#is not a direction i would have taken the story in

[seitmai]

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it. Because he was looking at you.

He is so whipped 🤭

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

Carole would slap him from beyond the grave

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

Just some little coincidences 🤭

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

That's some dedication, I respect that

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that." You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways. And then your eyes drop purposefully down. The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top. "You wouldn't," he rasps. "I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him. "Sweetheart, c'mon." "Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?"

Not even those baby cow eyes can convince her, which is unstable when it's about Penny's rules, I wouldn't dare going against them either (not even for a pair of baby cow eyes) ☝🏻

"I think you enjoyed that." You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

Big bonus of that job, I would enjoy it immense every time hehe

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special." "Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease.

Facts 🤭🤷🏻‍♀️

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me." He leans in closer. "And what's that?" You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

I can't decide if I wanna be her or be with her 🤭🤔

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.” You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

Rooster is like:

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

This made me giggle

I loved this story so much!! She is so smooth and Bradley is so in love, the perfect combo for amazing banter 👏🏻

A prompt party, Alexa? How in the world did I miss that? I'd be over the moon if you could write a little something for Bradley + "i’m gonna marry you one day." 🪩 ✨

Rebecca! Now you know I’m always down to write a little something for a smitten Bradley! I hope you enjoy!

It was a surprisingly quiet night at the Hard Deck.

You could actually hear the music playing out of Penny's old juke box, rather than just the faint essence of notes for whatever oldie was queued up over the usual rowdy ruckus. And there were more empty chairs scattered about than there were taken ones.

It was one of the rare rainy days they got in San Diego. The gray skies and drizzle driving even the best of Uncle Sam's finest under blankets and curled up on couches.

Bradley always liked the moody weather. He liked the way the clouds seemed to cling to the coastline. He liked the rough rolling waves as they broke against the shore with more force than they usually did.

But he wasn't look out the bank of windows out towards the beach, in fact, he had his back turned to it.

Because he was looking at you.

Bradley had been trying to ask you out for the better part of two months now. And he was starting to think that you were giving him the runaround.

He'd learned that first evening that you were only filling in as a favor to Penny- she and your mom went way back as sorority sisters- for a few months as Jimmy recovered from his knee replacement surgery.

Under normal circumstances, he’d take the hint and move on. And even if his mom hadn’t raised him right- which she had- Rooster knew that just because someone was nice didn’t mean they were interested. Especially when it was their job.

But he couldn’t kick the feeling that there was something there.

All he needed was one date to prove it.

It was more than the way you always seemed to catch him looking, because you were looking right back. Or the way you’d slip him a free drink every now and then, saying it was on the house. Or the way you found a way to brush past him a little too close whenever you'd swing by with more peanuts for Bob or a fresh round of drinks for his friends.

You were so damn smart and funny as hell. He’d taken to spending less time on his ESPN app and more time on the NYT trying to find interesting topics to get to spend a extra few minutes with you. Nothing felt better than earning a smile from you.

But any time he got close to asking you out or asking for your number, you were pulled away by something or another. The sound of broken glass. A pointed throat clearing from a thirsty patron. An emergency trip to the storage closet.

Rain was good luck in some places, and Bradley needed all the luck he could get. It hadn’t been on his side in the past two month, but tonight was his night. He was sure of it.

Especially considering he was the only person seated at the bar.

You'd been popping out and checking on people, delivering refills personally to the few people who had braved the elements instead of having them come up to the bar.

Rooster was patient, he didn't mind waiting his turn. After all, he had a shiny new NYT subscription to keep him company.

He smiles to himself when you work your way back to the bar, grabbing the bowl of limes and a cutting board, and setting up right in front of him. He watches as you deftly slice and quarter the limes into wedges, their bright scent clinging in the air.

“Why does it feel like I’ve seen less of you tonight than I do when this place is packed?” Bradley asks, saving the article he was midway through before closing out of the app completely.

“I’m just a one woman show here tonight, I told Penny to stay home." You're tidy and efficient in the way you store the prepped wedges and work to clean up the already immaculate bar. "It's means a bit more running around for me. But I don't mind, I like to keep busy."

"So I've noticed."

You look up at him from under your lashes, as you wipe down the prep space. "Have you been keeping tabs on me, Rooster?"

"Now I know you're teasing me." He sets his phone down and levels a look at you. "Because we both know you catch me looking often enough to know the answer to that."

You press your lips together, but the corners curl up anyways.

"Oh, Bradley," you say with a soft sigh. "Bradley, Bradley, Bradley..."

And then your eyes drop purposefully down.

The two of you stare at his phone sitting on the shiny bar top.

"You wouldn't," he rasps.

"I think I'm legally obligated to. There's a very official wood sign and everything." You look the picture of innocence, but you don't fool him.

"Sweetheart, c'mon."

"Are you asking me to bend the rules for you? Just because Penny isn't here?" You tsk, with a self-satisfied smile. "And here I thought you were a Boy Scout."

Bradley just shakes his head amused as you sashay up to the bell and give it a loud, long ring. A couple whoops go up in response, but no one gets up. Yet.

You walk back towards him with an all too pleased smile.

"I think you enjoyed that."

You smile wider and don't deny it. "I can't lie, it is a fun perk of the job."

He sighs. "And here I thought we had something special."

"Stop that, you're too pretty to pout," you tease. "You gave me no choice. I don't make the rules, I just follow them. And as much as I love Penny, I have a healthy dose of-"

"-fear-"

You smirk. "I was going to say respect. But also you're not wrong."

"And what about me?" he asks, sitting up straighter on his stool. "What are your impressions of me?"

"Oh you?" You tilt your head to the side, letting your gaze linger on his face as you muse. "You look like trouble."

"Do I now?"

"Mmhm. I thought it from the moment I saw you strut through that door." You say it like you're letting him in on a secret. "And there’s something you should probably know about me."

He leans in closer. "And what's that?"

You mirror him, leaning in as well and resting your elbows on the counter. Your face is just inches from his. “I’m really good at getting into trouble.”

He grins. “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You tip your head back and laugh, it’s the best sound he thinks he’s ever heard. 

“That’s a bold statement from the man who still has yet to ask me out on a date.”

He opens his mouth, to do just that, after months of failed attempts. And then another one of the patrons saddles up to the bar, waving you down for your attention.

Rooster groans.

"Alas, it appears I have another gentleman caller," you sing, reaching for the towel and waving it like a handkerchief in his direction. "Guess I'll be seeing you around, Bradley. Maybe at the end of an aisle, who knows, the night is young."

The smile you give him promises that this conversation isn't over yet.

You spin away from him and don’t give him a second glance as you head over towards the thirsty man whose beer is going on his tab, but there’s a sway in your hips that wasn’t there before.

And Bradley thinks to himself, this is going to be fun. 

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I will say, at the end of the day, I am very fond of Illario Dellamorte, despite it all. Yes, he managed to make every single POSSIBLE bad decision one can make, then figured out how to make a few more that nobody else would've thought possible. Yes, he was increasingly sloppy and incredibly stupid about it all. Yes, a lot of his frustration and rage is incredibly misdirected. Yes, I said before the game came out that I support him having a villain era, and I still do because it's fun and I love mess and drama—as much as he stresses me out and makes me want to strangle him because Jesus Fucking Christ.

Still, I think I like the idea of forgiving him. For me, there's something interesting in how he doesn't kill Caterina, in how he didn't ask for what happened to Lucanis and seems genuinely angry—wrong as he is to direct it at Lucanis—that the control that Lucanis so highly prized was taken from him rather than dying at his best, in how he can engineer Lucanis's death but experience a grief that still feels harrowingly genuine at the wake, in how he clearly is grasping at any possible advantage and is carelessly choosing his allies not because he believes in their goals or ideals but because he's desperately power-hungry and ambitious and no more. In how, if he is forgiven, Lucanis is impressed he almost got away with it, in how Illario goes to help the Crows in Minrathous in that last gambit.

He's a mess, and he's selfish and ambitious and vicious and contradictory. But, I have a soft spot for characters like him and relationships like his and Lucanis's, y'know? Forgiving him and forcing him to work out his life after he's burned nearly every bridge he has is just really interesting to me, especially given how Lucanis is still full of hope and affection for him alongside the hurt. How do you rebuild after all that, you don't even have the devil-may-care breezy mask anymore because everyone knows better now. Figure out where he fits now in his cousin's life, because I do think—at the end of the day—the affection and relief is still there from both sides, under it all. Deeply buried possibly, for Illario, but there.

I think there's enough pieces here to suggest that he and Lucanis have a chance to actually figure it out, and to suggest that Illario might actually get his shit together and be willing to given opportunity, time, and patience. It's also a messy choice (and a huge risk), but I do personally like the idea of forgiving him. I like the messy, insane, dramatic narrative of it. He has potential, as Lucanis himself notes. I would love to see if he can rise to it, now that he's gotten all of this out of his system.

Or, at least forgive him because there's something funny about that and I want to see what else he does if given the chance. It'll probably also be a mess, but I'd love to see what messes he gets up to when he's not plotting against the person closest to him in the world. It'll be fun! But, sincerely, I do think he can get his shit together, and I hope and believe he wants to. It's the more interesting and fun story to me, for both him and Lucanis, personally speaking.

[alpaca-clouds]

Let's Talk About "Marvelfication"

Okay, let me try to get this out of my system, because I do have some thoughts on this one.

See, as you know, I finished Dragon Age: Veilguard last week. And I did enjoy the game. I never was that attached to the franchise. I really enjoyed Inquisition back in the day when it came out, but after doing two runs with it never have really returned to it. I also did play one of the older games, though I am not fully sure which one, because it was a long while ago. But I just never got that attached to the franchise. (Which mostly has to do with my own personal issues with High Fantasy.)

But that is not what I wanted to talk about. What I wanted to talk about is more the thing I have seen now multiple people call out: "The Marvelfication" as some have called it. And mind you, I absolutely do agree with this: There were several scenes in this game where I thought to myself: "This feels kinda MCU."

However, what I kinda want to talk about is the specific wording here: "Marvelfication." Because it is super understandable that the first thing that comes to mind (for me as well) is the MCU. But I think the issue is way deeper than "MCU is popular, so let's do something like the MCU".

A lot of folks on Youtube and other platforms have talked about how a lot of "tropes" that people blame on the MCU are actually older than the MCU. The reason people associate it with the MCU is moreso that the MCU is just fucking everywhere since it became this big thing. It is what defines the media landscape.

The big issue actually is another one, though: Those tropes are everywhere because in a more and more conservative media landscape they are considered safe. These types of jokes are not risky in any way. These types of characters are not risky. These types of stories are not risky.

It is stories that are set in societies that are messed up, and then there is a big conflict that only tangentally relates to the ways the societies are messed up in, and then that conflict is resolved but the status quo does not change.

And that more than anything is what I would criticize about the game. Outside of very prominently centering some trans issues, the game has taken very little risks.

I wrote about that a bit last week in comparison to BG3, how safe the companions in Veilguard feel. This shows so harshly in direct comparison to BG3, because really, Larian sat down with player and told you: "Those assholes are your companions. Take it or leave it." Those people I know who never finished BG3 mostly never did because they could not stand the companions. Meanwhile those who, like me, got obsessed with the game, mostly did it because it feels so fucking satisfying when you start to get through to the companions after they started out as those assholes. This satisfaction is something Veilguard never really offers you - because... Well, I can assume that some of these characters had some edges at some point. But whatever edges there had been, those have gotten smoothed down, so now everyone is perfectly sweet. Sure, they might argue a bit here or there, and if you make decisions they do not agree with, they are gonna be pissy with Rook for a bit, but that's the most of it.

Same with a lot of other stuff. There is basically no sexual content in this game. You get one sex scene that is super tame and you see nothing - and one to two kisses per romance. No risk.

Any no matter what kinda choice the characters make, they are all gonna be nice, you know?

There is one thing in the finale of the game that is kinda risky, I will admit. But I will not talk about that yet, because I knwo a lot of people have not finished the game.

But for the most part the game does not risk anything.

And really, that is the core of what folks call "Marvelfication". Because pretty much this is also the issue with Marvel and Star Wars and pretty much all American made media: Outside of some smaller productions, some of which do well with the tumblr crowd but barely get any attention from mainstream audience (*coughs* Interview with the Vampire *coughs*) there is little risk taken. The humor is the same everywhere because this humor is considered safe. The characters feel kinda samey everywhere, because those characters are safe.

It is why I have stopped going to the cinema, because these days there are barely any movies I consider worth watching. It is ironically also why I have recently watched a whole lot more Japanese stuff, because it is easier to find stuff there that does not play it that safe.

It is also why I do these days mostly consume western stuff that has a 18+ rating on it - because at least with that stuff I know that it probably is not gonna play it "safe".

I just wish some media took more risks. I want those medium budget projects back, that cost like 30-50 million, so can make a profit with 100 million at the box office, without doing billions. I want some stuff in there that is not a big IP. I just want... stuff.

Right now I am looking at the soon end of What We Do In The Shadows, mostly because it is one of the few things on right now that does some risky stuff. And I miss those SyFy low budget originals, because some of it was kinda risky. Ugh.

The issue is not Marvel. It is not even Disney. It is that the creative industries in the US right now mainly put out big budget stuff that because of that big budget needs to be loved by everyone.

And look, I am trans. Hence I absolutely do see some value in the fact that Bioware clearly took position and said: "Okay, we get to do one risky thing, so that thing is gonna be to incluse a variety of trans characters." Which I love and respect. But I kinda wish the game had not been quite that pretty and instead also included a bit more edges on the characters.

... But I guess in the end there is still fanfiction, where I can still make the characters messy. lol

[dyns33]

New life

!! SPOILERS - Careful, Venom The last dance spoilers here !!!

I was wondering while watching the movie if that would give me new ideas for Eddie and his tiny alien, and yes, yes it did.

When Y/N had met Eddie Brock in a New York cafe, he had hesitated at first before accepting her into his life.

It had taken him several weeks to open up, talk to her, understand that she liked him, and then admit that he liked her too.

Once he had offered her his trust, he had explained why to her. Really explained everything, adding that he understood that she thought he was crazy and that she would decide to run away from him when he was done.

First, he had completely ruined his career and his relationship with his fiancée Anne by being selfish and stupid. For a long time, Eddie had refused to see the truth, making excuses, but he had to admit that it was all his fault.

Then, there was Venom. The alien symbiote who had brought as much joy as problems into his existence, before sacrificing himself to save him, along with the rest of humanity.

"He was my best friend." he said, trying to hold back his sobs. "He could be annoying, but I wasn't a gift either. We were supposed to see the Statue of Liberty together, but… Well. I miss him a lot. It's weird not hearing from him all the time. It's hard without him."

Not only did these revelations not scare Y/N away, but she found herself even more in love and touched by this wounded man who was doing his best to move forward despite everything he had been through.

Like a wild animal, it took a little more time to reassure Eddie that she really loved him and especially that he wasn't going to lose her.

For their first date, he offered her an ice cream, not far from Lady Liberty. Y/N took his hand, to support him, but especially so that he knew that she wasn't going to try to make him forget Venom.

Just because they were together didn't erase everything he'd experienced with his alien parasite friend, who was a lot like a boyfriend when he told her all their stories.

"Nah, just a friend."

"You said you loved each other."

"Like buddies."

"You had arguments as a couple. He was jealous and protective. You gave him chocolate on Valentine's Day."

"Once ! And to keep him quiet. And the rest was just a symbiote thing."

"You admitted to me that he 'took care of' your erections when he was in full form. Why did you have erections anyway ?"

"… Shit, I was in a relationship with Vee."

He cried again, in shock. Not because he was ashamed, but because he had not understood the nature of their relationship, much more intense than simple friendship. He did not blame Y/N for opening his eyes, as she did not hold back from doing so, thinking that it was necessary for him to grieve properly.

Several months passed, life continuing in an excellent direction.

After using his contacts and abilities, Eddie Brock had become a formidable reporter in New York, even if he was a little more careful about his methods and the people he wrote about.

In his private life, he made Y/N very happy, learning from his past mistakes to become the best boyfriend possible. No secrets, no lies, no manipulation to get information for an article. They were not in symbiosis, but almost.

Much more relaxed and open than before, he kept his calm in most situations. Even when they had some cockroach problems. Or rather one cockroach problem.

"It's still there." Eddie noted while drinking his coffee, observing the insect that was partially hidden behind the couch.

"Do you want me to call someone ?"

"Nah. He doesn't hurt anyone, that little guy. We don't leave food lying around, we throw out our trash. No point in staying here or calling his friends. He must be lost, he'll leave eventually."

"What if he thinks you're so cool that he tells the others to come over just so he can watch you sleep ?"

"Eww, babe, gross. Listen, if he's still here in a week, I'll take care of him. But it must be a neighbor with questionable hygiene who has a colony, he'll go back there."

The cockroach stayed, but like Eddie had said, he wasn't that much of a nuisance. Most of the time he was nowhere to be found, otherwise he stayed in his corner.

Strangely, he showed up when the couple was together, as if he was waiting to watch them. His presence was still abnormal, in addition to being possibly dirty, so Y/N decided to take matters into her own hands, trying to get him out.

"I know you're the most impossible thing to kill on this Earth." she said to the cockroach that was hiding under the closet. "And besides, Eddie decided he didn't want you to die, so let me put you in this jar, I'll take you to a landfill, and you'll be the happiest little cockroach, okay ?"

Of course, the insect wasn't ready to cooperate, putting itself as far away as possible, in an impossible place to reach. It was ridiculous, but Y/N had the impression that it understood perfectly what she was saying.

Eddie found her on the living room floor, her hand under the closet, trying for several hours to catch it.

"Need some help ?"

"Thanks, Eddie, it's between him and me now."

"Poor little thing that has no chance against someone stronger than them. Accept that he's winning."

"You're hilarious. He's staring at me without moving, he's making fun of me, it's personal. I'm pretty sure I saw him smile."

"You been upside down for a long time, babe ?" he asked as he sat down next to her, rubbing her back. "Come on, I'll take care of it, I'll get rid of the horrible monster."

"No, Eddie… Please…"

It was probably the first time someone had dropped their shoe to cry and try to hug a cockroach, but Eddie being an extraordinary man, Y/N was only half surprised. Same thing when the insect started talking again, small tentacles coming out of it to wrap around her boyfriend. She had thought she had imagined that voice.

Losing its dark color, the creature was thrown out the window, while the tentacles remained around Eddie, before disappearing, as if absorbed by his heart. Then an alien head appeared near his shoulder.

"Wait… Is that Venom ?" she asked, a bit lost. "You told me he was dead."

"I thought so too ! Last time, he was just exhausted but still inside me, but this time… Vee, I thought I'd never see you again !"

"Eddie… I told you it wasn't goodbye. It took me a lot longer than I thought to find you. Cockroaches are tough, but their legs are tiny, not as fast as a horse. And then… I saw you with your new love. So I didn't know if you'd want me to come back."

"But of course I…"

Remembering the discussion they had had, Eddie turned to Y/N, as if he was scared. Now that he knew the feelings he had for his symbiote, without ever realizing it when they were together, it was embarrassing to say that he wanted him back while he was in a relationship with her.

Maybe Venom had insisted for a long time that he get back with Anne, because it seemed to be the key to his host's happiness, but then there had been no one between them.

The alien didn't know Y/N. He had spent several days observing her, seeing if she was good enough for his Eddie, and after accepting that she was a suitable partner, he had wondered if he wasn't going to ruin everything by showing himself.

After all, Eddie had often said that it was his fault that he had lost everything. Venom didn't agree, he knew that most of his host's problems were the result of his bad decisions, but maybe he had turned his life upside down a bit, forcing him to give up certain things for him, like Vee had given up certain things to please him.

A relationship was certainly one of those things. With Anne, it might have been possible since she knew about the symbiote, but someone new ? That would have been hard to sell.

"You told her about me ?" Venom realized as he stared at Y/N. "Weren't you ashamed ? Didn't you repress your feelings because of the stupid social conventions that say men should be strong and insensitive ?"

"Of course I told her about you. I made a lot of resolutions after… After. I wanted to honor your memory, while being honest with Y/N."

"That's good, Eddie ! You're a little less of a loser !"

"Thanks, buddy, so nice."

Poor Eddie grimaced, probably accepting that this insult was a compliment, but Y/N quickly understood that there was a parallel, silent discussion going on between them in his head. She could easily guess that Venom was wondering if he would be able to stay, if she would leave because of him, or worse if his host would have to make a choice, which would make him unhappy.

Ensuring the happiness of his human was so important to him that the symbiote would have been ready to stay hidden under their couch, to be close to him without risking disturbing him. Who could hate such an adorable alien ?

"If we don't adopt chickens, and we buy lots of chocolate, I guess cohabitation won't be impossible." she smiled shyly, before they found the courage to ask her opinion.

"Babe ? Really ?"

"You really chose well, Eddie ! She might even be too good for you !"

"Thanks Vee, really super nice again. But babe, are you sure ? He can be… We are… You can say it if you find it weird."

"It's weird, but it doesn't bother me."

Almost every day, Eddie kissed her tenderly, in the morning, before leaving for work, when entering their apartment, when they went to sleep, but he had never been so passionate when he kissed her at that moment, repeating that he loved her.

As if he had been there forever, the alien had surrounded them with his tentacles in an attempt of a hug, commenting on the scene that he considered the most beautiful and romantic thing he had ever seen, even better than in his favorite telenovela with Maximiliano. He immediately ordered them to watch it when Y/N told him that she didn't know who he was talking about.

Not as invested, Eddie fell asleep on the sofa, keeping her in his arms and snoring lightly in her neck, while Venom explained the previous episodes to her with great excitement, as if everything was normal.

[revelboo]

I NEED A FULL FIC OF GIVE UP/GIVE IN NOW. JUST THE WAY YOU WRITE MEGATRON IS SO GOOD AND HOW HE IS WITH THE READER BECAUSE OF HIS GUILT BUT ALSO HOW HES GROWN AS A BOT. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THE NECT CHAPTER ATLEAST PLEASE.

Give Up/Give In Pt 6

TF Earthspark Megatron x Reader

• Rotors humming, he tracks the minivan back to the Malto’s, never letting it out of his sight even as he sweeps the sky around him for threats. With the Seekers ramping up their attacks, he can’t risk an ambush now. And he can’t figure out Starscream’s game. Bold attacks had never really been his style unless he was sure of victory. These strikes feel more like probing, quickly lashing out to try and cause maximum damage and then warping away. Over and over. Always near human settlements-

• Leaning your forehead against the cool glass, you track that silver aircraft. Even though the fact that he’s following, watching, should probably make you uneasy, you just feel safe. He’d saved you when he hasn’t had to. Heard you and reached out a massive, but so gentle hand. Taken you to help. None of that was really his responsibility, so why had he? You’ve heard the stories of the former warlord. Everyone had. Stories that painted him as a monster, but you can’t convince yourself that this is the same Megatron. It can’t be, those big hands were far too gentle.

• Always near human settlements where the fight will inevitably cause collateral damage and maybe fatalities. Primus. Like what had almost happened to his little ward below with the Malto’s. This isn’t about finding a weakness, it’s about undermining human opinion of Cybertronians. Specifically him. A bid to drive a rift between him and the Autobots, then? Circling lower as the van pulls into the driveway near the house, he transforms as he lands. Sees you leaning on the van’s door, staring up at him with wide eyes as the wind stirred from his rotors whips your hair.

• He’s bigger than you remember as he crouches as if aware of how massive he is and trying to make himself appear less threatening. Even shifting the arm with that big cannon attached so it’s slightly behind him as he holds out the other hand to offer you a single servo. And you’re aware of Dorothy glancing from him to you and back, lips pressing into a thin line like she’s trying to not smile. “Here, little one,” he says and that deep, faintly accented voice strokes over you and calms you, lets you rest a hand on that big servo. Moving slowly forward so you don’t pull at your stitches as you crane your neck. Biting your bottom lip, you shiver as he curls another servo around your shoulders, encouraging you closer.

• Primus, you’re tiny. Dorothy is no bigger, but she never felt so fragile, her attitude and presence her armor to make her seem much bigger. But you? Certainly no warrior as you look up at him with uncertain eyes, but at least there’s no fear there. Stumbling a bit and clinging to his servo as Dorothy starts forward and relaxes seeing that he has you. “I wanted to thank you,” you say and he’d almost forgotten how soft that voice is even as his spark twists. Thank him? Your life had only been in danger because of him. “For saving me.”

• “I shouldn’t have let Starscream lure me into a fight near humans,” he says, deep voice lowering into almost a growl. That tone should scare you, but it’s not directed at you and Alex and Dorothy don’t seem worried. Their calm helping you relax, convincing you that you are safe with him. His servo flexes slightly where you’re leaning on it, warm against your skin.

• Jaw working, he cups his other hand around you. Dorothy would put herself in his hand to be lifted, but you hesitate before shifting your weight, letting him carefully pick you up. Can feel Dorothy watching him, can almost feel her knowing smile and he’s sure she’ll have questions later. His servos close loosely around you, feeling your heart beating against him as he stays crouched, unsure if he can straighten without scaring you. And knowing how undeserved your gratitude is, he can’t say what he wants with the Malto’s right there watching him, so he switches to Cybertronian. “I’ll be your shield, little one. And your blade should you need it.” Your protector to repay the debt owed. Your head tips slightly, smiling uncertainly at him because you can’t understand, but that’s okay. He’ll show you.

Previous

[t3a-tan]

Silent But Friendly

A what-if story about what would happen if Oliver met borrower James wayyyy before they actually did

---

They are in silence; though not the uncomfortable stuffy kind, rather a very peaceful quietness that surrounded the dinner table. His uncle worked late most weekends, and so that left Oliver and his aunt to eat alone on that Saturday afternoon.

It was macaroni and cheese tonight— one of Oliver's favourites. He even helped in the kitchen to chop the tomatoes and grate the cheese; aunt Charlie was 7 months pregnant after all and he wanted to do his best to help out.

As he finished his portion he placed his knife and fork together on the table before making eye contact with his aunt. She was eating slowly, mostly picking at the food. Her appetite seemed all over the place during the pregnancy; sometimes Oliver saw her eating lots of snacks, and other times he saw her throwing up from the tiniest bite.

He could see in her face that she was full, though she looked determined to finish the remaining bites. Catching his eye contact, she looked up and smiled tiredly. It was a warm and kind smile; like drinking a hot chocolate in front of the fireplace in the winter. Oliver soaked in that warmth whenever it was available, and right now was no different.

“Thanks for your help in the kitchen, love. It tastes brilliant.” She praised, before sighing as she finally set her fork down. She offered a sheepish grin in his direction. “I don't think I can fit any more... D’ja think you could go put the plates in the kitchen, poppet?”

A simple task really. Oliver didn't mind doing any of his chores or extra for his aunt and uncle— not after they had taken him in and been so kind to him. And sure, he missed his parents sometimes, but it felt much more gratifying to complete a task and receive praise rather than constantly fearing punishment as he had before.

Even if he looked at his mum wrong…he could just remember the look on her eyes. It was cold and distant; like being stranded out in a snowstorm, alone and lost. Resentful.

No…he much preferred living with his aunt and uncle, no matter how many times he woke up clutching his pillow and missing the way things used to be.

Oliver nodded silently, standing up and moving all the cutlery onto her plate before stacking her plate onto his own and lifting them both. He brought them closer to his centre so they'd be easier to carry and began walking towards the kitchen only to pause as his aunt spoke up again.

“Oh— and love? Just while you're up, d’ja think you could grab me a drink of water too?”

He turned back towards her, scanning her expression for a moment and seeing that once again there was nothing but geniality in her gaze. He offered a small smile in return and nodded again. She beamed, leaning on her hand as she looked up at him.

“You are a little sweetheart, you know that?” She praised once more. Oliver averted his eyes, though internally he was very pleased by the praise. He once again only nodded in return before entering the kitchen to go put the plates by the sink.

Next, he grabbed a glass from out of the cabinet and opened the tap, first testing it with his finger to make sure it was cold before holding the glass underneath. Once it was sufficiently full he turned the tap off and returned to the table, setting the glass down in front of his aunt.

She watched him enter with a fond gaze.

“Thanks, love.”

Picking up the glass she raised it to her lips and took a few sips before coughing. Oliver's expression turned to one of worry, his lips mouthing the question he wanted to ask although no sound came out. His hands moved too, signing alongside him.

‘Are you okay?’

She saw the gesture and waved a hand dismissively, nodding a few times, though she looked a bit pale still.

“I'm fine… I'm just gonna head to the bathroom, you stay down here, okay?” She stood up slowly, and Oliver could tell just by the slight winced in her expression that she was having a bout of nausea. He shuffled closer to help her up but she gently waved off his help.

“I'm okay, I promise. Why don't you get your comfies on and I'll come in to you later to read the next chapter of Magic Tree House, hm?”

Although more hesitantly than before, Oliver nodded slowly and watched as his aunt walked up the stairs. Once she had disappeared from view he glanced back towards the kitchen.

I don't think she'll be well enough to wash up… I can do it. I'll just leave things to dry since I can't reach the cupboards.

With that thought in mind he re-entered the kitchen and approached the sink, putting some dish liquid in the washing up bowl and starting to fill it up with warm water only to jolt when a sound caught his attention.

It was faint, he hardly heard it thanks to the sound of water on water, but he still heard it. A cry. Oliver turned the tap back off, glancing around and listening for it again.

Nothing.

As he looked around for any sign of what could have made the noise— or god knows it would bother him for the entire evening— he then noticed that the cylindrical tub of oats that sat beside the other cereal was…open. The lid wasn't off all the way, laying balanced and slightly ajar.

Oliver watched it silently for a few moments, wondering how exactly it had ended up that way. He had used the oats last when he ate porridge earlier in the week, so he knew that he had closed it once he was done using it. He even remembered looking at it this morning and never noticed anything off about the lid.

Unable to come up with a plausible theory, he sought to find answers as he approached the countertop the tub of oats was on, tilting his head ever so slightly.

Is it…a mouse..? Unafraid and full of curiosity his hands gripped the base of the tub and he tilted it towards himself to peer in through the opening, the lid clattering onto the counter as he did so. He expected just…oats. Maybe a mouse or a rat.

What he didn't expect was a pair of brown eyes staring up at him through a mop of messy long black hair. There, sprawled out and covered in oat dust, was a tiny boy.

Oliver stared silently— even if he wanted to speak he was at a loss for words, simply gazing down at the boy through his glasses, his mind blanching. He tilted the tub down more just so he could get a better look, listening to the little yelp that escaped the boy as more oats rolled over him.

The walls are much too high…he must have fallen in. He could be hurt.

With that in mind, Oliver smiled reassuringly, holding one of his hands out placatingly as a gesture of goodwill before using that same hand to reach into the tub, his vision now obscured as he blindly grabbed around for the tiny boy. He had held mice before— he imagined it was the same.

His fingers closed around a squirming form and he couldn't help but wince as they did— it was a weird feeling, to hold something so small that was undoubtedly alive. Once he was sure he was holding the boy securely he lifted his hand out of the tub and let it sit upright again as he brought the squirming rescuee to his eye level.

He realised that he had carried some oats with him and saw that the raven haired boy was still struggling away, kicking and fighting and losing energy by the second. Oliver noticed that one of his legs wasn't kicking very well, but it wasn't bleeding. He opened his mouth to ask, only for the words to catch in his throat again.

He knew he could speak, but he didn't like it. Whenever he did speak it was forced and he hated the way his voice made his head and ears feel. His aunt and uncle had promised him that he didn't need to force himself to speak and were teaching him British Sign Language…but he highly doubted this random boy knew it.

None of the kids at school did. None of the teachers. They all got frustrated with him and now Oliver made sure to keep to himself, as much as he wanted to raise his hand more.

Oliver lowered his hand slightly, offering another reassuring smile that was half a grimace at the same time. He waved slowly with his free hand, trying to get the boy to stop panicking so he could attempt communication.

As his other hand raised he caught how the tiny boy's gaze immediately focused on it, going stiff and staring up at him like he was a monster. Oliver didn't let that phase him; so long as he was able to communicate his intentions, he was sure they would calm down.

He kept a gentle smile on his face, moving slowly once he noticed how easily startled they were by his movements. He mouthed his question alongside his gestures, pointing at their leg and then tilting his head as he mouthed ‘is your leg hurt'?

They continued to stare owlishly up at him, trembling. Oliver's smile faltered slightly, concern in his eyes as he repeated the movements and mouthed his question again more emphatically.

“W-why aren't you talking..?”

The tiny boy's voice definitely held fear, but it was also slightly accusatory. Oliver was used to that second part— where people thought he was weird or creepy for not speaking. He was so used to it by now that it wasn't really upsetting, though it was hard to explain without words.

Oliver shrugged and mouthed ‘I don't like talking’. The boy squinted up at him, seemingly trying to figure out what he was trying to communicate.

“You…don't like talking? O-okay���” Oliver was surprised they didn't laugh or call him weird or just ignore him as many others did. That made him smile again as he repeated his previous gestures, still trying to ask about their leg.

“O-oh…my leg..? It's fine..! So…so you can just put me down and I'll go home, yeah?” Oliver heard the hint of uncertainty in their voice and he couldn't help but frown at the thought that they didn't think he would do that in the first place. He quickly realised that his frown could be taken the wrong way though and opted for a more neutral expression.

He lowered his hand again, this time so that it was flat against the counter, nodding his head in one direction as if he was shooing the boy off of his hand with his head alone. ‘Go on. I won't keep you’. He offered another smile for good measure.

The boy didn't move for a few moments, looking around at his fingers warily as if they would snap closed on him like a bear trap. Oliver simply held still, patiently waiting, despite his many questions.

Slowly they began to scoot towards the edge of his palm, and Oliver tried his best not to react to the ticklish sensation. He watched as they fully climbed off his hand and stood up before meeting his gaze again with trepidation.

“You…you're actually letting me go..?”

Oliver nodded, smiling again as he slowly moved his hand away and turned it back over so the palm was facing downwards. He placed his free hand over his heart to indicate sincerity.

They seemed to hesitate still, but took a cautious step back. As they put weight onto one of their ankles though they let out a hiss of pain, losing their balance as they suddenly pulled their weight off of that leg. Instinctively, Oliver's hand reached towards them, cupping as he caught them, looking down at them with concern.

‘You are hurt…’ He mouthed, although it was unreadable due to the way he was practically mumbling. Regardless, the boy wasn't looking at his mouth, instead they had wide eyes and were swivelling their head around to focus on Oliver's hand. He frowned worriedly, not wanting to scare them more than they clearly already were, but also not wanting to ignore someone who was injured.

He raised his other hand from the counter again and held out his palm, splaying his fingers out in a placating gesture and biting his lip when the boy flinched away from his hand’s shadow. He repeated the gesture again, trying to show that he meant no harm. All the while, his left hand remained cupped behind them, although it wasn't caging them in.

It took about five or six times of Oliver calmly repeating the same motion for the boy to calm down and notice that his fingers weren't closing in, and his right hand wasn't moving any closer. They looked up at Oliver, looking so small and vulnerable from this vantage point… I just want to help.

‘Your leg…’ He slowly pointed to the tiny leg again, then pointed towards himself, his hand instinctively flattening to sign help, only to remember his leading hand was currently cupped behind the boy. He rested his hand on the counter again instead.

‘I can help you.’ He mouthed. When the boy didn't seem to read his lips, Oliver simply repeated the most important word. ‘Help. I can help.’

There was a hint of understanding in the boy's gaze, but he was still clearly very frightened. Oliver tried to imagine seeing the world from his perspective, but it was hard to imagine…regardless, he thought he would be more curious when coming face to face with a giant unless he had reason to believe they meant him harm.

His green gaze danced around the counter in search of something else he could offer as a sign of good will. His gaze landed on the macaroni and cheese his aunt had left— and although it wasn't super hot anymore he could warm it up. Most of it was untouched after all, and he found the boy in the oats, so he was probably looking for food or something similar.

‘Wait.’ He held his hand out again, slowly moving his hand from behind the boy so that he was no longer supporting his weight. He then picked up his aunt's plate and walked to the microwave, covering it with a lid and putting it in for thirty seconds. He watched the timer go down, intending to stop it just before it would start beeping.

At one second he opened it, turning off the timer and pulling out the plate before carrying it back over to where he had left the boy. He was pleasantly surprised to see that they were still there, watching him with wariness…but also a hint of curiosity as Oliver set the plate down nearby.

Sliding it in the boy's direction he smiled, gesturing towards the plate.

“For…for me?” They asked, shocked by the offering of food. Oliver nodded. He watched as they limped closer to the plate and very nearly toppled over whilst climbing onto it. They crawled closer then sniffed at the food, before finally taking a piece of the warm macaroni into their hands.

Oliver winced at the mess but made no moves to stop the tiny boy, simply leaning on his hand as he watched the display.

They ate ravenously, making it clear how hungry they were as they only paused to announce how good it tasted; expressing shock over the fact that the food was warm. Eventually the boy grew full and he looked up at Oliver again, cheese covering his hands and face. Oliver couldn't help but let out a breathy chuckle, hushed and soft but no less amused.

The boy frowned up at him, little eyebrows contorted in frustration.

“H-hey! Nothing funny to see here..!” He protested. Oliver covered his mouth with his hand to stifle the laughter, cutting it off with a small cough as he was worried he might actually upset the tiny boy. That would be bad…he was trying to help him after all.

They continued to stare up at him, looking him up and down with a scrutinising chocolate brown gaze, seemingly debating something internally. Oliver was silent as usual, removing his hand that was covering his mouth and making his expression neutral again— though he couldn't hide the curious spark in his eyes.

“My name is James…” The boy murmured, but Oliver heard it.

He perked up, his hands already moving to spell his own name, mouthing ‘Oliver’ alongside it. His aunt and uncle just used the sign of an acorn as a nickname for him, but he didn't really introduce himself like that.

“Oliver…yeah I know.” James responded as if it was obvious, but Oliver tilted his head questioningly nonetheless.

‘You did?’

James hadn't read his lips but seemed to understand that he had let something slip he shouldn't have as he began to backtrack immediately, fear visible in his expression.

“I-I mean…it's not— I-I'm sorry…” He was back to trembling, shoulders hunched and posture stiff. Oliver's expression saddened and he leaned down slightly so he was more at eye level, offering a small reassuring smile and shaking his head lightly, hands gesturing alongside his lips moving.

‘It’s okay. It's okay. I'm not angry.’ He shook his head again to emphasise that fact. ‘You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'll ask something else… like…’ He thought for a few moments before levelling with James again. ‘How old are you?’

There were a few beats of silence as the tiny boy continued to stay silent, but Oliver remained patient. Eventually he spoke up, albeit shakily.

“I-I'm um…I'm thirteen.” He answered, averting eye contact every now and then. Oliver knew that he was prone to staring or giving way too much eye contact so he looked away again for a moment, only looking back when he responded back.

‘I’m ten.’ He held up his hands, palms facing himself and fingers close together with his thumbs sticking out, before turning them around and splaying his fingers out. People usually understood the second gesture much more when Oliver tried to sign numbers.

“Ten?” The tiny boy clarified, and he nodded in turn. That seemed to make James perk up a bit himself, as if age was a matter of pride. “So…I-I'm older than you? You're just…so big. It’s weird…”

It's weird. Not I'm weird.

Oliver smiled.

‘I am big.’ He agreed, his hands continuing to sign as much as he knew his constant hand movements probably only confused James. Wanting to focus on more important matters again, Oliver pointed towards his leg. ‘Can I help fix your leg? It's hurt.’

“Oh, right… u-um… nothing is broken, I think I just landed weird. The pain is starting to go away a bit… But I can't stay out here— my dad’ll kill me if he catches me talking to you..!” He exclaimed, glancing around as if his dad might pop up from anywhere. Oliver couldn't help but glance around too, worry etching across his features.

‘Your dad would really do that? Is he mean to you?’ He signed quickly, his mind instantly flashing back to the many threats he had heard when he was younger from his own parents. Mostly his mother, but his father never stopped her.

James didn't seem able to read his lips that time thanks to how sporadic it was, but he could tell that Oliver was worried.

“N-not actually! I just…I'm exaggerating. He.. he will be worried about me, is all. He and my mum…” He corrected, confusion in his gaze as he looked up at him. Oliver let out a small sigh of relief and relaxed, calming down little by little.

An exaggeration. Right.

He nodded to show he understood, although he couldn't help the jittery feelings that remained buzzing under the surface, his hands withdrawing closer to his chest as he looked down at the tiny boy. ‘Okay… Do you want to clean yourself before you go, then?’

He reached over the counter and picked up a napkin before offering it forwards for James to use. The boy's face lit up in realisation and he glanced down at his cheese covered hands sheepishly before nodding and reaching out to take a corner.

“Thanks…” He spoke out as he wiped off his hands. He let go of the napkin and gave Oliver a confused look when he didn't withdraw. Letting out an amused exhale from his nose Oliver pointed at James then gestured to his face.

‘Your face is messy too.’

The boy's face went red with embarrassment and he took a clean part of the napkin to wipe the cheese from his face too. Once finished he let go again and held out his hands as if to say ta da, then shakily pushed himself to a stand.

At first it seemed like he might fall again, and Oliver's fingers twitched in anticipation…but it seemed the boy had been telling the truth that the injury was nothing serious and the pain was fading, as he was able to put more weight on it than before. Satisfied, he put the napkin in the bin before looking down at James again.

‘It was nice to meet you, James.’ He smiled, waving down at them. He waved back up at him, climbing off of the plate and walking backwards towards the…wall..? Oliver watched with confusion and interest, then awe as the tiny boy opened a hidden doorway into the wall. His eyes sparkled with wonder, although he only watched.

“I-it was nice to meet you too, surprisingly. Thanks again for not um..for not killing me.” The secret door then closed and left Oliver alone in the kitchen once more. He tilted his head, brows furrowing.

What an odd thing to say… Oh well. I hope his parents don't get angry at him because of me.

With that in mind, he stood up straight again and turned the tap back on to resume his washing up, playing the interaction in his head over and over again.

I hope we can be friends.

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: thank you so much for all of the love and support for fourteen entire parts of this story ! hugs and kisses, xoxo

Nervously biting your lip, you waited for the phone to answer your call. The wrinkled napkin was even more wrinkled and you hoped that the slightly smudged numbers were accurate to the ones that you have digitally imputed.

A man picks up the phone, asking who this person is calling him for.

"Hi. Can I speak to John?" you say, trying to rid your voice of any type of nervousness.

"This is he. Wait.. I know this voice... Let me think, don't say it. I will get it right....Y/N? Right?" he says.

You chuckle and confirm. He asks you how you've been. Fall is starting soon and your schedule was clear enough to give him a phone call.

"So, I'm really glad that you called. I really think I should introduce you to somebody that you will go crazy for." he explains.

"Mhm." you say as he then continues after he hears your acknowledgment.

"I think you both will go crazy for each other actually. Both of your minds seem to be a lot alike. I showed him your work and he found the other work that you have posted, he like went crazy." he says and chuckles as you join in.

"So. Have you been to New York before?" he asks.

"Never." you say almost in shock. That was the very place you would love to go. Art seemed endless there.

"All I need is for you to tell me you would like to visit and a ticket will be in your email inbox before the leaves touch the ground." he says and you take a moment to think.

Paul wasn't there at the moment, making his rounds with Sam.

"Yes, I would love to but-"

"Good! I'll uh.. keep in touch and I'll see you soon." he says, his voice being much lighter since you somewhat accepted such an offer. He saw so much potential and wanted to introduce you into a deeper world.

The line goes dead as you rack your brain of how this conversation could go.

As the fork clinked against the plate, Paul chuckled to himself as he swallowed his food. He finally takes his eyes that were on his plate and directs them to your pupils.

"You must have to either tell me something or you want something."

You playfully roll your eyes, "If I want something, you know what I would do." you tell him. He gives you a look that makes you blush but you quickly recoup yourself before things go too far off track.

"Don't freak out please." you tell him carefully as your held your own fork.

He glanced at the dish that you served him, it was one of his favorites. You barely cooked it because you expressed how tedious it was. He thought you found the lost time.

"I wont freak out if its bad." he decides.

Knowing you're not going to get the promise you wanted, you nod as you just let the words roll off of your tongue.

"I'm going to New York soon."

"When?" he says immediately back.

"Soon, before the fall."

Smiling a bit but no intent of humor, he is a bit taken aback.

"That's... very close." he says.

"I just found out today while you were gone." you say defensively.

He doesn't say much as he furrows his eyebrows and looks back down at his plate. He's thinking.

"What are you thinking about?" you softly ask as you place a touch on his hand.

"Nothing."

"Liar." you say in a hushed tone.

"How long are you going to be gone?" he asks.

You slowly shrug, feeling a bit shameful for not knowing the definite answer. You felt it was a bit childish.

"And you accepted- wait. Who is in New York again?" he then asks.

"The guy who bought my painting." you explain.

"Oh." he drags out as he scrapes the last remainder of food that was on his plate, bringing it to his mouth, saying it as if he pieced the final piece to a puzzle.

"Do you think Sam will let you go?" you ask as you fold a napkin, over creasing it.

"Sure he would. If hell froze over." he answers.

"Plus, you don't know how long you're going to be gone." he says with his hands out.

Looking down, "I don't know, I thought you would think this is a good opportunity for me." you voice out.

"Y/N, it is. There's just no way in hell he's going to let me go miles and miles away from La Push for god knows how long." he says, if you didn't pay attention, you would’ve missed that there was a hint of somberness in his voice.

Getting up from your seat, his head is now in your arms as you hold it against your stomach. "I really wish you could come."

He doesn't say anything for some time but his arm fits snug around your waist. Once you are about to let him go, he surprises you with, "You're going far. I know I can't go. Can you at least ask someone to go with you?"

You intake a breath for a response but he adds in, "I would feel better knowing someone is going with you at least."

"I can see but..." you say giving him a knowing look. Sam admitted to checking up on Emily while doing errands. It was comical to think they would be able to handle being without each other for long.

He laughs a little, "I know."

"The idea of someone being with me doesn't sound bad, you know. You have to promise me to come with me the next time I go back." you tell him.

He leans up as you lean down, "Deal." he agrees. Instead of shaking on it, you both touch lips on it.

Another day came around as you woke up in bed alone. Covers were tucked tight with you, Paul didn't want you to be cold due to your lack of clothing. The weather was starting to show signs of change. The summer wave is blending into an end. You really had to wear a jacket for temperature purposes and not by fashionable choice.

Sliding it on, you closed the front door as you made you way to return the rest of your checked out books to the local library. You brought the almost finished Wuthering Heights, texting Bella since it was a public place.

"I'm at the library. I wanted to give you something."

You weren't a heartless person. It kind of made you feel bad as you read previous missed texts from Bella, asking you if you can talk on the phone or if you were free.

You tried your best to give Paul the stress free mentality of not dealing with her. Knowing the danger that she was constantly around, you were a bit scared of it rubbing off on you.

She immediately texts back. Not hearing from you in a long time, made her not want to miss an interaction with you.

"Okay. I'm omw"

You waited as you looked around. She didn't take long before she pushes open the clear entry door and have her chocolate eyes searching for yours.

What surprised you was the hug that she gave you. She pulls back with a nervous chuckle, "I'm sorry. I haven't heard from you in a while, that's all."

"Yeah." you say bringing a nervous chuckle of your own. You extend the book in her direction as she softly smiles.

Her smile fades as she notices that you haven't finished it. She echoes her observation.

"You haven't finished it."

"I know. I'm going out of town and I don't want to lose it or anything." you explain.

She vocalizes two tisks as she looks back at the returned book, "Y/N, give it back to me when you’ve actually read the entire thing."

"I don't even know when I'm coming back." you say, bringing your shoulders up a bit.

Her eyebrows furrow a bit, "Did you change your mind? Are you leaving for college?"

You shake your head, "The power of art."

She smiles again, "That's good. I'm happy for you."

"At least keep it until I get back." you tell her, trying your best to convince her.

"No way. You might need it for the trip going there. Wait, where are you going?"

You hesitated as you thought of her immortal boyfriend finding out.

"Y/N?" she asks again when she doesn't get an answer, but cautiously.

She didn't have to know the exact city or place. Just the state.

Her eyes grow big, "Wow. That's awesome. I've never been."

"Really?" you ask her as you both walk out of the library.

As much as her mother moved around, you were surprised.

"Yeah." she says as a lock of hair moved with her fingers to rest behind her ear.

As you walk her to her truck, she then says, "I'm sure Paul is going to miss you like crazy."

"Yeah. I shouldn’t be gone for too long.”

You hear her sigh as you watch her open a cab door.

"What's wrong?' you ask.

She takes a moment, before continuing, "Do you think.. Never mind." she says.

"What? What is it?" you press on.

"I mean.. It would be nice if I got to get away like you. I really don't want to spend my birthday here. Then, you’re leaving." she says with gloom as she looks around.

"But, you get to spend it with Edward. Besides, I'm sure it's going to be all work with no fun anyhow." you say, trying to shrug it off.

She doesn't say anything but you could easily tell she wanted to.

She instead decides to sit in her driver seat.

"I can drop you back off if you want me to." she says, noticing you don't have car keys.

"The air feels good today."

"Y/N, get in." she says.

Your heart thuds almost out of your chest at the thought of her finding out where you and Paul lived. Afraid of the information she would tell Edward, you decide to play with flipping the script.

"What were you up to? I don't really feel like going home. Paul is out right now." you say as you close the passenger door.

"Doing chores. Fun, huh." she says with dry humor but her eyes still light up.

"Very." you say and both share a series of chuckles.

"Do you want to come over?" she offers. There was hope in her voice. Bella hasn't really made a genuine friend, let alone a human friend, enough to ever ask this question. It felt good to willingly ask this question to someone.

You nod. It was way better than explaining to Paul on why Bella Swan knows where you both live.

Driving on the highway, you both soak in the comfortable silence. For some reason, you felt like you had to get inside of this chick's head.

Sitting crisscrossed on her soft bed, your eyes wander around her bedroom.

You caught sight of the pictures that hung up, kids that definitely went to her school. A picture of her and her father. "Cool mustache" , you thought to yourself. Bella being hugged tightly by Renee as you could feel her carefree nature just by one glance at the picture. A long haired boy next to her was muddy as blush was painted on Bella's cheeks with the boy's arm slung around her shoulder. Taking an extra glance, you notice that she was muddy in the picture as well. A picture that stuck out like a sore thumb out of all of them, was the one with the Cullen boy. If you hadn't seen him in person with her, you would've thought she cut him out of a magazine and glued him next to her.

"So, that's why you were in Seattle." she says as realization hit as you tell her the full story of how this opportunity came about.

You nod your head as she chuckles, "Edward was trying to take me to something fancy, I convinced him to let me eat there."

"Wow." you say.

You then change the subject, “What was your first impression of Edward?”

“Perfect.” she says with a blush.

“You both met a school?” you ask. She nods.

“What about you?” she ask as she jerks her head a bit.

You shrug as you shyly smile, “I thought he was out of my league to be honest.”

A small laugh comes out of her throat as she says, “No, same. I still wonder how Edward finds me interesting.”

“Come on, it’s easy. You’re a pretty girl with a…Pretty guy to match. I’m sure this isn’t your first rodeo.” You say to not let herself feel low standard.

She gives you a look, “He’s my first boyfriend. Plus, guys didn’t look my way. In places like Arizona and California, I’m just another girl.” she explains.

You raise your eyebrows a bit at this. Understanding the rush, “Paul’s mine as well. I guess we’re experiencing relationships for the first time…together.”

A small smile doesn’t leave her face, “Okay, I’m shocked at you. You’re so easy to get along with.”

You shrug.

"I still haven't forgot that you told me you were going to let me peak into your sketchbook."

"I didn't forget." you say you say sweetly and a muffled knock appears at the door.

"I'll be back." she says as she gets up. Not thinking anything of it, you stretch your legs out in her spot until she gets back. Except, she doesn't come back right away.

You move closer to the cracked bedroom door as you hear voices beneath you. Almost being a pro at eavesdropping, you don't let your footsteps touch the ground hard under you as you sit close.

"They're dangerous, Bella." you hear a male voice, almost sounding like bells chiming.

"Well, Y/N's not. She's human. Like me."

"Who's dating someone dangerous, Bella. Who loses their temper faster than we do." the voice says, in that same bell like voice.

It was entrapping, it made you want to hear him speak a long speech, knowing you would never get bored. It was unnatural.

"Edward, that’s not fair. Plus, you won’t even explain why."

"What wouldn't be fair is if something were to happen to you." he says and silence fills the air.

You brace yourself to move, thinking he must've figured out that you're listening in, but luckily, he continues, "I know you're a selfless person, but Alice has been dying to spend more time with you."

Hearing her frustrated and impatient sigh, "Edward, I like spending time with people who have the same interests as me. Being Barbie Bella is tiring." she says.

"I know. You can just talk to her." he says.

"I have. I seriously don't believe for a second that you think she listens."

Silence then trickles into the air again as you give up, not even letting your position be known. It seemed like as soon as you sat on the bed, Bella came back in.

"Who was that?" you ask her.

"Just Edward. Are you hungry? I went shopping this week." she says as if nothing happened.

Wanting to know if your curiosity serves you right, you nod. Following her down the wooden steps, the perfect male is sitting stiffly in the kitchen chair.

Glancing at Bella, she opens her mouth, "Y/N. Edward. Edward, this is Y/N."

It was as if he tried to figure something out, as you kept your eyes on him. You didn't say anything. It reminded you of the look of concentration that he displayed when you saw him and Bella in Seattle.

"Hello." he says politely, but something in his actions felt like he wanted to say more.

"Goodbye." you say and you turn to Bella, "I should get going."

"You just got here. Please." she says, her eyes screaming for you not to go. Her hand even takes the extra length to be placed on your arm as you try to turn on your heels.

Sighing, you hated being in uncomfortable situations. You definitely didn't sign up to be a third wheel.

"I'll just be in the living room." you tell her. She's pleased with this.

"Cool. I can um.. Start dinner for Charlie then." she says with a small smile.

Giving her a tight smile you drop it as your back is faced towards her. Flopping on the couch, you press the buttons on the remote. Not knowing what to put on, you just let Animal Planet run its course. You didn't have to think.

The narrator finishes up the showing of the son of a lion being kicked out of the pride. The melodramatic music begins as the son has no choice but to leave and wander along the edges of established territories.

"They do it. If there's potential competition." the melodic voice speaks out, you jump a bit as you didn't hear him come in the living room. Out of you peripheral vision, you catch a glimpse of him as he sits stiffly on the other end of the couch.

You could still hear Bella tinkering about in the kitchen.

"I would say cool but.." you say as you impatiently wait for the commercial break to end.

"All it is, is nature." he says back.

You take a quick look at him. You wished you didn't. The amber eyes stared back at you with so much focus, it was uncanny.

You look away. You weren't afraid. It was just unnerving. His gaze was both pierce and intense. You weren’t used to something like this since the first time that you met Paul.

“Your eyes.” you just say as you watch the screen advertise paper towels, in a volume that you know only he could hear. You said it with such obvious clarity. The last commercial smoothly transitioned into the next animal’s day in a life.

“What about them.” he says slowly but steadily.

“They’re a bit..” you say and then smirk but shake your head.

“They’re a bit, what?” he pressed on but still coated with detectable persuasion.

“Unusual.” you say square at him and watch as his lips purse a bit at this. His eyebrows wrinkle a bit.

You then take your eyes back to the television screen. It wasn’t like he was going to do anything with Bella right in the kitchen.

“Is that a bad thing?” he asks with great curiosity as the animal’s day on the screen is paced slow.

“It’s an unusual thing.” you say as your eyes follow the vibrant colors of the safari scenery but to your surprise he chuckles a bit as he coolly says, “Hypothetically, you have something about yourself that’s unusual.”

You go silent as you just shrug him off. He then rises as Bella meets him halfway as she entered the room, her face filled with happiness to see him as she forgets her surroundings.

“Never again.” you sigh internally in your head as you rest your knuckle on your cheek as your arm rests on arm of the sofa. It almost felt more intrusive than Sam and Emily.

“I will leave you both be. Your friend is getting bored.” he says with humor but it was also as if he couldn’t wait to have something pinned on you. The smug smile that he tried to hide wasn’t unnoticeable to you. Bella just looked up to him with longing, but Edward held her close with such delicacy. It looked like a hint of a renaissance painting.

You didn’t expect the look of Edward’s face as he caught your eyes, the smugness slowly died down. It was as if he was reading or watching something in your eyes but you feel very unsettled, casting your glance to just Bella.

Bella then catches your eye and has a sign of remembrance as she then takes a shy hold of your hand as she walks you in the direction of the kitchen.

You felt safe in Bella’s grip but Edward’s eyes burned your skin. He literally watched you the entire way.

“Thank you.” you tell Bella as you politely take a baked treat of hers. She wanted you to try her dinner, but your stomach just couldn’t handle the heaviness of the food due to the lasting effects of Edward. A small desert was passable. It would let you buy time to think of responses if needed be.

She passed your welcomes and you both sit confortably at her table.

“He’s gone and I miss him already.” She says as she chuckles and nervously run a hand through her hair, “Is it like that with you and Paul?”

The fact that she acknowledged Edward’s absence, your tense shoulders dropped as you nod. It was true, you did miss him even at that moment.

Thinking of him, shuddered a wave of confidence through you. You were tired of tiptoeing.

“Do you both have a supernatural connection?” you ask.

She blinks as she looks at you with a wave of shock.

“Bella. It’s okay. I know Edward is not really human.” you carefully say as she still try to peddle through the river of denial.

She stutters out, “How? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are so not leaving me here by myself in this world.” you say to her and it shuts her up.

Her face goes even as she then looks down and then around. She shakes her head a bit as she lets out a small breath, “So, is Paul..?”

You didn’t want to deep dive into his abilities with someone who was dating his opposition.

“Something of that sort. But promise me something please.” you say.

She nods.

“Don’t tell Edward that…I know.” you say.

She nods again but speaks, “He can’t read my mind anyway.”

You make a gesture of not knowing what she’s talking about. She makes it crystal clear. You then wondered, what did he see in your mind? It shouldn’t have been too much since you spoke out to him directly, but you just didn’t know for sure yet.

“Lucky you.” you say as she lightens her mood, feeling relaxed and at ease again.

“I feel like it’s good that we’ve met. I mean it’s nice to know someone who’s like me, a human, who just knows what it’s like to keep secrets. Especially, about stuff like this.” she says with great relief.

You give her a smile as she has her feel of gratefulness.

Her hand stayed on the steering wheel as she looked over to you. Not only did common interests overlap with one another, she liked having you around a lot. You felt bad about the idea of completely cutting her off.

“Text me.” she says as you push open her truck door.

“Okay.” you say back as your feet touched the pavement of the beach parking lot.

Sitting on the rocks, your mind wandered free as dusk began to settle in. You call Paul but there’s no answer. He’s still not home by the time you walk back.

You felt a sense of lonesome, the shower that you took didn’t soothe you. Stealing Paul’s pillow, you clutch it close to you as his faint smell of him dance in your nostrils.

It was very dark but there a luminary light that pushed your footsteps forward. Walking towards it, you felt a strong hand try to pull you back but one hand started to multiply. Soon, hands were trying their best to keep you from going into the light that you were walking in.

You woke up with such urgency, you almost didn’t notice Paul smushed into you. Sighing in relief and tracing your hand on his cheek, he stirs in his sleep. As you let your mind play a supercut of your dream, Paul’s eyes slowly but tiredly blinks open as he catches a glimpse of your unsettled demeanor.

Reaching to kiss your jawline, he makes sure that you’re okay.

You nit pick at the breakfast in front of you. Paul watched your movements without saying anything.

“I think I’m going to stay back.” you say to the silent air.

“What?” he says, as if you were crazy. You don’t say anything as you watch your breakfast instead of eating it.

“Look, you don’t have to take someone with you I was just-“ he starts, but you didn't like the way that his eyes showed how he blamed himself, you cut him off.

“It’s not about that. I don’t know. I just feel like….” you say but sigh out as your shoulders hunch a bit.

“What is it?”

“I really want you to be the one to come with me.” you just quietly say.

He takes your hand. “Believe me, I feel the same.” he says.

Your mind goes to thinking again. You really want to tell Paul that Edward has an ability. It scratches at your brain. You wondered if this was something that he knew. But, the millions of questions would come and he’s been trusting you more. If he found out that you were around Edward to know, things would go back to square one.

“I'm so fucking tired.” he comments. You look up and see that he’s telling the truth. The bags under his eyes show proof of his claim.

The hand that he still had in his, rose to up and your lips place a kiss on the back of his.

"Can we trade places?" you say to make him feel a bit better.

"No way. Let your passion be the only thing that stresses you out." he says seriously. He rises as he announces his departure. Crushing you close to him, you gladly drink him in to the point where he had to be the one to unwillingly pull away.

Sitting at the kitchen table, you doodled in your pad to blow off the thoughts in your head. Barely paying attention to the direction of your strokes. It wasn't until you reached for your eraser, is when you look at the small picture that you drew.

The eyes were very familiar and striking. You tear out the page as you crumble it tight and toss it in the trash. All it did was bring out the memories of what those eyes held. A certain face floated in your head so you tried your best to distract yourself.

Calling Emily, you find out that she’s home. You smile at this. Your smile fades when she then drops, "Kim is here."

Retracting your interest, "Okay, well, I guess I will talk to you later."

Hanging up with her, you figure fresh, cool air should help you take your mind off of things.

You walk outside, the wind blowing as you take your time with your steps. Headphones were snug on your ears as you listened closely to the lyrics. The song, you and Paul’s song, came on and soothed you. You both came a long way since then. Your mind travels as you sit on the cliffs.

As you let the piece of charcoal glide in your small booklet, a quote stuck out to you.

“Hypothetically, you have something about yourself that’s unusual.”

Whatever that means. But what did it mean? Was it just a get back for your comment? The color was unusual. But most of all, you felt frustrated that all you wanted to do was clear your head but your mind kept going back to your interaction with Edward Cullen.

You scribbled frustratedly on the page, cursing for him taking up the space in your mind. It started to slowly turn into bitterness. Even his smug demeanor that he displayed the previous day was even on loop. As badly as you wanted to shake him off, you just couldn’t.

Sliding your headphones off while they were leaking with music, you let out a deep sigh. You definitely weren’t going to stay here and miss out on leaving town.

“Can you please at least come for dinner? I haven’t seen you in so long :( “

You read Emily’s text as you made your way down the cliffs. You were there for a while. Not responding, you just walk to her home.

Opening the door, the aroma of the supper that she cooked, smacked right into you.

Her body soon followed as she hugged you tight. “It’s been so long!” she gushes, happy to see you. Hugging her back, you squeeze her to let her know that you missed her as well.

Sam says hello to you as you touch his shoulder in passing. Moving into the living room, you find Paul sitting on the same sofa as Jared.

Wrapping yourself up with Paul, Jared jokes how a hello to him would be nice.

“Sorry.” you replied with nervous laughter. You didn’t get a chance to talk much after, Paul’s finger guides your face to his as he gets a taste of you.

“The bedroom is that way.” you hear an unpleasant voice suddenly say.

Ignoring it, you didn't even notice Jared telling her silently to stop.

You rise as you take Paul’s hand with you to sit at the eating table next to you.

Thank goodness the conversation was light but you were still silent, besides laughing at Paul’s humorous remarks that he would throw out.

You stood at the sink as laughter was floating out of the living room. Taking the dish out of the soapy water, you began to scrub with a sponge as the headphones softly sang songs in your ears.

With the dishes done, you go into the living room to join everyone.

Your phone drops out of your pocket as you move to sit next to Paul.

Kim moves to pick it up, she steals a discreet look at the notification that came across your screen. This action goes unnoticed as she stretched her phone out to you.

As much as didn’t want to, you mutter out a thanks. Paul moves your body to plop you onto his lap.

“Congratulations, by the way. Paul told us about your upcoming trip.” Jared tells you with a supportive smile. You gladly tell him thanks.

“What trip?” Kim asks. You say nothing as Sam just says, “She’s been a graced a wonderful opportunity.”

“How come no one’s told me?” she questions but the looks that went her way let her know that she couldn’t have been serious.

“Because we didn’t.” Paul impatiently says to get to her to be quiet so he can focus back on the television.

She scoffs a bit as she says, “I’m sure she told Bella Swan all about it.”

“Are you serious right now?” Jared asks her. You felt a bit bad that he was feeling irritated. Noticing the slight change in his normal vibrant self, he seemed defeated and had no ounce of optimism left.

“I am. She drops me for some vampire lover. I’m offended.” she explains.

“Kim, if you’re not going to control yourself, you have to go. We’re choosing peace tonight.” Sam tells her.

Kim sits back with her arms folded like an immature child as the only thing that was left to be heard in the room was the action on the television.

You volunteer to fill the popcorn bowl to escape the tension. You missed being over here a lot and you tried your best to not let a certain someone ruin it for you.

You check your notifications and it was a proposition from Bella.

“My birthday is in a few days and was wondering if it could be just us if you’re still here. I don’t want to do anything over the top.”

You type back, seeing indeed that the month of September had arrived.

“I honestly would have to let you know.”

The microwave beeped as you pulled the hot bag out and carefully rip it open. You shuffle out the contents into the bowl and hold it as you make your way back into the living room.

You hand Emily the bowl as you let yourself fall gracefully onto Paul’s lap.

Paul’s hand had a mind of their own as the darkness hid him circling your belly. Leaning back further on him, you thought nothing of it.

His hips did one smooth shift as your body rolled with him, an electrifying feeling, shot through you.

It was a bold move as his hand never leave the spot he had it placed but you sit up a bit, still feeling him beneath you.

You catch a peak at his face when he stares back at you with audaciously.

“I think we’re going to head out. Paul could barely keep his eyes open.” you say as you watch his face slowly turns into a smirk.

“Aw? Already?” Emily asks crestfallen.

You “help” him up with your hand as he rises from his spot.

“You know the time for tomorrow, right?” Sam asks Paul.

Paul stretches his limbs out as he nods.

It was your turn to stretch the limbs of your arms. Your hands were filled with the wrinkled sheets that were tight under your grip.

Paul’s hands caressed the skin of your back as your body rocked back and forth on his sleek stiffness. It scraped deliciously in your insides as your breathe out as name. His grunts were heavy as he then whispered out, “Shittt.”

He pulls back and emptied himself on the sheets as his hand couldn’t catch all of himself.

As you fit a clean sheet on the bed, you speak out with mellowness, “We shouldn’t do it raw anymore.”

He takes a glance at you as he speaks back, “Why? You don’t like how it feels?”

A heated feeling in your cheeks scorched as you smooth out the side that you tucked, “N-no. I mean, I do.”

“Then what’s wrong?” he chuckles a bit as he tosses a pillow onto the bed.

“You almost came in me.” you tell him in a small voice, you both have been intimate many times but talking about sex with him still brought shy, fluttery feelings.

“I always pull out in time.” he says with confidence.

“It only takes one time. And you didn’t …One time.” you say as you remembered the time when you woke up to both of you still intertwined. You’ve never felt so amalgamated with him. As vice as it seemed, it felt so good.

“I can smell when you’re ovulating.” he says casually and lays back on his side of the bed, looking to you to join him.

“I just don’t.. Want any mistakes.” you tell him cautiously as you cover yourself with the large cover.

“Do you want any mistakes, someday?” He asks as he pulls you to snuggle against his warmth.

“I don’t know. At least, not now.” you tell him with gentle shrug. You then look to him to watch his face, which was full of contentment. “What about you?” you ask him.

“To be honest, yeah.” he says and you feel trapped in his gaze as the honest truth shone through. He then reached over to turn the lamp off.

Early the next morning, you decided to take it easy by staying in. It was raining hard and the wet leaves stuck to the sidewalk and the streets.

It’s been a while since you’ve used your good paint and just went to work on a wooden canvas that you forgot you had. Halfway through making the inchoate, rainy, autumn scenery, you’ve decided to give this as a gift to Bella.

After you spread clear varnish onto your work, you decided to check your email.

A subject message stops you dead in your tracks.

The name alone stopped you in your tracks.

ALICE CULLEN

SURPRISE PARTY INVITE !

Not even clicking on it, you scroll. There was just no way you were going that deep.

Clicking on another inbox message, John had sent your ticket. You check the dates and see that you’re going to be gone for an entire week. You’ve also seen that you were leaving two days after Bella’s birthday. Sitting back with your arms crossed, you look at her gift.

[inknopewetrust]

𝐍𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐨𝐝𝐬

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐢𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐚 𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞𝐬 𝐚 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧.

[𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] [𝐰𝐜: 𝟕.𝟎𝟐𝐤]

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐫𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝟏 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟕.

𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬: 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐒𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 | 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫

The weather had leveled out in the days that followed.

It sprinkled and poured, sleeted and hailed when the wind got bad enough but it was never a match from the stormed that brewed inside of you like the darkest magic taking hold. You weren’t sure if Hell was nicer than watching Dean weave his way into each town and flirt with all of the girls that looked his way but if it were up to you, you’d rather be there burning.

Every time you’d glance across the bar his eyes would be twinkling. Full of this mischievous fire swirling to lock onto a face he’d forget, a name he wouldn’t recall. For what? You rapped your fingers against the tabletop. There was no answer to the question.

Your “few days” had turned into a few weeks of hunting.

You’d taken every ounce of your vacation time without truly thinking of the consequences that laid in your path. No new stories, no angry emails from patrons across the states, no pressing concern from the higher-ups to come back to work. Those elements paled in comparison to sitting in a hole-in-the-wall wallowing with Sam as Dean fished for a catch—nevertheless it was a change of pace and a difference from what you had grown used to.

No one was reading The Supernatural Chronicles in December. It was out of season, unimportant. There was a lull and every part of your life besides the strange happenstances of the battles they chose to take on.

You didn’t think this small excursion at Sam’s call would have ended up with you sitting in the back of Baby a whole month later. You didn’t have enough clothes, you barely had time to call your landlord, and worse, your job was hanging by a thread. It stretched thin and every passing day kindling the twine to its thinnest string.

And then the skin-walker incident happened.

And the police were always hot on your tail… well, Sam and Dean’s tail… but mostly Dean’s.

The fights between you and Dean, however, were nothing short of familiar. You wallowed in choice as the day ended and the night rose. A one-hit-wonder played in the air around you; condensation ran along the edge of your glass to puddle on the coaster.

Sam’s head was buried in his father’s journal beside you.

John Winchester had been missing for months. Not a peep heard from Bobby to Ellen to the tiniest taps of his shoes but both of them continued to look as the mysteries took you around the states. Every hint John had laid bare in his journal ate away at Sam. It was as though the hints were unintentional, in many ways. Little crumbs to dead ends and situations that stole their attention away for not three-days at a time.

“What’s he sayin’ now?” You turned the straw in your drink to create a tornado.

“Dean’s sixteenth birthday,” Sam droned. “He ever tell you about that one?”

“The werewolf?”

Sam nodded and you recalled most of what Dean had ever told you—although he had been in your life, they both have, for a little over half of it—making it had to sift through the pages.

“Yeah,” you nodded faintly. “John made him take the lead. One of his first ‘big boy’ jobs, if you will.”

Sam snickered with a sly grin. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

You glanced in Dean’s direction again. He was occupied with a blond in a short jean skirt. “I doubt he’d hear it even if I shouted.”

Sam looked up and toward his brother in turn. Even if you had been playing a strong game, you wore it on your sleeve. Jealousy was an ugly bug for two people who seemed to be on different ends of planet earth.

“What was your favorite job?” Sam interjected the staring before it was too far gone. You peered into your glass.

“You mean a hunt or a real job? Like a job, job?”

“Hunt, I guess.”

“I’ve been on so many they seem to blur together sometimes.” Sam nodded in agreement as he closed John’s book. “I think I was… eighteen? Just turned eighteen. Do you remember when I graduated high school and Dean wanted to go roadtripping for a week?”

Sam noted fondly. “I remember how bad I wanted to go along, yeah.”

“Sorry about that,” you apologized half-heartedly. “But Dean took me up to Michigan and we spent a week in Munchkin Land.”

“Munchkin Land? Like the—“

“Wizard of Oz?” You finished. “There’s a graveyard with the remains of a bunch of kids—two girls in particular who were said to haunt the area because they’d been murdered by a priest and then the God fearing man killed himself out of remorse… or so they say.”

“What drew you there? Why go?”

“Dean caught wind of it, he said, through a New York Times article.”

“Oh,” Sam’s eyes widened slightly, brows going high.

“Turns out it was all… fake. A true urban legend of the area.”

“That’s not really a hunt then, is it?”

“No,” your hands drug against the tabletop and into your lap as you looked at Sam. He had bags under his eyes. He hadn’t slept good in days. “But I think we were all a little happier back then.”

“It’s hard not to think about that,” Sam said quietly while the music drowned him out.

Everything was heavy. The world was weighing down and sitting pretty on top of the shoulders of the damned. If you had truly been granted a peaceful life, perhaps you’d be happy. Maybe Sam would have graduated, Dean would have a real job, and maybe you’d all have parents who loved and encouraged you.

“What was so great about Michigan? I mean, I’ve been there a few times now and I don’t think it’s too much to say that it’s no different than Illinois, or Wisconsin, or Indiana.”

“I guess it was just… we spent seven days weaving in and out of hunting and almost vacationing. It was normal. Or at least a normal as you could get. No motel, an actual hotel. It was on the cusp of fall and there’s truly no fall like a midwest one. There’s something that’s stuck with me. I can’t get rid of it even if I tried.”

Sam peered at Dean again.

“Does it bother you? If it’s any consolidation, he’s like this everywhere. Ever since he picked me up the first time, every place we go is the same.”

You shrugged. To tell Sam the truth? Never. He didn’t need to deal with petty things. A girl who can’t seem to get over an ex who seemed to do everything in his power to make her dislike him? Dean just reeled you in.

“Dean will be Dean. I’m not trying to control him.”

“No one can,” Sam scoffed. “But I do think dad going missing is weighing on him more than he lets on.”

“Tell me something new, Sam,” you swallowed your words with a sip of your drink. “John was the center of his world when you left and well before that. You know he was. It was like trying to keep a dog on a leash before it obliterates a squirrel just because it can.”

Sam furrowed his brows at you. Shaking your head, you dismissed it. “For another time.”

“I could read your journal and find out about it for myself,” he countered.

“And your hands will go missing in the night if you touch it, Sammy. I swear,” you groaned playfully, “you Winchester boys will be the death of me.”

“Not before we solve the case in Iowa.”

Ankeny, Iowa.

Dean read a local journal yesterday morning of a case where the suspect was already being tolled around as a “ghost.” The only witness was too terrified to be interviewed, too frightened to give a real description other than “ghost.” To anyone else it would have been plain and simple: she was crazy.

But those stories aren’t lore. They’re not lies nor is that victim crazy.

“Not before we solve the case in Iowa,” you repeated and sat up straighter at the mention of a case. It had summoned Dean unknowingly to the table. He moved with a casual sureness that he’d snagged a woman’s number wrapped in a bar napkin.

He tucked the white napkin into his pocket, lightly grinning as he chewed gum obnoxiously. Those eyes still gleamed in the low light of the bar.

“What’s with the mopey looks?” Dean questioned. He sat on the stool across from you and you pulled your drink closer as if to distract you.

“Just tired,” Sam covered. “We gotta get going, Dean. If we want to get there by ten we’ve gotta leave.”

Dean’s face contorted. “Oh, come on!”

“You wanted to take on this one!” Sam defended.

“We can’t just get a room somewhere here?”

“So you can hook up with some random girl you’ve just met?” Sam argued back. Dean’s eyes flicked to you but you weren’t looking at him. In actuality, you were looking everywhere but him.

Dean stressed to Sam silently to be more ‘aware’ of his surroundings yet Sam had little sympathy.

“No!” Dean offered exaggeratedly. “You said it, we could use the rest. We’re all tired.”

“Not tired enough to go to a bar, not tired enough to flirt with some no name—“

“—I know her name,” Dean lamented.

“Oh yeah? What is it?” Sam challenged.

“Sam, come on,” you shook your head. Dean stuttered. He glimpsed back at the blond he had been talking to who wiggled her fingers in a wave toward him.

Dean turned back to you and Sam. “Alright fine. I don’t remember her name but it doesn’t matter anyway.”

“Right,” you laughed. “You can make a girl feel really wanted that way.”

“I’m not looking to date her, sweetheart. I think we each deserve a little fun after all we do for the world. We’re heroes, practically.”

“Sure,” you agreed loosely. “But the second I’d go and hit on Mr. 401k over there—“ there was a man, a little older than you, dressed in a suit and drinking whisky on the other end of the bar from the blond. “—we’d be out the door without a second thought.”

Dean narrowed his eyes, elbows finding themselves on the table top and leaning in.

“Why is it such a big deal if I sack a broad, hm? As far as I’m concerned, there are no strings attached.” His finger motioned between the two of you.

“It’s not a big deal,” you swirled off the chair and landed your feet on the floor. “I don’t care what you do, Dean. And maybe work on your flattery a little bit? She deserves better than ‘broad.’”

Sam followed suit. “We’ve gotta go, Dean.”

Dean sighed. He leaned back on his own chair and ran a hand over his face. Eventually, he conceded. Jumping off his own chair and following behind you as Sam took the lead to exit the bar.

Dean loomed even if he wasn’t as tall as Sam. His presence was drawing, eclipsing the space around you as your shoes clattered on the rickety wooden floor to trail Sam. You didn’t dare stagger in step with him hot on your tail. His boots nearly nipping the backs of your shoes, he kept close as the three of your weaved through the patrons.

Reaching the end of the bar, you passed Mr. 401k who hadn’t even peaked in your direction but after you had passed, Dean’s elbow abruptly knocked into his back and sent his drink spilling into his lap. The man made a sound of ‘what the fuck, man?’

“So sorry! It was an accident,” Dean offered as he continued to walk past. You barely turned around to see the commotion when Dean’s hands rested on your shoulders and prompted you forward.

“Wha—“

“Nothin’,” he shrugged off and you felt the air shift. You were right. Dean’s immaturity leaked through like a sieve and you were reminded of why the world wasn’t kinder to your love before.

“Dean—“

“I thought you didn’t care?” He questioned with his voice low enough to hear over the music that still streamed from the bar. His hands slipped from your shoulders.

“You think he’s cute? Kinda your speed now, isn’t it?”

“You’re being childish. We have work to do. Why can’t you just put this one night to bed?”

“So you do,” Dean pressed as though he had cracked a larger case. He didn’t, but he felt like he did.

“Please,” you shook your head as Sam held open the door for you both. Breaching the threshold, you felt the cool air and could breathe again. “I don’t care what you do. But don’t pretend you don’t care about what I do. I’m not interested! He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I don’t care!” Dean bickered after you like a seven-year-old. Baby was in sight and Sam was quick to get in the car.

You paused at the door handle of the back drivers side seat that you’d claimed as your own. Dean couldn’t see you as well through the mirror when you sat there and you could always make reactions to Sam from that side.

“If this is going to work then we need to be civil.”

“I have been being civil, sweetheart.” He stressed but was still aggravated. He may have been pent up, maybe grated by the snub of a lay.

“No,” you scoffed. “You haven’t and shit, neither have I but God, Dean, I think the last few hunts have been the worst I’ve ever been on because we fight all the time.”

“You’re gonna leave eventually,” Dean turned his body to rest his arms atop of Baby’s roof. “What’s the point?”

“Of being nice to each other?”

“You’ll go back to New York in what? Three weeks? And then who knows when we’ll see you again. With our luck maybe never so what’s the point?”

“I’d rather our last conversation together not be about hating each other. I don’t hate you, Dean.”

“Well that’s good,” he condemned. “But you don’t like me either.”

“I don’t think you like me very much either.”

Silence sat around Baby for what felt like the hundredth time since you joined them. You hated the silence that fell around Dean and yourself.

“In three weeks I’ll go back to my corner of the world and there’s a chance your dad will be back by then,” you laid out. “If you want to check in you can always call or call Bobby.”

“Bobby ain’t gonna tell me anything,” you looked at you as if to say ‘seriously?’

“You’re the closest thing he has to a son, Dean. He might love us both but he’s not evil enough to close us off.”

“No we just do that ourselves.”

“I don’t care if you sleep with other girls,” you brought up again. “But I’d appreciate a little courtesy. And in front of Sam? He doesn’t need to hear it either.”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek and looked out into the dark parking lot.

“It’s funny, you know… that this is where we’ve end up.”

“Three weeks,” you reminded him. “Then you don’t have to see me again.”

You opened the car door and slipped inside of the cab.

You can’t recall the last time you went to church on your own volition. The choice to spend time away from something more to pray to a power that had no proof of existence had befuddled you. It didn’t hurt that religious folk often soiled their own reputation with foot-in-mouth syndrome or the plain fact that the most devoted were the most wicked.

And you’d seen enough wickedness for one lifetime.

Sam and Dean had gathered that the victim turned out to be the reverends daughter in town. So, parked outside in Baby, the three of you scoped out the building before thinking of joining the service. Sam let the door close roughly behind him to where it squeaked on its hinges.

You slid into the pew behind Dean and looked around. The stained glass told the story of the damned rising to heaven on forgiveness.

“The loss of a young person is particularly tragic. A life unlived is the saddest of passings,” the Reverend focused on his congregation. A girl in the front, brown haired and innocent, peered back to where Sam sat last.

It didn’t surprise you that she caught his eye. Sam bled empathy—a stark contrast to the harshness of Dean’s stoney face and unless she was looking for sympathy from a woman, she didn’t bother to pass over you.

Sam gave her a tight smile.

His kindness wasn’t enough to heal wounds or make a difference in her life then, but you could see the string of connection bloom. It was the case that sucked you in too much, the one you couldn’t leave behind in the end.

“So, please, let us pray. For peace, for guidance, and for the power to protect our children.”

You didn’t feel the rays of Heaven bless you in prayer.

Once the service ended and the congregation exited their pews, Sam spotted Lori, the girl, outside along the sidewalk waving goodbye to her friend that had been sat beside her inside.

“So, what are we?” You asked Sam in the doorway.

“College students. We told the fraternity that we were brothers from another state so why change it. It worked, got us in.”

“Plus no badges, no investigations. We’re young enough.” Dean smiled widely at the two of you.

“Sam take the lead,” you stated. Sam nodded and walked around you to approach Lori. He stated the three of you as new transfer students with a knack for the Lord and what he offered.

“We don’t want to bother you,” Sam played the nervous, unwanted attention type well. “We heard about what happened.”

“And wanted to say how sorry we are,” Dean interjected.

“I kind of know what you’re going through. I kinda saw someone get hurt once. It’s something you don’t forget.”

Behind Lori, her father watched cautiously as she conversed with the three of you. He watched Sam and Dean, not you. You never were the threat for so many of these men you’ve encountered over the years. The Reverend finished his conversation and put a hand on Lori’s back.

“Dad,” Lori turned to her father’s presence. She introduced Sam, Dean, and yourself. “They’re new students.”

Dean extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir. I must say that was an inspiring sermon.”

You could have thrown up from the lying. Dean had never been inspired by men of God. They had only ever looked at him, at John, as false prophets to a cause they wouldn’t recognize as real. As you had determined before, the God fearing people of the planet were the worst of their kind.

Her father pondered at the three of you carefully. He took in Sam and Dean, judging their clothes and their hair and their attitudes along with their statures that stood tall. The Reverend held no reverence for you—squashed in-between the brothers like a little kid.

A twenty-something-woman settled between two twenty-something-men and they didn’t look alike? A sin in his playbook.

“Thank you very much. It’s so very nice to find young people who are open to the Lord’s message.”

Dean took the Reverend away from Sam and yourself. Lori, in the comfort of the two of you, shed light on what had happened and what she had heard and thought she’d seen. You thought she was holding herself remarkably well for someone who witnessed her date’s murder.

An hour later, Lori’s details had led you to strain your eyes over criminal records of the town. You knew two items to look: 1. It may have been the Hook Man’s urban legend and 2. It may also not be an urban legend but a ghost.

“I’ve got nothing but men murdering their wives and the odd death by horse,” you groaned into your hands as you rubbed your eyes.

Dean leaned back on his chair. He tossed his file folder further onto the table in defeat also.

“Nothin’” he reaffirmed. You could hear Sam’s sigh from behind you as he flipped through the pages of the next year.

“Hey,” Sam alerted. “Check this out.”

You turned in your chair as Dean took up a spot next to Sam. A preacher killed thirteen prostitutes after the immorality of the red light district had finally gotten to him. Dean picked up one of the pages that had old printings on it. He turned it in the direction of you who nodded after taking it in.

“Sounds like Jack the Ripper almost.”

“OoO,” Dean cooed. “I’d love to meet him.”

“So, nine mile road?” You questioned. “But what if he’s attached to Lori? He could go after her even if she’s not there.”

Sam hummed in agreement. “We’ll drop you outside of the sorority. You could just keep watch until we get back.”

Dean let out a laugh. “No way,”

You scowled at Dean. “Why not? That’s a fine plan.”

“We’re not leaving you out on sorority row on a Sunday night,” Dean came around from the bookcase and began cleaning up the files.

“I’m perfectly capable of handling myself.”

“Just leave her a gun and it will be fine.”

“We can just do this together, alright? I don’t know what’s so hard to understand about that.” Dean’s voice was gruff. The kind he’d use when he wanted something done his way over anyone else’s.

“Dean,” Sam sighed. “We need to cover ground. If she’s by Lori, then it’s one less life we have to worry about losing. What happens when the only girl who has seen this thing dies?”

“Then I’ll go. You two can go to nine mile road.”

“You are not sitting outside of a sorority house. If someone sees you, they’ll call the police,” Sam wanted to laugh but knew he couldn’t.

Dean closed the lid of the box with a long breath. “When we’re done, we are all staking out her place. Got it?”

Sam nodded, not willing to argue against his concession. Dean glanced at you and you could see the displeasure in his eyes. That stewing vexation; you were a bit peeved at his upset. Did he even have a right to be?

“I’m capable of more than this,” you told him as you stacked your box atop his. “Stop pretending that I’m incapable of what we’ve always know. It’s a ghost. It’s not going to kill us.”

“But wh—“

“But what about nothing. Nothing, Dean.” Sam graciously took the boxes back to the librarians desk to escape your conversation. “I asked us to be civil, not for you to be a bump in the road. We’ve faced worse than this.”

“Alright.” he walked off and left you at the table to clean up the rest.

No one would pick up the phone.

The voicemail kept replaying over and over. It’s generic, preset voice replaying the number and tone repeatedly until you had given up. You called five times and figured whatever had led them to not answer your call, it better have been better than this.

You were the one to hear Lori scream from inside the house.

Night had come and went with a snap and you woke between the trees of the fence and driveway to the sound of her screaming her lungs out on the second floor. An anonymous tip led the police to the sorority and while Lori had come out of the night unscathed, her roommate hadn’t.

Prompted again by the passing police men, you called Dean’s phone in hopes that he’d pick up. It rang twice and he did. He said your name through the receiver and it, for a brief moment, was the best sound you’d ever heard.

“Goddammit, Dean, where were you?” You spat into the phone. “I’ve been trying your phone all morning!”

“We got tied up with the brass,” he said casually on the other end.

“You were in jail?”

“We handled it. What’s the problem? Girls having pillow fights in their underwear?”

You removed the phone from your ear and closed your eyes. Dean never thought too hard into what he said. He was still twenty-one when his body became twenty-six.

“Lori’s roommate was killed,” you put the phone back to your ear. “If you two are doing dicking around maybe we can find this son of a bitch before it’s too late.”

Dean laughed. “Who lit the fire under your ass, sweetheart? I like it.”

“Just get here, please. I’m not sure how much longer they’re gonna accept the idea that I’m a pledge.”

“Nah,” Dean had a smile on his face. “You’ll pass just fine. You remember when I came to visit you at NYU? That Halloween—“

Dean removed the phone from his ear when the signal went dead. You’d hung up on him before he could finish and still had a victorious grin on his face while Sam looked on in slighted disappointment.

“You know,” Sam shook his head, “I really don’t get you two.”

“What?” Dean’s face drew flat at his brother. Sam weighed whether to go on as Dean’s words from weeks ago played through his memory.

“I don’t care if we grew up with her, I don’t care if we know her, I don’t care if everything goes to shit. You don’t get to talk about us.”

“I don’t know why you prod it like that.”

“Sam,” Dean scolded. “You say a lot of dumb shit sometimes but I never want to hear you say that again.”

“Poking the bear, I mean. Just be normal for once.”

“Just in case you haven’t noticed, Sam, but we’re not exactly normal to begin with.”

“I mean with her!” He exclaimed loudly. “You’re acting like a teenage boy who can’t get over his first crush. She knows what she’s doing and I wouldn’t have called her if I didn’t think she could.”

“We’re not having this conversation again,” Dean cut in. “I’m making amends. We’re trying to be civil—at least that’s what she said.”

“Then be a little less chauvinistic. Or for God sakes just treat her like a hunter if you can’t separate from having loved her once.”

“Be strangers… is that what you’re asking?”

“Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Dean went silent and Sam allowed it to settle. Baby’s roar drove them to the sorority house and to the back where you’d been standing beside the line of evergreen trees.

You let out a breath of relief at the sight.

“Jesus,” you muttered. “Took you long enough.”

“Can you get us in or do we have to, you know, climb the window?” Sam asked.

“There are girls in there yet. I don’t know why the police haven’t cleared the scene.”

“Because they haven’t faced something like this in years,” Dean tugged on the lattice along the siding. “They’re idiots. Real easy to convince that Sam’s a dumb ass pledge.”

Dean climbed up the lattice and went over the surrounding deck at the top. He motioned to Sam who tried to be inconspicuous as he climbed his tall, lanky body along the house. With you third, Dean grabbed your hand as you reached the top and helped tug you over.

Inside of making a comment or a chided facial expression, he dropped it and opened the window to the room.

The room was untouched from a morning interrupted. But the smell was unmistakable. It was a spirit.

“There,” you pointed to the bottom of the blood written message on the wall. “The cross.”

“I’ve seen that before,” Sam stated. Staring at it deeply, the image could have been hard to decipher had you had done the research before.

“The hook. It’s on the hook!”

“Karns’ pendant,” Dean ended the mystery.

“It’s a sigil, perhaps?” You questioned and the brother’s shrugged. Sam said he had papers scanned in Baby and recalled that Karns had a obituary attached to one of the scans.

And like the professionals you were, you slipped out of the sorority house and uncovered the story without anyone blinking an eye.

It began to drizzle the second you flipped on the flashlight.

Crickets chirping in the distance or beneath your feet, every branch tweaking or grass that blew the wrong way had you and Dean on high alert. Delegated with the task of burning and salting the bones of one Preacher Karns, Dean shouldered the bag of materials while you carried a flashlight and the shovel.

“Can I ask you a question?” Dean asked you as you followed a step behind.

“Shoot.”

“Why’d you answer Sam’s call?”

“I don’t know really,” you said honestly. “I had a feeling, I guess.”

“Intuition,” he pondered. “You didn’t see the caller id or…?”

“No.” You flashed the light along the graves scattered around you. None were unmarked. “I, well, I deleted your number from my phone after everything. I just… couldn’t.”

Dean nodded shallowly in understanding.

“He lied to me at first, you know? Said he was a reporter from a newspaper and that the front desk gave him the number. I thought it was a stupid mistake but maybe it was on purpose. Sam’s always been more intentional.”

“I don’t know he called you. I told him not to.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself, Dean.” With your flashlight, you walked around him and wandered through the graves.

“I know you think I’m an asshole,” he called after you. His steps catching up with the crunch of the grass. Dean’s shoulders were dusted with raindrops.

“Sometimes you are,” you answered honestly.

“And sometimes you’re a bitch,” he countered.

“I hope so,” you stopped again and flashed the light around. “You can’t always be a ‘nice girl’ and get what you want. Sometimes, you’ve got to be a right bitch and so be it.”

Dean never thought of the world that way. He’d been so focused on what he had known, what he had learned to know through his father and if his mother had lived a long life, he’d understand women like you better.

“When we find my dad, maybe we could start over.”

His words took you aback. Start over? For what? To when? There was no world in which you could start over with Dean Winchester. He’d follow you into every lifetime, every decade, and every story but you’d never start over.

“You really think having your dad back is going to make our lives easier?”

“Yeah,” he believed so. “But I know he doesn’t want to be found. That’s why he’s sending us on a goose chase.”

“Then maybe we can’t start over.”

“What do you, uh,” Dean steered the conversation as the graves around you went moot again, “think Sam’s up to?”

“Probably watching over her just like he said he would. Sam isn’t the lying type, you know that.”

“Remember how I told you about Jessica?”

“His girlfriend?” You recalled. “Yeah.”

“And how he wasn’t sleeping well?”

“You said he wasn’t doing well. Those are two separate things, Dean.”

“For the past two weeks, he hasn’t sleep a whole night.”

You kept looking around you until finally, you spotted the grave marked by the same symbol. You tipped your head in the direction of the grave illuminated by your flashlight and Dean dropped the bag.

“I’m going to assume you know that because you’re not sleeping either?” It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Well someone took the bed I was using… the floor isn’t great.”

The second night on the road was the first time Dean had been decent to you since you reunited. Without a fight, he had offered you the bed he claimed every time and took the floor. It felt wrong but he wouldn’t listen to an argument. He simply took the pillows from the side he’d always claim as his own and laid them down at the foot of the bed.

“I told you that you didn’t have to sleep on the floor,” you defended. Dean took the shovel and broke ground.

“You know what happens when we share a bed, sweetheart.”

“Anyway,” you motioned for him to continue with a roll of your eyes. “Sam?”

“I was just gonna say that I think he’s projecting on this girl.” You kicked clumps of grass out of the way.

“They have something in common at least. Not to mention that she’s not going bat-shit-crazy for seeing what she has. Lori’s… fine, by all means of the word.”

Dean paused digging for a second to shed his leather jacket. You took it from his hands and laid it across a headstone not far from where you were standing.

“We need to be looking out for him. I-can’t explain it. I can feel it. Like how you felt something about answering the call. It’s stupid—“

“It’s not stupid, Dean. It’s alright,” you reassured. He didn’t deserve your security. “We have each others backs no matter what, yeah?”

Dean ducked his head to pick the ground with the shovel. As he gripped the handle, you couldn’t help but look at the way his arms tightened and the lines became more prominent.

“If you’ve got my back, you think you could grab the shovel in the bag and start digging? Otherwise this is gonna take me all night.”

You smiled at him honestly for the first time in awhile.

“Sure. Let’s burn this son of a bitch.”

Everything had gotten worse after you had burnt and salted the bones with Dean.

It hadn’t solved anything.

Lori’s father had been attacked after Sam unveiled the Reverend’s own immorality that Lori deemed sinful. It was clear that Lori was the summoner—or at least the living attachment the poltergeist had to this world. It was also abundantly clear after Sam asked about the hook that a piece of this monster was still roaming the earth, even if not made of flesh and bone.

You knew there was no hook. Surely Dean would have made a comment, tried it on for shits and giggles before burning the bones. But he hadn’t and when Sam called panicked at the local hospital, it gave neither of you time to process that the feature hadn’t been there.

“What do you think happened to it?” Dean asked Sam with worry on his face that this may be the first case in a long time they couldn’t solve.

“His belongings were returned to the church.”

“The church where Lori’s dad’s a Reverend?”

“The same one,” Sam saw a silver lining. Although, it did not mean the hook was there or even in its original form.

“We could rip that place apart and still never find it,” you interjected. “What material was it made from?”

“Silver,” Sam informed.

“Think about it,” you folded your arms in front of you. “It’s 1860, it’s a church in a small community… you think they get silver like that everyday?”

“Reforged?” Dean inquired.

“That’s the best bet, wouldn’t it be? Felon’s items are donated, can’t keep the murder weapons—the public wouldn’t have liked that. Church needs to keep up its image after their Preacher goes on a spree… reforge. Forget it happened.”

“We could burn the silver in the furnace. I’m sure it’s hot enough.” Sam and Dean were quick to make an exit which had you scrambling behind.

“That could be thousands of pieces of silver!”

“You said it yourself!” Sam called out to you. “It’s a small town church!”

There was a frantic pace to the gathering. Everything from candlesticks to crucifixes to the handles of drawers needed to be sifted through in minutes.

Your hands tossed whatever silver you could find down the stairs to the basement to where Dean threw them in the furnace. Sam tossed you a chalice that looked like something out of Indiana Jones.

You threw it down the stairs and heard Dean go: “hey! This is like—“ and you felt the sentiment of starting over to grow even more impossible. Sam had left and come back in seconds with nothing more in his hands.

“I got nothing,” he panted as the sounds of Dean’s clattering went quiet.

“That it?” Dean shouted from the basement.

“That’s it,” you responded as Sam and yourself joined him beside the furnace.

“If this doesn’t do it, I don’t know what else could.”

“The a-“ your words got lost in space as the ceiling began to creak and the dirt between the boards rained down on you. Sam took the lead up the steps and with a peak, the back of Lori’s head sat in one of the pews near the front of the church.

Sam motioned for you and Dean to fall back and although Dean wanted to keep Sam in his sights, he walked back into the basement to watch the silver burn.

“He’ll be ok, Dean,” you soothed. “Sam can handle himself too.”

“I know he can,” he replied more aggravated than he should have. “I know.”

He paced around the basement to look for more silver. Dean grabbed a couple items and tossed them into the furnace.

“Too bad all this silver is going to waste… could’ve paid for better motels,” you attempted to joke but he didn’t budge.

“I just want to pro—“ this time, a shriek cut Dean off.

Above you, the thunderous roar of footsteps began to escalate around the exit of the church. The walls shook as they took the brunt of the blow from what you were both quick to assume was Jacob Karns finally manifesting himself for the end.

“Sam!” Dean yelled as he sprinted to his bag and grabbed the shotgun loaded with rock salt. “Stay here!” He shouted at you.

“Tough shit, Dean!” You argued back as you followed him up the steps and grabbed a fire poker on the way out. You knew it was worthless against a spirit like Karns but it was better than empty hands.

Through the wide halls of the church, the carpets bunched up as the speed of which Dean was running made them hazards. He followed the sounds of Lori’s screams, the grunts of Sam, and the damage of Karns’ destruction.

“Sam, drop!” Dean rose the shotgun and fired a blow into Karns’ back. He disappeared for a moment.

“I thought we got all the silver!” Sam panted.

“So did we!”

“Lori,” you caught your breath. “Where did you get that necklace?” Everyone’s eyes went to her chest as a cross laid in silver dangling on a matching chain.

“My father gave it to me?”

“Where’d your dad get it?” Dean was quick to ask.

“He said it was a church heirloom!”

“Is it silver?” Sam pressed.

“Yes!” She panicked. Sam grabbed the necklace from her neck and tugged hard which allowed it to break.

Behind you, the cracking of the drywall split with the hook of Karns. Dean turned his head, watching it break into pieces and itch its way closer and closer. He grabbed your arm and pulled you in tightly.

“We’ve got to get to the furnace,” you told him. “That’s it. I know it is.”

“Give me the necklace Sam,” Dean swapped his shotgun for the necklace and Karns’ hook reappeared on the ceiling to the Reverend’s quarters.

“Go!” Sam yelled at Dean who stumbled on his feet to get around you. You remained with Sam and Lori, guiding her and yourself around the desk as Sam tried to stand with an injured arm and fire the gun.

“Come on,” you muttered as the ghost appeared before you. Sam raised his hand but the gun was knocked from him in a weak toss.

There was nothing standing between you and the afterlife besides Dean.

You backed up as far as you could go beside Sam and Lori—the latter who hadn’t stopped panicking the entire time. Sam scrambled into your legs and wedged his body above your foot.

This hunt had been the definition of easy sans this moment. These were always the moments where you wished you were at home in your bed and safe from the world that existed in the nether between here and there.

“Sam!” You shouted at him as though he could do anything more than you.

“Come on, Dean!” Sam prayed.

And then like a crackle from a tiny spark, you heard it. A fire ignited beneath Karns. It caught on his clothes and hair; hook melted into thin air as the burn of Lori’s cross finally sent him away for good. At peace in the in between.

Dean sprinted up the steps and ran as quickly as he could to the office where he’d left the three of you. The relief washed over him as three sets of eyes met his safe and relatively unharmed.

You felt Sam sag against your leg and you knew it was over.

In the back of Baby, you sat adding to your own journal the events of the week.

Dean sat in the drivers seat while Sam said his goodbyes to a girl he’d never see again. The radio was playing faintly while the windows cracked let in the cool air of Iowa.

It was quiet and content and at ease with the visitors inside of the Impala.

Dean watched in his side mirror Sam hesitate around Lori. His schoolboy stance with his bag slung over his shoulder and his hair falling into his face; Sam shuffled on his feet.

He was nervous, but he was himself. And that was something Dean couldn’t say about himself.

The eldest Winchester peered into the rear view and thought for a moment that they could stay. That this small little town could bridge a gap that Sam had been longing for and bring some normalcy in their very ‘not normal’ lives.

He saw you in the back picking apart your writing which only made him think of the career you left behind for them.

Dean felt guilty for not giving what was necessary. However, he couldn’t provide it. He couldn’t will it within him to bargain an honest offer other than, “we could stay?” to Sam as he sat in the passenger seat and you strapped on your seatbelt.

The obvious answer would always be no.

Because with the Winchester’s, there was no place to call home.

[callmebrycelee]

9-1-1 REACTION

These are my confessions, just when I thought that I was starting to fall in love, my boyfriend unceremoniously decided to dump me.

After a week off and a presidential election that felt like a season of American Horror Story, we finally got a new episode of the gay firefighter show. Unfortunately I was spoiled by the episode's ending courtesy of Tumblr but nothing could've ever prepared me for how infuriating things would get. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning. This reaction is for the season 8, sixth episode "Confessions" which originally aired November 7th, 2024. The episode was written by Andrew Meyers and directed by Life Goes On and Pretty Little Liars actor, Chad Lowe! Spoilers ahead!

Best plot?

This week's episode focuses on a handful of our main characters. We finally get some time with Eddie and we get a bonkers storyline involving Buck and Tommy. However, it is Maddie and Chimney's plot that is my favorite. A few episodes ago, Hen and Karen regained custody of Mara which means Jee-Yun is back to being an only child. Maddie laments that Jee-Yun is having trouble adjusting to a life where Mara isn't her big sister anymore even though the two see quite a bit of each other. She suggests having a second child but Chimney has some trepidation about having another kid.  During an emergency involving a little kid getting stuck in a drain pipe a la "Eddie Begins", Chimney consoles his older brother who blames himself for his little brother wandering off and winding up in a dangerous situation. The little boy (played by Tiberius Byrd) volunteers himself to be lowered down in the pipe so he can pull his absolutely adorable baby brother out of the drain. Afterwards, Chimney warms to the idea of having a little brother or sister for Jee-Yun.

In their final scene, Chimney and Maddie have a raw and open conversation regarding their concerns about having another child. Chimney tearfully tells Maddie that if she is ever feeling sad or overwhelmed, she needs to come to him. She doesn't get to leave or try to figure it out on her own. He asks for total and complete transparency. Wow! I think we sometimes forget that while Maddie is a trauma magnet, Chimney has been right there since the beginning experiencing those tragedies with her. He went through the Doug situation with her. He spent six months raising Jee-Yun on his own while looking for Maddie. For him, having another child could send Maddie back down that same dark path again.

Now Maddie has some conditions of her own. She tells Chimney that they can't go into her pregnancy acting like she's broken. Oh, and yes you read that correctly. Maddie is pregnant! Yay!!! This is the best thing to come out of the episode and it makes me excited for this couple. Hopefully this time around, things will be much better for them.

Best emergency sequence?

We got three emergency sequences this episode but the best by far is the one involving veteran actor Jonathan Silverman. The Weekend at Bernie's and more recently Goosebumps actor plays a man named Walter Schaffer who is in the middle of a nasty divorce. His soon-to-be ex-wife, Liza Schaffer (played by Silverman's real-life wife Jennifer Finnigan) points out that Walter sneezes when he's lying and Walter has been sneezing a LOT! As things reach a boiling point between the two, Walter lets out one last sneeze which causes his stomach to split open and his guts to fall out. I really wish I could've taken a picture of my mom when this happened, She hasn't been this horrified by a 9-1-1 show since Owen Strand decided to perform CPR on a man frozen solid by his cryotherapy chamber. 

This whole scene is mostly played for laughs even though Walter has been eviscerated. After last episode's gut-wrenching accident involving Denny Wilson, it was nice to have a low stakes emergency. Also, it was good to see Jonathan Silverman. I love when they bring veteran actors in to have them perform these small roles. It's one of the reasons I like Ryan Murphy shows so much. He always pays homage to the legends. Oh, and Walter is okay. Even though he spilled his guts, he's still a creep! You made the right decision, Liza!

Episode MVP?

This was a tough one. None of our main characters did anything particularly outstanding this week. This episode is giving filler but I still enjoyed it. However, since I do need to pick someone to be this week's MVP, I'm going to choose everyone's favorite dispatcher - Josh Russo. Josh mostly serves as comic relief in this series but I thought what he had to say to Buck was particularly noteworthy. As someone who is part of the pre-Glee world. I relate so hard to what people like Josh and Tommy have gone through as gay men. I graduated in the early-2000s and even though life was much improved for LGBTQ+ people than let's say the 70s, 80s, and 90s, I still didn't feel comfortable coming out until my late-20's. Buck's coming out was so simple and much of that is due in part to the queer people that came before him. I'm sure someone like Josh had a difficult time prior to coming out and Tommy went as far as getting into a serious relationship with a woman before he finally made the decision to come out. Had the end of this episode gone a lot differently, I think Josh's monologue would be even better. I also love that he called Buck in instead of calling him out. I wish we got more scenes with Josh and Buck because as of right now they are the only two queer male characters on the show. 

 BuckTommy Corner

I've been dreading writing this part of the reaction mostly because it might be the last BuckTommy Corner we ever get. A lot of fellow shippers online seem to think that we may see Buck and Tommy reunite but the ending of this episode has me convinced that we aren't getting the BuckTommy endgame many of you have been asking for since the two first touched lips. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself again.

After last episode's stellar development of Buck and Tommy's relationship, this episode's writer decided to burn it all down. Our first scene between Buck and Tommy finds them back where it all began. It's their six-month anniversary and Tommy has gotten Buck basketball tickets. Things seem to be going swimmingly between the two of them until some hot blonde comes over and asks Buck to take a picture of her and her friends. Buck seems very awkward by the situation but Tommy assures him it's okay for him to find other women attractive. Whew! Crisis averted! I was so sure this was going to be the conflict of the episode.

Then we get Tommy admitting to Buck that he is a Kinsey scale six which means he's g-g-gay ... even though once upon a time he was engaged to a 9-1-1 dispatcher with the most amazing hair. Yes, folks, Tommy Kinard was engaged to Abby Clark. Tommy mentions that after he ended things, Abby went on to date a himbo. Buck is completely shooketh by this revelation and goes to his sister for advice. This is where we get the fantastic monologue from Josh. Buck decides to come clean to Tommy and figures that this changes nothing about their relationship.

Tommy apologizes for calling Buck a himbo and the latter asks Tommy to move in with him. Then everything goes to absolute shit. Tommy spouts some bullshit about being Buck's first (male) relationship but he will not be his last. Tommy says he doesn't want to get his heart broken again and then throws up the deuces to a very confused Buck. I'm sorry, y'all! What in the absolute hell just happened! I don't know who that man was. I know he looked like Lou Ferrigno Jr. playing Tommy Kinard but it's like some alien took over Tommy's body during this scene. This is not the same man we have gotten to know over the few seasons. Yes, Tommy did have some reservations about getting into a relationship with Buck so soon after his coming out but they squashed all of that way back in 7x05. Since then, these two have been building something amazing only to have it blown up so unceremoniously at the end of this episode.

Now, as I mentioned prior, the ending to this episode was spoiled. After learning about the breakup, I immediately went to the BuckTommy Reddit and learned that others were as similarly confused as I was. To make matters worse, it appears that Lou Ferrigno Jr, is as equally flummoxed by the decision to end things as the viewers, which is not a good look for the show. Why give us all that development in "Masks" only for Tommy to exit stage left. Thankfully, Lou announced that he will be returning to S.W.A.T. so I'm comforted that I will get to see him again in a skin-tight black T-shirt. One thing I will say about Lou is the man stays working. Check out his IMDb. He may not be the series lead but he stays working and he will continue to work because he seems to be an extremely competent and professional actor. 

The end of this episode left a bad taste in my mouth and I'm not just saying that because of the BuckTommy breakup. I've somewhat suspected that things have not been good with this show for a very long time but as long as I got scenes with Buck and Tommy, I was willing to keep going. This show is in its eighth season and we keep putting these characters through the same paces. Eddie's still trying to figure out how to be a good dad to Christopher seven seasons later. Maybe the show is getting a bit stale? I dunno. This episode just felt less fun for some reason. Perhaps I need to watch it again.

With that said, I will continue to watch 9-1-1 because I do love the characters on this show and the actors that play them. Oh, and by the way, please do not give Lou or Oliver any hate for simply playing what was written for them. Also, a lot of you are upset with Oliver and calling him biphobic. Now, do I think he said some problematic things in the last interview he did? Yes. Do I think he needs to be nailed to the cross for it? Absolutely not! I think we as viewers and members of the LGBTQ+ community need to take a page out of the Book of Josh and start calling people in instead of calling people out. We are very reactionary people and I totally get it. Being part of a marginalized group (or two, or three) especially here in America is rough and we find ways to protect ourselves to prevent harm from being inflicted on us. With that said, I believe it is quite possible to take an ally to task without potentially alienating them. As an elder, millennial gay, I think that's something we can all get better at! Until next time ...

[raezlove]

Dragon Age: The Veilguard

I finished it after 90 hours over the last week. I did all quests and side content available to me and was pretty thorough with notes and momentos. I was hooked from the start, definitely saw why the writing got criticized during the middle, and then was continually surprised by the end sequence.

For me this was a solid 7/10 game if looking at it from a linear story game rather than a branching rpg.

Thoughts below. Some spoilers.

Starting with some general categories then moving on to larger issues I had.

I’d say the majority of the voice actor performances were really good. There were moments throughout where they weren’t great but that was combined from the very cringe/generic writing. But when the characters needed the emotion for a moving scene, I felt it. Even characters I, at the time didn’t care for or were biased against, the voice actor’s performance made me hurt for them.

Companion cast had some gems as well as some underwhelming members. For me I was taken by Lucanis, Emmrich, Neve, and Davrin as characters. They still weren’t spared from poor lines throughout though. Bellara came around for me by the end as I had initially been biased hearing she was incredibly annoying but I also didn’t have her in my party very often for gameplay reasons. Taash and Harding I also rarely took out for gameplay reasons nor did they pull me in as companion characters.

Companion arc quest lines I enjoyed them all well enough but I liked Davrin and Harding’s the best for world and lore building,though I admit the actual quests for Harding felt lacking to me. The map locations also didn’t feel utilized as they were only ever seen those couple times. Bellara’s quest was also interesting for lore but other than the ending, which was not unexpected, felt mundane to me. Lucanis’s and Emmrich’s were decent arcs though they didn’t feel like anything groundbreaking, it just helped that I had already found their characters compelling. Neve’s was very underwhelming to me which was disappointing because I initially was quite intrigued by Neve. Taash’s was done as well as they could’ve with the direction they decided paired with their safe writing. I mean no disrespect for them wanting to include a gender queer story but something about this didn’t land. I saw someone else say it but the modern lingo in this fantasy setting made it seem out of place just for the sake of it. I don’t know how they could’ve implemented that aspect of Taash better but their writing and performance came across too stiff at times. ((This is not an issue of including lgbt characters, rather how they are written and if they are pushed to be defined solely by that one sole aspect of their identity))

Art design and world direction was never an issue for me even from the trailers (except for that first one where I thought I was watching a live service mobile trailer). I don’t mind brighter exaggerated designs or flashy colors. Nothing stood out but nothing was bad either, it was just an average design to me. As mentioned above though there were specific locations I felt were underutilized and sometimes felt included just to make the map seem bigger. I liked the character designs but outfit choices were definitely not my favorite and I wished they had an all black outfit for Rook but that’s just an irrelevant personal wish.

The callbacks to Inquisition were something I was incredibly curious to how they would handle and was looking forward to. For transparency, my original Inquisitor romanced Solas and refused to give up on him so I was holding out for my Solavellan heart to be fixed or at least something that dulled the ache. The Inquisitor appearances were about what I expected. Lavellan shows up a couple times, sends some letters, then shows up for the finale. I did get my Solavellan ending and while selfishly I wish it could’ve been more, I think it was adequate (though that kiss animation left something to be desired). It felt like an appropriate end for my Lavellan who was so sad and beaten down for so long after losing someone she loved with her entire being and after having the weight of so many people looking to her for guidance for the last decade when she never asked for the responsibility in the first place. She finally got to save her person and leave the world’s problems to someone else. As for Dorian, I’m not sure if he shows up/is mentioned more if you saved Minrathos but his appearances kind of felt unnecessary. I loved him in Inquisition but he didn’t feel properly utilized in the Minrathos story lines I saw. He could’ve just been a name in letters and he would’ve had the same impact.

Main Story was a trip. Overall I found it intriguing and compelling, though sometimes it dragged or some missions were boring. I enjoyed Ghilan’nain and Elgar’nan as villains though Ghilan’nain was more interesting with her molding the blight. Elgar’nan was compelling as a direct comparison to Solas with their pride and arrogance. Their dragons were cool though I really wondered how we were supposed to fight Elgar’nan’s dragon after seeing its size. The end solution did make my jaw drop but also made me chuckle after because I can’t imagine how else they would’ve had the player fight that. Again, I’m biased as I loved Solas as a character for all his complexities and flaws so I enjoyed any of his scenes and appearances. I especially enjoyed the story’s direction in terms of regrets and guilt. Prison sequence was a highlight to be sure. I will also say I really wasn’t expecting them to commit to main companion cast consequences at the end considering how safe they had played it to that point.

Gameplay was a welcome improvement to me over Inquisition. I played Inquisition for the first time about 3 years ago as a mage but I played it again in the last year as a rogue. Both times I played on easy difficulty because I found combat such a nuisance. I am biased as I prefer combat systems more in the realm of Witcher 3 and Breath of the Wild so this fit in with that if a bit busier. I played my Rook as a mage and I tended to use the ability wheel rather than the shortcuts because I needed the time to process and think about what I wanted to do, also the fact I kept switching companions and their abilities depending on the situation I couldn’t remember what abilities were mapped to what buttons. Dodge and parry didn’t feel the best, although I admit that could be fully on me (especially parry). For parry it constantly felt like there was a delay in pressing it though it could very well have been made worse depending on which tv my Xbox was connected to. My issue with dodge was the fact that after a double it basically left you halted with no momentum. Again, very possible it’s just a me thing and I need to “get good” but for how much certain encounters were chaotic enough to be constantly dodging it did become annoying especially if you get hit once and then get caught repeatedly. On normal difficulty as a mage, fights usually felt fair and doable with some more challenging than others depending on wave size or vulnerability paired with specific companions. There was only one fight in a miscellaneous side quest for a haunting that I got too annoyed with and even after trying multiple companion pairings I lowered the difficulty to just get it over with because I couldn’t be bothered. For a random side quest with no real story or likely payoff it didn’t feel worth it.

Now for the largest problem I had with this game: it’s gall to call it an RPG. I don’t expect or need Balder’s Gate level in every RPG game. But this didn’t feel like it even met the level of RPG that Inquisition offered. Whether it was world choices or companion choices very few things felt consequential. For the world, I can only think of 2 or 3 choices that I felt would have any change on the world one of which is literally just a 50/50 of which city is getting destroyed. And of course for the others you never saw or heard and real consequences or reactions aside from initially following the decision. There was nothing that made me second guess myself like deciding to forgive or banish the wardens like in Inquisition, who drinks from the well, the inquisitions fate. And for companion arcs, the choices all felt underwhelming and more a direct effect on gameplay/rewards than any story ramifications. There was never a moment that felt like it mattered to the companion story or their future interactions with me or others. Nothing that felt like it mattered like making Bull choose between his friends and the Qun, encouraging/dissuading Cullen from taking Lyrium, or having a hand in choosing the new Divine. A common thought I had throughout this game was it seemed really hard to get a “so and so disapproves”. There seemed to be more instances in Inquisition where decisions would inevitably be both approved and disapproved by various characters so it was never going to be a case of pleasing everyone. I remember seeing the disapprove notification maybe three times in Veilguard. The critique of the dialogue wheel is also very valid. There is no real choice as all options typically lead to the same outcome just with a different line. You can’t even really be mean or an asshole from what I could tell. Options were sincere, joking/less serious, and stern. None of this I think would’ve mattered as much if it weren’t for the fact this was advertised as a choice based RPG when that just isn’t the case and going in with those expectations is bound for disappointment.

As a last issue it had to do with romance. I liked Lucanis. I like him as a character and I like the voice actor’s delivery. There were lines of his that made me giggle and smile. But the overall writing of the romance and their moments sometimes came across as awkward with the subpar writing. There also wasn’t the same charm I got from Inquisition when at the base. Part of that comes from the lack of actual interactions of being able to talk with your companions in the lighthouse. I hate to keep comparing it but in Inquisition you could still talk to the characters even if they had no new dialogue. In that, you’d have the moments where Solas would call you vhenan or speak Elven or like in my second with Cullen you always had the stealing away for a kiss option. It just felt warmer in a way where in The Veilguard I would get a random one off line when I stood in front of Lucanis and, while some of them were sweet, the lack of player input and interaction caused more disconnect.

So overall as a game I think it’s a good buy assuming you go in with the right framing of what you’re going to be getting. A competent story, some interesting characters, good performance, good gameplay marred by a good helping of juvenile safe writing and lack of choice.

[nikofortuna]

JTTW Chapter 59 Thoughts

Chapter 59 for the @journeythroughjourneytothewest Reading Group!

In the German translation this starting poem is just a little different in the details and I like that it mentions the three-legged golden crow. They show up in Fabulous Beasts as well including a scene where the archer Hou Yi shoots down the nine suns, which thinking about that story in the context of the suns being birds it makes so much sense.

Woodcutters seem to just be the most chill guys in all of Journey to the West. They are always nice and helpful and do not bat an eye at Sun Wukong’s appearance whatsoever.

That does make me curious as to why the people of that village think of Princess Iron-Fan as a he. Or was it perhaps just a misunderstanding on Sun Wukong’s part? While in this translation the old man also called her by he, perhaps the original Chinese used a gender-neutral pronoun and that’s where the confusion stems from.

Hmmm, how could she possibly get to see her son again… Oh, I do not know, but maybe request for Sun Wukong to ask Guanyin to let her see him sometime? Sun Wukong even suggests it himself. It is really not that complicated or difficult, Guanyin is kind and she would probably be fine with it. Make it a boarding school type of thing where Hong Hai’er gets to see his relatives on set holidays or something of the like.

I do feel this whole conflict could have been handled by just talking it out. Like Princess Iron-Fan did not say she would not lend him her fan outright, just that she cannot give it away that easily. Sun Wukong could have just asked her to come along to extinguish the mountain herself.

Ah, there is the misogyny rearing its head again. We went through such a fine arc with the Kingdom of Women already, one would think they would tone it down after that.

Careful now if she fans him too often he will just come back from the opposite direction!

Oh it would have been funny if Princess Iron-Fan had not budged after being hit in the lower abdomen along the lines of ‘I have given birth before, you think that little bit of pain will make me cave?’ and only react to the chest pain.

Is Zhu Bajie suggesting going around the mountain? Finally they address this! Though the explanation why they cannot just go around the obstacle only works in the context of all of this being an allegory, if taken at face value it makes no real sense.

[djevelbl]

I went back to rewatch the guy's (Frostbyte Freeman on yt, btw) video - more specifically, the part where he talks about Whitepine - to see if I'd misinterpreted anything, taken his words out of context in a bout of misdirected anger and a sense of offense at his opinion, had completely missed the point by nitpicking some obscenely specific issue as a gotcha! moment, anything, really. It feels bizarrely weird, I guess, to be so hung up on this random dude's words, vague-posting about it on a platform I'm not entirely sure he's even on or not (it's a toss-up, really) and going slightly off the rails in anger at his (perceived, of course) stupidity; so, I went back to hear his opinion on the series again, especially when in contrast to the other two. Kinda to say one last thing, and then let the topic die. The thing is, he never spoke of Whitepine's story - it was always the artistic intention, the clear love put behind its creation, the color palette, the cinematography. Never the story. Which, y'know, you'd expect would be the point of discussing minecraft storytelling? And he hides behind calling the process of explaining Whitepine and its nuances as "doing it a disservice" - well, I don't give a fuck about "doing it a disservice", because if you're doing a video essay on the fucking topic of minecraft STORYTELLING you better be ready to talk about the fucking STORY, GENIUS; so, what's Whitepine's story? ... Kinda hard to say. The wiki says it is: "a minecraft series developed by IvoryTV and posted on YouTube, where a newly hired maid is tasked with taking care of the members of the Hemlocke Family and to prioritize their every need. However, what was suppose to be a normal job turned disastrous as the maid's next day was struck by the tragedy of a murder case in the Whitepine Estate." Which is true, the story is a period drama and a murder mystery - Frosty over here decides to use different words, however:

"Whitepine is a 2024 period drama serial written and directed by IvoryTV. It is the story of a mysterious young woman (maid) assigned to work for a wealthy manor that is, if not literally, then figuratively haunted by shadows of the past - hers, and everyone else's."

Personally I find that interesting cuz like, while it's implied that's the case (in terms of the "shadows of the past" comment) I have no idea where in the fuck he got that from - except maybe he came up with it?? He's SO wordy oh my god, half the time I didn't get what tf he was talking about. My point is: he could've used the official description, he could've omitted mentioning the murder if he was OH SO INSISTENT on not spoiling anything, yet instead uses a description that puts more emphasis on aspects of the series BARELY EVEN EXPLORED RIGHT NOW instead of on the oh idk FUCKING MURDER???? He goes around willy-nilly speaking of certain aspects of the story while willfully concealing others in the name of "not spoiling the experience".

And my biggest problem with the inclusion of Whitepine as one of the three different stories he wanted to comment on, is the fact that Whitepine is barely starting - it doesn't have enough of anything right now to call a story beyond the first foundations of it, and no matter how pretty it looks or how beautiful the songs are, if your story has no, well, story then it doesn't matter. It's empty. I don't say this as a critique to the series itself - again, barely starting; I don't like punching under the belt - but more as a critique to the tunnel vision that Frosty was exhibiting as he wrote the script out; doesn't it make you wonder if, at ANY POINT of his video creating process, he read over the Whitepine section and thought "hm. is it appropriate to talk about a series with only 2 episodes (as of making that video) and not a lot of story, bc I think it's pretty?" cuz I sure as all hell wished he did

I just. what was the point? Whitepine doesn't have enough story right now to be thrown into an analysis with stories like Unstable Universe (which is WELL underway) and Parkour Civilization (which is LITERALLY FINISHED), and do it justice - it has its character moments and beautiful music, it has its great cinematography and intriguing mystery, but story? No. Not right now. And it's just because it was started a few months ago - I'm sure that in time it's gonna be the next best story that has ever been recorded in Minecraft, no doubt. But until that happens: if I ever see this guy on the street I'm giving him the london treatmen, if you will /j

Also just finished watching a video that made me ACTUALLY ANNOYED at the guy who made it and like. ok if you don't want a story told through Minecraft that is made through the lens of content creation in ANY capacity then don't??? watch stories told through Minecraft????? Cuz like. they're mostly like that; even parkciv which is still good IS done through a content creation viewpoint — either as a parody on the medium it was being told through (scripted Minecraft content/Minecraft storytelling) or just as a result of telling the story and like. needing to pay the bills or whatever is a bit up in the air I guess BUT STILL. don't sing praises to a series that's GREAT in all cinematography aspects that JUST SO HAPPENS to be told through Minecraft all the while you're saying "oooh Minecraft storytelling shouldn't be scared of being called cringe just bc it's embracing roleplay to tell it's narrative, it shouldn't pretend to be non-scripted when it so clearly is" which true, JUST TO THEN critique parkciv for...

*checks notes*

... Embracing its medium AND its limitations to tell its story, JUST bc it didn't necessarily strive to be groundbreaking??? What??????

From what I understand, the series the guy was singing praises to like it was his own child at the local school's dance recital, Whitepine (which I'm currently watching so I'll just come back to this once I've finished — let's see if I'll eat my words [doubt it]) is GREAT in terms of visuals, audio and the likes — it obviously takes great care in forming its atmosphere and from the little I've seen the youtubers are genuinely being actors, not just their normal selves masquerading as characters (something that, admittedly, happens A LOT in scripted Minecraft content/Minecraft storytelling like SMPs or solo series [I'm looking at you, later half of the DSMP]). But it isn't Minecraft storytelling — in my opinion, at least.

Minecraft storytelling implies that it includes Minecraft and its mechanics in some way, shape or form that becomes impactful to the story that is being told — it isn't just a REALLY good story that just so happens to use Minecraft as its movie set. This, ultimately, is why I think the guy was wrong — not necessarily in the idea that the stories he critiqued had more room to grow (which parkciv at least does. I haven't watched ParrotX2's Unstable Universe videos and I don't really plan to; they're not my thing) but in what "Minecraft storytelling" should strive to be.

I have a vivid memory — trust me, this is related — of when I was younger (they say, like she's an octogenarian instead of not even being halfway through his lifetime. anyway) having played Minecraft Murder Mystery with my friends in the playground bc I really REALLY liked Gona89's video series on it. This is like, not really the same storytelling but they did have a sort of story — the chemistry between the youtubers felt like watching a series of characters interact with one another, and certain jokes from one video would seamlessly move into the next as well.

And y'know what? IT DIDN'T FUCKING WORK — playing the thing in the playground, that is. Because the thing wasn't made for that; stories have their medium of expression because they're tailored to it, or the medium is tailored to that story — if your Minecraft story can be told perfectly fine when divorced from its primary medium of expression (Minecraft), then it's LITERALLY not a Minecraft story: it just happens to use the game as the backdrop

... Kinda like The Lego Movie: a lot of the mechanics within the movie CANNOT be divorced from lego that easily BECAUSE it's a fucking LEGO MOVIE — partially related but not really the point of this rant: this is why A Minecraft Movie's trailer fucking FLOPPED. It showed absolutely NO POINT in being made bc it's NOT a Minecraft movie (pun accidentally stumbled upon but I shall confidently roll with it, actually), instead it JUST SO HAPPEN to use the videogame as its set.

TLDR: IF YOUR STORY DOESN'T INCLUDE MECHANICAL ELEMENTS THAT ARE INTRINSICAL TO THE GAME YOU USE TO TELL IT, THEN SAID GAME IS JUST THE FUCKING SET. IT'S NOT A MINECRAFT MOVIE JUST BC IT HAPPENS TO BE RECORDED IN MINECRAFT FOR FUCK'S SAKE

[hermemescabin]

Annabeth forgave her dad, let it go

A person reconciling with a neglectful and/or abuse parent in real life is a very personal choice that you have the right to make for yourself.

A character who grew up in an abusive and/or neglectful house in fiction, only to have this neglect invalidated by the author, is a totally different matter. Personally I never felt that Rick gave me enough reason to believe Frederick is redeemed. Also he's fictional and my opinion won't hurt him. I just don't like him.

At the end of the day we're all going to interpret these things differently and I welcome you to disagree if you feel like it.

[starry-bi-sky]

Danyal Al Ghul's missed potential - this kid is not gonna behave like his canon self if he's with the league of assassins until his late formative years, and my reasoning why

(feel free to take this all with a grain of salt this is just my thoughts on it, this is all mostly amusing to me and isn't trying to be negative towards anyone else)

similar to how i was talking about how danny growing up in crime alley would affect him, demon twin aus with danyal al ghul make me laugh a lot (affectionate) because... whose teaching danny to unlearn all the ecofascism he picked up from the league of assassins? whose teaching him to be kind? to be gentle? Not the LoA thats for certain.

(you could plausibly say Jazz but she's only 2 years older than Danny and do you really expect a fellow child to properly explain why X is wrong to another child and have it be 100% effective? i don't doubt it'd help to an extent, but not in the same way an adult explaining it would)

plus a ton of other things, like whose teaching him to value human life? not the LoA. Whose teaching him how to adjust to living with American society after he ends up with the Fentons when he's 8-9-10? Who teaches him that killing is wrong, whose enforcing that?

(not the Fentons if you're going the neglectful parent route, and Jazz can try but i really don't think Danny is going to listen to her, a stranger who isn't even part of his grandfather's league)

How do you teach a child to value human life when the greatest development window for that opportunity has closed and he's already formed his own opinions?

You're not gonna get a Danny whose exactly like his canon attitude if he's staying with the league during his formative years (0-8 years old). you're not. You could get someone LIKE it, potentially, or someone who has traces of it or is similar -- like danny's wit and jokes and sarcasm, and on some level his kindness. but you're not gonna have a carbon copy. Development doesn't work that way. "nature" can only do so much in the face of nurture.

If anything, it doesn't even have to be a major change -- in the league he cans till be kind, but it's probably going to manifest in a different way than what is considered normal. Tough love, for one. But there's gonna be something that affects him negatively. Why make him 'always good/kind' when you can make him a brat who develops into a kinder (if spikier than in canon) person?

TLDR: Danyal Al Ghul would not be like how he is in canon if he's with the league until his late formative years -- not without any lasting pr permanent impacts from the league at least. Missed potential to make him an absolute nightmare like damian was -- especially in his early years when he first arrived to the Fenton house.

(this doesn't apply to danyal al ghul aus where he's either given to the fentons as a baby/is reincarnated/etc. this is mostly aimed for danyal al ghul aus where he fakes his death at like, 7-10 and somehow ends up, personality-wise like his completely canon self by 14 without any differences.)

(and even then if he's five or four, or even three, he would still be traumatized and influenced by the league. he'll just have more time to adjust. the sooner he leaves the league the more likely he is to be like his canon self, but not like an exact copy)

(more under the cut)

Anyways what I'm saying is that there is prime missed Danyal al Ghul potential to make him an absolute NIGHTMARE to the Fentons however way he ends up with them, just like Damian was with the Waynes! Cuz why does Damian get all the fun? Danny got the same training and endoctrine as him! He is also an ex-assassin! Why is Danny the only one who is 'well adjusted and non-violent' hm? Hmm?

Why can't he also be mean, and stabby, and a total stuck-up in some way or another? Have fun with his characterization, its prime opportunity to play play-doh and clay with him! If he starts out as X how does he get the personality traits of Y, and thus become XY?

Like take this with a grain of salt if you will, but make him arrogant. Make him an asshole! Make him a bad person at first! Because he will be! He's the blood son of the batman and you mean to tell me that damian is the only one arrogant about it at first? Make him stabby and mean even at 14 when he's begun to chill out! Have fun with it! If he's with the Fentons at any point past the age of four or five then he's gonna be a nightmare to handle because he still remembers the league and his time there.

(and while it gives him more time to chill the hell out, his time at the league is still gonna leave an impact on him.)

also what im saying as well is have him and sam potentially get along like a house on FIRE. Again, Danny grew up under the views of an ecofascist cult and nobody to challenge those views to him until he got to amity park at whatever age in late formative years he was at. He could be about as intense or even MORE intense about environmental awareness/rights than Sam is!

(also him being supremely unimpressed with Sam's wealth. he gave up a palace in the mountains for this town. because that's funny to me - like let his past have more influence on him! it'll be fun!)

you could have a danny who doesn't kill but doesn't fully understand the value of human life because jazz is like two years older than him and isn't that good at explaining why people's lives are important. he won't kill but he's not morally opposed to it. there's very little chance he actually gets bullied at school because he nearly killed Dash the first time he tried anything.

Danny could have scars, physical ones, because its implied in multiple canon that training starts at toddling (my best bet is 3 at minimum and ~maybe~ 2 but only on the later side of 2. Good fucking luck getting any infant under 2 to do anything you ask, ESPECIALLY assassin training. They're gonna stick the weapon in their mouth sooner than they're gonna do katas. This is coming from a daycare teacher.)

there's more examples of how danny being at the league during his formative years would affect him, but those are just some of them. he could have a sword! An appreciation for weaponry and nature. Maybe he still speaks all shakespearan and formal, does he still make bodily threats to people? If Damian is still threatening people at 14 why can't danny?

[bxriles]

I gotta be honest, the ending of JJK isn’t doing it for me. It feels underwhelming. And before anyone freaks tf out and tells me that I “can’t read” or that I “didn’t understand the point of JJK” I can promise you that I did. I understand and I can read between the lines and make inferences. I can also promise you that I know just because the ending isn’t my cup of tea, does not mean that the ending is objectively bad. I get all of that.

And yet, I still think the execution was fumbled and I think that’s a bummer. In a desperate need to be *different* from the rest of Shonen manga, I think the last 10-15ish chapters have felt incredibly similar to the rest of the genre. At least, in my opinion they have.

Argue with the wall if this post pissed you off. I’m allowed to post my opinion on my blog.

[maliciousalice]

Hear me out (or don't... it's fine I'm just venting and mean) yeah um I don't believe Chakotay was saved in Prod*gy s2.