Is Gonna Have Consequences, Kid by omgbubblesomg (Explicit, 3.6k)

Modern AU. Dean is looking for someone to spend the night and Cas is working the streets

PWP with sex worker Cas, featuring younger!Cas and older!Dean.

The Ritual by HazelDomain (Explicit, 9.6k // non-con cw)

The Winchesters were used to being outnumbered. They weren’t too worried about taking on humans, numerous though they may be. It was the ritual’s mystery guest that concerned them. 

Their intel wasn’t good. They knew the cultists needed the participation of some incredibly powerful being in order to complete the summoning. “Powerful” and “being” were both very loosely translated, as was “participation.”

I was on a hurt!Cas kick and this story has plenty of it. Cas was abducted by a cult and then found by the Winchesters once it’s been mostly completed. See the archive warnings (graphic violence and rape) and further tags!

Finding Courage by DarkHeartInTheSky (26.3k)

By allowing Lucifer to use him as a vessel, Castiel helped eliminate the Darkness and saved the World. But it may have been at the cost of Sam and Dean's friendship. Deciding he has nothing to live for without that, Castiel plans to end his life on his terms and be at peace---if only a certain ghost of an archangel would leave him alone. Meanwhile, Dean needs to learn to use his words.

A Supernatural "It"s A Wonderful Life" AU

More hurt Cas. Dean reacts very negatively once Cas is free of his possession, sending him away. As a consequence Cas tries to commit suicide and is given the chance to either die or return to life once more. It takes a while to convince him that he hasn’t lost everything. It’s sad but it has a good ending.

Specimen Two Eighty Five by HazelDomain (Explicit, 8k // non-con cw)

Prompt: Cas gets taken prisoner by the MOL or some other people. They lump angels in with all the other supernatural creatures, and believe they’re little better than animals. They keep Cas restrained and burn or tattoo warding on him. They talk about him like he can’t understand them. They strip him, examine him, make him manifest his wings. He can’t escape, and every day brings new mistreatment and misery.

Hurt!Cas and tortured Cas seems to be the theme of my reading at the end of April. What I particularly like about this is the non-linear narration!

Womb Kindred by Annie D (scaramouche) (Explicit, 33k)

It was probably too much to hope for that Castiel's once-betrothed, Dean of Winchester, never found out that they had a child together.

I adore this fic and the last chapter was recently posted. So it’s on my to re-read list! It’s got a very interesting setting and there’s constant tension between all the characters. Cas has been hurt in the past and while he is fierce in guarding Claire, there’s a sad resignation about him. And about Dean as well. They’re pretty much walking on eggshells around each other all the time and then they get flung into troubles which readjusts their relationship. While it has a good ending, it’s clear that it’s not a perfect happy ever after. 

Pining Sickness; Or, Murder With One Stone by athaclena, iraeim (Explicit, 57.8k)

New York, 1895. The rigid customs of the old century are beginning to fall away, allowing access to the professions for more people than just Omega men and Alpha women. Dean Winchester, the city’s first Alpha male Detective, uncovers evidence that a mysterious new illness killing mated couples might have its origins is the criminal rather than the medical.

Castiel Novak is a respectable Omega doctor who has started to see patients dying cruelly of something he cannot cure or even effectively treat. Approached by the Detective to once again give his medical expertise, he is eager to work towards finding a cause and, he hopes, a cure for the unfortunate sufferers. But both men harbour a secret attraction towards the other, and the quest for the truth will stretch their relationship beyond its limits.

A historical murder mystery set against a backdrop of a non-traditional Omegaverse.

I absolutely adored this fic! It’s got a historical setting and a very interesting world building which, as the summary advertises, features a non-traditional distribution of roles, with omega men at the top of society. The case itself is interesting and you just get a massive dose of pining between Dean and Cas, but it’s a quiet, resigned kind of pining, that really pulls at your heart.

Take On Me by Powerfulweak (Explicit, 46.4k)

Alpha Dean Winchester figured the closest he’d get to the apple pie life and fatherhood was a one-shot, “wham-bam-thank-you-mam” trip to a sperm bank. That is, until he comes face-to-face with the omega carrying his pup on a fateful trip to the grocery store. When the the omega runs off without a word, though, Dean learns the situation is far more complicated than he expected. Can an anonymous sperm donation and the favor of a lifetime help two complete strangers find everything their life was missing?

A fic with an unusual premise that just promises a “it’s complicated” kind of situation! There’s plenty of very intriguing angst, but there is a fluffy happy ending!

Marry Him by ProLazy (2.9k)

Jimmy is sick and asks Castiel to do him a favour. This results in Dean mistaking Cas for Jimmy and explaining that he wants to marry Cas.

A cute sort of mistaken identity fic!

Left Behind by Aini_NuFire (6.6k)

Sam and Dean saved Lucifer from Amara. They just assumed that meant they’d saved Cas too…

(Author needs to vent some angst, but there’s still a happy ending)

That last part of the summary pretty much describes this fic. It’s a gen fic, addressing the fact that Cas often gets forgotten or left behind, especially in this whole Lucifer and Chuck fiasco. ;w;

Captured by bobertsmallismydad (6.2k)

On a day when he is taking a break from Heaven Castiel is captured by the order of the Royal Court aka King "Dickbag" John Winchester. He is forced into servitude as a . . . nanny?

This has a very interesting premise! An enslaved angel having to work as a nanny? Great! Castiel is captured by king John (a douchebag) and tasked to watch over Dean, which he does, over the years. Until Dean himself becomes king.

Choice and Precious Vessels by justabrain (11.2k)

In a world where angels wear collars to suppress their powers and are subservient to humans, a young Castiel finds himself serving a family with two young boys, Sam and Dean. He soon befriends the older of the two, yet all good things must come to an end.

Another gen, Cas whump one. It’s a sad story in which angels are slaves and even though Castiel’s situation improved when he is being bought by the Winchester family, Cas still isn’t treated with dignity. And while the story promises a happy ending and it does have a happy ending, my soul wasn’t quite soothed. ;w; All the damage had been done and nobody makes reparations for it. But despite the sadness I do think it’s a great read!

the worst week of dean's life by jhoom (1.7k)

Dean’s son is driving him crazy.

Super cute, poor Dean is so frustrated because he can’t get his son to call him dada.

Moonlit Sky by hollyblue2 (1.1k)

They'd been busy on their actual anniversary, so Dean decides to make it up to Castiel.

A soft and fluffy story, good for the heart!

Dean's Carol by BurningTea (17.9k)

Dean has learned that a hunter can't have close friends or loved ones, not without being ready to lose them, so he decides it's safer for Cas not to be around.

Can the traditional visits from three ghosts change his mind?

Dean has to learn an important lesson! I love how it takes the story of the christmas carol and putting it into a canon compliant universe, where Dean is aware of what’s happening because he knows the story.

[stennnn06]

Fic/AU where Lena finds out Kara is Supergirl because they always wear the exact same earrings (especially when Lena sees Supergirl wearing the same ones she bought for Kara for Christmas/her birthday/an anniversary.)

So, my hand slipped. Also on AO3.

LENA

It starts as a little…experiment. Harmless, really. Just piqued curiosity getting the best of a scientist and deep feelings getting the best of a girl. But Lena Luthor is fairly certain, with almost publication-worthy amounts of data, that Supergirl and Kara Danvers are the same person.

She eventually scrapes enough evidence together to turn this into a full-blown theory.

Exhibit A: The fact that they’ve never been in the same room at the same time. Gala events, L-Corp news conferences, the alien invasion. Never once do the two cross paths, despite similar interests. Similar invitations. Even similar proximity, just never side by side. Yet Supergirl somehow always shows up when Lena needs her, with a penchant for proclaiming her innocence in a very Kara Danvers-esque way. Peculiar.

Exhibit B: The fact that Lena has caught Kara, on too many occasions, slipping up in flustered, adorable sentences that make little to no sense. It’s only after hours, when Lena is alone, replaying their conversations, that the turn of phrase strikes her as odd. She’s confident buses don’t fly, and that Kara doesn’t traditionally drink coffee at midnight. She’s pretty sure “golly” went out of style years ago, and then of course there’s still that small unsolved mystery of the frayed wiring of her alien detection device. Intriguing.

Exhibit C: The fact that no one should be able to eat the amount of junk food that Kara does and look like that. Anyone with a primary diet of pizza, potstickers and donuts should barely be alive, let alone functioning at Kara Danvers’ level of energy. Further, Lena is positive Kara actually goes out of her way to avoid vegetables completely, which is evident by her meltdown over the kale incident at brunch. Lena laughs at the memory, and Kara’s horrified face, but then quickly files it away for later – mostly for how unfair it is that Kara hates kale and somehow still has the abdominals of a god. Well, rumored abdominals. It isn’t like Lena’s really seen them. Or felt them. Or thought about feeling them.

Exhibit D: The fact that they both have exceptionally strong arms, and happen to give some of the best hugs in the universe, because they’re warm and strong and….. Maybe not scientifically accurate, but it’s a hypothesis that has been tested under multiple conditions and Lena is secretly adamant about this last fact.

All in all, the evidence is stacked in favor of Kara being Kryptonian, but it’s not enough to keep Lena up at night.

(Fine, it keeps her up at night, but she hardly sleeps as it is.)

But the main piece of evidence, the one that launches this entire investigation?

A pair of earrings.

Several, actually.

Five, to be exact.

Lena tries not to make a habit of noticing everything Kara wears, but attention to detail is something she prides herself on. It’s the scientist in her. Not to mention, she can’t really help it. Kara’s just so lovely and her hair is so golden and her face is so soft…

Lena sighs. It’s really ridiculous how smitten she is with her best friend, and maybe she would be dealing with that more if she wasn’t also semi-convinced that this same best friend is also a super hero. But, such is life. Anyway, earrings. Kara and Supergirl have, on more than one occasion, been known to sport the same pairs of identical earrings. It seems trivial, and Lena has even spent more hours than she cares to admit wracking her brain for the explanation to how Supergirl could even have her ears pierced. (Lena’s conclusion is that it happened on Krypton before arriving to Earth. The only logical explanation).

The first few times it happened, Lena chalked it up to coincidence, because there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the earrings in question. Simple studs, occasional small pearls, nothing out of the ordinary. Perfectly reasonable to expect they might share similar fashion tastes and a modest price range.

But something about it just seemed…off. So, she took fate into her own hands.

Now, it’s just a tradition.

Earrings for birthday presents. Earrings for Christmas. Earrings as ‘thank-you’s’ and earrings as ‘just-because’. Along with her signature bouquets of endless flowers, Lena has single-handedly transformed Kara’s earring collection from sparse to overflowing in the matter of a year. It’s a pretty impressive accomplishment, even if she hasn’t particularly caught Kara in the act yet.

Which is why this year, she’s going for it.

This year, a huge part of her motivation for buying Kara some over the top earrings for Christmas, ones that could never, ever be mistaken for an ordinary pair, are specifically in case a certain caped crusader also decides to wear them. It’s deceptive. It’s sneaky. It’s something a Luthor would do. Except…

The remaining motivation, and some could argue, the majority of it, is that she is hopelessly head over heels in love with Kara, and dropping the equivalent of a rent check on some jewelry doesn’t even come close to showing her true feelings.

But that’s not the point.

~*~*~*~*~

KARA

“Lena! I can’t…”

“You can…”

“I really, really can’t…” Kara sputters, handling the sparkling, flawless and oh so expensive looking diamond earrings in her hands. She’s already afraid they’re going to break if she looks at them the wrong way, let alone actually putting them on. But Lena’s there, and she’s so sincere and thoughtful and she’s looking at Kara with those eyes, urging her to take them, to just accept them as a gift. A gift! More like the equivalent of her paycheck for the next several months, but Kara can’t say that out loud. She can’t refuse this. In fact, Kara has never been able to say no to that face. Instead she stammers and blushes and fiddles with the box and tries to avoid that look. “They probably cost a fortune!”

Lena quirks her perfectly manicured eyebrow at that, a smooth, smug smile flickering across her lips, before it’s immediately replaced by something softer. Gentler. Concern, but also– doubt? Oh, no, that’s not what Kara wanted. The earrings are perfect. Lena is perfect. But how can she actually accept these?

“Kara, it’s Christmas, and where’s the fun if you can’t just indulge once in awhile?” Lena’s voice is smooth and silky, like Kara’s favorite type of hot chocolate – the kind they sell at Noonan’s with the extra dark chocolate and the extra, extra marshmallows. She eyes the contents of the box once more. They’re spectacular, and it would be rude to say no, right?

“Thank you, Lena, but you didn’t have to do this,” she settles with instead, and the smile is back on Lena’s face, which immediately warms Kara’s chest.

“I know, but I wanted to. You deserve it,” Lena insists, the small crinkle in her forehead prominent, the way it always is when she’s trying to emphasize a point. Mostly when she’s trying to assure Kara of something, which is happening more often these days.

Kara wants to relax and enjoy the moment, but her mind is whirling on super speed, processing what just happened. She chastises herself for the matching ugly sweater idea that was going to be part of Lena’s Christmas present, scrapping that plan immediately. It’s impossible to follow up diamond earrings with a picture of Grumpy Cat on a sweater, no matter how funny she found it only a few days ago.

What does it all mean?

Alex, for one, is never going to let her hear the end of this. But friends buy each other presents all the time, don’t they? It’s Christmas! She just happens to have a billionaire for a best friend. One with incredible fashion sense and who sometimes forgets the value of a dollar. A gorgeous, brilliant, generous and amazing best friend that perhaps recently she has been harboring some not-so-best-friend feelings for. But it’s Lena, and she’s in a category all her own.

It’s really not that complicated when you think about it.

Sirens go off in the distance interrupting their quiet little moment. National City’s never-ending alarm.

Kara’s heart drops. It’s the reminder of that little secret she’s still keeping from Lena. The one she’s going to have to tell eventually, before she actually tells her that other thing about her feelings.

Okay, so it’s a little complicated.

~*~*~*~*~*

LENA

It takes twelve days. Not bad, all things considered, with holiday parties and game nights and wine, so much wine. But it takes twelve days to catch Supergirl with Kara’s diamond encrusted earrings. Another investment, so well worth it.

Lena is back at L-Corp to finish some late night paperwork. Her old office is still the only place she can think clearly when there are pressing deadlines, and fortunately, it’s vacant on account of Lena begging Sam to take a much needed night off.

A familiar breeze rustles outside, before a quiet ‘thump’ signals a visitor landing on the cool concrete floor of the balcony. Lena’s lip involuntarily upticks into a satisfied smile. Her cheeks flush the way they always do in response to a surprise visit from the caped Kryptonian.

“Supergirl!” Lena greets, turning in her chair to face the back door. Supergirl easily walks through. Strong. Confident. Hands on hips, like she belongs here. Lena swallows delicately. “How did you know I was here?”

Supergirl turns and offers a small, playful smile of her own, which Lena takes to mean she isn’t here on any official business.

“The lights haven’t been left on in your office at this hour for months, I knew it had to be you,” she says, striding over slowly. Her hair is perfectly windswept and curled, and Lena barely hears the end of her sentence before she’s imagining what it would be like to run her fingers through it for hours.

There’s silence, as Supergirl eyes her curiously, and Lena immediately snaps out of her dangerously wandering thoughts.

“Guilty,” she says, and it has more than one meaning. She’s about to say something else, something probably intentionally flirtatious, when it happens. She inhales sharply.

Lena has prepared for this moment. She’s rehearsed her movements, and practiced her lines and hell, she’s even dreamed about what it would mean. But when it happens, and the diamonds catch the light just right, twinkling at her from the nest of charmingly golden locks of hair, Lena freezes. Her heart stops.

Kara is Supergirl. Her Kara is Earth’s champion, the girl of steel. Lena is in love with an actual super hero, and somehow, it doesn’t dawn on her until right this very moment.

A Luthor and a Super, in so many more ways than one.

“Ms. Luthor, is everything okay?” Supergirl’s head tilts in confusion as she looks at her with inquisitive eyes and pouty lips. That doesn’t do anything to help Lena’s mind begin processing coherent thoughts again.

“Oh yes, fine. I was just–” Lena pauses, inhaling a shaky breath. She clenches her jaw. She stands and slowly closes the gap between her and Supergirl. She reaches a trembling hand out slowly and hooks her fingers carefully around Supergirl’s ear, admiring the jewels in question. “Those are some exquisite earrings. You certainly have good taste.”

She thinks to be angry, for a moment. Kara has been lying to her, after all. But a quick look into those gentle blue eyes – the ones she would recognize anywhere, now that she’s actually looking – and all traces of anger simply disappear.

“Oh I–I um–” Lena can hear the hitch in Supergirl’s breath as her eyes dart from side to side in silent panic. “I borrowed them–from a… a friend…”

“A friend,” Lena deadpans, her eyes trailing over the Super’s stubborn face. Kara isn’t going to make this easy. But Lena isn’t one to back down from a challenge.

“From Kara,” Supergirl corrects.

“She’s incredibly generous,” Lena replies, unconvinced.

“She is,” Supergirl agrees, her voice quieter than normal. “Maybe not as generous as you, though. She told me you um– you gave them to her.”

Lena eyes her cryptically. She wonders if she should start talking about herself in the third person, too. A little bit of that good Luthor snark, just to see how Kara would respond. But she bites her tongue and offers a cool smile instead.

“I did,” Lena says, her confidence growing by the second. “You know, I picked these specifically because they remind me of her eyes.”

“They–they do?” Kara gulps, and Lena takes far too much pleasure in watching her throat bob in nervous tension.

“But I suppose you can get away with wearing them too, you both have such beautiful eyes,” Lena continues, very much aware of the fact that her hand is still cupping the side of Kara’s face, daring her to say something, or back away.

Daring her to move.

~*~*~*~*~*

KARA 

She knows why she came here.

At least, she thinks she does. But her mind is shockingly blank as she stands in Lena’s office, late at night, with nothing but Lena’s ruby red lips and sly, captivating smile, the one that always seems to be on the verge of spilling an innuendo and setting Kara’s nerves on fire. Kara is getting better at relaxing around Lena, sometimes. But then there’s other moments when her face just looks like that, and she stands just a little too close and…

The plan really was to come clean. To tell her about this little side gig of a job she has, and hope to Rao that Lena would understand. It’s just that something else happened to do the talking for her. Apparently, these diamonds really do come with a price. How had she forgotten to take them off?

Lena is looking at her with such an endearing look in her eyes, and her fingers are still tracing over the outline of Kara’s jaw, and everything is so unbelievably warm and her lips look so incredibly soft…

“I can’t do this,” Kara whispers, pulling back from Lena’s grasp and wincing as she does. It’s almost physically painful to position herself out of Lena’s orbit, but it’s necessary. She has to tell her. “Lena, there’s something I have to tell you.”

Lena’s eyes narrow, as her lips purse in thought. She crosses her arms tightly across her body, in a classic Lena pose, the one that makes her seem primed for a rejection. Kara is already wishing she could rewind and start this entire scenario over again. She doesn’t want Lena to feel like this, even for a second.

“It’s…me,” Kara fumbles awkwardly, unsure how to even get these words to sound remotely correct. She wrings her hands and clenches her jaw and shuffles her weight, somehow all at once. “I’m Supergirl. I mean, I’m Kara. Kara is Supergirl. I’m…”

Lena softens immediately, dropping her arms to her sides. She smiles, shaking her head gently, as her eyes scan the ground. They flutter up eventually to meet Kara’s own. She’s grinning that dimpled grin, the one she gets when she’s genuinely happy, and Kara can’t help but mirror the same face because it’s so much better than yelling. “I’m…so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner…” Kara offers, still, just to be safe.

“Finally,” Lena chuckles, her eyes sparkling in pleasant amusement. “I really thought I’d have to buy you earrings forever.”

An awkward laugh escapes Kara’s throat.

“Finally?” Kara asks, stunned. “You mean you knew? How?”

“Well, I had my reasons, which I can certainly talk you through at some point,” Lena grins mischievously, and Kara begins to realize this has been going on for much longer than she ever expected. “But I have to admit, it was the earrings that tipped me off. You and Supergirl have worn the same earrings consistently. I sort of took it from there.”

Kara can feel her cheeks burning in embarrassment as she registers just exactly how she’s been had. Lena is still looking at her with a strange expression, like she’s seeing Kara for the first time. She is, in a way, Kara reasons. But there’s something more behind that look. Lena shifts and smiles.

“Is there anything else, Kara?” she asks, her lips forming around her name slowly and purposefully. It makes Kara’s heart flutter nervously.

There are several beats of maddening silence, or what would be silence if Kara could get the thunderous sounds of chaotic heartbeats out of her head. She can’t decide if it’s hers, or Lena’s, or both, but it’s an encouraging sign that they both seem to be a little on edge. She needs to just…say it. I’m Kara, I’m also Supergirl, and I’m also in love with you. There. She’s already halfway there.

“Go out with me!” she blurts instead, completely unprovoked. Nailed it.

Lena looks startled for a second, registering Kara’s brash command before her lips twist in knowing contemplation.

“I mean, I’d really like to take you out, like, on a date. With me.” Kara clarifies. Slightly better, but not by much.

Lena takes a step forward, putting herself inches from where Kara is standing. She replaces her hand back along the side of Kara’s face, where it’s still burning from the ghost of her fingertips a few minutes earlier. Her eyes slowly draw from Kara’s lips to her eyes and back again, seeking a small confirmation before closing the gap between them for good. Kara’s hands immediately wrap around her waist, pulling her in as close as possible. She doesn’t even realize she’s floating until she feels Lena smile against her lips.

“Is that a yes?” Kara whispers along Lena’s mouth once her feet manage to touch the ground again.

Lena kisses her deeper, nodding into Kara’s grip, the smile never leaving her face.

“Does this mean no more earrings?” Kara asks, her brow furrowing in thought when they both finally come back up for air. She really does like the way Lena picks out the nicest jewelry, even if Kara doesn’t have a prayer to ever return the favor.

Lena laughs, and the sound of it makes Kara smile so hard, her cheeks ache.

“I think we can come up with an arrangement,” Lena acknowledges, kissing Kara’s cheek once more. “There’s always anniversaries, right?”

[richincolor]

Book Review: Meet Cute: Some People Are Destined to Meet

Title: Meet Cute: Some People are Destined to Meet Author: Sona Charaipotra, Dhonielle Clayton, Nicola Yoon, Ibi Zoboi and others Genres:  Short Story Anthology Pages: 320 Publisher: HMH Books for Young Readers Review Copy: ARC from NetGalley Availability: Available Now

Summary: Whether or not you believe in fate, or luck, or love at first sight, every romance has to start somewhere. MEET CUTE is an anthology of original short stories featuring tales of "how they first met" from some of today’s most popular YA authors.

Readers will experience Nina LaCour's beautifully written piece about two Bay Area girls meeting via a cranky customer service Tweet, Sara Shepard's glossy tale about a magazine intern and a young rock star, Nicola Yoon's imaginative take on break-ups and make-ups, Katie Cotugno's story of two teens hiding out from the police at a house party, and Huntley Fitzpatrick's charming love story that begins over iced teas at a diner. There’s futuristic flirting from Kass Morgan and Katharine McGee, a riveting transgender heroine from Meredith Russo, a subway missed connection moment from Jocelyn Davies, and a girl determined to get out of her small town from Ibi Zoboi. Jennifer Armentrout writes a sweet story about finding love from a missing library book, Emery Lord has a heartwarming and funny tale of two girls stuck in an airport, Dhonielle Clayton takes a thoughtful, speculate approach to pre-destined love, and Julie Murphy dreams up a fun twist on reality dating show contestants.

This incredibly talented group of authors brings us a collection of stories that are at turns romantic and witty, epic and everyday, heartbreaking and real.

Review: I found the premise of this collection of short stories a fun idea as one of the most intriguing aspects of romance is the fun and unique ways couples meet. Folks always ask couples for their “meet cute” story, so to have a entire short story collection of diverse meet cutes makes for some great winter break reading (at least for me). Not all the stories were sugar sweet; some had some deep questions about identity, fate, the notion of friendships, etc. The genres of the stories were diverse too, as not all stories were contemporary; there were some speculative fiction stories, some fantasy (or felt like fantasy), which I greatly enjoyed as the “meet cute” is a trope that is in all genres. There were a few stories that truly stood out to me, making me invested in the characters so much that I was disappointed that all I got was their meet cute story.

Dhonielle Clayton’s “The Way We Love Here” was a sweet story that challenged the notion of destined lovers. The story is set in a world where people are born with markings on their ring finger which fade as they age and come closer to meeting their beloved. Our two main characters aren’t looking for that day but end up learning what they will mean to each other. Both learn that their future will one they could not have expected, but that they will always be in each other's lives in some way. I love how this story challenges the concept of “happily ever after” and that the future we believe we dream of when we are children become vastly different than what we could ever imagine.

Another favorite of mine featured a kick ass mathematician who decided to use statistics and probability to determine if she would ever meet the cute guy she had a chance meeting with on the subway. Jocelyn Davies’s “The Unlikely Likelihood of Falling in Love” follows the main character as she decides to write a term paper about the chances of meeting someone twice in New York City. We follow her as she develops her hypothesis, runs her tests, and lastly, her conclusion. It is a fun read as she theorizes about the cute guy and the different results of her tests to see if she would see him again. I loved this story because I loved that the main character was a math whiz and looked at the world very analytically. She was also the only girl in her class, but did not receive any negative push back from her classmates. This story was also fun in a “will she succeed or won’t she” way that made me really question if a meet cute was every going to happen.

Meet Cute is an anthology you must read slowly, taking your time to savor all the different stories and how they incorporate deeper themes all within the fun story of “how did this couple meet.”

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Willing to Learn

A Vision x Reader Fic Request

For @this-kitty-has-claws because she whines but I love her, and she convinced me Vision needed more fiction.

Pairing: Vision x Reader   |   Word Count: 2800 Warnings: none, just fluff and stuff

You were standing in the kitchen, lit only by the glow from the stove, eating a bowl of cereal over the sink as you tried to slow your racing heart. You knew better. Oh how you knew better than to watch a scary movie by yourself at eleven o’clock at night, but nearly everyone was gone from the compound, and you’d really wanted to see The Conjuring which everyone else had watched without you when you’d been off on a mission for Fury.

Now you were halfway through and scared stupid, wolfing down cereal because your freaky ass stomach had decided it wanted food, requiring you to walk through the compound, alone, in the dark, at night, by yourself, to get something to eat. It was horrifying to realize A the compound was far bigger than you’d thought, and B the place was fudging scary at night. Had it always had so many shadows? Did it always make those noises? Were those footsteps or were you imagining things?

When the hand came down on your shoulder, you screamed like a banshee, bowl, spoon and cereal going in the sink with a shatter of glass as you spun to defend yourself from the witch come to possess you only to come face to face with Vision.

“Holy shit!” you squealed, grabbing for your chest.

“(Y/N)? Are you alright? I noticed elevated levels of cortisol and a rapid increase in your heart rate, and came to see why you were in distress?” He peered curiously into the sink. “Did the cereal somehow… threaten you?” His strange but beautiful eyes seemed to twinkle with amusement.

“Ha! You’re so not funny,” you grumbled, turning to clean up the mess when he batted your hands away.

“You will only cause yourself damage in your nervous state. Let me.”

Rolling your eyes, you went to the freezer and pulled out a pint of Tom and Jerry’s, still needing to fill the void and opting for comfort food after the fright of your life. “What are you doing skulking around?” you asked, leaning against the counter and eating straight from the carton.

“I do not skulk. I was reading when your presence disturbed me.” He glanced at you, brow arched accusingly.

You looked down at your ice cream. “Oh,” you murmured. It was very hard to get a read on Vision. The others, you knew, all liked you well enough to laugh and tease and joke. You were part of the team, mostly normal with a few special quirks that came in handy on missions. If it wasn’t for the bullet that had clipped your upper arm a week ago, you would have been out with Steve and Bucky and Sam like always.

Still healing, you’d been taken off the roster until Bruce, Wanda, and Nat returned from their mission, and Bruce could give you the all clear. Any doc could, technically, but you preferred Bruce. He wouldn’t bullshit you about your progress. If he didn’t like the healing, he’d tell you.

You weren’t quite sure why Vision was here when Wanda wasn’t. Usually wherever one was the other wasn’t far behind.

Their relationship was another you’d had a difficult time understanding. They were so close you’d originally thought they had a thing, but a giggling Wanda had only shaken her head.

She and Vision had been through a lot together, good and bad, and were indeed very close. She may love him, but she wasn’t in love with him. Her sly grin showed she was well aware of why you were asking, setting you blushing and stammering before you’d run very quickly out of the room.

He was such a sweet guy, Vision, but you always felt ever so slightly chastised by him. It was subtle, but it picked at your confidence. Tonight was clearly no different.

“Sorry for disturbing you.” Turning away from the kitchen, you headed back toward your room with your tub of ice cream.

“I did not mean to send you scurrying away, (Y/N),” he said as his long red fingers wrapped around your wrist.

“It’s fine.” But you didn’t look at him, only at the slowly melting ice cream.

“Will you tell me what truly upset you? Perhaps I can assist.”

A flush darkened your cheeks. “Made the mistake of watching a scary movie by myself. Don’t worry about it. I’ll leave you to your reading.” Pulling away, you headed back to your room, a little less scared, replaced by sadness and disappointment.

The trip back, though faster, was no less unnerving as you made your way through dark corridors and down deserted hallways, the glow of security lights and emergency exits the only ones to guide your way. There was little point in turning them all on, wasting power, when it was just you, well, and Vision, but he could see perfectly fine in this lighting.

Walking into your room, you sighed, prepared to return to your movie and not sleep for the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.

“This scary movie…”

His voice coming from the darkened corner made you shriek a second time.

Evidently prepared, he was there to catch the tub of ice cream and your spoon before they could hit the ground.

“Goddammit, Vision! What did we say about doing that?” Again you stood holding your chest, fearing for the heart trying to hammer its way free.

This time he could not contain the chuckle your terror caused. “Apologies. I will endeavour to remember in the future.” He drifted closer.

“You have a perfectly fine, functional memory. I think you do it on purpose!” you groused, flopping to pout on the couch.

A smile twitched his lips as he sat beside you. “As I was saying, this scary movie, is it the one the others watched without you?”

“Yeah. I really want to see it, but damn… she's scary!” you said, tucking into the bucket of chocolate chip goodness once he handed it back. “Bite?” you asked without thinking, used to sharing your food with whoever was with you. But you rarely saw Vision eat and flushed when you realized you'd offered not only the ice cream but a shared spoon. “Never mind,” you murmured, drawing your offering back.

His warm fingers wrapped around your wrist. “Wait. I am not familiar with this flavour. Wanda prefers the cherry kind.”

You watched him lead the spoon back to his mouth, eyes locked with yours as it slipped between his lips.

He had such a unique face. Strong lines and interesting structures. The red and silver colours did nothing to detract from his features, you actually found them enticing. He may be different, but he was still handsome.

“Hm. Interesting,” he murmured when he released your hand.

Drawing the spoon back swiftly, you blinked at him before finding your voice. “Better or worse than Cherry Garcia?”

“Different. I think… I prefer the chocolate chips.”

A radiant smile bloomed upon your face. “Really?”

“Indeed.” He settled further into the couch. “I've heard tell if one watches a scary movie in the company of another, especially one of masculine persuasion, they are less likely to be afraid. I would test this hypothesis if you'd allow me?”

You weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth and scrambled for the remote. “I'll even share my ice cream,” you beamed at him, scooting up on the couch, so your legs were curled beneath you, knees pointed his direction.

It wasn't until he shifted to drape his arm along the back of the sofa you realized just how close he was. “I would expect no less from you,” he said softly, turning his attention to the movie.

The soft words made you wonder, but you pushed them aside in favour of asking, “Do you need a rundown on the movie to this point?”

He only looked pointedly at you, causing you to blush.

“Ah. Right. Computer brain with the crazy WiFi access. Never mind.” You dug out another spoonful of ice cream and pressed play.

The movie started again, engrossing you enough to have you forgetting it was Vision sitting at your side. When he wanted ice cream, he simply commandeered the spoon, no different than Bucky or Steve. When the tub was empty, and you'd jumped for the third time, you didn't remember the thigh you were gripping didn't belong to Sam.

The squeak of fright left you, and you buried your face in the argyle sweater vest, finding yourself wrapped up in strong arms which offered comfort and protection but weren't Thor.

Throwing your legs over his, you watched the rest of the movie from the safety of his lap from behind the screen of your fingers until the witch was finally defeated and you relaxed your tense muscles as the volume was lowered by his hand on the remote.

“Fascinating,” Vision murmured.

All your slowly softening muscles became rock hard in an instant when reality returned. Turning to look up at his incredibly close face, you swallowed in unease. “What… what is?”

“You reacted no different with me then you would with any of the others once the movie took your attention. I had wondered.” He seemed genuinely puzzled about why that was.

“I… don’t understand,” you frowned.

His arm was still wrapped firmly around your back, the other across your thighs, hand resting on your hip. “In our day to day interactions, you rarely have contact with me. With Steve, Bucky, Tony, Wanda, even Thor who you see far less frequently than I, all receive your affection so easily… but not… me.”

Surprise filled you, he appeared almost… hurt. “Vision?”

His hands flexed as if he was inclined to draw you closer. “What did I do to make you dislike me?”

You gaped, shocked beyond words. “I don’t!”

This time he frowned, eyes locked intently on your face. “Now I do not understand.”

When he made to shift you from your position, you grabbed onto his sweater with both hands. “Wait! No, I…” you swallowed, dropping your hands to your lap, watching them twist together. “It’s not… not what you think.”

“Then… what is it?”

Sighing, you wish now you had let him shift you away, perhaps it would have made this easier. “I do like you, Vision… quite a lot actually,” you whispered.

“Excuse me?” he sounded shocked.

“I like you.”

“I am… uncertain what to do with this information.”

Blushing fully red, you shifted, trying to remove yourself from him.

“Wait.” His arms tightened.

“Why? I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough.”

“(Y/N), I seem to always be chasing you away.” He drew you closer, right up against him.

“What… what…?” you gasped, hands coming up to press against his chest.

“I am not yet as adept at speaking my thoughts or my… feelings as I would like.”

Wide-eyed, you could only stare into his electric blue eyes, mind numb, until your brain kicked back in. “What? What are you saying?”

“It seems as I have failed in speaking my desires, I have been just as terrible at showing my interest.”

“Yah think?” you muttered, making him flinch and look away. “I thought… I thought you didn’t like me.”

“Why would you ever think that?” His eyes darted back to yours.

It was your turn to look away. “Because… I seem to always be inept to you. Couldn’t even clean out the sink tonight,” you muttered. “You tend to… scold me…” The lightbulb in your brain went off. “You’re trying to protect me.”

He nodded slowly. “I find it very… disheartening when you are injured.”

“Really?” you asked, smile growing.

His brow arched. “You find my disquiet over your injuries pleasing?”

“No, no, no.” You reached up and hesitantly touched his face.

Eyes closing, Vision leaned into the contact, rubbing against your palm in little nods which set your heart fluttering.

“The fact that you care pleases me,” you whispered.

The hand at your hip lifted, mirrored the touch you had on his face. His thumb traced your bottom lip. “(Y/N) I am… uneducated in the ways of romance and love. I fear I will not make a very pleasing… suitor.”

You smiled at the old-fashioned term. “You been talking to Bucky about this?”

“Steve,” he admitted.

“What was his advice?” you asked, figuring you already knew.

“He thought it would be best if I stayed back, spent time with you away from the others.”

“Good advice,” you agreed. “Anything else?”

“Sam said…” if an android could blush, he would have, “if I really wanted to know if I had a shot, I should just kiss you and see what happened.”

You’re breath hitched softly in excitement. “Why don’t you try it and find out.”

His thumb swept your lip again, pulling down on it just slightly, and sending your heart rate skyrocketing. Red lips descended tentatively, hesitating just before they touched yours, and you closed the distance.

It wasn’t fireworks and earthquakes, but it was sweet, tender, and so very gentle. It melted your heart. “Vision,” you sighed when his head lifted.

“I am not well versed in this new path… but I’m willing to learn if you’ll teach me.” Earnest eyes and a soft smile were your undoing.

Shifting around, you straddled his lap and ran your hands lightly over his smooth head, following the lines of silver in his skin. “I’ve always been one to believe in hands-on training,” you said with a smile before sinking into his mouth and showing him what he’d been missing.

When you broke some minutes later, needing air, he looked remarkable hazy-eyed, a flirty smile on his lips as his hands caressed your thighs. “That was… fascinating,” he murmured, making you chuckle.

“It gets better,” you promised, rocking your hips.

His hands gripped you tighter. “(Y/N) I... am more than willing just… not yet.”

Cupping his face, you kissed him with all the care you could muster. “That’s fine.”

“You’re not… upset?”

“No, Vision.” you shook your head. “I care for you, a lot, very deeply. I’m not going to rush you into anything.”

He relaxed muscles you hadn’t realized were so tight. “There is something else.”

You placed a finger on his lips. “I understand.”

He was an android, created to house the consciousness that had been Ultron. While he may be willing, he was not able in the most carnal sense.

“When you’re ready, you need only ask, and I’ll grant you your heart’s desire,” you smiled with your words, for, that was your gift, your quirk of nature. For one hour, you could give people their greatest desire. Once the hour was up, everything returned to the way it once was. They didn’t call you Genie - or in some cases Fairy Godmother - for nothing. And while you could grant the same desire repeatedly, it only ever lasted a single hour.

It made you invaluable on missions. Need to be invisible? Poof! For an hour you could be so. Run out of bullets? Never ending ammo for an hour. It had taken time to train the others to block out their personal desires to be able to get what they needed in that instant, but for Vision, personal desires wouldn’t be a problem. If he wished to be simply able or wished to be fully human, the option was his, but either would be fine for you.

He pulled you closer, eyes full of warm affection. “Thank you,” he whispered before kissing you again.

When you broke apart the second time, a yawn escaped your control, and Vision was lifting you from the couch with ease.

“You need sleep,” he said in the same chastising tone as before, but now it meant something different.

When he settled you on your bed, you reached for his hand. “Stay? I won’t sleep if you go, not after that movie.”

“Is this another custom? My presence, somehow, counteracts the nightmares you may have in regards to the movie?” he asked, already settling to the bed behind you, pulling you into his warm chest.

“Mmm,” you nodded, snuggling back into his big spoon position.

“Very well,” he murmured, nose tucking into your hair where he rubbed it slowly and closed his eyes.

He didn’t sleep in the traditional sense, but he did occasionally power down.

The next morning when Wanda, Nat and Bruce returned early, it was Wanda who came upon your open door and just happened to peek in.

She smiled brightly, happy to see the two of you snuggled up and dreaming after so long of dancing around each other. Before Nat or Bruce could notice, she slipped out and shut the door, unable to contain her grin.

-The End-

[rebeccaheyman]

reading + listening 9.29.20

It was another week of soaring highs and middling mediocrity, but fortunately no DNFs. Notably, I’ve been dragging my heels on PIRANESI by Susanna Clarke, which has been sitting on my desk in gorgeous hard cover since release day. You ever want to love a book so much that you’re afraid to actually read it? No, no, me neither. Here’s hoping I get brave this week. In the meantime...

It’s Been a Pleasure, Noni Blake (Claire Christian), eBook ARC (US pub date February 2021). I loved this book so much that I’m already looking forward to owning the aBook once it’s available, just so I can relive the magic in a new way. Here’s my five-star NetGalley review: 

I have discovered the antidote to the unmitigated disaster that is the year 2020, and it is IT'S BEEN A PLEASURE, NONI BLAKE. I inhaled this book in under 24 hours and feel soul-satisfied in a way I forgot existed. NONI BLAKE is a rom-com that's so much more than a rom-com; it's as much a character study as LESS and as much a travelogue as WILD, with the sweetness of Mhairi MacFarlane, the delicious heat of Sally Thorne, and the humor of every best friend you've ever gotten drunk with. It is, in a word, perfect.

When I say this book has it all, I am not kidding. In it, you will find: - an average-bodied woman finding sexual empowerment and body positivity - a Scottish book boyfriend for whom you do not need to travel through time - healthy adult friendships - A+ Bechdel Test score - adventurous, consensual sex that is at times hilarious and at other times really, really hot - situational comedy that will legitimately make you laugh out loud - adults who talk openly about their feelings in an authentic, mature way - portrayals of grief that range in severity from mourning the loss of an unborn child to coming to terms with years of self-criticism and negativity - rich, descriptive prose that does not drag down pacing - excellent plotting, perfectly balanced with the protagonist's complex internal journey

...the list goes on. This book is joy exemplified. I can't wait to give it to every woman I know. My only complaint is that the world needs this book immediately to inoculate us against the tidal wave of awfulness bombarding the globe, and yet it won't be released until 2021.

Notably, Australian readers have access to NONI BLAKE as of... today (!), so if you happen to be reading this in Australia, please do yourself a favor and buy this book immediately. And if there’s someone you especially like elsewhere in the world, maybe box up a copy and spread the love.

Act Your Age, Eve Brown (Talia Hibbert), eBook ARC (pub date March 2021). I know, I know -- how many contemporary romcoms with the exact same title structure can I read in a single week? Real answer: 2. But based on how fabulous both these titles were, I’m open to more. Here’s my four-star NetGalley review:

I've decided it's entirely impossible to read the Brown Sisters series without feeling amazing. Hibbert's writing is so smart, funny, and full of A+ banter -- not to mention scorching-hot heat -- that it almost feels like we don't deserve her books' nuances, diverse representations, and patriarchy-shaking feminism.

But we do deserve it, actually, and it's all there in ACT YOUR AGE, EVE BROWN.

If at first Eve seems flighty and difficult to connect with, don't discount the intentionality of her characterization. In a tidy narrative trick, Hibbert gives us the very experience that defines many of Eve's friendships: while the youngest Brown sister may have made a great first impression in Chloe and Dani's books, her flightiness feels off-putting once she takes center stage. But sticking with Eve -- instead of pushing her to the margins of our two-person social circle -- has a massive pay-off, as she soon reveals herself to be intensely focused on helping others, spreading joy, and baking delicious cake. It's a side of Eve too many of her "friends" never get to see -- but Reader, we do. And it turns out, Eve is a wonder.

Many of Eve's quirks align with behaviors on the autism spectrum; while Jacob's autistic presentation is perhaps more conventional, Eve's traits are equally validated by Hibbert's sensitive, nuanced treatment of the disorder. Romance + autism usually means antisocial behaviors, rigidity, and/or Asperger's-like presentation (The Kiss Quotient/Bride Test, The Girl He Used to Know, The Rosie Project... the list goes on). But ACT YOUR AGE explores the all important "spectrum" side of "autism spectrum disorder," and urges us to resist believing we understand what these labels mean just because we understand one small aspect of a very large picture.

All of this happens while a truly compelling, heart-melting romance unfolds. Eve and Jacob are incredibly fun to watch, and Hibbert keeps things moving at a lovely clip. I especially appreciated her resistance to the "h/h have to spend totally unnecessary time apart after an argument/misunderstanding" trope in Act III, which is a convention I would happily see go the way of the dinosaur.

Fair warning to your TBR pile: If you don't reread Chloe and Dani's books prior to picking up ACT YOUR AGE, EVE BROWN, you're going to want to afterward. There's simply no other way to maintain the rosy glow of post-Hibbert reading.

Finally, I'm predicting here and now that Mont, Alex and Tess are the next sibling trio to get the Hibbert treatment. (Please? Like...PLEASE please?)

Set My Heart to Five (Simon Stephenson), aBook (narr. Christopher Ragland, Rachael Louise Miller, Lance C. Fuller). If you combined the signature humor/love combo of David Nicholls, the deeply felt nostalgia of Ready Player One, and the bots-with-feelings hypothesis of Spielburg’s AI, you might come close to understanding what makes SET MY HEART TO FIVE so good. In the year 2054, the world has taken some unexpected turns: humans have accidentally locked themselves out of the internet, Elon Musk blew up the moon (also accidentally), and humanoid bots have been integrated into society as second-class pseudo-citizens. We meet Jared -- bot, dentist, cat-owner -- who has begun to experience curious malfunctions. With a friend’s help, and a heaping dose of old movies, Jared realizes he can feel real emotions. He resolves to journey west to Hollywood, where he’ll write a movie that changes the way humans view bots and paves the way for his bot brothers and sisters to enjoy the full range of human experience. 

Jared’s explanations of human behavior provide a satirical commentary on our curious, often contradictory behaviors (”Humans. I cannot!”). Since films from the pre-bot age figure so prominently in Jared’s emotional awakening, that same satirical analysis is applied to movie synopses, which are rendered with necessary frequency but occasionally feel like overkill. The book relies heavily on a lovely trick of narrative reciprocity; Jared is on an archetypal hero’s journey, even as he strives to write a formulaic screenplay according to the “golden rules” of the fictitious script expert, R.P. McWilliams. But SET MY HEART TO FIVE never feels hackneyed, and in more than one way proves the rule that great stories are all in the telling.

With the innocence and clarity that can only come from being something of a stranger in a strange land, Jared embraces his existence with infectious enthusiasm and charm. It’s virtually impossible not to cheer for his success, even as we’re warned again and again that a great story will “eff us in the heart” at its conclusion. Audio is brilliantly narrated by Christopher Ragland, who manages to imbue the bot cadence we expect with believable nuance and big style. 

Well Played (Jen DeLuca), aBook (narr. Brittany Pressley). I’ve got bad news for fans of WELL MET: If you wondered whether your enjoyment of Deluca’s ren-faire romcom debut of 2019 was due in large part to the book’s setting -- and more specifically, the way h/h’s interactions at the faire advanced the storyline -- the answer is yes. And why is that bad news, you ask? Well, because WELL PLAYED has none of the crackling Emily/Simon tension that carried the first book through its narrative stumbles. In book 2, the glacially slow Act I relies heavily on Stacy’s recitation of what makes her life humdrum, and a long series of email exchanges we *know* are coming from the conspicuously introduced Daniel -- even though Stacy, apparently suffering a traumatic brain injury, convinces herself it’s idiot playboy (and Daniel’s cousin) Dex. Sorry not sorry for the “spoiler,” which is impossible not to see coming from many miles away. Once this pseudo-conflict is resolved, the book boils down to situational fluff: a wedding, a squeaky mattress, the literal number of pumpkin spice lattes Stacy drinks over the course of a month. If it sounds like this is not a plot, that’s because it isn’t. The romance is low-stakes, the “uncrossable divide” that eventually separates h/h is the width and depth of a puddle, and the last third of the book is pretty much solely devoted to setting up a Mitch/April romance in book 3.

Notably, I found references to Stacy’s body-consciousness extremely strange. If we want to normalize average-sized women in romance, maybe we do that by not including, apropos of literally nothing, how “unflattering” woman-on-top sexual positions are?! Stacy is not characterized by self-consciousness, so the moments when her interiority veers toward self-criticism don’t feel necessary. I’m not saying these aren’t authentic thoughts and feelings plenty of women have, but an editor should have pushed DeLuca to answer the question to what end? Why include body hyperawareness in the precise moments when it appears? Like too much of the prose in WELL PLAYED, these inclusions felt like word-count boosting instead of dynamic character development or plot production. Sad as I am to say it, this book was a missed opportunity that shows the danger of rushing book 2 to market. 

The Lady’s Guide to Celestial Mechanics (Olivia Waite), aBook (narr. Morag Sims). This book has been on my radar since its publication last summer. Gorgeous cover aside, I’m always here for diverse historical romance. Sadly, for me, the external stakes here were simply too low, and relied overmuch on the baffling revelation that men -- especially in this historical moment --  underestimate and undermine women. I never felt discernible chemistry between Lucy and Catherine. This could be due, in part, to Morag Sims’ narration, which pitches Catherine’s voice in a low, husky range that accentuated the women’s age difference. From the outset, we learn that Catherine is the widow of one of Lucy’s father’s colleagues; while Lucy is the more sexually forward woman in this partnership, there’s something a little An Education about the whole arrangement. 

On my radar this week:

Piranesi (Susanna Clarke) 

A Deadly Education aBook (Naomi Novik)

We Can Only Save Ourselves ARC (Alison Wisdom)

Angel in a Devil’s Arms (Julie Anne Long)

The Project ARC (Courtney Summers)

The Love Square ARC (Laura Jane Williams)

[tentativi-vani]

The Journals Of Nabokov's Lolita If She Had Become A Writer

Losing bits of your character as of now in adolescence.

Toward the finish of each journey in my adolescence, there was a line that was consistently an excruciating encounter for me in my awareness growing up and with time its power and thwarted expectation increments. It has instructed me that solitary knowingness and culmination can start with the way of mindfulness. What's more, presently that organization, compromise and sympathy in this despite everything isolated society on this landmass that we live in drives us to become together and see each other in an all the more genuine and precise light. It is a method of seeing individuals in networks who live in neediness, the lucidity of battle, the dullness of routine and who are famished of craftsmanship, verse, and writing. It is a method of winding up ready in an exhilaratingly delicate world, yet they just hear the forlorn hints of sobbing and it has become like a machine. Its persona fortifies our spirit.

All kids are lovely.

We can decide to see the scene we live in as a desert or a heaven yet what do the most weak residents of this planet consider it to be? We can't tackle the raising issues of today without envisioning and picturing the final products of arrangements. In any event, composing accompanies its own fanciful command hierarchy thus we should make new pictures of our life and foundation through our accounts, the abundance of our aggregate beneficial encounters. There are still sentiments of dread and weakness that constantly tests us, the way of thinking of man, the life systems of depression, our different personalities, contemporary man and it is an incredible dynamic for any essayist and artist to live in today. Life mirrors workmanship and craftsmanship impersonates life in funny, emotional and appealing ways. What is mankind? It is the fragile human bones of the human condition, it is you and I and it is every one of our accounts. The page is just a dead scene until you top it off with words and language making a focal point of intrigue. On a fundamental level would we say we are still war youngsters?

I lift the perfect exchange of the psychological ropes and the chains (it's an improvement). It is a solitary a tune of gloom from my youth experience that took me to dim places and saw me cross the lines of society Loose Diamonds, the fringes of streams of light that navigated the palimpsest of the red segments of my heart. This exchange felt like a mystical thing. I went from remaining at the edge, to opportunity (with all the pieces of the machine, a mantle, and all the pointless pieces of fantasies, making engravings of circles in the sky over a tempest, seething a sleeping disorder). Something changes when we become more established. Individuals feel alone in various manners as they set down in haziness, slide into a posture more than once; hear me out, focus.

Will I leave you speculating the power behind my words? Will you grasp me when I fall, my craft, this strong vessel and an artist in her overlaid confine, venturing onwards into insensibility? I motion to the moon and stars and back once more, similar to a memory nailed down in a stream. A mother's ready substance, a neck, words that are flying like bats help me to remember how rapidly love goes to despise. Pale in charming representations of deliberate misdirection and the heart develops severe and cold like a lake, which is when sadness and franticness falls in on itself and crap will in general hit the fan. The house is falling, tumbling down around me, similar to the tune that originates from fingers on a guitar or a fire that has a negative quality to it, more separated and delicate. Stunning is the stun of injury when you're in it.

Try not to assemble it for the good of I. I softened where my skin contacted the skin of water. Under I was more human, bolder yet still lost and cheated. My ardent like day off, could detect corridors turning white. What was previously a red impetus seeping in quieted tones is presently Braille, wet and clashing, advising me that there were despite everything weapons at each ascending of the sun. Try not to assemble it for the good of I. Regardless of whether I needed them to be there or not, whether I needed to wake up or not. It is just my appearance that is dead in the water.

Try not to assemble it for the good of I.

Scholars are generally explorers with clean recognitions, lucidity of vision when confronted with the equal world, components of the most obscure pieces of mankind. Hello, 12 PM. We hold each other up with the customs of open investigation; disclose to ourselves analysis will be the passing of us (what does that intend to the most unpracticed). I need to suffocate. I need that experience. The experience of being constrained to forfeit that exquisiteness of the unpleasant round of interfacing certainties to the legislator who is at the center of you. No half-life lived for me. Give me a manual for being delicate, so I can impair and address all the data easily on these virus lines. Let me diary them. Peruse everything Africa and you will win in light of the fact that since youth you have been a well-suited student emptying your insight into a distillate, remaining at the edge. In the event that it was distressing, left you with the endowment of euphoria at and memory of the phantom of potatoes and meat on your plate. In the event that you feel haziness in snapshots of being, on the off chance that you feel the loss of your self image, it lessening and that the main belonging you will leave this world with is your physical body, at that point this is an excursion you should stay faithful to its aggregate advancement. At the point when I don't eat, when I don't rest an insight is ice cold through and through, given substance in the frenzy. There's a purpose behind all things everywhere. Liberation consistently prompts discussion regardless of whether it is on the opposite side of the world.

The inquiry I pose to myself frequently these days is, what are different journalists thinking, inspecting here, what do their spirit's resemble, what is the most graceful/emotive thing to originated from their experience and what is the most consecrated thing to them and about the data they are giving me through their abstract world? We're perched on a great many long periods of creation here; workmanship, earth, sky, precious stones, rage, writing, vision, women's liberation, summer, journalists, essayists, authors composing. There's an essayist brought into the world consistently. Above all we need one another. Hello, 12 PM, hour of blue. I find in that still life calm the essayist's spirit yearns for, the quiet that resembles a horrible scar before it marks itself as asylum, it oversees itself as an extreme sentiment of happiness, a chasing custom, an otherworldly ceremony, a phenomenal condition of quiet in that personality of all characters that is made without outskirts, joints where there is consistently a persuading space for delightful learning.

I regularly wonder at the family and foundation, the self-evaluation of African essayists and ponder internally that the voices, male and female will intertwine in a consecrated agreement and their narrating that will develop, will rise (with a word that has become natural to me) as a system. We will thrive, cross that all inclusive limit together, changing, holding onto the turning web of history, turning out to be writing questioners of the personal, cooperative with the virgin birth of translation with the unknown, the inventive fantasy, blessing and the imaginative drive falling into entire interminability. Would it be advisable for us to call ourselves outright and basic essayists? Which is the most real? For what reason would it be a good idea for us to mark ourselves? A home of essayists is a significant network, similar to mind will regularly meet like psyche. A people group of essayists is a home any place you wind up on the planet.

Our placid age composing generally out of rebellion is making the reason the announcement, the stage 'the waves'. In the event that our dream is enclosed by stone, at that point so has been duplicity, character hypothesis, social and political editorial for, on the off chance that our spirit is the apparition of our soul, at that point what we have realized should either be protected or go underground. That is the undisclosed magnificence of and the ruthless viciousness in mortal reasoning that we are consistently in flexibly of. This excursion is an old one, savage and forlorn. The example of the meditative instrument appended to the lucidity of light is intense in the vision of scholarly creation and pen-and-watercolor creative mind for what it's worth to the clouded side. The supporting speculative chemistry the trial develops without edges and decimation is providing us the insight into the leave, a plea to eternality.

Youth has shown me the way to forfeit. Of where essayists of shading will manufacture realms of gold where nobody can contact us. I compose in light of the fact that I am told to and on the grounds that it is the aggregate pieces of my journey. It is a melody of despondency from youth experience, a concealing spot, where I feel alone in various ways, where I talk with my hands, a distillate in a no man's land of bits of gossip about dimness and hard giggling. On the off chance that I am not composing, at that point I am not living, my brain isn't free, a comedian not understanding his objective perfectly. It is simply a perspective on life through a viewpoint where I now and again feel helpless before the occupants, an outsider in their abnormal world, sick from living the picture of metropolitan burnout. The street of recuperation is hard, endures you from back to front.

Underneath us, the surface is us journalists' continually making assessments, chasing the unicorn, the flight, the string, the mishap of the kaleidoscope suffocating in us and the life of kismet, long for speed, pleasantness in the stomach. So we become the sun, the stars that sparkle impeccably and boundless, the impression, the flawless channel, the feathered tufts of affection. We become more others conscious with the guide of seeing our two eyes, the apprehensive, here and there neurotic vision in our inner consciousness. What is the circumstance? We are the circumstance. What is the contention? We are the contention and both are inward, both have frightening clarifications, both consume and as we follow that light as it bobs off marvels, we store it or relinquish it. We're Masai-dreaming-philosophical-mode, indications of vertigo appearing on the other side, transforming individuals into objects however this is writers specialty - we foresee, we get ready for it, the missing connection, the vindication, and the remainder of the human opportunities, to pick your mentality among history and remembering it.