#it only bothered me to have to take my dogs out during hunting season. but I'd just make them go around the front of the house

[cuntwrap--supreme]

Living downtown in a major city is like, "Were those 3 rapid shots fireworks (in February??) or gunshots?"

Very similar to living in buttfuck nowhere, except here it's almost certain that gunshots mean a person is dead, whereas in the sticks it means someone got tired of their dog barking at a raccoon or opossum and fired 3 shots into the woods.

[featherfur]

I’m going to try and make sense with this so bear with me: I think a lot of untapped angst potential in fic is the reality of Jiang Cheng being the older one now and visibly more mature because Wei Wuxian died at 20? 19? And he wasn’t exactly maturing in the ghost realm during that considering he doesn’t remember it. Now he’s definitely matured via trauma but that’s not the same thing. And now they’re 16x on the wrong wave length.

Under the read more because uh, I go into detail

Now put Jiang Cheng in the same room as Wei Wuxian and they’re both 12, atleast in the beginning. But Jiang Cheng had his previously homicidal insane brother show up right next to his nephew after insulting his mom (who’s death he inadvertently led too) so JC (for me atleast) can be forgiven a bit for not being happy and wanting to kick his ass and thinking he may still be insane because an Okay Wei Wuxian Would Not Insult Shijie or His Nephew. Especially since JC not only didn’t tell the entire world that his brother was back, left him with Jin Ling, only yelled at him a bit and scared him via dog and— (I’m going to shut up here because that isn’t my point but man I could go on). JC had a lot of issues and he yells at Wei Wuxian to the point one wants to offer him a cough drop.

But post Temple JC? Who watched him walk away sadly and knows that Wei Wuxian is no longer unstable and thinks he doesn’t want to be his brother anymore? That’s so much wonderful angst because that means Wei Wuxian will not be greeted by Jiang Cheng his Shidi anymore.

He will be met with Sect Leader Jiang who clawed his way up from nothing but a baby in his right, a stack of spreadsheets on his left and the most feral disciples around that he has to protect. This Sect Leader who doesn’t have time to go around hunting Wei Wuxian down to harass him. Sect Leader Jiang who barely even greets Wei Wuxian when he visits because he has shit to do. He has audits and taxes and those damn merchants are complaining, he has to up the wages of the seamstresses that make the robes of his sect with so many protection talismans and find a way to convince Sect Leader Ouyang to stop fine-ing the caravans that deliver the goods. He has to organize the celebrations and make sure everyone’s safe during flooding season. That’s not even counting how he has to train and monitor his disciples and night hunts and the political hellscape!

But Wei Wuxian!! He doesn’t know that. He doesn’t know everything that Jiang Cheng has been taking care of or that he’s just seriously that busy. He thinks he’s being ignored and pushed away and mocked when Jiang Cheng walks by with a quick “Master Wei” and runs off! Because how could Jiang Cheng treat him like that when Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to reconnect. Every offer of night hunting his declined unless it was planned then already and when they do get together Jiang Cheng ignores him! Why is Wei Wuxian even trying!? What’s the point of Jiang Cheng can’t stand him but why can’t he stop trying either??

Meanwhile during those hunts Jiang Cheng is trying to keep an eye on his brother, his twelve disciples, Jin Ling and his entourage, Wei Wuxian’s Lan ducklings, that random Ouyang kid who apparently imprinted on Jin Ling, figure out what they’re hunting, mentally running the math for the cost of the inns for all of them, going through each of the attending Jiang disciples’ personal likes and deciding on whether to buy their favorite snacks or something else as a ‘thank you for not dying’ as has become accidental custom, trying to figure out if it’s weird to get Jin Ling and his friends something nice (CLEARLY he has to get the Ouyang kid something, he apparently has no other friends considering how often he’s just hanging around Lotus pier whenever Jin Ling swings by), and trying to think of he has any other disciples night hunting within a 50 mile radius he should fly out to check on before he sleeps!

Clearly Wei Wuxian just doesn’t care about the Jiang sect and wants to just be annoying but Jiang Cheng is busy! Cant he see that Jiang Cheng is only available on Mondays and Tuesdays during the odd months and Wednesday through Saturday on the even? It’s very clear when Jiang Cheng has time! Why can’t his brother just respect that not everyone has the free time to do whatever the hell they want? Is he flaunting it?!? How dare he!

It’s a giant mess and it only gets worse because Jiang Cheng is diplomatic, he knows how to bow his head when he’s overpowered (though he rarely is nowadays) or when the outcome isn’t worth it. So he doesn’t want to start a fight with Lan Wangji and from there the entire Lan Sect! He’s been holding his tongue for years he can keep doing it, especially if his brother’s happiness is on the line. He can ignore Lan Wangji being rude, he can ignore the dark looks, hell if he thinks Wei Wuxian’s position is threatened at the LAN’s he’ll even play real fucking nice so that Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen won’t do anything to his brother. He did it for Yanli he’ll do it now. (Also added bonus of now Sizhui has started to warm up to him and so he has to be extra polite so his new nephew doesn’t hate him and his free nephew [Jingyi] doesn’t light a building on fire in revenge for someone looking at Hanguang-Jun wrong). He might have snapped at Hanguang-Jun when shit was going down but now Lan Xichen is in seclusion and Jiang Cheng can’t piss odd Lan Wangji no matter how much he wants to chuck a beehive at his head

But Wei Wuxian doesn’t it take it that way! He just sees his brother suddenly calling him Master Wei and won’t interact with him during meetings or before or after and he’s acting so cold towards Lan Zhan! He’s staring right through his brother in law and keeps acting like he doesn’t exist and the only time in the last month Jiang Cheng sought him out was!! To ask!! If he!! COULD HIRE WEI WUXIAN?!? NOT EVEN TO SAY HI OR CHECK ON HIM OR FINALLY ANSWER HIS LETTERS BUT TO ASK HIM TO CREATE TALISMANS FOR THEIR CLOTHES! (Of course he said yes though because hey money and it’s actually fun chatting with the seamstresses) but that’s all his shidi cares about?? What Wei Wuxian can do for him? He doesn’t care about Wei Wuxian at all! Why does Jiang Cheng keep hating him, he thought they were atleast neutral but he keeps going further and further away!!! Wei Wuxian is hurting and his little brother wants nothing to do with him!

Neither of them are IN the wrong but they’re both wrong.

It takes until someone, probably Lan Xichen or Nie Huiasang, points out that “Wei Wuxian… He’s not your shidi anymore, he’s your Sect Leader well a Sect Leader… he’s a Sect Leader to one of the biggest Sects, he’s busy it’s tax season. I wouldn’t want to interact with anyone either.”

Meanwhile Jin Ling or a random slightly more insane then the rest Jiang disciple interrupts Jiang Cheng’s lunch to go “Okay you’re making this worse on literally everyone, Wei Wuxian is clearly trying to make this work why are you being mean? He’s trying!” (Or much more polite for the disciple)

They have to meet up and actually talk things through and honestly *that* only works because Lan Xichen grabs them both by their metaphorical ears and sits them down because “I would like my brother in law, both of them, to stop crying to me because they can’t talk. So now we’re going to learn to communicate and if either of you makes this weird I WILL just start fluting my way out of it and you’ll feel bad.” (Actually he just sits them down together while and he and Jiang Cheng have to go over payments for the next batch of trades and Wei Wuxian passes out on Jiang Cheng halfway through and when he wakes up he swears to never bother him on a work day because that was the worst moment of his life and they end up repairing enough to start the trek to being brothers again

[crusherthedoctor]

Can you list anything you unironically like in the games (and cartoons and comics) that you don't like?

I won't bother mentioning music, since that goes without saying and is to be expected for a Sonic game... unless you're Chronicles.

Sonic Adventure 2 (mixed gameplay-wise, annoying story-wise) - While I prefer Sonic's SA1 levels for a number of reasons, I still think his and Shadow's gameplay in SA2 is fun on its own merit. I also don't mind the treasure hunting gameplay returning or how big the levels are this time around, since Knuckles and Rouge are still fast and not '06 levels of slow. It's mainly the gimped radar that creates the unfortunate domino effect of making them a problem.

- Introduced Rouge, one of my favourite characters for how playful she is and how she's a lot more nuanced and intelligent than you'd expect.

- Some genuinely good scenes, like Eggman's trap on the A.R.K and Sonic escaping from the G.U.N. helicopter.

- Had some good ideas going for it, like the Pyramid Base and the Biolizard as a scientific monster instead of an ancient one.

- Despite my thoughts on the backstory itself (or rather, its execution), Shadow has enough depth and subtle qualities and occasional unintended hilarity to stand out from the typical dark rival characters you see in media.

- The Last Scene's music in particular is one of my favourite cutscene tracks in the series.

Sonic Heroes (mixed gameplay-wise, loathed story-wise) - The gameplay is fun when you're not being screwed over by repetitive combat, overly long levels and/or ice physics.

- Boasts some of the most consistently Genesis-worthy environments in the 3D games, up there with SA1's and Colours'.

- The in-game dialogue that isn't the same tutorial drivel repeated ad nauseam can be interesting, funny, etc.

- Reintroduced the Chaotix, which provided me with another character I quite like in the form of Vector.

- Bringing Metal Sonic back in full force and front and center in the plot after a long absence (not counting cameos and the like) is a perfectly fine idea. Just... not like this.

Sonic Battle (decent yet repetitive gameplay, mixed story-wise) - Emerl's arc is compelling, and it earns the emotional weight of having to put him down at the end.

- While some characters are iffy (read: Amy), other characters are extremely well-handled. Shadow is probably the prime example.

- Gamma's belly dance healing animation is fucking hilarious.

- When I was young, and the game was first announced, I was really excited about being able to play as Chaos. This proved to be my downfall when it turned out he was arguably one of the worst characters in the game due to being slower than me during the writing process, but I still recall that excitement fondly.

Shadow the Hedgehog (comedy classic) - The sheer amount of legendary stupidity this game has going for it makes it practically impossible to actually hate. It helps that it's not quite as white-knighted on the same level as '06... usually. You know you're in for a unique experience when you hear a gunshot every time you click something in the menu.

- By extension, Black Doom never gained an unironic fanbase like Mephiles/Scourge/Eggman Nega did, which means I'm a lot more willing to take Doom's dumbass brand of villainy in stride. He even has a unique design... a terrible one that rips off Wizeman granted, but alas, even that is a step-up from Fridge Shadow and Bumblebee Eggman.

- Despite being... well, Shadow the Hedgehog, some of the environments would fit right in with any other Sonic game, like with Circus Park, Lava Shelter, and Digital Circuit. Even the Black Comet levels look pretty cool.

- This game understands amnesia better than IDW does.

Sonic '06 (what do you think?) - The obvious one: Shadow's character was handled pretty well, even if it came at the cost of everyone else being a dummy and being forced to interact with Mephiles.

- Like SA2, there are some good moments, like the Last Story ending sequence with Sonic and Elise.

- In the greatest form of irony ever, I like Solaris as a concept and design(s), and its backstory has potential to serve as a parallel with Chaos without being a complete ripoff. Iblis sucks, Mephiles sucks, but I'm fine with Solaris.

- Introduced legendary characters like Sonic Man, Pele the Beloved Dog, Hatsun the Pigeon, and Pacha from The Emperor's New Groove.

The Rivals duology (apathetic outside of Nega-related grumbling) - There were some cool zone ideas in both games that were sadly let down by the restrictive and limiting gameplay. I particularly like Colosseum Highway for thus far being the only full-on Roman level in the series instead of merely having a couple minor hints of Roman, and Meteor Base for the unique scenario of the space station being built into an asteroid. These level concepts and others deserve a second chance IMO. (At least Frontier Canyon got a second chance in the form of Mirage Saloon, amirite?)

- Ifrit has a better design than Iblis. Not saying it's amazing, but the Firebird motif it has going on is a lot more interesting for a fire monster than the Not-Chaos schtick they had with Iblis.

Sonic and the Secret Rings (a very frustrating gaming experience) - Erazor Djinn, A.K.A. Qui-Gon Djinn, A.K.A. Dr. N. Djinn, A.K.A. I'll Take It On The Djinn, A.K.A. Not From The Hairs On My Djinny Djinn Djinn, is one of the best villains not associated with Eggman in the series. He's a Mephiles-type character done right, and there's actual weight and reason to his actions, however sinister or petty.

- I don't have strong opinions either way on Shahra as a character, but the Sonic/Shahra friendship is sweet and well-handled.

- The ending is one of Sonic's greatest moments. The sheer contrast between how ruthlessly he deals with Erazor and how comforting he is towards Shahra speaks volumes... Still gonna make fun of the mountain of handkerchiefs though. (Before anyone lectures me, I understand the significance of it and can even appreciate it from that angle... doesn't mean I'm not allowed to poke fun at it. :P)

- Another game with some redeeming environments. I love the aesthetic of Night Palace, and Sand Oasis looks gorgeous too.

Sonic Chronicles (my personal least favourite game in the series) - Uh...

- Um...

- Er...

- I like Shade's design?

Sonic Unleashed (overrated game and story IMO) - The obvious two: the opening sequence and the Egg Dragoon fight deserve all the praise they get.

- Seeing Eggmanland come to life was an impressive moment to be sure. While part of me does feel it didn't quite measure up to what I had in mind (ironically, the Interstellar Amusement Park ended up being closer to what I had in mind), it still looks badass and works well for what it is. I also don't mind the idea of it being a one-level gauntlet... key word being idea.

- Obviously, the game looks great. Not a fan of the real world focus (real world inspiration is fine, but copy-pasting the real world and shoving loops in it is just unimaginative), but it can't be denied that the environments look good.

- This game pulled off dialogue options a lot better than Chronicles did, since they didn't rely on making Sonic OoC.

Sonic and the Black Knight (just kind of boring all around) - Despite my gripes with the story (Merlina wasn't nearly as fleshed out as her unique anti-villain status deserved, which ends up severely undermining the ambition of the plot in more ways than one, and the other characters go from being useless yes men for King Arthur to being useless yes men for Sonic), I will admit it provides interesting insight into Sonic's character.

- Like '06 and Secret Rings, the ending is very nice... well, aside from Amy being an unreasonable bitch ala Sonic X at the very end.

Sonic the Hedgehog 4 (apathetic) - The admittedly few new concepts sprinkled within had promise. They may not have been as fleshed out as they could have been, but level concepts like Sylvania Castle and White Park, bosses like Egg Serpentleaf and the Egg Heart, and story beats like the Death Egg mk.II being powered by Little Planet, all could have been brilliant had they been better executed.

SatAM (apathetic outside of SatAM Robotnik-related grumbling) - I'm not a fan of the environments on the whole due to them looking too bland or samey, but there are some exceptions that look pleasant or interesting, like the Void.

Sonic Underground (apathetic) - The character designs make me feel better about myself.

- Does "large quantities of unintentional meme material" count as a positive?

Sonic X (mostly apathetic outside of Eggman's handling) - Helen was a better human character and audience surrogate in her one focus episode than Chris was throughout his entire runtime.

- Actually, most of the human characters not named Chris were legitimately likable. Including everyone in Chris' own family not named Chris. Hilarious.

- Despite arguably having the most Chris in it, I actually don't mind the first season that much, partly due to slight nostalgia from seeing it on TV when it was new, but mostly because Eggman actually acted like a villain for the most part, and certain other characters weren't quite as flanderized yet. It's season 2 and onwards where things started going off the rails IMO. (Incidentally, Helen's episode was part of season 1...)

The Boom franchise (apathetic) - Along with Chronicles, the games provide yet more proof that just because someone isn't SEGA/Sonic Team, that doesn't mean they're automatically more qualified to handle the series.

- The show had some good episodes here and there, and Tails' characterization was probably the most consistently on-point out of the cast.

- Despite not exactly being favourite portrayals for either character, even I'll admit that many of Knuckles and Eggman's lines in the show on their own were genuinely funny.

Archie Sonic (pre-reboot is mostly terrible, post-reboot is mostly... bland) - Whenever I doubt myself as a writer, I think back to Ken Penders, and suddenly I'm filled with a lot more confidence.

Sonic the Comic (apathetic) - Fleetway isn't a comic I tend to recall much of aside from how much of a loathesome cunt Sonic is, but IIRC, Robotnik's portrayal is pretty good. Different, but good.

IDW Sonic (stop pissing me off, comic) - Putting their handling aside (and being too obviously "inspired" by MGS in the latter's case), Tangle and Whisper are good characters IMO.

- Same goes for Starline, before he was killed off-screen and replaced with Toothpaste Snively.

- Execution aside (noticing a pattern?), the zombot virus was a fine concept on its own and an interesting new scheme for Eggman.

- I get to remind myself that I've never drawn scat edits and posted them publicly on Twitter.

[mrwinterr]

Die Happy

Pairing: Ghost!Bucky Barnes AU x Female Reader; tiny hint of Sam Wilson x Female Reader

Summary: You summon a really friendly ghost.

Warnings: Smut 18+ (consensual vibes all around, masturbation, vaginal fingering, oral [female receiving]) and language. Dabbling into the occult (use of a Ouija board).

Disclaimer: I’m a spooky bitch, I like how Ouija boards look like, but I would NEVER mess with them.

Title Inspiration: “Die Happy” by Dreamers  

A/N: I was on Reddit and I stumbled across an erotic audio that inspired this, so I definitely owe it to them. I’ve just been dying to write a ghost AU. I decided to hold back on the smut on this for now and maybe save it for later. This can be turned into a series, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself. Idk. You tell me! Enjoy!

It’s here.

It’s finally here. The package that would help you find the answers you were so desperately looking for was finally here.

Package in hands, there’s a skip to your steps as you happily make your way back into the living room of your somewhat new home. You had moved in almost six months ago, but it still felt so surreal. You, a homeowner. All those years of saving up and house hunting - you finally did one of the most adult things you could do in your life.

The small house had been in the neighborhood for decades and owned by plenty before you, in fact, too plenty, but for a home in Brooklyn, New York it was surprisingly affordable. You’re still patting yourself on the back for how you managed to score this place at such a bargain price.

It was the ideal place, really; surrounded by friendly neighbors and with a great home association. It was at a reasonable distance from your workplace and the city. Furthermore, cosmetically, it was your dream home. You never took a second to ask why someone would quickly put this home back on the market...until recently.

The realtor had assured you that everything in the house was functioning properly before you signed away. There was little to no refurbishing on your end, which was part of the dealbreaker, but now you can’t help to wonder if the realtor was duping you. A young, pretty woman and a first-time homeowner? That was easy bait for them, right? There had to be a catch or information that they were withholding and well, you weren’t about to wait any longer to find out.

Lately, strange things had been happening and while at first you brushed them off as mere coincidences, they were becoming almost too outstanding to ignore.

First, it was the air conditioning unit acting all wonky. You kept the house at a reasonable and comfortable temperature, but you found yourself often sporting hoodies even during the warmer seasons. The technicians couldn’t find a single problem with it and besides whenever you scheduled a visit for inspection, it was magically working just fine. Never mind the breeze that blew past you here and there…

Next, much like the AC unit, the electricity started to have a mind of its own. Before you could flip the light switch or press the button on your remote, it was always one step ahead of you. It was almost like you were living in a smart house, but instead of acting on voice command, it read your mind.

Not to mention, things disappeared and reappeared every now and then. Small things like the morning paper would vanish from the coffee table and if you couldn’t locate where you last left your keys, you never searched too far.

Then the eeriest one of them all was the unexplained smell. There was a distinct yet alluring scent that would waft by when you felt that breeze pass over. You had deduced that it wasn’t any like of your fragrance collection nor was it from the only friend that visited you. It was a pleasant odor and almost calming to you.  

You didn’t want to believe it, but these weren’t just common occurrences - these were tall tale signs of a haunting. The spirit wasn’t vengeful, that much you gathered since it didn’t make attempts to harm you in any way. Sure you could just either ignore these oddities or relist the home, the latter which wasn’t in your favor because it wasn’t that simple. Instead, curiosity won the best of you and you opted to take matters into your own hands.

Literally.

“Whoa!” You hear your close friend Sam Wilson exclaim and watch as he scoots to the other end of the couch as far away as he could when you pull the Ouija board out from the box. “Shit, girl. I knew you liked Halloween, but I didn’t think you were that spooky!” He said, his eyes bugging out in disbelief that you’d ordered such a thing.

You roll your eyes at him and place the board on the coffee table. He immediately gets up from his spot and sets what he deems is a safe distance from it as if the object was cursed. You’re not deterred by the Ouija board at all. It had quite the opposite effect because you were all too fascinated with the supernatural.

“You really shouldn’t mess with that kind of stuff,�� Sam warns as you handle the remaining piece, the planchette.

“I don’t know why you’re so scared,” you respond, blowing him off and kicking away the now empty box.

“And you’re not?!” He says incredulously, “trying to speak to the dead is not right!” Well, it certainly wasn’t normal, but so weren’t the things that were happening in your home lately.

“I need to find answers, Sam!” You bite back, the volume of your voice matching his. You didn’t miss the hint his exclamations gave off and it bothered you. “What do you expect me to do? Continue living like this? I’m not in control of my own home.”

Oh, he knew. He was your closest friend and you trusted him enough to share your theories about your home and the experiences in it.

“You really think this place is haunted.” It comes off as more of a statement because he can see you’ve clearly made up your mind on how you’re going to prove the theory.

“Why do you think I can’t have Sarge or any pets over?” You absolutely adored Sam’s dog Sarge, but he made it apparent that he didn’t like something about or in your house.

Before Sam could try and spit out an explanation you’ve already heard, you stopped him, “I’m not going crazy! And I certainly am not going to spend another fee on having a technician tell me there’s nothing wrong with the units again.”

“Look. Why don’t you just come spend the night at my place and we can think of another way to approach this?” He offered and you knew that offer all too well. It had always been on the table. When you decided to move to Brooklyn and were looking for your own place, Sam had offered you a room, but you were hellbent on making it on your own. You were proud and independent...and weren’t sure about taking the next step with him.

Sam was everything your past lovers weren’t and you while you both weren’t official, a couple of dates happened here and there, something was holding you back. You cherished his friendship so much and a part of you feared finding out what it could be that you weren’t willing to jeopardize what you two already had if anything more came out of it and then failed miserably. He made it clear how he felt about you, but you brushed it off casually each time. Sam knew you simply weren’t ready.

“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” You reply, breaking away from seeing the look of concern on his face and back to the planchette your hands were fidgeting with. You knew he was a skeptic on these kinds of things and only worried for your safety.

The nights he had spent here nothing strange ever happened. It’s like these occurrences were only happening about you. Sam wasn’t sure if he believed in ghosts or not, and he deeply cared for you, but he wasn’t about to stick around and find out. He knew that you could be stubborn, but there was only so much he could do to change your mind from where he stood and he just hoped he hadn’t lost you yet.

The small crack of thunder in the sky indicated a storm was coming and you took that as a sign to convince Sam to leave for the day. You didn’t want to fight with him about this. The few times you did talk about a possible haunting were just humorous conversations to Sam, but you were always being serious. It was evident that you two were not on the same page.

“You should probably start heading home before the rain comes,” you advise, standing up to walk over to the front door, hoping it’d sway him, but he knew what you were doing. Sam wasn’t mad. He was always very patient with you.

He only nods in false agreement before following your lead. “I’m coming back first thing in the morning to check if you’re still alive though,” he jokes, before pulling you in for a hug and giving you a kiss to the side of your head. His words elicit a light chuckle from you, but is mostly muffled against his biceps, then you’re playfully shoving him out the door.

As soon as his car disappears from the end of the street, you jolt and head snaps quickly at a sudden crash from the kitchen. You make your way in that direction to find the mug gifted to you on your last birthday from Sam shattered in pieces all over the kitchen floor.

The last roar of thunder must’ve been a strong one or the elevation of the shelf had been slightly off or maybe the house didn’t like Sam…

You shook your head at that last silly thought from your mind and sighed preparing to clean up the mess. Once that was done, the gloomy weather quickly casted a blanket over the sky and with a remix of fast raindrops against the windows and pavement and the lag in thunder, you didn’t waste time on the mission.

What better time than now? It set the mood. Were you scared? You weren’t sure. You were already convinced you were living with a spirit. You didn’t ponder long enough to think about the aftermath. Was this all just a bunch of hocus pocus or pseudoscience? Would you get possessed by a demon or would he be like Casper?

The use of a Ouija board, especially by someone inexperienced as yourself, was highly not recommended and very much frowned upon during your upbringing. If only your parents could see you now...

The spirit in your home couldn’t be that bad though, right? If they wanted to possess you, they would’ve done so by now; unless they were just waiting for an invitation. Well, there was only one way to find out.

You dimmed the lights and lit a few candles around you. Was this insulting? You did some fair share of research, but most of what you knew about Ouija boards were credited to horror movies.

You take a deep breath and begin to summon your supposed roommate.

Bucky felt bad as he watched you clean up the mess he made in your kitchen. He knew you liked that mug, but he didn’t and he certainly didn’t like how Sam made you feel. Sam made you feel all sorts of things and Bucky knew that, which explained why Sam never experienced anything unusual in the house because Bucky didn’t like seeing you with him.  

He was aware of how silly it was. A ghost jealous of two living humans. He had his turn, but it was tragically cut short. He was so young. He left everything behind to fight a World War. There was a high chance he wouldn’t come back and he was sadly part of that statistic.

But why did his afterlife have to consist of seeing the most angelic living human being just waiting to fall in love with the perfect living man? He didn’t get a chance to live out that part of his life, so was he bitter? Yes. And especially outraged at any distress that was brought upon the current tenant of his old home.

Bucky wasn’t sure why he was able to roam around his old stomping ground over the last couple of decades. He tried his best to communicate with the previous owners but he always ended up scaring them off. When you moved in, if he wasn’t already dead, and you could’ve seen him, he just knew he would’ve been as pale as a well...ghost. He made sure to not send you running for the hills.

He tried to help you with everyday things, trying his best to be subtle. He didn’t even spy on you during private moments like in the shower or on those lonely, needy nights. He proved himself to be a ghostly gentleman.

He even tried to not eavesdrop on your conversations and almost always disappeared when guests were present, but he heard you raise your voice earlier at Sam. He wasn’t sure what you two were arguing about and sure it was petty on his part, but before he could summon enough energy to knock over the mug, Sam was already gone.

Bucky followed you back into the living room and watched as you lit the candles scattered around. He lightly smiled believing you were attempting to relax. If only seeing you in peace was enough to put him to rest - permanently - but when he sees you take a seat back on your couch his expression fell and he swore his heart would stop again if it could.

“Oh no,” he says as he watches you stare at the Ouija board on the table before you. Bucky starts pacing in front of you, his hands over his head. Anyone that set foot and stayed long enough knew this place was haunted, and he knew you weren’t stupid and besides he wasn’t as subtle as he’d like to have been lately.

“Is anyone here?” He hears you ask the first question. He looks over your direction and sees your eyes are closed with both hands on the planchette.

“Oh my God,” he barely whispers and realizes, “she’s really trying to talk to me.” He couldn’t believe you’d be so brave to risk such a thing and importantly willingly reaching out to him.

“Yes! I am! I’m here!” She can’t hear you, idiot. “Fuck, of course she can’t hear me.” Bucky argues with himself on what to do before he remembers how Ouija boards work.

He almost can’t believe it when he does it, but he’s able to delicately move your hands and slide the planchette over to the word ‘YES’.

Your eyes pop open and you gasp when you see that you got an answer. You're frozen and look up in front of you half expecting the spirit to show itself to you, but you don’t see anything.

At least that’s what you think. Unbeknownst to you, you’re staring right at Bucky or rather through him. His expression mirrors yours - complete and utter shock. He was never able to easily move or touch anything solid in years. The incident with the mug earlier, that kind of stuff usually required a lot of concentration and energy on his part. He’s also scared that he’s frightened you with that move, but at the same time excited that he’s successfully communicating with you.

You’re unsure if you should continue. You were half expecting this to be a bust, but it moved. It actually moved! While you were excited that this worked, the tiny voice in the back of your head had you considering that maybe you shouldn’t go any further, but who ever really listened to them? You blink a few times and refocus your attention on the task.

“What are you?” You ask.

“What am I?” Bucky repeats the question, “I’m dead.” Wait. He starts to spell the letters ‘D-E-A-D’ with your hands on the planchette. He compares the sight of the corners of your mouth lifting, amused at that response, of course he was dead, as to what angels must’ve felt like when they earned their wings. If anyone believed in that sort of stuff...either way he felt very blessed.

“You liked that one, didn’t you?” Bucky said more to himself with a big smile on his face. He loved this! It was like he was having a conversation with you. It was something he only ever dreamed of for the last six or so months.

A particular flash of lightning followed by a thunderous sound startles you and you breakaway from the Ouija board. You weren’t going to lie. You were still absolutely spooked out and decided that maybe that was enough contact with the dead for the day.

When your heartbeat finally returned to its normal pace, you got up and turned on the lights, made sure you blew all the candles out and turned in for the night. Before you left, Bucky watched you look around the room and bid goodnight to seemingly nothing, but he knew it was meant for someone - it was meant for him.

The days that followed, you were growing curiouser and curiouser that in your spare time, you started digging into how much can come out of the Ouija board, but first you needed to figure out who you were dealing with.

With as much access as you were granted, you found out about a man, who was around the same age as you, that had died during World War II and the hauntings that would start to occur after the first tenant took residence upon this home.

The house belonged to a man named James Buchanan Barnes, but signed it under the name Bucky. How cute. You thought to yourself over the nickname, then you saw an accompanying photo of who you assumed was living with you. It was in black and white and the quality wasn’t that up to par, but from what you could make out you could determine enough. Cute name for a cute guy.

You read the experiences of others that lived here before you and they all seemed harmless. They were just spooked and you didn’t blame them. They had every right to be scared, but you didn’t scare that easily.

You’re so engrossed with your findings, you barely paid any attention to Sam, even when he’d come in to check on you. He had the spare key in case of emergencies, and you ignoring most of his unreturned phone calls and missed texts, uncharacteristically you, to him was deemed as an emergency.

Sam was only less than thrilled to see your enthusiasm on all this. Normal people didn’t go around poking at the dead. He pointed out you were lucky you didn’t get possessed, not paying any mind or adhering to you claiming he was probably a friendly ghost.

“This isn’t an episode of Casper!” Sam says fed up again. His face falters as he watches your shoulders visibly slump. He hated killing the vibe, especially when you were excited, but you were excited about something all too unreal and that shouldn’t be messed with at all in the first place.

“What if I can help him?” You try reasoning with him, “What if I can help him pass on? Then I can live in peace...and so would he.”

“You’re already lucky that you’re unharmed,” Sam reminds you, “I’m just worried about you.”

“I know you are, but I’ll be fine,” you assure him, hoping you could keep that promise. After all, you couldn’t even confirm you were really communicating with Bucky.

You were relieved that the conversation with Sam didn’t take a turn for the worse like it easily could have. You understood where he was coming from and you were lucky to have someone like him care so much about your wellbeing. The realization never fails to punch you in the gut for not allowing yourself to give in.

So why were you more scared to commit than of willingly reaching out to a ghost?

Take two.

You sat perched up and ready to communicate once more. Bucky, on the other hand, is more than ready and the cool familiar breeze that passes you by lets you know that he’s here.

“Who are you?” There weren’t exactly formalities with contacting the dead and your heartbeat starts to pick up as you’re slowly spelling out ‘B-U-C-K-Y’.

“Bucky,” you whisper. Boy, did Bucky like the sound of his name coming from your lips.

“How did you...die?” you had to swallow in between the last word in that question, hoping it wouldn’t trigger a negative response. Even in the afterlife, death couldn’t be an easy topic.

The letters ‘W-A-R’ and the number ‘2’ gives you your answer. It was him! Internally, you’re overjoyed that you’ve figured out your ghostly John Doe, but you try to remain at ease.

“Did you knock down my mug?”

Bucky rolls his eyes at that, but swiftly moves your hands over to ‘YES’.

“Okay. I mean that wasn’t very nice,” you couldn’t just bite your tongue as the sass flowed right out of you.

‘S-O-R-R-Y’.

The apology takes you by surprise, and suddenly you weren’t mad about the mug anymore.

“It’s alright. It was just a mug,” you try to assure him. You’d just have to explain to Sam another time that the ghost broke it. No biggie. Yeah, right. What with the tiny arguments, he’d most likely believe you destroyed it out of anger and frustration at him.

Your arms were getting tired from the position they were in. Several minutes had passed since you last said anything to Bucky and you weren’t sure of what to ask next.

Where does this end? Do you ask him to leave? This is his home. No, it’s not anymore. It’s your home now. But he doesn’t belong here anymore. How do you help him pass on? Did you have that ability? Do you hire a medium? Enlist the help of a priest? Call a ghostbuster? Your mind grew tired all too quickly, you slumped back in your seat, breaking away from the Ouija board.

Bucky watched as you rubbed the muscles of your sore arms. He felt helpless. He wishes he could ease or take away your pain. Instead, all he could do was watch and make sure you were okay until you were ready to start talking again.

With your hands back on the items, you ask, “are you still here?” Bucky responds with ‘YES’. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, mentally preparing yourself, before proceeding with the next question.

“Can you show yourself to me?” There the ultimate question and Bucky can’t help but ask why? Why were you interested in seeing him? He was a lost cause.

“No?” you ask more to yourself, still staring at the word through the eye of the planchette, and frown at his response.

Bucky wanted nothing more than to show himself to you, but he didn’t know how. For decades he was nothing but a gust of air. No matter how hard he tried to show himself to previous owners, he was never successful.

You pull your hands back away and place them in your lap, unsure of where to go from here. Well, you couldn’t force a ghost to do something they didn’t want to do, but you hoped that maybe perhaps seeing him would make it less taxing while communicating.

There’s a sudden iciness that covers the side of your cheek, sending a chill down your spine, causing you to flinch and your hand rising quickly to warm the spot.

Bucky almost disappears at the sudden reaction. He can’t believe it. You felt that. You could feel him. It was different than pushing your hands in different directions because this time, neither of you needed the help of the Ouija board.

You’re not sure where he is as your eyes scan the room, you wanted to feel that again. Sure, the cold was a bit alarming, and as sharp as his icy touch was, so was the surge that flowed through you. It was unexplainable, but soothing.

It sucked for Bucky because he couldn’t keep your eyes trained on just him.

“Are you sure you can’t show yourself?” You ask again, this time convinced you didn’t need the Ouija board anymore.

However, Bucky needed the board to reply. You sigh in defeat as you watch the planchette slide across to the word ‘YES’. You couldn’t allow yourself to get mad. You just couldn’t understand how it was possible for him to do all these other things, but not be able to show himself. Whatever it was, you’d just have to accept that you’d never understand ghost logic.

The sound of the planchette scraping against the board, offers you the word, ‘F-E-E-L’.

Feel? You definitely felt a presence, but now it was confirmed. It was him. He was trying to communicate through touch.

“Yes, I felt you,” you let Bucky know quite eagerly. The planchette remains unmoved after that and instead of what would appear to be awkward silence, the seconds that were passing by could be more appropriately compared to that of a ticking time bomb.

“Touch me,” you request.

Bucky’s stunned. If he were alive and well right now, he’d no doubt be on his knees for you with a command like that. He floats over to you and is only more than eager to touch you again, but he’s not sure of where. Feeling a soft anticipation of a ghostly tingle, he hesitantly places both hands on the underside of your jaw, in a cradle-like fashion, hoping it'll stop your wandering eyes.  

You stand still, frozen in place, now seeing the breath of air that escapes your mouth in a cloud of smoke. He’s definitely here and in front of you.

“More,” you say barely above a whisper.

Fuck. Bucky inwardly swears at himself as you unintentionally egg him on. Testing his limits, what more could he already lose? He was already dead.

He goes all in. He leans in and presses his cold, dead lips to yours in the most gentle and light kiss ever. When he pulls away, he sees that your eyes have closed and he can’t help immediately start to wonder if you actually felt that or not. He sure as hell felt it. He can’t be certain as he tries to gauge at the expression on your face. Shit, why did he do that?

“Do it again,” and this time with a more affirmative tone, Bucky doesn’t question anything anymore and obeys. His lips dig deeper against yours, you let out a small moan and purse your lips to respond. You don’t think about how silly it must look to be making out with practically nothing, not knowing what to do with your hands because there was nothing to hold onto, but despite that it all felt too real. He was real.  

Bucky’s mind is reeling at the sound of pleasure that spews from your mouth, he can’t comprehend how this is even possible. He’d been dying to know what kissing you felt like - what you felt like at all.

When your lips start to get numb and turn blue, you reluctantly pull away. You open your eyes to a dark room and wish you could at least hear him, the sounds of ecstasy played a pivotal role in intimacy.  

Your body temperature returns to normal, blood rushing, mind a haze. You stand up and head towards your bedroom without another word. Would he take the cue to follow you? You can’t be sure. You can’t see or hear him, but your actions say otherwise and make you both feel as if he wasn’t dead at all. It was now a game of cat and mouse.

Bucky or not, you were unabashedly turned on. In moments like these, it was hard to be in control of your own body and the only thing you could do was give in to the desires. In this instance, your body couldn’t make up its mind because as if you weren’t just freezing your ass off while kissing Bucky, you were suddenly hot all over.

Flustered, you pulled down your shorts, tossed them carelessly across the room, perhaps a little too harshly. If he wasn’t going to help you out, then you would do the job yourself. A mad smile on your face, surprised you weren’t the least bit embarrassed if he was going to watch you or not. It only added to the thrill and the excitement.

Trying to regulate your breathing, you lie down on the center of your bed and run your hands over your face down to where you needed them the most. Your fingers experimentally graze along the wet spot of your panties, groaning in acknowledgment of the sudden arousal. There’s no sense in conjuring up a justifiable explanation as to how something so seemingly innocent as the kiss you shared with Bucky got you so crazed. Not wasting any time, you lift your hips up and bend your legs to slip the flimsy garment off.

No longer a thin barrier between, your entire body shivers slightly, a sharp gasp escaping your lips, when your fingers make first contact with your clit and you begin to rub slow slow circles over it. Your stomach sinks in with each relieving exhale, your breathing growing heavy. Your fingers run off course and dip into your folds, past the floodgates, your fingers resurface coated in your own wetness and you use it to an advantage in invigorating your clit.

Eyes closed, you start to think about Bucky. You want to feel guilty or believe this was all wrong. Instead of getting off to someone like Sam or someone real for that matter, you lied there baring yourself to a ghost. You try to picture that baby face of his, and all that you could based on the lone image you found of him on the Internet.

The curve of his full lips that you were fortunate enough to feel on yours moments ago. You already knew they were soft, but what about his other features? Did his eyes sparkle or were they like black holes? What color were they? They had to be of a set that could hypnotize someone. Maybe it was okay that you couldn’t see him because if you had you just knew that you’d be at his mercy.

And that was just on the surface of it all. How was he like in other areas? How would his tongue feel against yours, on your skin, in you...The simulation causes your thighs to clamp up, knees involuntarily knocking into each other; your other hand clutching onto the bed sheets. He made it that easy, but you needed one more good push to dive in the deep end.

A thin layer of sweat coats your skin from the increase in body heat, then an abrupt familiar cold sensation runs through you, his alluring scent filling your nostrils, your legs forcefully separate; all tells you that Bucky was here. You pick up your head, always a small hint of disappointment flashes through your features at the fact you still and won’t be likely to ever see him.

It shoots a wild pang through Bucky’s chest because he doesn’t miss it; never knowing he could read someone so openly. He missed out on a good chunk of his life. He missed out on someone like you. Life was so cruel.

Your thoughts aren’t as far away from his as you start to wonder, why was it all so easy - seamlessly flawless - with him? Running with only first-party information and two silent conversations, you were already willing to go headfirst for halos for Bucky. Was it pathetic? You didn’t care anymore, whatever would ultimately bring you to him, you just knew in the end you’d die happy.

Your head falls back in defeat and you try to keep your emotions at bay, until you feel the hem of your shirt being lifted, exposing your midriff. Your lips cave in and you wince at each uncalculated cold peck Bucky’s lips leave on you. Whereas you felt a minor sting at how cold his touches were, for the first time, Bucky felt like he was on fire at how hot to the touch you were in this moment. This moment with him.

His lips create a path down to your core, and the contrast in temperature feels good. Not knowing what to do with your hands again, your arms lie sprawled on the bed on either side of your body, then you mentally curse at another sad truth that you had no one to hold on to.

A cool breeze brushes past your folds and your heartbeat spikes up again. Bucky never imagined he’d ever be able to make someone feel this way. It was pointless for him, but he dreamt about it countless times. And then he wickedly thinks how he was dumb to not spy on you during those nightly sessions. He was missing out. You were absolutely divine in his eyes.

“Bucky,” his name slips past your lips when his make contact with your swollen clit. It started off so innocently, but when he pulled his lips back and ran his tongue over the wet spot you left on them, giving him a taste of what you had to offer, he wanted more.

The cold, with each bit of contact from Bucky, was no longer a thing as your body quickly acclimated to it. Bucky uses his fingers to spread your pussy lips apart and allows himself to get a better taste. Your head lulls back, sinking in deeper into your pillows.

There’s only so much you could do to communicate with Bucky, you want to feel his hands all over, but instead you pick up on the slack as you grab and squeeze handfuls of your breasts, massaging them and adding onto the sensation. Your groping proves to be successful when you draw out more noises.

Bucky’s eyes never tear away from watching your reaction, the way your body moves from pleasure - pleasure he’s bestowing on you. His mouth doesn't require guidance as his tongue pulls all the right moves, weaving its way through and between your folds. He drags out a long moan from you when he dips his tongue in and then captures your folds between his lips, tugging as he sucked on them.

“I-I need,” you try to voice out your desires, but you’re reveling in so much, especially in being able to feel Bucky’s fingers digging into the sides of your hips; you bite down on one of your fingers, trying not to let out a crazed scream.

Bucky doesn’t want you to hold back though, so he introduces his fingers into the mix as they take turns in you. You wished you could hear him and all the sounds of his onslaught. To hear those pretty boy moans, the filthy pops and slurping noises. Was he a dirty talker? God. Imagine the things he would say.

He gets the message loud and clear. You want to come, and so he quickens his actions until your body goes into overdrive. When you reach your peak, your eyes snap open, pupils blown, and your back arches up in perfect bridge-like fashion. It almost looks like you’re being possessed before you come back down releasing choppy gasps of breaths.

Exhausted, you struggle to stay conscious wanting to communicate with Bucky one last time, but it felt like the orgasm almost sucked the life out of you. The puffs of cool air against your pussy are an indication that Bucky is still present and he wasn’t going to go anywhere just yet. He hasn’t moved from his position and is short of breath, in awe of seeing you coming undone for him and more so the fact that this happened. This wasn’t just another one of his dreams.

For as long as he’d been an apparition, he’d hoped to be able to finally pass on and if this was his actual last day on Earth, then he’d gladly accept it because one night with you was enough. 

Bucky would die happy.

A/N: Yeah, the ending wasn’t strong, but I wanted to leave it open for interpretation. Let me know what you think! A simple like and reblog is enough to help a sis out! Thank you for reading! 

[lonelyreputation]

Beach Tagger

A/N:  Hi hi!! Switching up from my usual angst and writing a bit of fluff ☺️ I love reading whatever you all have to say––it brightens up my day! Let me know if you have any requests or just want to chat! I loooooveeee making new friends💗 

I’m trying to build up my masterlist so please if you have anything you want to request, my inbox is wide open!!

(come request or chat if you’d like)

Warnings: None :)

Word Count: 4.6K

“And I’m telling you,” you took your bike out of the garage and put the kick stand in place before turning around to face Shawn, “It’ll be less crowded on second street.”

Shawn took hold of the handlebars of your brother’s bike and rolled it out, “But you said that there weren’t any shops or restaurants down that end.”

Once Shawn was out of the garage, you walked over to the electric security pad that had control to open and close the doors.  You dialed in the digits of your grandma and grandpa’s birthday and watched the pad light up green as the garage doors began coming down.

“Do you want to get noticed?”

Shawn stood quietly for a few moments.  It was day three of your five day mini-vacation visiting your grandma at her beach house and Shawn had yet to be spotted.  The two of you were granted privacy with the house being located on the back bay.  During the days you could swim, kayak, and paddle board without anyone bothering the two of you––besides your cousins and family.

It was all very serene; lounging around the family bay house, with your boyfriend, that you had spent every summer at.  You had given Shawn a tour on the first day of all the essential places you spent most of your time as a kid.  You took him by the best pizza shop in town, best ice-cream parlor, the soccer field you had camp at when you were ten, the alley way you turned down when you broke your wrist, and where you had your first job selling popcorn on the boardwalk.

The beach town was something straight out of a Nicholas Sparks novel, a tiny quaint town where everyone knew each other’s business, but that didn’t stop the reality of Shawn’s persona.  The first few days of the week were fine, you were able to take Shawn out to the boardwalk without anyone noticing him with his sunglasses and hat, but now it was the weekend.  And the weekend meant that everyone from the mainland and bordering states would make the two hour drive down to the beach for a little getaway.

The beach town would be crawling with girls who would no doubt spend every minute of their weekend hunting for Shawn.

Finally, he shrugged his shoulders, “I guess you’re right.”

You didn’t like the dejected tone of his voice.  So you left you bike and walked over to him.  He was toying with the gear shift on the bike when you placed your hand on top of his, “If we get hungry we can bike down––or even walk––it’s not that far, promise.”

A small smile made its way onto his face as he flipped his hand over to squeeze your hand, “Sounds good.”

“Good,” you smiled as you removed your hand and went back to your bike.  You kicked the kick stand up and lifted yourself up on the bike, “It’s like a 3 mile ride––“ Shawn’s jaw dropped, “––It’s all on flat ground!” You defended the mileage and gave him a once over, “And besides, you’re in shape, you can handle it.”

Shawn smirked as he slightly lowered his black sunglasses, “Checking me out, y/n?”

Even though Shawn was your boyfriend, you still blushed profusely, “I––Well, yeah.  Yeah, I was.”

Shawn laughed and swung his leg over to the other side of the bike, “Good.”  He then lifted himself up and peddled out of your cobblestone driveway and down the street, “Lead the way!”

You rolled your eyes and started peddling fast to catch up to Shawn.  It was a little harder for you to speed up than him because you had a cruiser while he had your brother’s mountain bike.  And while it was flat land you would be biking on, it was hot out.

Conversation was kept to a minimum biking down the main road, but when you led Shawn down the bike road, you were able to ride side by side and not worry about speeding cars.  The bike road was the street over from the main shopping district of the town, so you were able to hear the chatting of people instead of the ocean waves.  

Even though you and Shawn were riding in tandem, the conversation was still nonexistent.  Shawn would occasionally ask you about certain areas you two had passed and if they had any significance in your childhood.  Most of the time you always had a story for a place.

You had soon made it down to second street and just had to ride up the street in order to get to the beach.  Waiting at traffic lights annoyed you, so you and Shawn would play “what are the odds” whenever you were stuck at a red light.  

Shawn lost a round right when you pulled up to the boardwalk path that led to the beach.  He was supposed to drink out of the spicket that beachgoers used to rinse off their sandy shoes.  

“Please don’t,” you pleaded with him as you chained both of your bikes to the railing, “I don’t want Andrew calling me up asking me how you got dysentery on your vacation with me.”

Shawn shrugged and placed the two beach chairs on the sidewalk as he hovered over the spicket with a scrunched up nose, “When you lose odds, you lose odds, and if there’s nothing I stand by more it’s the rules to that game.”

You snorted, “That makes me feel confident tin our relationship.”

Shawn whipped his head up with a smile, “Odds are a way of life.”

With a roll of your eyes, you plucked your backpack out of the wicker basket attached to your bike and slung it over your shoulders, “C’mon, we’re wasting time and it’s a stupid game please don’t––Shawn!  That is disgusting!”

He was only hunched over for less than a second before he turned the water off and wiped the water on his mouth off with the back of his hand, “That was pure salt water.”

“No shit,” you walked up to him and smacked him in the middle of his chest, “We’re next to the beach.”

With no response to his stupidity, Shawn took hold of your hand as he bent down to grab the handles of the beach chairs you would be using.  The two of you walked up the sandy boardwalk ramp and you were prepared to see a beach tagger sitting in a chair at the bottom fo the ramp.  

You were expecting to see a beach tagger that you knew.  One of your friends who lives in the beach town year round had worked the second street beach location for the past year and a half.  But he wasn’t sitting in the navy blue chair designated for beach taggers.  There was a teenage girl who looked to be sixteen.

Immediately your hands began to sweat and Shawn looked down at you curiously.  You chalked it up to being hot from the bike ride and just needing to get in the water.  He seemed to believe it.

It felt like walking to the beach tagger took ages, but in reality it was a ten second walk down the ramp.  She was reading a book and didn’t pay attention to you two at all, “Do you need to buy a day tag?”

You shook your head, “Uh––No.  We have season passes––here,” you brought up the strings of your back pack where you had two beach tags pinned.  

The girl dog eared her book and looked up at you before looking at the passes, “You’re good to––“ her abrupt stop to her sentence made you wince.  You knew she looked up again at you.  And you knew that she looked up at your boyfriend, not expecting to see Shawn Mendes, “…Go.” She cautiously finished up her sentence.

“Cool, right, yeah––Thanks.”  You took off down the dunes and dragged Shawn along.  

“What are you––Slow down,” Shawn whined as he kicked up some sand.  You slowed down a bit, but as you did, you turned your head over your shoulder and saw the teenage beach tagger not engrossed in her book like she had been before.  She was rapidly typing on her phone.

You knew she was telling someone she saw Shawn when she turned her head and made eye contact with you.  Her smile was giddy, and you couldn’t blame her.  Working as a beach tagger was literally sitting and do nothing for hours.  It was boring.  And now she had just seen Shawn, a musical performer that you assumed she liked, and it had probably made her entire summer.

“She noticed you,” You muttered under your breath as you and Shawn found a good place to set up your chairs. 

Shawn unfolded a chair and pushed it into the sand,“Hm?”

“The beach tagger,” you nudged your head over in the direction you had just come from as you unbuttoned your shorts and flung the t-shirt over your head.  You took the sun tan lotion out of your backpack, “She noticed you and she’s telling people she saw you.”

Shawn rolled his eyes as he got the second chair in place and took the sun tan lotion from you, “So what?”

“So,” you stressed as Shawn began rubbing the lotion in on your back, “People will find out that you’re here and mob you.”  Your eyes involuntarily closed as you felt Shawn’s hands work deep on your shoulder blades, “We did so well the past few days.”

Shawn laughed as he brought his hands on your shoulders, lifting your bikini straps so he could get sun tan lotion under them, “We were cooped up in your house for three days.”

“We still went out and did stuff!”  You exclaimed as Shawn glided his arms down your arms to wipe away any excess sun tan lotion.  Your breath grew shallower as he slid his hands slowly down to your hands and played with your fingers.  He intertwined your hands and pulled your back into his chest.  

Shawn then crossed your tangled arms over your stomach as he leaned down to rest his chin on your shoulder, “I don’t care,” he kissed your cheek, “I like being in public with you.”

His breath was hot as he hung over your ear for a split second before untangling one of his hands and trailing it up the front of your stomach, “Although…If she hadn’t seen us maybe we could’ve been a bit more…” he let his sentence trail off and your eyes widened when you felt Shawn’s fingertips lightly graze under your bikini top.

“I think your mother would absolutely cut your head off if she saw any pictures like that in any publication.”

Shawn let out an overdramatic sigh as he removed his fingers the under part of your top piece and hooked his arm around your waist, “I know,” he squeezed you tight, “Such a shame.”

You laughed and untangled yourself from him.  You picked up the sunscreen and squirted some lotion into your hand, “Now, if there’s one thing Andrew will call me up about, it’ll be because of how burnt you got.”

With no response, because Shawn knew you were right on that one, he turned around and bent his knees so you could lather up his back.  You took longer than necessary, wanting to spend more than necessary feeling every crevice of his back.  By the time you had applied three coats to him and told him almost done for the seventh time, you knew it was time to stop.

The next few minutes the two of you applied sunscreen to your face, arms, legs, and Shawn insisted he get your stomach.  Can’t ever be too prepared for the sun, he said, you could always miss a spot.

And you never denied having Shawn’s hands roam your body.

It was just after twelve, with the sun being at its hottest point during the day, and all you wanted to do was jump in the ocean.  The smell of the salt water and squawk of the seagulls mocked you for not being allowed in.

“You have to let it soak in,” Shawn berated you, “You grew up on the water, don’t you know that?”

“I do,” you grumbled as you leaned back into your chair, “I just feel really sticky from the sun tan lotion.”

Shawn muttered something about you being needy and you kicked sand his way.  After a few more moments of sitting down, Shawn stood up and held his hands out for you to take, “Up.” 

You didn’t question his simple command and reached your hands out to grasp onto him.  When your hands connected you couldn’t ignore the jolt of electricity that still zipped through your veins like the first time you had ever touched him.

He dropped one of your hands, but kept the other hand held tight in his.  Just like you had told him, there was barley anyone on the second street beach.  It was more residential up this way of the town and all of the weekenders went to the main strip of the boardwalk to have easy access to food, bathrooms, and mini golf.

You meandered down toward the ocean and walked up to where the ocean waves just met the shore line.  The two of you just stood there, watching the tide bring in little broken shells and then take them back out to the ocean.  After a few moments, Shawn squeezed your hand and the two fo you began walking along the shallow part of the water.

“Thought we had to wait to get wet,” You chuckled as the waves barely covered your feet for ten seconds.

Shawn kicked some water, “Needed to cool off, plus, I think our feet are fine.”

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say.  

Conversation was never pressured in your relationship.  The two of you prided yourselves on enjoying each others company more than anything else.  But there was something off with this offbeat silence of ocean waves.

“Talk to me,” You nudged his shoulder with yours and looked up at him.  He looked down at you with a fond smile, “Something’s up.”

Shawn nudged your shoulder back and chuckled, “I’m fine.”

You rolled your eyes, “Did you really just pull the I’m fine card with me?”  Your tone was light hearted, but when Shawn’s unnerving silence carried on, you changed your tone to one more of concern, “Are you nervous for tour?”

“Will you miss me at all?”

Shawn didn’t miss a beat with his response.  It was as if he had the question echoing around his head all day and was just waiting for the right time to bring it up.  The point of the mini-vacation was to spend as much time with Shawn before he jetted off to Europe to embark on a summer tour.  He had already completed his rehearsals so right after this weekend was done, he would be flying to New York City to meet up with Andrew and the rest of his crew, and then flying over to Amsterdam.

You had met Shawn through a mutual friend at university when he happened to show up at one of the house parties.  And since then, the two of you were constantly together; whether it be on FaceTime, phone calls, texting–literally anything.  Right from the start Shawn had expressed interest in you and wanted to skip the whole friends first phase.

He was impatient, but it was a decision that you agreed with.  His personality was infectious and his laugh was addicting.  You didn’t want to waste any time pretending like you weren’t interested in him.  

That was October and it was now the first week of June.  The only time you experienced Shawn on tour was for his Jingle Bell tour run in December.  And while he was just in the United States, it was still complicated to keep up with his schedule and tour demands.  It was early on in your relationship that you had to learn to adapt to his lifestyle.  He thought it made him undesirable, but it made you appreciate being in his presence and seeing his smile a million times more.

But a European tour was different.  This was day after day for months on end with an intense time zone difference.  It was going to be difficult, you didn’t lie to yourself about that, but you were confident enough in your relationship that it wouldn’t change anything. 

So when Shawn instantly asked you––will you miss me at all––at all––In the least confident voice you had ever heard come from his mouth, you felt your heart get carried away with the tide.

“I––Of course I’ll miss you,” you spoke in a strained voice, not liking whenever this topic was brought up, “I––I’ll miss you everyday, Shawn, but you’re going to have so much fun.” You squeezed his hand.

He sighed and ran a hand through his curls.  One of them bouncing back in place, “I know…I know…I just––I don’t know.”

“Hey,” you stopped walking.  It took Shawn a few seconds before he was pulled back since he was continuing walking down the beach and you came to a standstill.  You squeezed his hand and spoke softly, “We have a plan, we’ve talked about this.”

Shawn kept his eyes trained out toward the ocean’s horizon, a far off look in his eyes; pain. 

“I know––I don’t even know why I said that––Just, forget it.  It’s not important.”  He went to start walking, but again, he was pulled back by your hands still being connected and you standing still, “Y/n…” 

You tugged on his hand again until he stood next to you.  Both of you were now looking out into the unknown ocean, “It’ll be hard,” you gulped and Shawn responded with a monotone yeah, “But we can do it.  It’ll be hard, but we’ve done some distance before, this is just a bit…longer,” you realized that what you were saying wasn’t really helping the situation.

You sighed, “I’ll always pick up your calls.”

“What if you’re at your internship?” He fired back.

“Then I might not answer it,” you answered honestly, “But––I’ll say I have take a bathroom break and then I’m all yours for fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen minutes?” It was the first time Shawn broke concentration with the ocean and stared at you with wide eyes, “That’s a fucking long bathroom break.”

You shrugged and offered him a soft closed lipped smile, “I’ll just say it was a terrible shit.”

Shawn tilted his head back in laughter.  His eyes were shut tight and his mouth let out a laugh so pleasing that you wished to be the only one to hear it for the rest of time, “They’ll never let you go to the bathroom again––Or––Or they’ll have you clean it up.”

Again, you shrugged and smiled up at him, “Worth it if I get to talk to you.”

“Even if I have to hang up like thirty seconds later?”  Shawn’s voice returned to its anxious state, “Even if you call back like right after I call and I don’t pick up––“

“It’s all worth it,” you leaned into his side and brought a hand around his waist.  He slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you close, “Even if I get your voicemail.”

“I’ll miss you,” Shawn spoke lowly.  The raw tone of passion and honesty that he held in his voice sent chills down your spine that made you want to wrap yourself in a blanket in the middle of summer, “I’ve––I don’t think I’ve missed anymore more than you before and I haven’t even left yet.”

You never felt a smile overtake your face just like the one you had plastered on your face right now, “Good,”  you were sure your smile was blinding the sun, “Because I love you too much for you not to miss–––“

You cut yourself off faster than the thought left your lips.  I love you too much.  You had been in a relationship for around eight months––close to a year––and the two of you knew that you loved each other, but it’s just never been spoke out loud before.  Shawn knew your reservations with that word and respected it.  It wasn’t that you didn’t believe in love, or had a bad history with an ex-partner, but it was the commitment that the word brought out.  It was commitment that this relationship had potential to be something more than just boyfriend and girlfriend.  

Love was the closet thing that the world had to magic; it seemed too dangerous to throw around something so magnificent in power.

Your mouth went dry, “I––Well, you––You’re gonna be gone for so long and I––You better not miss Brian more than me or we’ll have a serious issue––But like, I get he’s your best friend, but I’m your girlfriend––Eh––Hold on, that sounded really possessive and weird because like––I like Brian and I like your friends––Your whole world shouldn’t revolve around me––“

“I love you, too.”

“Because if it revolved around me, then we wouldn’t have a healthy relationship and––What?”

Shawn tilted his head and shifted your body so that you were in front of him, eyes locked, “I love you.”

“You––What?”  It was the second time Shawn spoke those words to you, but you still couldn’t process the information.

“I love–––“

Your eyes closed as your heart opened up, waiting for Shawn to kiss you after telling you he loved you again.  His lips softly touched yours before he was interrupted from finishing the sentence you wanted to hear from him and only him for the rest of your life.

“Are––Are you Shawn Mendes?”

It was a bit of an awkward situation.  Shawn had his hands on your waist and your hands were flat against his muscular chest.  His lips were still hovering yours and he let out an annoyed sigh as he continued rubbing his thumb softly over your hip.  

Reluctantly, he pulled away and plastered on a smile that you knew was a bit forced.

“Hey, yeah––I’m Shawn,” He introduced himself as he still kept an arm thrown over your shoulder, “And what are your names?”

The three teenage girls all looked at each other silently screaming about how they couldn’t believe they had run into Shawn Mendes in their tiny beach town.  You always enjoyed being present when fans met Shawn.  You loved how they looked at him like he hung the moon in the sky, but you were pretty sure you looked at him the same way too.

Shawn conversed with the fans for a few minutes, asking their recommendations for places to go in town, where their favorite mini golf was, and telling them all what he had done the past few days in town.  Of course they brought up the dreaded topic of tour and you felt Shawn tense up as he sputtered out his media trained response; it’s my favorite part of the job, I can’t wait to get back out and see everyone again.  While that statement was true, you knew that he was more apprehensive about this tour and what leaving you behind meant.  

You took their pictures individually with Shawn and then a group picture of the four of them.  One of them asked for a picture with you, which you politely declined. 

“It was really nice meeting you girls,” Shawn flashed his signature smile, “But could you hold off on posting those for a few days? I’m really trying to stay low key and relax before tour.”

They all nodded their head vigorously––Of course, Shawn–––We wouldn’t want to invade your privacy, Shawn––We’re just so thankful you took time to talk to us, Shawn––We totally get that you want to spend time with Y/n, Shawn.

Their last statement made you smile.

The girls walked off holding onto each other’s wrist whispering––Did that really just happen?! Shawn Mendes?! Here?!––and you grinned up at Shawn who was already beaming down at you.

“You just made their day.”

“Ah,” Shawn tsked, “You just made my day.”

You rolled your eyes and shrugged his arm off your shoulder and began to walk away in embarrassment.  Of course you were going to talk about what had slipped through your lips just moments ago, you wanted to talk about it, but you didn’t want any teasing from Shawn. 

“Hey,” Shawn whined as he managed to grab your hand before you were too far away.  He pulled you back into him and resumed the position you found yourselves in before the polite fans not-so-politely interrupted your moment.

His hands felt soothing on your roasting hot skin, “I love you.”

His nose brushed yours softly as you let your eyes flutter close and let out a content sigh, “I love you, too.”  

And just like that, you felt as if everything aligned perfectly in the world.  Everything in your world felt complete.  The sun shinned with a new meaning, the salt water air smelled sweeter, and the thumping of your heart beat with a new purpose.

You loved Shawn Mendes.

His lips touched yours lightly, no more than they did just before the girls interrupted, admittedly, you expected more of a kiss for saying I love you for the first time to each other.  

“Remember; you told me you loved me five seconds ago,” Shawn rushed out in a whisper.

You opened your eyes, “Wha––“ but before you could register anything, you felt Shawn grab your waist as he hoisted you over his shoulder.  You felt his shoulder collide with your stomach and your vision of his face was replaced with his swim trunks.  You weren’t that upset about that part.

But as soon as stereotypical thoughts of your partner’s butt came into mind, you felt the cold ocean water hit the back of your calves.  You managed to lean up slightly and hook your legs around Shawn’s torso.  His musical laugh rang through your ears once more as he adjusted his hands to grip the bottom of your thighs that clung to him for dear life.

You wrapped your arms tightly around him as you nuzzled your face into his neck and shrieked, “Shawn!  Don’t you––“ 

Before you could finish your sentence, Shawn let both of you be consumed by the salty ocean water.  The temperature of the water didn’t feel remotely as bad as it had before now that your whole body had been in the water, but it was still not a pleasant surprise.

Once Shawn lifted both of you up for air, you smacked his shoulder, “Why did you do that?!”

Shawn shrugged, “I don’t know,” he offered you a guilty smile, “But you love me, so it’s alright.”

You opened your mouth, but couldn’t find anything to rebuttal that statement.  You loved the way his eyes glistened under the sun.  You loved the way his wet hair stuck to the sides of his face.  You loved the way he listened to the nonessential details of your life.  You loved the way Shawn put his best work forth in music, family, life, and with you.

So, yeah, you couldn’t be mad at him.  You weren’t mad at him.  

You loved him quite a lot.

[castielsangel-blade]

So it's taken me a bit of time to get my thoughts in order on the finale and, of course, I did not like it. In fact, it left me with more questions than answers and not in good way that stories sometimes do. This was just... not good.

Below, I'm going to list some reasons why I didn't enjoy it. But, as an aside, if you did like it, then I'm glad! I'm happy you're not hurting about it!

So, the episode starts off kinda, y'know, happy-ish. It's a little uneasy because we have no idea where it's going, or what they're gonna do. Sam's on his run, Dean's waking up, and Miracle jumps on his bed. It's nice. But they only show the brothers, which leads me to my first reason.

1. Eileen isn't there. In fact, no one is.

Eileen was Sam's established love interest, so, surely, we should see her or at least hear her mentioned considering she got dusted off-screen in the previous episode. And Sam's a very caring person, he would definitely go check up on her but we got nothing. No mentioned in passing, no picture in his room, no glance at his phone screen to see a message from her. Just... nothing.

After they're all ready for their day, Sam sits across Dean and Miracle in the library and asks if he found anything. It turns out to be a pie festival or some shit and that shows us that Dean wasn't even looking for a hunt. He was just surfing the 'net while he petted Miracle (I love that damn dog) affectionately. So, they go to the pie thingy and this next part, Dean got a lot of crap for but I honestly get it.

When Sam said he thought about and missed Jack and Cas and Dean replied with that he did too, but then "brushed it off", I honestly think that was on par with his character. Dean this past season (and all seasons, but especially this one) had really grown. He would talk about things bothering him to an extent. In my opinion, mostly to Cas. Sure, he'd eventually tell Sam but usually after some huge fight but it just came naturally with Cas. And it's because it's just easier to talk to your friends and let them see you in a "weak" moment than with your family—especially when said family is someone you've protected for a majority of your life. I think that was definitely in character (although my headcanon is that Dean cries late at night when it's just him and only Miracle is there to comfort him).

So next, a case just falls into their lap and they soon discover that it's a hunt John never completed. And here's my next reason.

2. John was said to be one of the best hunters, but he didn't know that was a vamp nest.

Look, it just doesn't make any sense. Sure, they wore masks and did some other weird shit to throw hunters off the trail, but the most prominent sign points to vampires! Sam got it in one, so, really, what the hell?

So they go and find the nest pretty easily and it's a simple MOTW ep. And the boys have fought some major Big Bad's in their day, so run-of-the-mills vamps should be pretty easy, right? Apparently not, which leads me into my third reason.

3. The actual vampire didn't even kill Dean their usual way. Didn't turn him, didn't rip out the throat or anything like that. In fact, the vampire simply got lucky.

Sure, you could argue that their plot armor was gone, but that's not fair. The Winchester Brothers are amazing hunters and they do know how to actually fight. That wasn't Chuck, at least, not all of it. The vampire did just get lucky and that's the devastating part. Dean didn't go out in some huge, end of the world battle. He went out with a stab to the back (one could argue that that's the network stabbing his character in the back and I'd honestly agree). Dean died terrified. Which leads me into my next reason and also an opinion that I haven't seen anyone else share.

4. Sam could've healed him or gotten him help.

I don't knock Sam for this. Dean was genuinely frightened. But this brings me to my opinion. So, Dean, as we all know, has spent his entire life thinking he's not good enough, that he's meant to die bloody, he's just a soldier, a grunt, that he doesn't matter, not the way Sam does. I feel like Dean was aware that Sam could've helped him pretty quickly considering the fact that Sam was a witch trained under Rowena, and he chose to let himself die at that moment. He figured this was the way he was always gonna go and since he doesn't have to worry about another big bad coming onto the board, I think he felt that it was time to stop cheating Death—it always ended messy. Sure, I do truly think he wanted to live his life (more on that later), but I think in this moment, he actually wanted to die. He'd lost Cas, and Jack was in the wind and dust and rain and whatever the fuck else. All he had was his brother and Miracle and Sam could take care of himself now along with Miracle. In that moment, that's all he could think about.

5. No one else attended Dean's funeral.

Maybe Sam didn't tell anyone so he could just mourn alone, but there's no way, had anyone else known, that they would let Sam be alone after losing the only biological family member he had left. That just doesn't make any sense. It certainly wouldn't have gone over well with Jody and Donna; they'd at least show support for Sam. But Claire, Alex, Patience, Krissy even???? Garth, Bess, and the kids??? Or every hunter in the US of A seeing as, despite causing a lot of the bad shit in the show, they did clean everything up and saved/helped a lot of people. Out of respect, surely they'd show up.

6. From the official looking document sitting on Dean's desk that we see as Sam's mourning, Dean was looking into a job.

This is important because it means that he was getting ready to retire (also why he wasn't looking for any hunts). He wanted to live his life for Cas and everyone they lost, so their sacrifices weren't in vain (and he died anyways, jesus christ).

So after that brief time alone, Sam packs up everything and Miracle and they leave the bunker. This next reason is kinda stupid, but it really did hit me hard.

7. No one knows all that history is down there. And if they do, no one can get to it.

Sam had to have locked it up so all that knowledge didn't fall into the wrong hands. You could argue that he told his son about it, seeing as his son does have an anti-posession tattoo, but we don't know. All we know is what we were shown, which is Sam had a son named Dean and he played catch with him, helped him with his homework, told him something about the supernatural (hence the tattoo) and that's it. We get nothing else.

8. Sam spends the rest of his life with a blurry, unimportant wife (see family photos in which she's featured in absolutely none of them), and mourning the death of the brother, one of his close friends, and his son.

Now people can argue that Sam wasn't a father figure to Jack (or more like an uncle), but he definitely was. Cas, Dean, and Sam were all parental figures to Jack, that's the story. That aside, Sam had this air of sadness around him because we weren't given much else with Kansas' Carry On Wayward Son playing, so we don't know if he ever truly healed even a little. It honestly looks like he didn't. Like, at all.

9. Cas is apparently alive, but he didn't go meet the brothers or meet Dean in Heaven which is OOC as fuck

We're all assuming that the time skip in between ep 19 and 20 is a week, right? Because they stay pretty even with the flow so it's not so confusing. And it was about two weeks since Cas died in 18th episode and a week since Jack became the new god. Dean got there and it was already all reconstructed, so it must not have taken that long, so why didn't Cas, who considered the brothers his family, not go see them back on Earth? Maybe there were terms and he had to stay with Jack to mentor him or something but we don't know. They give us absolutely nothing to go on. And even if he couldn't leave Heaven or something, he must've known that Dean was there, so why didn't he meet him in there. He could have but we don't know. They just said fuck it all and ended the episode before we really got any damn answers.

10. Why did two different versions of Carry On Wayward Son play back to back?

It didn't seem to really go with the flow of anything and it was honestly kinda weird. Seriously. I get that the original was a peppier and that when we see Dean driving and Sam growing older. And it switches to the slower version as Sam is on his premature deathbed and then it stops when the brothers reunite. It was just... odd. All I could focus on was that during the ending.

11. Bobby must've sat there for like 5 seconds if Dean just drove down the road and Sam was already dead.

This one is also not a big deal but I thought it just didn't make sense. Time goes differently. And it wasn't even that long that Dean was in Heaven and Sam was already there. So, like, Bobby must've just gotten a beer and sat down when Dean turned up and he was like "shit, boy. Don't you know how to quit dyin'?!" because, honestly, I would have.

This are all of my big reasons right off the bat. There are more deeper reasons, but this is it for now. I really hope any of this made sense. But, like I said before I started this list, if you liked it, cool! I'm not in the business of telling people how they should feel about certain things. I just wanted to share some reasons why I didn't like it.

[kd-holloman]

Good evening, everyone! I bring you mur. MURDER. That’s right, have a very R-rated short story for you all. I’ve never written anything quite like this before, but I’ve been listening to a lot of true crime podcasts and in the spirit of spooky-season I wanted to write something about the scariest creatures of all: humans. I will tag everyone that seemed interested in my original post about it at the end, but PLEASE read the warnings before you decide to read further. 

Content Warning(s): Language, Violence, Blood, and graphic depictions of murder. 

Stupid fucking April. 

The day I married her, I’d  promised to love her through richer and poorer, sickness and health. I vowed  to provide for her, to keep a roof over her head, and food in her belly. And how did she repay me? By not ironing my fucking pants. 

Her life wasn’t that hard. She had to take care of the house and make sure the kids didn’t kill themselves. 

And she couldn’t even be bothered to iron my fucking slacks.

“Where are we going?” Jaime, or Jenny, or Jessica asked. She reeked of stale cigarettes and dollar store vanilla body spray. “We’re, like, out of town. I thought you said we were going to get fucked up.” 

I clenched my fingers around the steering wheel so hard they ached. Jenna didn’t need more meth. She needed to stop asking questions. “Do you want this shit or not?” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Then, shut the hell up and stop asking questions.” 

She scoffed and sat up a little straighter in her seat. Her bony arms held over her front to ward her off from the chill of the air conditioner. She watched as we passed below a giant sycamore, a gangly branch draped with Spanish moss stretched over the rutted goat-path that led to the cabin. “It’s kind of creepy out here. You’re not going to murder me out here, right?” 

I smiled in spite of myself. “Yeah, it’s pretty creepy.” 

I pulled the truck up in front of the leaning cabin. It had been in my family for generations. My grandfather had brought my father here when he was a boy. My dad used to tell me stories about how he and his old man would spend weekends during the summer catching catfish in the swamp and hunting squirrels that jumped from the boughs of the red maple trees. 

By the time I was old enough to go to camp, the cabin’s roof had caved in and my dad hadn’t had the money to fix it. The inclimate weather had rotted the floorboards, and a family of raccoons had made themselves at home in the walls. 

As nice as it would be to restore the shack to its former glory, I didn’t go to camp for the cabin, anyway. All of my business was done in the barn. 

“What the fuck. Do you live here?” Jasmine asked as she squinted through the darkness. 

I sighed. “Didn’t I tell you to shut the hell up?” 

“Yeah. Sorry.” 

I turned on my flashlight to see the overgrown path that led back to the crooked barn. Getting struck by a cottonmouth would put a damper on my evening plans. 

I pushed the barn door open, gestured for Jeanine to enter, and followed behind her. 

There was no electric in the rickety old barn, but the propane lanterns I had did the job just fine. I needed just enough light to see. I could feel the pulse of anticipation thrumming through my body. I had to fight to keep my hands steady as I hung the last lantern on its rusty nail. 

Jill stood in the middle of the barn, shivering in her stained tank top. “It’s cold.”

I couldn’t feel a chill in the air, but that didn’t mean much. I was starting to sweat beneath my thrift store threads. “I’ll light the woodstove.” 

I lit the woodstove and let Jenny try to warm herself by it in favor of inspecting my workbench. It was just as I’d left it about a year ago. All of my tools were in their assigned spots. I hovered my fingers above them: pliers, saw, bolt cutters. 

I picked up the hunting knife and ran my thumb along the blade. It had been dulled by use and time. The steel winked in the orange lamplight. It reminded me of the time my dad had given me my first pocket knife.

“Remember, son,” he said seriously as he held the folded pocket knife between his thumb and forefinger, “a dull knife is more dangerous than a sharp one.” 

At the time, I hadn’t cared. I had only wanted to take my knife and whittle sticks down to sharp points. Now that I was older, I understood what he meant. A sharp knife left clean cuts. It did less damage to the tissues around the blade. Wounds caused by sharp knives were easier to heal than dull ones.

“Do you have the stuff or what?” Jeannine asked. 

Again with the fucking questions. I held the knife down by my side. “Come here.”

She hesitated at the harshness of my tone. 

It was too late for sensibility. She should have thought about before she’d gotten into my truck. 

“Get your ass over here!”  

One step. 

April should have iron my fucking slacks. 

Two steps. 

If my slacks hadn’t been wrinkled Leslie Wilford wouldn’t have looked at me like that. Like I was a rat that had scurried from the gutter. 

Three. 

This dumb bitch, Julia, Josephine, Jane--what ever the fuck her name was--should have never gotten in my truck.

Four. 

And I couldn’t stand the stink of her cloying vanilla perfume. 

Fury had blood roaring in my ears. The hunting knife shook in my hand. When Juliet was close enough to reach, I grabbed her with my left arm to hold her steady and jammed the blade into her gut, below her sternum. It took a little more force than I anticipated. The first cut always took me by surprise. 

Her expression went from cautious to stunned. Her eyes widened, her bony fingers wrapped around my wrist. She tried to pry my hand free, but years of sacrificing her meals for drugs had left her weak. 

I pushed harder. The blade scraped against bone. 

A sound pulled its way from her lungs, in a nearly-sensual moan.

I yanked the knife free.

Blood bloomed on the front of her tank top, dark and spreading. It looked like one of those tests psychiatrist gave their crazy patients. What does this look like to you?

It looked like release.

I stabbed her again. 

Her body lurched with the force of the impact. She staggered back a step or two. 

 I yanked it free and thrust the knife back into her body. The handle was slick with blood, warm and wet against my palm. 

Her knees gave out and I let her fall to the floor. 

I knelt down over her, knees pinning her arms to the cool dirt below. 

She opened her mouth, a trickle of crimson ran from the corner, staining her pale skin like ink. She tried to speak, couldn’t, closed her mouth, and then opened it again. She looked like a fish that had just been yanked from the stream. “Please,” she gurgled, “stop.” It was such a feeble sound. So frail. So tragic. 

I reached up and pressed my thumb to her cheek. It left a bloody smear behind. I leaned down so I knew she could hear me when I murmured, “No.” 

As I felt her blood sticking to my hands, a primal force overcame me. It had tasted blood and wouldn’t be sated until the life had fully drained from her eyes. 

I stabbed her again, and again, and again. Blood splattered my face, hot and wet. I could taste the copper of it on my lips. 

Well after she took her last breath, I pulled the knife free for a final time and dropped my aching arms to my sides. While I caught my breath I took a few moments to bask in my adrenaline-laced euphoric high.

Humans were bound to this lifeless rock, doomed to work nine-to-five jobs they hated until their very essence ran dry. Killing was the only thing that made me feel alive.

                                                 ###

Dawn was just breaking by the time I pulled into my driveway, exhausted and sated. I got out of the truck, balancing a box of muffins and coffee while I tried to work up the energy to pretend like I hadn’t spent all night dismembering and spreading a corpse through the swamp.

“Good morning, Rob!” 

“Good morning, Luanne,” I greeted. 

“What are you out doing so early this morning?” She asked, her schnauzer sniffing around her plushy pink slippers. 

Luanne was a sweet lady, but I really fucking hated it when people asked me too many questions. “Oh, I just wanted to get April and the kiddos something special for breakfast.” I held up the box of muffins as if it explained everything. “Would you like a muffin?” 

“Aw, you’re so sweet.” She waved me a way with an arthritic hand, “I can’t. I don’t want to mess up my sugar too much. Have a nice day, Rob!”

“Take care.” I smiled until I watched her take her dog inside. Then, I went up the steps to my own front door. I mentally prepared myself to greet my family. I was going to have to be my best self for them and for the students at Van Buren Academy. 

After all, their vice principal needed to look his best. 

And I would. 

As long as April remembered to iron my fucking slacks. 

Tag List: @lordkingsmith, @howdy-writes, @lanawritesalittle, @pertinax--loculos, @kirsten-is-writing, @heytherelindsay, @lukawriting, @alicewestwater, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @baconkat02, @bottichelli

[paulabelleflores]

Dance Like No Other

Sun was gaining more and more power, winter was fighting its last battles, spring was spreading slowly but steady and I felt like dancing. With my dogs, with the birds outside, with the delicate spring-flavoured wind.

Everybody should dance. At least twice a day. I do. It gives one such a rejuvenating feeling. Just like spring does.

The dance joyful energy filled my every cell and I felt the need to paint it. I started searching for protagonists for my painting story. Since I was always in awe with the elegance and the grace of ballerinas, I thought it would be a great idea to paint one.

Ora, the prima-ballerina I had chosen to model me for my painting was not a regular ballet dancer. She was special. A bit eccentric and really spoiled and stubborn, but extremely talented and devoted to her art. She lived for her ballet. And she wouldn't model for me by dancing with just any partner. She wanted the best one, because she wanted to give a performance to remember and that couldn't be done with a regular man. So I had traveled far and wide, searching/looking for what she asked for. And just the moment I wanted to quit, he appeared in front of my eyes: the red-crowned crane, Akio, from Japan. His dance was exquisite. I couldn't take my eyes off of him. My presence didn't seem to bother him. He was so absorbed in his dance that he, probably, hadn't even noticed me. I felt like my quest was over! There he was: someone who not only danced like no other but who was, also, so passionate about what he was doing that everything disappeared around him while he danced.

The fact that he was a crane, was a bit of a problem at first. But we overcame that. After many discussions (lucky me he was a good English speaker), Akio agreed to be my ballerina's partner and so I introduced them to one another. They spent some time togheter to get to know each other so they could bond in the spring-celebration dance they would perform for me to paint.

Akio told Ora that his kind has been dancing since the beginning of time and they consider dance a sacred thing. In their society, they dance for sheer joy, celebrating life. Otherwise, they only dance with their mate. Their unison dance is a celebration of their love, a ritual the pair will perform together many times over the years, to strengthen their lifelong bond. Parents teach their babies to dance and young cranes practice dancing for years before they choose a mate. Akio was a young crane who didn't have a mate, yet, but he had an innate dancing talent.

Ora had also found out that the red-crowned crane was on the brink of extinction in Japan due to hunting and the destruction of their natural marshland habitat for agricultural development. But, happily, the Japanese people took action and, in 1920, a group of farmers started feeding the birds in the wild. The crane population grew and nowadays there are over a thousand birds in Hokkaido region in Japan, but they are totally dependant on humans for food during the winter, therefore their future is still uncertain.

Many other interesting things did Ora find out that day, like the impressive wingspan of Akio, that is 2.5 m, his height that is about 1.58 m, that the red patch on his head is not a feather but bare skin, or that the red-crowned crane is one of the longest-living species of bird, living up to 30-40 years in the wild or up to 70 years in captivity.

When Ora's time to talk came, she didn't know what to share.  She wanted to tell so many things but she had to choose the most relevant ones. And...she did. In her way. Akio learned that she was the only child and maybe that's why she was so stubborn and spoiled, that she wasn't a natural brunette (I don't know why she considered that an important thing to share, but she did) and that her secret wish was to ride a bear. Her favourite ballet piece was Stravinsky's “The Rite of Spring”. That was not such a surprise, knowing her, but, even if she would have liked “Swan Lake” the most, she couldn't have said that to a crane.  Akio had also found out that even if the ballet dancers are typically known for their grace, poise, and dedication, they are incredibly strong and probably are the strongest athletes out there, as several studies had found. One mustn't be fooled by the delicate appearance of a ballerina. They are really tough, both physically and mentally. Ballet is such a complex art sport that many athletes take ballet lessons to improve their performances. To name a few: Eddie George, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Barry Sanders. Also, The Chicago Bulls used to train with the Joffrey Ballet troupe in the off-season during the Michael Jordan Era.

I definitely have to google for Arnold, the ballet dancer, to see if she was not making things up because, sometimes, she really seems to live in her own fabricated world.

That was all the sharing Ora did. She wanted to say so much more but she couldn't decide what, so she stopped.

But the crane was pleased with the things he learned and they started to dance and I started to paint. They totally completed each other: the most graceful dancers from two different worlds dancing like one. A strange but superb duet. At the end of one week, my painting was ready, but the Ora and Akio hadn't noticed I finished. They kept on dancing like no other couple had ever done. I left leaving them moving gracefully under the blossomed cherry tree. They were a weird pair. But perfect.

[furry-monster-trash]

What if Oakheart joined ThunderClan?

This has spoilers/information from “Crookedstar’s Promise” these parts will be bolded.

Two moons into her pregnancy, Bluefur attends a gathering to tell Oakheart that she is expecting his kits.

Oakheart tells Crookedstar (his brother) that Bluefur is having his kits. Crookedstar is not surprised.

A few days pass and Oakheart has been neglecting his warrior duties. He ultimately decides that he will attempt to join ThunderClan to help father his kits.

Crookedstar accepts his decision and says that he will go with Oakheart to ThunderClan: “I need to speak with Sunstar.”

The two arrive at the ThunderClan camp, escorted by Thistleclaw and Whitestorm.

Sunstar brings the two RiverClan cats into his den after calming his clan down.

Oakheart asks to join ThunderClan, with Sunstar interrupting his plea “You’re the father to Bluefur’s kits.”

Oakheart confirms the ThunderClan leader’s suspicions, saying that he never meant for it to happen, but that he fell in love with Bluefur and now he wants to father the kits.

Sunstar doesn’t respond and instead asks why Crookedstar came as well.

Crookedstar informs Sunstar that Thistleclaw - the next best option for deputy - has been training in the Dark Forest and has a thirst for blood that must be stopped. “It would be best to choose a stand-in deputy until Bluefur can do those duties.” During this, he also explains his connection with the Dark Forest, although not in heavy detail.

Sunstar takes Crookedstar’s words to heart and then informs Oakheart that he may join ThunderClan with only one condition: “You are to do apprentice tasks until you prove yourself to be loyal to us. You will also be trained in the ways of ThunderClan. If you join us, you are no longer a RiverClan warrior, you will be a ThunderClan one. If you ever show loyalty towards RiverClan outside of what the warrior code allows, my warriors have every right to drive you from our land.”

Oakheart accepts this condition and says his goodbyes to Crookedstar, who is sad to see his brother leave his side. Ottersplash is the new deputy of RiverClan.

When only Crookedstar leaves the ThunderClan camp, Sunstar makes the announcement that Oakheart is joining ThunderClan. He leaves out the fact that he is the father of Bluefur’s kits. 

Lionheart is tasked to look after Oakheart’s new training.

Bluefur takes Oakheart out into the forest after the clan dies down from the news and yells at him, saying that she had it covered and he didn’t have to join ThunderClan, “At the very least you should’ve talked to me about it!”

Sunstar brings in his senior warriors to discuss Thistleclaw and the deputy position. Adderfang agrees to act as deputy until Bluefur can take over: “I have no ambition to be the next leader, but I don’t want our clan to become soaked with blood due to my former apprentice.”

Thistleclaw receives no real punishment for his participation in the Dark Forest.

Lionheart takes Oakheart out to teach him how to hunt land prey that isn’t commonly found on RiverClan territory and how to stalk in the forest. Oakheart picks this up quickly.

Oakheart brings fish regularly to the fresh-kill pile much to the elders’ disgust, but the younger warriors and apprentices don’t seem too bothered by the extra prey.

When Bluefur gives birth, Oakheart lets her name all three of the kits. At this point, everyone in ThunderClan knows that he is their true father, not Thrushpelt.

For the first moon of the kits’ lives, Oakheart frets over every move they make and brings both them and Bluefur fresh-kill twice a day.

Stonekit, Mistykit, and Mosskit are loved and adored by all members of ThunderClan, with the three regularly going to the elders’ den for stories or trying to learn things from the warriors.

Oakheart is chosen by Sunstar to come to the border re-marking on Sunningrocks. Oakheart has been in ThunderClan for two moons now.

Oakheart leaves his scent as a ThunderClan warrior but stays at the border for a few moments longer than the rest of the patrol. Thistleclaw accuses him of wanting to go back to RiverClan. Oakheart ignores his accusations.

At the next gathering, RiverClan warriors spit at Oakheart and call him a traitor. “You know Sunningrocks belongs to RiverClan and yet you claim it for ThunderClan!”

Oakheart and Bluefur spend more time together as the kits finally reach the age where they can be left alone. The two go on a hunting patrol together and prove to be good partners.

White-eye agrees to look after their kits so that the two can go talk things out alone, not surrounded by anybody.

Oakheart confesses his love for Bluefur once more, a sentiment she returns. Bluefur asks if he misses RiverClan: “I miss my brother and my friends, but I’m becoming accustomed to the trees and woodland prey. Very few members of ThunderClan treat me as an outsider now.”

They spend the night out in the forest, pressed up against one another.

The kits are now three moons old and Oakheart spends every moment he can with them, trying to be as good of a father to them as Shellheart was to him. He plays with the three of them and teaches them about the warrior code.

When the kits are apprenticed, Stonepaw is given to Whitestorm, Mistypaw is given to Leopardfoot, and Mosspaw is given to Brindleface.

Oakheart teaches his kits to swim and how to fish.

At this point in Oakheart being in ThunderClan, Sunstar asks him to teach all of ThunderClan how to swim, not just his own kits.

Oakheart agrees but only to teach them at night when his former clan cannot see him.

Bluefur almost drowns and is saved by Oakheart. She thanks him for saving her life and clings to him until they get out of the river. Bluefur is the only ThunderClan warrior that almost drowns.

When Bluefur joins the warriors’ den again, her and Oakheart share a nest.

Oakheart teaches his kits how to attack from the water once they are eight moons old. Several ThunderClan warriors are also taught these moves (Sunstar, Lionheart, Bluefur, Frostfur, Patchpelt, and Goldenflower).

Bluefur is named the deputy of ThunderClan.

Thistleclaw attempts to murder Bluefur so that he can be the deputy of ThunderClan. Oakheart saves her life and kills Thistleclaw in the process.

Sunstar says that Thistleclaw always had a thirst for blood and wished him peace now that he is dead.

RiverClan attacks the ThunderClan camp after a few moons of accused prey-stealing.

Oakheart fights alongside ThunderClan and gives his former clanmates more than a few scars to remember him by. Voleclaw and him battle fiercely but Oakheart beats the RiverClan tom. This bout is seen by everyone in ThunderClan.

Sunstar honors Oakheart alongside the rest of ThunderClan for defending their camp.

At this point, there are few who distrust Oakheart as a loyal warrior of ThunderClan.

After the fight, Sunstar orders that those who know how to swim (almost everyone in the clan at this point) teach new apprentices how to swim as well and those that know water-fighting techniques teach those moves to all new apprentices as well.

Sunstar loses his last life and Bluefur earns her nine lives.

Oakheart sleeps inside the leader’s den with Bluefur. Redtail is the new deputy of ThunderClan.

Every other clan now knows that ThunderClan can swim, fish, and fight in the water after each clan sees these new techniques in their own time.

ThunderClan rarely goes hungry now because every new cat is taught how to fish.

Seasons pass and now Stonepaw, Mistypaw, and Mosspaw have earned their warrior names: Stonefur, Mistyfoot, and Mossleap.

Oakheart is the mentor to Ravenpaw instead of Tigerclaw.

When Rusty joins ThunderClan, Oakheart takes a special interest in him because he was also treated as an outsider for many moons after he joined.

Redtail dies over a fight for Sunningrocks, he fell off the edge and snapped his neck. Lionheart is named the new deputy.

Oakheart helps to mentor Firepaw alongside Ravenpaw. He notes that Firepaw has keen skills for a kittypet and could even rival some clan-born apprentices.

Firepaw’s formal mentor is Mistyfoot.

Oakheart trusts Yellowfang from the moment she steps in the ThunderClan camp.

Spottedleaf dies from wounds from Clawface. Lionheart does not die from ShadowClan.

When ShadowClan is revealed to be training kits and falling apart under Brokenstar’s rule, Oakheart is part of the raid to take back the stolen kits and he personally drives away Brokenstar.

Ravenpaw, Graypaw, and Firepaw earn their warrior names: Ravenwing, Graystripe, and Fireheart.

Oakheart disapproves of Cloudkit being brought into the camp because it was the dead of leaf-bare, not because he is a kittypet.

Tigerclaw’s ambition brings the rogues from ShadowClan into the heart of ThunderClan. During this raid, Lionheart dies from his wounds. Tigerclaw attempts to murder Fireheart because of his kittypet roots and the fact that Bluestar always favored Fireheart over him.

Oakheart leaps in to save Fireheart and the two large toms fight. Tigerclaw kills Oakheart and Fireheart beats Tigerclaw afterward.

Bluestar demands that Tigerclaw is kept prisoner for the time being while she mourns the death of her mate.

Bluestar names Fireheart the new deputy of ThunderClan.

Tigerclaw’s schemes are revealed at the gathering and he is driven from the forest.

Bluestar never loses faith in StarClan. Swiftpaw and Brightpaw are named Swiftbreeze and Brightheart, but the two still try to drive out the dogs. Swiftbreeze dies and Brightheart is maimed.

Bluestar still gives her life to save Fireheart from the dogs and Oakheart is the first one to welcome her to StarClan.

Oakheart gives Firestar a life (in place of Redtail) for always trusting your instincts and doing what is right, even if it hurts.

ThunderClan continues to teach its warriors how to fish, swim, and fight in the water. A tradition held up by Firestar.

[jarofrebuke-transcripts]

Jar of Rebuke Episode 10 Unofficial Transcript

Season 1 Episode 10: Observations A

INTRO

The following audio recording is classified documentation for Case [audio distortion] with the Enclosure. Unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

DARIUS

Hey Jared! Uh… guess I called in at a bad time, huh? I just wanted to give a quick call to chat? Nothing serious, everything’s okay, don’t worry, I just want to check in. We’ve both been really busy the last few days, but I thought I’d see if you wanted to… I don’t know, grab lunch here soon? I know work’s got your schedule pretty full so we can meet up during your lunch break? I know the Waytooth has $1 pie slices around lunchtime, and their strawberry rhubarb pie is to die for. I think you’ll like it. Also, there’s a part of your birthday present I never actually got to give you? I kinda wanted to give it to you when it was just you and me, but we didn’t actually have any time to ourselves on your birthday? It’s nothing big, I could even just, uh, send it to you if you prefer. Anyways, just give me a call when you got the chance. Or text, that’s cool too. We could meet up whenever, as long as my dads know and give them a heads up, it’s fine. Well, besides Saturday. We have some maintenance that’s gotta be done and I already promised to help. So, any day besides Saturday. Um, hope you’re having a good day? Talk to you later.

JARED

I am such an idiot! Does Darius really? Uh, I mean, how long has he? I’m, I’m so dense! I got this voicemail this morning when I was in the shower. I thought about just calling him back but it felt… weird. I was a little concerned and Very confused so, well, I called Jamie for advice. She’s quickly becoming my go-to for, well, things like this. Literally all she did was call me a dense bitch and broke down for me what apparently was obvious and I… well, now I don’t really know what to do. So, Darius likes me. I mean, I guess it kind of makes sense. He did put together a party for my birthday. It was small, cozy really, but he really put a lot of thought into it, which he really didn’t have to. But that’s not necessarily romantic, right? It was on the Chapman farm, and there were all sorts of decorations and things to eat. Everyone that came bought something and it was really nice! Some were homemade dishes, others were things that people brought in from places in town. And it was all delicious. It wasn’t too big, which I was really grateful for. But there were quite a few people that I’ve learned to call friends. Including Holly and some of the folks that I haven’t really seen since the snipe hunt! And Jamie said that he wouldn't have put all of that time into making me a cake if he didn't really… well, it was actually kind of cute. He got all flushed when he presented it because the icing was sort of falling apart and, oh, shit, he likes me.

[Grove walks to Jared] Hey buddy. I don’t really know how I am supposed to feel or how to respond. I haven't really been in this sort of situation, at least not that I can remember. Ugh, gods, what if I'm a bad partner? No one’s bothered to come looking or reach out, or… I have to really think about it. But I don't know what to say to him until I figure it out. I have to get back to him eventually.

Hmm. Anyway, in other news, I brought up the moving shadows I have been seeing to Dr. Daman. Apparently it’s rather common to have stress-induced hallucinations like those, especially with my trouble sleeping recently. She recommended that I try sleep aids, but I’m not really sure on how I feel about that either. There’s nothing wrong with people that need them to sleep, that’s all well and good. But something about chemically forcing me to sleep? I don't know, it just kind of rubs me the wrong way, I don’t... [sounds of Grove pawing at something] Hey, what are you getting into over there? (sighs) Grove has been sniffing around the house a lot lately. He did that when I first took him in, which is to be expected, but he’s just kept sniffing around. It’s like he’s searching for something, I don’t, whatever. Dogs do strange things, that doesn’t exclude hellhounds, I’m sure.

(sighs) Speaking of the whole Darius thing, we actually got to go sledding a few days before my birthday too. It was really nice. It was a lot colder than I expected. I know, I know, that yeah it’s snow, it’s cold, but it’s different when the cold is outside of your clothes than when it gets literally everywhere. But I don't know, it was exhilarating. But in a really good way, not a “running desperately for your life” kind of way. Holly ended up Beaming Darius with a snowball, their aim is brutal. He flew right off the sled and into a snowbank and he came up covered in snow, looking like a snowman. I don’t think I've ever heard him laugh like that before. It was just so refreshing to be able to just live, to just exist with my friends for a little while in a way that distracted me from my own thoughts. Because when I get to thinking too much, I don't like what comes to my head. I think too much, for one thing, about work, about my nightmares, about this upcoming career day that I agreed to. If I do a bad job, which I’m sure I will, I’m going to let Anika down. The thought of that basically gives me hives. All of this stress led to Dr. Daman suggesting that I try medication again. I was hesitant, of course, but she said that if I don’t wanna try sleep aids I could at least try mood stabilizers or something. Last time I tried meds for my mood it did jack diddly squat for me. She suggested that we try a different type of medication and at this point I am willing to try pretty much anything to help with these thoughts and the mood swings. I hate being so unstable, I hate having no real reason to feel sad or anxious and yet that is all I can feel.

So I've started up another medication. They say it will likely take a few weeks to kick in, so we’ll just have to wait and see. And I can’t tell if this is just general anxiety or if I am anxious about the medication itself, too. Not like it can make things much worse right? [knocks] Knock on wood at least. I really gotta stop saying things like that, I know it will just invite things to get worse. Like I still keep catching glimpses of that shadow around my house. Dr. Daman is sure that it’s just stress. Mr. Zimmer doesn’t even think that it’s there. I know it is, I’ve seen it in my peripheral. Sometimes I see it behind me, over my shoulder in the mirror. I never see it for long though, just glimpses. I know it’s there, it’s gotta be, right? Mr. Zimmer says that it’s all in my head, that I’m imagining things. At least Dr. Daman gives a reason as to Why I would be seeing it, but Mr. Zimmer is sure that there’s other things I should be focusing on. Like remembering. We’ve started something called accelerated resolution therapy, or ART. He said it’s typically usually used in treating things like trauma, which he’s pretty sure isn’t my issue, especially since I don't even remember anything, but it is rooted in memory, so we’re trying it out. He basically makes me move my eyes back and forth, walks me through a scene, and I sort of relive it in my head. It’s used to rewire emotional responses, I think? But we’re trying to see if it helps me remember anything. And so far… nothing. Mr. Zimmer is fairly certain that I’m just not trying hard enough, but I’m trying as hard as I can, I just can’t remember anything. I think he got a little huffy with me after our last session didn’t bring up anything too terribly substantial to the surface, which I hated. Both his frustration and the lack of progress. So I did tell him about that sweet smell back at the school that flew me into a panic after smelling it? Smell is the sense most closely linked to memory right, so it’s gotta be something. He seemed curious about it and had me describe the smell. The faintest sweetness, a mild smell. It smells good, almost too good. The word that he used was an ethereal smell, which, sure, I guess. But how ethereal can it be if it causes me to break into a sweat and feel the need to run? He dismissed that question, took some notes, and then carried on to the next topic as if I hadn’t even mentioned anything. Nothing.

I don't even want to bring it up with Dr. Daman at this point. Recently it seemed like she steeled her resolve to help me and has been more active in figuring out what’s going on. But we've been at this for years now. I'm not sure what we could do that we haven't tried before. Unless I'm just not trying hard enough… No. I am trying my hardest to remember, but it just feels like I’m slamming my head against a brick wall more than I’m actually remembering anything. I touched on my nightmares again, but they both just chalked it up to stress with work and fitting in with the community. Which, you know, Dr. Daman used to be so supportive of me going out and mingling with those in town? But now, just so flippant about it. Like she couldn’t care less either way about it anymore. Whatever.

(sighs) I guess I should give Darius a call back here soon. I just have no idea what to say. I don't wanna change what we have, i don't want to lose what we have, but… i don't know. I’m not opposed to the idea of dating I guess? I just… we’re good friends, I really like being around him and everything, but just because I’m a good friend doesn’t mean I will be a good partner. I’m always so busy with work, and I have no clue what it means to be in a romantic relationship. And if we Were to date, what kind of relationship is built on so many lies? Yeah, sure, I try to usually tell at least a half truth or whatever when I can, but it’s still kind of lying. He doesn't even know the real me! Would he like me if he did? All this baggage and whatever else that I’d bring into the relationship? What would he say when he realizes I only have two years of real life experience. That I rebound from death with nothing to show for it other than more scars and some bodily discomfort. He’s asked about my scars before, the little ones on my hands and arms, mostly. But I think I've caught him looking at the ones on my face. I don’t… I don’t like it when people stare at them. And he doesn’t stare, but still. He’s taken notice. He’s asked what happened and I told him, oh, you know, general hazards of life! He chuckled at it, but I don’t think he fully bought it. He still seems concerned from time to time, but I think he just tries to help me keep my mind busy and keep me trying new things when I’m not weighed down by work. He’s… a great guy. A good cook, a great teacher, a great friend. When I’m low energy, he’s always down to just sit with me and not do much. When I want someone to talk to he’s always there to listen, and to chat, as long as he’s not busy with his work or his own classes, which did wrap up last month, so we’ve been spending a bit more time together. I introduced him to Jamie, it was a bit in passing, but they seemed to get along well. I was just showing Jamie more around town after getting lunch, we’d actually been heading back to my car when we bumped into him outside Mrs. Weddington’s Bakery. They were like two peas in a pod pretty quickly. I’m going to try to have us all hang out here soon.

(sighs) But I… I gotta talk with Darius one on one first. Gods, it’s so much easier to interact with the creatures that I study, to be honest. People are just [Grove starts growling] more complicated? At least for me. I don’t- [Grove knocks over something] Hey, hey, woah, what- what’re you getting into? What did you- [Grove snarls] Is that… a camera? When, when did that get there? Shit, are there more? [audio distortion] Uh, no, you know what? No. Screw that. This is my house, I am not gonna have this shit in my own house! [static rises then cuts off]

OUTRO

Jar of Rebuke is created and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hel. Darius Chapman is voiced by VynVox. The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashley Craft, who has created the podcast official graphics. Episode was edited by Chelsea Finley. Episode was written by Casper Oliver and Jenny O’ Sullivan. Music was created by Luke Menniss, spelled m-e-n-n-i-s-s, who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify and Twitch. If you’ve been enjoying us, please consider leaving a rating, review or comment, wherever you tune in. You can also support us on Patreon or Podhero by following the links in our episode description. And special thanks to our patreon supporters, Tristan, Perry, Devin, Becky, Nico, Danny and Joyce.

[katastroficwriter]

Fic title, "vulnerable"? :)

vulnerable

Summary: Kiibo and Ouma should never be together.

Especially when exploring a decrepit high school with rotting floorboards.

In which Kiibo and Ouma dug themselves a deeper hole than expected when they accidentally crashed to the bottom of a run down school with no other way out.

Tags: Supernatural, Heart-to-heart conversations

                                         ———————————-

“So ghosts, am I right?”

“GAAAH!!! SHUT UP! STOP TALKING ABOUT GHOSTS! I DON’T SEE NO GHOST! GHOSTS AREN’T REAL! YOU PROBABLY JUST MADE GHOSTS UP!” Momota’s sudden outburst easily grabbed everyone’s attention from whatever conversation they were having..

The next thing they saw was the face-splitting grin that slowly took over the supreme leader’s face.

“What’s the matter, Momota Kaito-chan, “Luminary of the Stars”? Scared of a few ghoooooosts~?” he cooed mockingly. “Then again…you know what they say! The more terrified they are…the louder they howl. Wow~!  You’re such a big coward, Momota-chan!”

“SCARED? ME? Of-of-of c-course not! Why the hell would I b-be s-scared of something that doesn’t even e-exist!” the astronaut stammered, taking a couple of steps back. “And I’m no coward!”

“I beg to differ, Momota-kun. There have been countless traces of the souls of the dead roaming in plenty of villages I’ve visited in the past, ku ku ku…” Shinguuji added, waving his index finger a little. “It was truly a wondrous experience. I still remember it as if it were only yesterday.”

“See? Even Shinguuji-chan says they’re real,” Ouma snickered. “And that’s why I want to see them for myself!”

“I-It has to be a lie! You probably roped Shinguuji into this! As long as you’re involved, it has to be a lie!” Despite the strength in Momota’s accusation, everyone can tell how badly his legs were shaking like a newborn fawn’s.

“You’re just afraid of the truth, that’s why you always dismiss it as lies,” Ouma tapped at his lips with a deceitfully serene smile.

“Everybody settle down!” Akamatsu huffed, placing her hands on her hips. “Anyway…what’s with this sudden interest in ghosts, Ouma-kun?”

“Finally! Someone asking the right questions. I knew I can count on you, Akamatsu-chan~” Ouma waved his arms up and down with uncontained excitement. “You see…I wanted to propose a class bonding activity in the form of a test of courage!”

“A test of courage? Hah! I’ll ace that like how I aced my astronaut exam!” Momota slammed a fist against his chest, color returned to his face.

“After your shameful display? I highly doubt that,” the supreme leader made a show of flicking dirt off his nails.

“Ouma you bastard–”

“But a test of courage in Spring? Isn’t that a little…off-season?” Shirogane spoke, raising her hand. “Wouldn’t Summer or Autumn be a more suitable time for those kinds of things?”

“Oui, Oui! Shirogane-chan!” Ouma crossed his arms over his chest. “But you see, the abandoned Saishuu Academy would be demolished next month! We absolutely cannot afford to wait for Summer or Autumn!”

“Saishuu…Academy?” Saihara lifted the bill of his hat as he spoke. “Why there?”

“Huh? Is there something going on with Saishuu Academy, Saihara-kun?” Akamatsu tilted her head to the side.

The detective tugged his hat lower, “Um…none that I know of. It’s just…my great-great-grandfather used to go there during his time.”

“Exactly!” Ouma pointed at the detective. “Saishuu Academy is one of the, if not the oldest school in the entirety of Japan! It’s bound to house a lot of ghosts in it!”

“What makes you so damn sure about that, you gremlin? It’s not like people fucking died there!” Iruma scoffed.

“Shut your stinky mouth and listen, pig, you might actually learn something if you do,” Ouma slammed a hand on his desk.

“H-hiiee!” 

“The school has a clean record, sure. But I’ll have you know that Saishuu Academy was in fact built over an execution ground for criminals! A prison! There’s plenty of deaths on that land, that’s for sure!”

“Nnngh…you’re probably just lying again!” Yumeno pointed an accusatory finger at the leader, though her bravado was belied by her pale face. “Y-you’re just saying that to d-disrupt my mana flow!”

“Oh, but what Ouma-kun said is in fact true,” Shinguuji chuckled. “I even have records of it in my lab. I would present it to you all, however, it’s a very old record and thus very fragile to the elements. I do not wish to damage it.”

“S-stupid! This idea is stupid anyway! Why do I have to go through a test of courage when we already know how courageous I am!” Momota slammed his fists together. “G-ghosts or a-ayakashi, or y-y-youkai, they aren’t r-real and are just stories invented to t-torment the feeble-minded!”

“No need to be shy, Momota-chan, we all know you mean you,” Ouma smiled. “Anyway! If anyone wants to join in the fun, just go meet me and Kiiboy by Saishuu Academy’s school gate. I’ll only wait for 10 minutes. I’m entering the school whether or not you all come, just saying.”

“Wasn’t this supposed to be a class bonding activity?!” Chabashira raised a fist.

“That was a lie, really. I’m just making this announcement in case I die while exploring the place, nishishi! That way you’ll know where to look for my remains.” The leader hopped off his seat and approached the albino robot, who was currently sitting idly by the wall in sleep mode while he charged.  “Speaking of which, I really love nature so make sure you spread my ashes in the forest, okay?”

“B-bullshit! Stop fooling around!” Momota gritted his teeth.

“That aside…did Kiibo-kun already agree to this? I didn’t think he’d be the type to go on trips like this one,” Amami rubbed his nape.

“Oh, he doesn’t have a choice, really,” Ouma proceeded to poke and prod random buttons on the robot’s body. “I just needed something to take paranormal photos of! Kiiboy’s a machine, so he can definitely detect ghosts and print out a photo for us or two!”

“H-hey, you should stop messing with Kiibo, what if he blows up or something?” Momota shuddered had the thought. He still needed to go to space! There’s no way he’s going to die from an explosion!

“…Mmm? Huh? Up already? But I’m only at 79 percent…” Kiibo mimicked a yawn. “How did–”

“Morning sleepyhead~ Wanna go on a test and courage with us later?” the supreme leader flashed the android a toothy grin.

“O-Ouma-kun? Test of courage?” Kiibo’s brow furrowed as he began perusing the recording of the conversation which he slept through. “What for?”

“Just for some good ol’ class bonding,” Ouma tucked a strand of hair behind an ear. “You have no choice by the way, I only asked you for the sake of formality.”

The albino frowned at the remark after reviewing the entire conversation he missed. “You might as well have forgone the pretense of being polite, Ouma-kun. Go use your smartphone instead. After all, it’s still a machine which can also take photos.”

“Whaaat? No way! It has to be you, Kiiboy!” Ouma shook the robot by his shoulders, fake tears streaming down his cheeks. “Your flashlight function is way better than a phone’s! And you don’t need to hit a shutter just to take a photo! You’re more useful and convenient than any old smartphone for this!”

Kiibo paused at the unexpected praise. “…You’re just saying that to butter me up.”

“I’m nooot! I don’t just mean your camera function, I also mean your recording device! You can pick up subtle sounds right? Maybe you can pick up the messages of the dead too! That would be so cool! Come on Kiiboy, pleeeeeeease?” Ouma gave the android his best puppy dog eyes. “And didn’t the professor fix your shitty battery usage problem? That makes you even more useful!”

“Well…true…” Kiibo rubbed the back of his head, still a little weirded out from the leader’s behavior. “…Fine, I guess. But only to keep you out of trouble.”

“Yippeeeeee!!!” Ouma released the robot’s shoulders and started jumping around. “You’re the best, Kiiboy!”

“Kiibo-kun is so easy to sway as always,” Yonaga chimed.

“He still has a ways to go,” Hoshi tugged his hat lower. “He’s too soft, which is exactly why Ouma never stops bothering him.”

“That said, who’s going?” Amami asked, turning to look at the others. “I hardly know anything about the school since I’m almost always overseas, so I’m kinda curious about it. I’m going.”

“I will. I can’t help but worry,” Akamatsu raised her hand. “If something goes wrong, having more people around would make it easier to find help.”

“I will too! It would just be like Ghost Hunt! I’m so pumped!” Shirogane bounced in her seat excitedly. “I actually learned some basic warding spells from some monks for my cosplay research. If something does turn up, we won’t be completely helpless!”

“I’ll pass, this is a waste of time,” Harukawa played with one of her pigtails. “Not to mention dangerous. This is just asking for trouble.”

“I’ll pass too, unfortunately! I have to offer a special prayer for Atua tonight. I can’t afford to miss it,” Yonaga squished her cheeks together.

“I’ll go. I would love to do some recording of my own. Maybe I would be able to discover something new to add to the one I already have,” Shinguuji chuckled.

“Hyahaha! I’m cumming alright! I’m gonna take my ghostbusting gear with me!” Iruma grinned. “Ghosts or not, as long as I can test out my babies then it all checks out!”

“Gonta and Toujou-san are still away on a trip. It’s a shame that they can’t go,” the artist sighed. “Everyone seems so lively about the idea!”

“I don’t want to risk my entry in the next Tennis Tournament if I get in trouble for this,” Hoshi murmured. “Take care though. Don’t want any of you getting hurt.”

“That’s sweet of you, Hoshi-kun,” Akamatsu smiled.

“Well I’m not going! Tests of courage are nothing but a sneaky ploy for degenerate men to get handsy with girls!” Chabashira huffed.

“Mmmm…I’m going, I want to test out my exorcism magic I’ve been honing…” Yumeno rubbed her chin with a thoughtful look.

“If Yumeno-san is going then I will too~!!!” Chabashira pumped her fists in the air.

Saihara chewed on his lower lip before nodding to himself. “I’m going too. I’ve never seen its interior before, but I’ve heard rumors that it had plenty of secret rooms.”

“Wh–you too, Shuuichi?!” Momota gaped.

“It’s totally okay if you don’t come, Momota-chan! Just because your bestie is going doesn’t mean you have to. You don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Ouma cooed.

“Why I outta–”

BING! BONG! DING! DONG!

Ouma said nothing but smirked at the astronaut as he was literally saved by the bell, much to the other Ultimate’s chagrin. Their homeroom teacher entered a few minutes later, successfully ending their discussion about their plans later.

—————————————————-

“I’ll have you know that I’m leaving as soon as an hour is up,” Kiibo spoke as he carefully avoided stepping on rotten floorboards.

“What? Why?” Ouma stared at his partner in disbelief. “Don’t be such a spoilsport Kiiboy! Live a little!”

“Yes, I want to live, that’s why I do not want to stay here any longer than what’s necessary,” huffed the android. “I don’t want to worry the Professor for staying out too late. Not to mention this entire building is a hazard to everyone.”

“Tsk, fine, whatever. But you better get some good shots of ghosts you hear? I don’t want to leave this school empty handed,” Ouma pouted.

“That’s hardly something I can control, Ouma-kun,” Kiibo sighed.

Before entering the school premises, everyone drew lots for their pairs: Kiibo and Ouma; Shirogane and Shinguuji; Saihara and Yumeno; Chabashira and Iruma; and lastly, Akamatsu and Amami. It turned out that Momota’s evident fear of the supernatural made pairing up easy for everyone. They were all going to enter the school in that order, but they were free to explore any of the academy’s floors.

“Still, this really is a big school,” the android said with awe.

“Mmhm! It has tons of stuff in it. A church, a dormitory, clubrooms–” Ouma looked around the area, taking note of tattered and worn school festival fliers still posted on the cracked walls. “The land the property was on is really big, they were going to tear the school down and build a new mall.”

Kiibo looked at the fliers with dismay, “That’s…a bit of a shame. To have a place so full of memories get torn down for something like this.”

“Yeah. But time waits for no one. Money makes the modern world go round. Something abstract like memories don’t have economic value,” Ouma frowned, but eventually relaxed. “Anyway, detected any ghosts yet?”

Kiibo reviewed his memories and shook his head. “Sorry, still nothing.”

“Gahhh that’s so lame. How about we take the other way around?” Ouma huffed.

“N-NGAAAAAH! WHAT IS THAT? A ZOMBIE?!”

“Yumeno-san calm down! That’s just an old human-body model!”

“SAIHARA WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO YUMENO-SAN?!”

“Quite the loud bunch aren’t they?” the raven-haired Ultimate shook his head. “Maybe that’s why ghosts aren’t showing up. Maybe inviting them wasn’t such a good idea.”

“I think it’s better this way,” Kiibo chuckled. “The more the merrier, as they all say.”

“Nishishi! Maybe so,” Ouma huffed in amusement. “Mm? Hey, have we checked this room before?”

“Hmm…I don’t think so,” Kiibo looked up at the rusty signage above the dislodged door. “The library, huh.”

“Oooh! They probably have valuable books left behind, that’s a nice find. Let’s go in!” Ouma grabbed the android by his wrist, skipping through the doorway.

“Wait, not so fast Ouma-kun! The floor might give out–”

*CRACK*

“Huh?”

“Ouma-kun, hold onto me–!”

The floorboards had collapsed under their combined weight the moment they took their first step inside the old library. Down, down, down, they crashed. How many floors have they gone down exactly? None of them could keep count with both of their eyes shut tight. The only thing Ouma could register was the feeling of falling and strong metal arms wrapped around him protectively.

————————————————————-

CRAAAAAAAASH!

Akamatsu’s head perked up at the loud noise. “Oh no…”

As though reading her mind, Amami pulled out his cellphone and sent everyone a text.

‘Yell out your names if you’re safe. If you’re inside a room, get out so we can hear you.’

The pianist and the survivor nodded at each other before initiating the roll call.

“AKAMATSU KAEDE!”

“AMAMI RANTAROU!”

There was a beat of silence until the next person followed.

“YU-YUMENO HIMIKO!”

“SAIHARA SHUUICHI!”

“IRUMA MIU!”

“CHABASHIRA TENKO!!!”

“SHINGUUJI KOREKIYO!”

“SHIROGANE TSUMUGI!”

Silence followed.

“That can’t be right…where’s Ouma-kun and Kiibo-kun?” Akamatsu’s forehead creased with worry.

“That could only mean that they were the ones who crashed. We better look for them fast, they’re probably hurt,” Amami hastily tapped another message, telling everyone to meet up at the entrance hall. “Let’s go.”

“Okay.”

Akamatsu and Amami carefully proceeded towards the meeting place, mindful of their footsteps now more than ever. Shirogane and Shinguuji arrived at the designated place before everyone else, followed by them, and the others arrived shortly after.

“Ouma’s probably messing with us again,” Iruma scoffed, tapping her finger against her arm.

“I agree! What if he didn’t do his roll call on purpose to spook everyone after destroying part of the school!” Chabashira nodded.

“I don’t think Ouma-kun would do anything to risk his own safety,” Saihara murmured. “Not to mention, Kiibo-kun was with him.”

“Correct! Even if Ouma-kun decided not to do roll call, Kiibo-kun still would have done it himself,” Akamatsu’s brows furrowed in concentration. “Was anyone near the crash?”

“I was on the first floor with Shinguuji-kun,” Shirogane raised a hand. “We heard something crash nearby but we didn’t see anyone at all. If Kiibo-kun and Ouma-kun did fall…shouldn’t we be able to find them on this floor?”

“That’s a good point.” Amami rubbed his chin. “How close were you to the crash, exactly?”

“Not very close, but I can pinpoint us to its general direction,” Shinguuji raised a hand.

“Alright. Everybody stay close. We can’t have anyone else getting hurt,” Akamatsu took a deep breath and slapped her cheeks. “No use panicking! Focus, focus!”

“Shouldn’t we call the fire department for help?” Saihara asked.

“But what if they were taken by ghosts? No one would believe our story!” Yumeno interjected.

“Shh! Everyone focus!” Shirogane turned to look at the others. “Now’s not the time to entertain thoughts like that. We need to try looking for them first before calling the fire department.”

“I’m on board for that. We practically broke some rules just entering this shithole,” Iruma flipped her hair.

“We’re here. I’m not sure of the specific source of the sound, but it should be around here,” the anthropologist proceeded to tie his hair in a neat ponytail.

“Okay, let’s split the rooms among ourselves. Got it?” Akamatsu regarded her friends with a look of determination.

“Got it!”

Their search didn’t end up being completely fruitless when Saihara managed to locate a hole in the infirmary’s flooring. But that very same discovery led them to their next problem. If there was a hole on the flooring of the first floor…then where does it lead to exactly? They were met with darkness even after flashing their lights on the hole. Ouma and Kiibo should have landed on the first floor if not any of the floors just above them.

“This is a big problem.” Amami concluded.

————————————————————

“Ouma-kun. Ouma-kun, wake up.”

Ouma hissed in pain as he shifted to his side. “O-oww…what–what happened?”

“The floorboards collapsed from under us and we fell a couple of floors down,” Kiibo replied, helping the supreme leader sit up. “Take it easy, you have a slight head injury and a twisted ankle.”

Ouma instantly raised a hand to touch his head, only to feel his scarf wrapped around his head. “What floor are we on, exactly?”

Kiibo pursed his lips. “…We would be in the equivalent of the basement floor. I reviewed my memories and we already went past the first floor by a couple of levels.”

“The basement level? The map didn’t have anything like that at all,” Ouma withered in pain, resting his weight on the robot.

“That’s what I thought too. This was probably one of the secret rooms Saihara-kun meant,” the albino paused to point at the spot across them. “…Though judging by the look of those rusted iron bars…we’re actually inside an underground dungeon.”

“If it weren’t for the fact that I’m in pain and we’re currently stuck, I would have thought that this was cool,” Ouma groaned. “Tch. There’s no use texting the others, there’s no way there could be reception in a place like this.”

“…I’m sorry, Ouma-kun.” Kiibo looked down.

The supreme leader raised a brow. “For what?”

“If only I had the ability to fly, I could have gotten us out of this mess right away,” the android explained. “I don’t have the strength to carry you out of this room either.”

“You could have just explored the area, searched for the exit and then come back for me afterwards,” Ouma huffed.

Kiibo shook his head. “That’s a risky idea. I don’t want to leave you alone during a crisis like this. What if more of the school gives out? If I left, there’s a big chance that we’d be separated by debris and only one of us could get out.”

“That’s…true. Heh. I guess my head isn’t working as well as I hoped right now,” Ouma chuckled half-heartedly. “I’m…sorry too. I got us into this mess in the first place. I wasn’t being careful earlier, so we fell. We’re more or less even.”

Kiibo was taken aback by the sincere apology, but did not dare to comment on it. They couldn’t exactly afford to bicker during an emergency like this one. It was clear that Ouma was too hurt to put up his usual mischievous demeanor, too.

“I’m glad you were my partner.”

“Huh?” the albino stared at his companion in confusion.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ouma huffed as he slowly sank into a lying down position, resting his head on the robot’s cool lap. “If I had fallen with anybody else in our group, one of us would have already died; or worse, both of us would have just died and rotted together with this school. Look at you. It was a nasty fall, but all you have are scratches. You really are something, huh.” He grinned up at the albino.

Kiibo chewed on his bottom lip, a little embarrassed from the praise. “I don’t mean this in an offensive way, but–”

“Go ahead and say it.”

“Okay.” The albino took a deep breath. “Ouma-kun, did you rig the pairing lots so that I would be paired up with you? You did point out all of the convenient tools and functions I had for your exploration idea…”

Ouma simply chuckled in response. “You probably won’t believe me, but that was all luck. I never really cared about who you get paired up with, I just wanted the ghost pics.”

“I see…I thought just as much,” Kiibo nodded along. “I wonder if…the others are looking for us right now.”

“They are. You’re with me after all. If it were just me alone, they probably would have just left me behind,” Ouma sighed nonchalantly. “Then again if I were alone, I’d already be dead. Nishishi!”

Kiibo frowned. “Even if you were alone, we would still look for you, regardless of whether you’re dead or alive.”

“And what makes you say that, Kiiboy?”

“We’re friends, Ouma-kun. If such an obvious answer wasn’t clear to you, then you probably need to rest as much as you can right now,” the robot’s frown eased after finishing his sentence.

“Heh…I guess I can do that,” the raven-haired Ultimate shifted in his position a little, careful not to aggravate his aching leg as he did so. “I don’t wanna sleep in a shithole like this though, so you and I are going to be talking for quite a while until we get rescued.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Kiibo smiled.

Being stuck in a very deep hole was probably the worst time to start getting to know a person more. But since that person is Ouma, a crazy situation like this is probably the only thing that could get him to talk sincerely. From his love for shounen manga to his hobbies, these were all things Kiibo had hoped to learn from the supreme leader at school and not in some hidden dungeon.

“Kiiboy, can I level with you for a moment?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve been doing for a while now?” Kiibo lifted a brow.

“Just shut up and listen to me,” huffed the other teen.

“Alright, sorry.”

Ouma released a sigh before speaking. “…I honestly think I’m going to die here. But even if I die, surely you won’t. That’s why I want you to record something for me.”

“…You mean a will?” Kiibo’s forehead creased with worry.

“Haha! Not quite,” Ouma shook his head. “Just some things I wished I was able to tell everyone before we both got into this mess. A confession of some sort.”

“Ouma-kun…”

“I want you to show it to everyone in the worst case scenario,” Ouma continued. “But if I ever survive this, whatever I’m going to say is going to be just between you and me. Understand?”

“Y…yes, I understand,” Kiibo nodded, though his worry was still very much present on his face.

“I’ll start now, ready?”

“I’m ready.”

“Then I guess I should start about my parents…”

——————————————————————-

It had already been more or less two hours since Kiibo and Ouma crashed. The firemen struggled with trying to figure out how to pull them out from such a deep and dark pit. The realization that their two classmates had fallen lower than what they had expected brought chills down their spine. It took the firemen another hour to finally be able to rescue the missing Ultimates, much to everyone’s relief.

The EMTs carefully strapped Ouma to a stretcher and ushered him into the ambulance so they could take a better look at his wounds. Everyone then got off with a heavy scolding both from the rescuers and their respective parents for doing something dangerous without even contacting an adult. Though for Kiibo’s case, he was praised right after for his quick thinking during the emergency, otherwise the supreme leader would have been in a critical state.

“I hope you all learned a valuable lesson from this experience,” a fireman huffed.

“Yes, sir…” the teens all responded in unison.

“Let’s go home and get you fixed,” Iidabashi gave his son’s hair a ruffle. “Also cleaned up, you’re terribly dirty.”

Kiibo’s gaze lingered at the ambulance before turning to look at his father. “…Okay.”

The premises of Saishuu Academy was completely locked down the next day in light of the incident during the previous night. Both Kiibo and Ouma were sought after by the Newspaper Club, determined to secure an exclusive interview from them regarding their experience of being trapped. Unfortunately for Ouma, his twisted ankle prohibited him from escaping their pesky advances. And just as unfortunately for Kiibo, he still had the stamina of a senior citizen, but his father did improve his strength in order to assist him in emergencies.

“Ouma-kun, may I speak with you for a moment?”

It took Kiibo about two weeks before he could muster the courage to talk to the raven-haired Ultimate. They had to keep a facade that things were back to normal after all.

“Depends on what you wanna talk about,” Ouma leaned against his chair. “If it’s about that then no. I don’t want to hear anything about that stupid school anymore.”

Kiibo shook his head. “It’s…kind of related, but it’s not about the incident.” He pulled out photos from one of his pockets. “I thought that maybe…you needed to see this.”

Ouma lifted a brow, curious, as he accepted the photos.

The android shifted in his place. He specifically chose to speak to Ouma today since everyone was out eating at the cafeteria and the supreme leader had slipped away from the group not completely unnoticed. It was the only chance where they’ll have some form of privacy during school hours.

“UWAAAH! WHAT THE HECK! THAT’S SO CREEPY!!!” Ouma shuffled out of his seat in a panic, haphazardly throwing the photos on the table.

“…You did say you wanted photos,” Kiibo murmured as he picked the photos up. It was a photo of his memory during the incident; specifically the time right after they landed in the hidden dungeon. For a brief moment, he had caught a glimpse of a woman cradling Ouma–she disappeared as soon as he blinked though. That was why he wasn’t able to record her face in high definition.

“Y-yeah! But not when it involved me!” Ouma pointed an accusatory finger at the photos in the albino’s hand. “Have an exorcist burn it!”

“But Ouma-kun…” Kiibo shuffled through the different photos and picked one out to show the other Ultimate. “I think…it’s your mother.”

Ouma’s eyes visibly widened at the photo. It wasn’t taken inside the dungeon, no, the setting was entirely different. In fact, it was right when Ouma got brought inside the ambulance. A translucent woman stood waiting outside of the ambulance. Thanks to the lighting, her face was properly recorded. Even more so when she was looking right at Kiibo, giving him a wave. 

Jet black hair, soft, lilac eyes…

Her features alone were a dead giveaway that she couldn’t be anyone else but Ouma’s mother. 

Ouma shakingly took the photo from the android, this time staring at it with awe instead of fear. “…It’s really her…”

“Yes. That’s why I thought that you needed to see this,” Kiibo scratched at his cheek nervously. “…Do you really want to have these burned?”

Ouma let slip a sincere smile, “…Maybe not.”

Kiibo perked up, pleased to be able to make him smile.

Bonus:

“I’m only keeping this one. Buuut—!” Ouma snatched the photo of the hidden dungeon and showed it to the android. “You definitely have to show this to Momota-chan!”

Kiibo shook his head, “I don’t see why you need to–”

“Show me what?” both Ultimates turned their heads to face the astronaut.

The android paled at the very sight of the grin that took over the supreme leader’s face.

“Kiibo showed me this really cute photo he took on the way to school! And I thought you’d like it too!” Ouma chimed, slightly limping his way towards the taller Ultimate to hand him the photo.

��Momota-kun, wait–!”

Alas, Kiibo’s words fell on deaf ears.

“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!!!!!”

“Nishishi! So ghosts, am I right~?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, OUMA!!!”

———————

If you’re wondering why I never explained what those memories were…that’s because Ouma survived. Kiibo’s not obligated to show you what it was.

[my-lady-knight]

A while back @veliseraptor asked me to write down those thoughts about Alfie’s weaponization of Judaism I said I had. And although this took foreeever to get around to doing, ask and ye shall receive!

Basically, Alfie never, ever stops reminding gentiles that he’s Jewish, at every possible opportune and inopportune moment. (“SHALOM, ARTHUR!” - it’s the most ridiculous thing ever as to be cringeworthy, but it is also pure Alfie vamping and behaving that way on purpose to piss Arthur off.) Unlike the other ethnic factions in Peaky Blinders, Alfie makes no qualms about using his Jewishness and people’s responses to as a part of business and negotiation. When he and Sabini negotiate in season 2 and Sabini asks him why the fuck he made an alliance with the Peaky Blinders, Alfie’s response is that, well, you keep insulting me for being Jewish and making jokes, so, uh, yeah, fuck you. It’s clearly not the only reason Alfie makes an alliance with Tommy, and it’s also not the only reason he has a bone to pick with Sabini, but he also has no problem of using it as a reason.

(Compare this to Tommy, who doesn’t ever really bring up that he’s Romani of his own volition. Any reference he makes is typically a biting one in which he calls out the stereotypes people have about him and can’t hide, or bother to hide, when they interact with him. (“But I also sell pegs and tell fortunes.”))

I should note that Alfie has zero problems calling other characters ethnic slurs - he’s not a paragon of tolerance or anti-bigotry, but IMO he also figures if he’s going to make his Jewishness a loud part of his gangster persona, that includes being loud about the insults and slurs leveled at him.

Basically, in making his Jewishness an extremely visual, unavoidable part and parcel of his gangster persona and personality, Alfie utilizes it both as a weapon against his opponents and as armor so that no one can use it as a weapon against him, just as Tyrion Lannister does with his size. 

A few moments that stand out for me:

In season 2 during that infamous sedar scene when he betrays Arthur and kills Billy Kitchen, Alfie uses the occasion itself as a distraction, and the korban Pesach to highlight that this is all a performance, a show being put on for Arthur and Billy, except they’re not the audience; this is a con, and they’re the marks. Alfie’s weaponized performance of Jewish ritual is an elaborate smokescreen that doesn’t even pretend to hide the fact that it’s a smokescreen - the korban Pesach, being a ritual animal sacrifice, isn’t something Jews have practiced since the days of the Second Temple (since the Temple was where sacrifices were performed, and no more temple = no more sacrifices and the subsequent development of rabbinic Judaism). Basically there is no real reason for Alfie to drag up this effectively obsolete tradition into existence at his seder, apart from that unexpected animal sacrifice is apropos to the real reason behind the Seder, appeals to Alfie’s inner diva, and is sufficiently odd and Othering enough to keep Arthur and Billy off their guard until it’s too late.

In season 3, in the scene in the treasury, there is no disguising either Alfie’s hatred of the deposed Russian royalty standing in front of him or the “fuck you” manner in which he goes about selecting the items from the treasury to the point of stripping the jewels from the elderly duchess’s neck. He doesn’t so much as weaponize his Judaism here as take supreme advantage of being in a position of power to throw into their faces that Alfie, the son of a Russian Jewish woman who they hunted with dogs in the snow, is the arbiter of value of what they have on hand, and they’re at his mercy - no fucking wonder he calls the duke “Rumpelstiltskin”, he’s never gonna get another opportunity like that ever again. (My read is that’s also part of the reason he makes sure to get a Faberge egg out of them.)

And finally in season 4, when Luca’s negotiating with Alfie about smuggling some of his men into the boxing match disguised as Alfie’s, Alfie asks him with the straightest face possible, “And you will have them circumcised?” A requirement he follows up with “Because the Peakys, they will check.” Which yeah, reasonable to assume that Tommy and Arthur, besieged on all sides by the Mafia and making themselves incredibly exposed by holding the boxing match, would strip-search the men accompanying Goliath to fight, since that’s an especially vulnerable point of entry. And given that those men would by all rights be Jewish, and Tommy’s probably not completely ignorant on the matter, it would look suspicious if the men weren’t circumcised and they’d immediately be suspected as Italian plants. It’s also though another one of Alfie’s “fuck you” gestures of animosity towards the Italians,

BUT it’s also not just that - the entire thing has echoes of the story of Dina in Bereishit. (“It was fuckin’ biblical, mate”). After a prince rapes Dina and his father asks her father Jacob for her hand in marriage, he and her brothers require that the prince and all their men be circumcised beforehand. A few days afterward, when all the men are incapacitated, Simon and Levi kill all the men, including the prince and his father. The parallel doesn’t fully line up - Luca’s men fool Tommy and Arthur during the strip-search - but they still stand out as suspicious to Arthur, who repeatedly insists “They don’t know fighters” and follows and unmasks them for the rest of the family to kill. 

(FTR I don’t think this was intentional at all on Steven Knight’s part, but now that I’ve made the connection I can’t unsee it.)

In conclusion, Alfie as a Jewish character (albeit one created and written by a gentile) is fascinating to me and I love him.

[gunmaestro]

My Problems with Bungou Stray Dogs.

I want to preface this by saying that Bungou Stray Dogs is my favorite animanga. I’m not trying to tell Asagiri how to write the story and I’m not saying these things make it a bad concept--I just wanted to share my criticisms about the show and manga. These things absolutely don’t ruin it for me, and most of them are about the anime only anyway. Note that this list will NOT include the Tanizaki siblings although I do have a problem with their relationship because I’m focusing mostly on storytelling and character analysis. But without further ado, I’ll get into my first criticism. This one, my biggest problem with the series, will be above the cut, but the rest will be under it for length.

Dazai Osamu.

Given that Dazai as an author is a very significant presence in Japan, it’s understandable that he would play a large role in a series based largely upon Japanese authors. The fact that he has a large role is not the reason I dislike him--in fact, he’s been getting a lot less screentime in the manga recently. The reason I view Dazai as a problem with Bungou Stray Dogs is because of his mental prowess which borders on omnipotence.

It shouldn’t come to a surprise that Dazai would play a role in every major arc, given that he’s a main character and all. However, it’s very frustrating and almost boring to have arc after arc resolved because of Dazai. It’s even more frustrating when it’s implied that everything our protagonists do has already been specifically calculated by Dazai, as if their actions are not their own. Having an overpowered character like him makes the narrative seem boring.

At the time of this being written, the manga is in the middle of its arc with the Hunting Dogs and the Decay of Angels. I’m not sure if this is just me, but because of the characters (Ango, Atsushi, Dazai himself) admitting that Dazai had planned for certain events all along, I feel almost no stakes for the arc as a whole. It’s very hard to feel suspense whilst getting constant reminders that everything bad happening is all according to Dazai’s plan. I won’t even bother going into the dick measuring contest between him and Fyodor, either, because I’m sure we all know how that sort of thing can get annoying very quickly in stories.

Dazai being the super genius he is also weakens other characters around him. A striking example of this is Edogawa Ranpo, a character whom I have no problems with at all, speaking in terms of characterization. Ranpo’s entire character hinges on the fact that he is a brilliant detective and the smartest person in the agency--and to people like gifted kids, he’s a very relatable character. It greatly diminishes the quality of Ranpo’s character to introduce the idea that there are characters who know more than him; though Dazai has admitted to not being as smart as Ranpo, the narrative does not reflect this statement. Ranpo as a character works because there is grounds to his bragging--take away his status as the smartest in the series and he becomes nothing.

Similarly, Dazai negatively impacts the characters of Atsushi and Akutagawa. They’re two very interesting characters, but part of the reason they seem to fall flat to me is that they only ever act together when forced into it by Dazai. In fact, it feels like every single character on the side of good in this story would be helpless without Dazai there to guide them--and that makes them far less impactful characters.

Unresolved Plotlines and Bad Math.

Maybe I’m being nitpicky, and I didn’t mind this at first, but there are a lot of cliffhangers and inconsistencies throughout the story. Examples of the latter are easy to come by--Kunikida was initially stated to be a math teacher before joining the ADA, despite being only 22 at the present time in canon. Fitzgerald’s daughter would have been at most 14 at present assuming she was born when Fitzgerald was 18, which is hardly old enough for her to be sent to a boarding school in ANOTHER COUNTRY. These are small, but they somewhat decrease the quality of the story when questioned.

The unresolved plotlines and cliffhangers have a much bigger impact on the story during a time where it is still being released one chapter a month. John Steinbeck’s return has not yet come after two full arcs, despite it being teased by his appearance during Fitzgerald’s return. Going back further, we’ve seen astonishingly little of Agatha Christie--even though she was introduced around the same time as Fyodor.

In smaller cases, there’s the fact that we didn’t get to see what happened with Yosano, we don’t know where Akutagawa is at this point in the narrative, and we weren’t told what happened with the truck containing Margaret. These are small things that won’t be as annoying to read back on once they’re resolved, but having a story set up where everything is left open after every chapter is very disengaging for readers who just want to know what’s going on.

The Anime.

I know what I said at the beginning. The truth is, though, that there’s so much about the anime adaptation that bothers me that I have to summarize it by just saying the anime as a whole bothers me. I’m also aware that it’s very uncommon for mangas to get a perfect, spot-on anime adaptation.. but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a problem with it.

Here’s a speedround of things I don’t enjoy about the anime.

The art style. I’m sure we’re all very tired of the fish-eye lenses, and the weird smiles they’ve incorporated from Dead Apple. This being said, there are times when it looks good, but that doesn’t help the fact that I actually physically cringe whenever there’s a character who’s afraid or overly cocky making a facial expression that reflects this emotion.

The focus on certain characters (Dazai). I’m among the group of people that wanted untold stories to be animated this season instead of Fifteen, because it would have fit better with the plot of the season. The fact that the anime chose Fifteen was a good decision for drawing more attention to the show, since the fans of Chuuya and Dazai are in the majority, but it fits very poorly with the rest of the season. In fact, sorry for the spoiler, but Dazai and Chuuya aren’t even shown interacting in the main season, whereas Fukuzawa plays a major role in the cannibalism arc and Ranpo was visibly shown to have an important connection with him.

The tone. There’s not much to say, here. The anime takes everything very seriously, and one of my favorite parts of the manga are its humorous lines.

The humor. Speaking of humorous lines, they’re always said in a very obnovious way in the anime that makes it seem like they’re trying too hard. This is an opinion rather than an analysis.

The left-out details. Though the conversation between Fyodor and Agatha was not very important to the plot and nor was Steinbeck’s removed appearance in season 3, they both served as teasers for future arcs, and removing them shouldn’t have been completely necessary. 

The changes to characters. The Guild is a particular victim of this particular point. Whereas the characters in this organization don’t come off as a completely serious group of people in the manga, they sure do in the anime. Logically, I can understand why this would be done--they’re the arc’s antagonists, and they’re more intimidating if they aren’t funny. But it completely changes some of their characters if you remove certain aspects of their personality.

The Fandom.

It goes without saying that no fandom is perfect, and a lot of them aren’t even good. The Bungou Stray Dogs fandom comprises mostly of s/skk fans, which is unsurprising, but what makes me compelled to put the fandom on a list of my problems with the show itself is how much they completely warp the characters of Dazai and Chuuya.

I know I have a whole section explaining why I think Dazai is a major flaw of the series, but despite that I actually do find his character interesting, if a bit annoying with how big his presence is. I dislike the fandom’s interpretation of him, specifically the way he interacts with Chuuya. Did he not blow up Chuuya’s car? Did he not let Chuuya suffer for a few more seconds just because he thought it was funny? Did he not make Chuuya embarrass himself for no reason other than his own enjoyment? It’s very disheartening to see him portrayed as someone who would never betray Chuuya’s trust and who is completely devoted to Chuuya.

Speaking of Chuuya, he’s probably the fandom’s biggest offense in terms of making a character unlikable. In my particular case, the way the fandom treats him has driven me away from his character, which I actually do like. Because of how often I’ve seen the fandom treat him like nothing more than a blushing tsundere whose feelings for Dazai are soooo obvious, I’m impacted by these interpretations when I read the manga.

To Conclude + A List of Things I Don’t Mind

No, I don’t think the series is bad and I don’t think these listed things make it bad, but I’d be lying if I said they didn’t bother me. But since I’ve been nothing but negative, here’s a few things that bother most people but don’t bother me at all.

Mori Ougai. I don’t condone his behavior or “preferences”, but I do not believe he is a problem for the show. He is not supposed to be a good character and, as we see with his behavior towards Yosano, his actions are not portrayed as good. There is nothing wrong with the villain of a series being a p*dophile as long as it is not treated as something positive, which it is not.

Tachihara + The Hunting Dogs. This is a spoiler for the more recent chapters of the manga, but despite the lack of foreshadowing I am not bothered by Tachihara’s reveal as the fifth hunting dog. I also don’t care that the dogs are hunting the agency, because it makes sense, story-wise. The agency are technically international terrorists because of what was written in the book.

Lucy and her supposed crush. Romance is not the focus of the show and, likewise, Lucy’s “crush” on Atsushi is not put at the forefront of the plot. However, I have seen fans get annoyed by the fact that she seems to like him.

I’d like to thank everyone who read this for taking the time to do so. I’m not the most coherent with my thoughts and I’m bad at putting said thoughts into words, but I hope you liked the things I had to say.

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Ouroboros

Ouroboros is a fitting title for this episode.  Not because it has a snake-creature.  Not because of the symbolism of unity or the cycle of life and death.  No, in the sense that it's such a clear, contained example of how Dabbernatural is eating itself to death through the writers' absolute incompetence at telling a compelling, coherent story.  Or perhaps it’s in the sense of being a never-ending circle of making the same exact mistake over again: Supernatural is the Winchesters' story; making them incompetent fools to highlight your nonentity OCs is always going to read badly to a large portion of your audience.

It starts out okay.  The previously seems really overlong here and I do have to wonder if they think our memories of what’s previously happened are as shit as theirs.  The episode itself, however, begins well enough with a mysterious cold open involving a MotW who has really creepy new powers.  Okay, cool!  

Except instead of actually being hunted by Sam and Dean, literally everybody is along on this fucking hunt. Remember when Sam and Dean were allowed to be competent enough to track and kill a MotW themselves, because the writers knew they were meant to be clever, resourceful, and good at their job?  Best hunters in the world?  LOL. 

Now not only do they have to drag Castiel and Jack along, fucking Rowena has joined the Hunters R Us club.  Like, I love Rowena, but COME ON.  Which doesn't even address how later in the episode, Sam can't even do his own fucking research – they call it out to fucking Maggie!  Then Sam & Dean and Jack & Cas ALL get their asses absolutely handed to them … by some random one off MotW that we're not told any reason to expect has major fighting skills.  Unlike all the things they've beaten which literally did.  COME THE FUCK ON. 

What do the Winchesters actually get to accomplish in this episode of their own goddamn show other than exist onscreen to con us into watching the Dabbernatural Gary Stu drama hour? 

Blah blah blah, interlude of characters reminding us about Dean having Michael in his head interspersed with oh no, poor sad beige woobie still has magic consumption.  [Insert totes concerned hand-wringing here, or don't, because LOL, so over it.]  The most charitable thing I can say about it is that presumably Dean talks to Castiel about the box plan again here because Castiel will actually go through with it, unlike Sam. 

Also, I'm not a vet or any kind of medical professional, but when they needed to get some antivenom, my immediate thought was, “Wait, what kind?”  I figured maybe I was wrong because surely the writers would do the bare minimum of research, but apparently not, as Wikipedia does seem to corroborate that “the specific antivenom needed depends on the species involved”.  Pretty sure that their local vet's office doesn't have Gorgon antivenom.  Even if Rowena’s magic is involved, if she can just make it magically the right thing, why on Earth would they actually even need any kind of antivenom in the first place?  Or not at least talk about getting a specific kind so it doesn’t look like they’ve got no idea what they’re on about?  As such, I can’t see this as anything but the writers yet again not bothering to put in the basic minimum of care to explain how this thing that obviously shouldn't work will now work for reasons.

I did genuinely like Sam and Rowena's playacting in the vet office, that was great!  Even Jack getting turned into a dog to lift the non-magical magical cure-all antivenom was fun. As well as Rowena chiding Sam about how what they're doing with Jack is doing exactly what she would – as she was until recently a villain. (Although again, putting aside why, if Rowena is their fucking hunting buddy buddy now, why exactly they aren't telling her what's up with Jack.  Seriously, why?)  Unsurprising that what I think actually works briefly in this episode is the character interactions powered by the skill and charisma of the actors, not anything the writers are doing.

Which brings us back to what Dabb didn't learn from Wayward: making the Winchesters (and Cas) entirely incompetent and helpless to facilitate ludicrously endowed super!kids like Jack stealing the show is insulting enough when it happens with the Gorgon, but it is straight out infuriating as the end of the whole AU!Michael arc.  Seriously, I do not get this fetish of his.

Before getting more into that, as an aside, does it matter if Cas can breathe?  I don't mean that in a “Die, Cas, die!” way, either.  I mean, he's literally an angel in a human suit, even if he's paralyzed by the thing's venom (which I'll accept that the creature can't see him but its venom still works on him because the body is more or less human {sort of, considering it's been turned into a specially constructed vessel made to break all the angel rules for reasons [to not have a supposed good guy holding a human soul permanently hostage and that whole dumb special-vessels-lol-what Lucifer interlude]}) does it really matter? Especially in that moment?  Like, if he's angel enough that the monster can't see him, he should be angel enough that mundane damage to a vessel should be nothing more than an inconvenience.  Castiel is exactly as human or angels as the writers need in at any given second. 

Speaking of which - Jack freaking out over it is another instance where he's dumb as an infant or competent as a trained adult from second-to-fucking-second to facilitate what passes for a plot, because Dabb & Co. apparently got bored and decided they'd rather go back to another round of What's Wrong With Jack, You Should Totally Care! rather than actually write a coherent story around AU!Michael.  This infant/adult thing comes up again during the conversation with Cas about humans ultimately dying where Jack suddenly doesn't get death.  Even though we had that whole. long. thing. about Jack wanting to know about his mother and talking to that therapist and her parents about her and seeing her in heaven?  Yet now we're back to LOL what is death??  Maybe angels or part angels are literally incapable of learning anything.  It would explain a lot about both Jack and Cas in recent years. 

Also, I take back the points I mentally rewarded at the beginning of the episode for actually involving a new monster taken from mythology.  It was at this point when we see that Jack kept the snake that I recalled spoilers about what happens to it and I became suspicious that literally the only reason they went to the trouble was to give Jack a pet that wasn’t cuddly enough that the audience would turn on him if he does something to it.  I don’t mind planning ahead, but when the monster hunt was such a manufactured clusterfuck of stupid and the ultimate purpose of it seems this transparent?  Sigh.

Oh noes, what if Dean doesn't wake up!? Well, for one thing, he'd be spared continuing to exist in this shitty parody of the SPN universe, so, I'm kinda thinking that might actually be a win...

Speaking of the writers just railroading the characters in random directions to get wherever they want to go regardless?  Cas's ability to heal is useless again, because of course it is.  Somehow a physical head wound is complicated by archangel possession, because sure, why the fuck not? Remember when angel powers weren't a fucking joke, as useful as a knife without the blade?  Honestly, I might even accept that another angel was unable to do anything to a human who was playing vessel to a different angel if this wasn’t just one more in a string of so. fucking. many. instances of angel powers transparently and ludicrously existing or not exactly where the “plot” decrees they do.

Likewise, Rowena, the totally most powerful witch ever?  Shrug, she can do nothing.  Except, it turns out, get handed an idiot ball to make this railroading keep going on the same dumb track.  Welcome to the club, Rowena, enjoy being half as competent as ever you were (or less!) now that you're an ally.  Again, vessel rules?  What vessel rules?  Any old archangel can just pop into any old person they want to, don'tchaknow?  Not to mention how goddamn fucking stupid Rowena would have to be to let Michael in so he “doesn't harm anyone in the bunker”.  Are you fucking kidding me?  The only thing letting him possess her is going to do is give him immediate faster access inside the bunker without any chance to prepare for his attempting to kill all the people he definitely intends to kill.  Not to mention that they turned Rowena from completely self-involved to brainlessly selfless in this episode, suddenly, because because as if nothing exists in-between.  This literally happens because the show decided it was bored and uninterested in Michael after half-heartedly playing with the character for half a season so it chopped everyone's brains out, including their own, to make him go away.  I just cannot see any other explanation for Rowena both being that dead stupid and conveniently being able to house Michael. 

The only worthwhile thing in this episode is the good riddance to bad rubbish of all the AU!hunters in the bunker finally getting wiped out.  That the show actually expects me to be in any way upset by a bunch of people who don't even fucking have names and just keep milling around in the background taking up space biting it?  Aside, from, of course, another Dabbernatural-style cardboard sue like Maggie who went from not even knowing how to hold a weapon to being the goddamn leader in a handful of episodes?  Presumably because the Winchesters are?  Yeah, no.

Even though when he actually had his powers it wasn't a foregone conclusion that Jack could effectively take on Michael?  Now that Jack doesn't have his powers, suddenly he can burn up his soul and just completely overpower Michael with the total McGuffiness of his existence for reasons.  If doing that is so powerful, and we’re stuck with this retcon about divisible souls, why can’t any old angel just burn out their vessel’s soul to get super-powered magic?  If the powers that any individual or item has have no logical consistency, and every new idea that pops into what passes for the writer’s brains is introduced as TEH MOST POWERFUL EVAH?  No conflict over supernatural powers in this show can have any legitimate narrative weight.  If the audience can’t adequately gauge the threat, it all becomes a muddle of random events that happen rather than a coherent story we can actually invest in caring about.

Look, I’m not saying that no Supernatural plot before the current era was resolved by McGuffins or random powers.  The issue here is the general issue with their use in Dabb’s era.  Jack doesn't have to work for it.  He doesn't have to figure out some complicated way to boost his powers to make it work against the most powerful archangel.   There’s no buildup for us to invest in.   There’s no sense of the characters actually working at an obstacle and earning a victory.  He's just suddenly handed this level of power to make it happen right now, at this arbitrary moment, because the show decided it was done with this arc now and could not be fucking bothered.  It makes no sense with anything we’ve been shown about the characters' powers, it makes no sense for the story actually feeling like the characters are meaningfully accomplishing anything by their legitimate merits.  It sure as fuck makes no sense for the lore.  That whole thing with Billy's books they've been harping on and on about as TEH ONLY WAY?  Which Rowena even calls back to this episode?  Nah, nevermind, tossed out the fucking window without even a goddamn handwave.  

Seriously, the Michael arc is not resolved here because the Winchesters outsmarted destiny again, or that they found some way to cleverly subvert it.  It’s not even that they worked to find a solution and finally the work paid off by them coming across something suspiciously perfect.  It’s that they waffled around for several episodes being dramatic and making literally no progress until Dabb & Co. arbitrarily and literally handed the power to end the arc to their pet joke fake!Winchester “son” because they did not care.  And yet they expect us in the audience to continue to care, even though I can not think of any other development in any other professional media I have ever consumed that was as unsatisfying and honestly infuriating as this pile of haphazard bullshit.

[storytime-hoe]

Tough Love Ch.10

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x O/C

Summary: Story picks up during season three as the group goes into Woodbury to rescue Glenn and Maggie from the Governor. However, they pick up another prisoner of Woodbury, Emma (O/C). She is a thief who fears friendships after her hard losses. She stays on the move, studying communities from afar and then robbing them blind. She has stayed alive this way for a while until the Governor catches her in the act. Now she finds herself with the group from the prison in a mission to kill the Governor for what he has done to her. She plans on stealing supplies from the prison group after the Governor is killed, but she might be growing a little too close to the groups members, especially one man in particular: Daryl Dixon.

Warnings: Slow burn, language, usual twd violence, mentions of abuse/rape

Authors Note: Okay so heres the sitch. This chapter is going to be really short. I am sorry for that. BUT. Here’s the thing, I just want to get something out here for you guys cause it has been too long. Again... sorry. 

I will be posting more frequently now that I’m getting some stuff finished off. So for now you’ll have to suffer with a short chapter with a cute little Beth moment. 

I wrote it rather quickly and my mind is a jumble sometimes so things that make sense to me might not make sense in the story so like again so sorry but oh well about that one. 

Previously: Ch.1   Ch.2       Ch.3       Ch.4     Ch.5      Ch.6     Ch.7       Ch.8       Ch.9

I've never felt more useless in my entire life.

Everywhere I went to try and help out around the place, I was turned down. "You need to rest up." "Get off of that leg." It was all the same damn excuse. My leg was holding me back and it got on my nerves real fucking fast.

"I am so sick of people looking at me like I'm incapable of doing anything at all!" I complained rather loudly to Beth from my bed.

Beth had come by for the past few days with Judith to keep me company. At first I was wary that she might just be being nice to me because she wanted something from me, but slowly I was warming up to her after I came to the conclusion that she meant no harm. I think maybe she was getting a little lonely too, seeing how she was cramped up in the prison all day as well.

"I can't be kept in this room all my life. I should be out there looking for the Governor."

Beth sat on the edge of the bed, rocking Judith lightly, not looking at all bothered by my sour mood. "Michonne and Daryl are out every day looking. Besides, it's just until you can run on your leg. What would happen if you came up on a hoard and couldn't get away? It's not forever, you're just being dramatic. The bullet was pretty deep, so it makes sense that it's still in bad shape."

"Fuck my leg," I pouted next to her, leaning back against the cool cement wall and crossing my arms over my chest. "Fuck Rick too. He's the reason no one will let me do fucking anything around here. He went around telling everybody that I needed to take it easy. Now they look at me like I'm a fucking three-legged puppy and tell me that it would be best if I go lie down."

I was staring out in front of me as I seethed about the situation, waiting for Beth to have a counter point and defend Rick by saying how everyone wanted me to recover fast and they were doing this for my own good and all that bullshit. But she never did. I sat up curiously and looked around at her sly grin as she patted on Judith's back. I scanned her knowing smile carefully. She was keeping something from me. She knew something that I didn't, but what the actual fuck could it be that made her smile all smug like that.

"What is it?" I demanded, bringing my legs up into the bed with me, unable to contain my absolute need to understand what was on her mind. "What do you know?"

Her eyes had a mischievous glint to them as she flicked her gaze over to me. "Wasn't Rick," was all she whispered with a slight shake of her head.

I furrowed my brow, craving more information. "Beth, what the fuck are you on about?"

"You shouldn't use that language around the baby," she said in an attempt to quickly change the subject.

I rolled my eyes and shook her arm lightly. "Beth. Come on."

She still had that soft grin on. The one that I was fighting not to hate right now. "Daryl told everyone not to let you do anything. Everyone here basically worships him too, so they listen without question when they get an order from him."

I blinked at her twice, not trusting what I had just heard. Daryl was the reason people were treating me like a child? He was the reason I was going crazy inside these cement walls. It was not his damn place to control what I did. I was so furious at him that I hadn't realized the death grip I had on Beth until she squirmed away from me. I quickly apologized and stood up, ready to wait for Daryl to return from his Governor hunting so I could give him an ear full.

I was so overwhelmingly furious that Daryl was the one to betray me like this. He knew damn well that I was itching to get back out there and he was torturing me in his own sick little way. Fuck him. All good thoughts I had had about him flew from my mind in an instant. I didn't care that he was there to comfort me on the night of my panic attack. I didn't care about how good I felt when I was with him sometimes, like when I woke up strewn across him. The only thing I could think of was that he had done this to me as a way to drag at me. He saw me at my weak points, and he was making sure everyone else was seeing it too. That arrogant little fuck.

"I'm gonna kill that son of a–"

"Emma, stop." Beth was off the bed right after me. She grabbed my wrist and pulled me away from the door before I could march out and make an even bigger fool of myself than Daryl already had. "Don't you think it's... I don't know... sort of sweet?"

"Sweet?!" I exploded. Beth had lost her damn mind. The only time he ever did anything close to sweet for me was the panic attack incident. Even then he didn't want to stay with me, he had wanted to get Maggie and be rid of the situation. I only made him stay because I couldn't stand for more people to know how weak I was being then, and he only stayed because he owed me for being his shoulder to cry on when Merle died. Beth didn't understand that his way of thinking was not something to call sweet when it came to me. I was still set on the conclusion that he was punishing me.

Beth giggle and guided me to sit back down. "He cares about you, Em. Come on, don't be dense. Everyone sees the way he looks at you."

I blinked at her stupidly, my anger sizzling down. "And how's that?" I said with a snarl.

She was looking down, her eyes glistening with a strange wonder. "No one knows a lot about him or his past, but he had a shit home life, that's no secret. And when he looks at you, it's like he's found what's been missing, like he has finally found someone that feels like home."

I swallowed thickly. We all knew he had had a shit life before the world ended. He was practically raised by Merle who would drag him into all kinds of messed up shit. So, it made sense that he was searching for someone he felt was solid in his life. But there was no way in hell that person was me. Did I even want it to be me? No, it couldn't be me.

"It's not true, Beth." I didn't sound as convincing as I would have liked. "Look at me. I'm not the type of person that guys care about like that. I don't even look nice. He's not interested in a piece of shit like me."

She met my eyes with a mesmerizing look. "I didn't say he liked you because you looked nice. Emma, you are art. Art isn't supposed to look nice. It's supposed to make you feel something."

I wanted to deny it until I was blue in the face, but the more she talked the more I thought it could be true. We may fight like cats and dogs, but he has told me before he'd protect me always. He was talking about from the Governor, but maybe that's what he was doing now. He was protecting me from getting myself hurt more or worse. After years of protecting other people, I wasn't used to being on the other side of things.

As much as I wanted to whoop his ass right now for sentencing me to do nothing at all, I couldn't bring myself to do it. After all those years of fighting, I, for once, was being fought for. And it made me feel those annoying little tingles of excitement and it also scared the shit out of me at the same time.

What was I even supposed to do with this new information? It wasn't like I was going to jump into his arms and we would ride off into the sunset. The only reason we were drawn to each other was because we were both recently broken apart; people who go through deep shit tend to migrate towards each other. We might look out for one another and always have each others backs, but it was just a friendship– a strong bond. There was nothing I was going to do to change that and Daryl sure as hell wasn't going to be making any kind of move either. Because even if Beth claimed he looked at me like every girl wants to be looked at, that was just her fantasizing about it in her optimistic rainbow loving mind.

And that was that.

***

Taglist:

@daryldixonandfrogs @jodiereedus22 @xchrisxevansx

[mittensmorgul]

Read your rewatch for early 8, and it reminded me about a question during my own watching. Why did Dean/the show condemn Sam for not looking for Dean in Purgatory? It just annoys me because Dean essentially did the same thing: he thought Cas was dead, and didn't go back to Purgatory to look for him. It's not like Sam had any idea that Dean was in Purgatory. It just seems like both Sam and Dean did the 'trying to move on after person seemingly died' thing but only Sam got called out for it.

Eh... I mean... it’s going back much further than that. Early s6, to be exact, when Sam forced Dean to promise him that he’d go live that apple pie life with Lisa, AND that he wouldn’t try to get him out of the cage from 5.22.

SAM: So you got to promise me something.DEAN: Okay. Yeah. Anything.SAM: You got to promise not to try to bring me back.DEAN: What? No, I didn't sign up for that.SAM: Dean --DEAN: Your Hell is gonna make my tour look like Graceland. You want me just to sit by and do nothing?SAM: Once the Cage is shut, you can't go poking at it, Dean. It's too risky.DEAN: No, no, no, no, no. As if I'm just gonna let you rot in there.SAM: Yeah, you are. You don't have a choice.DEAN: You can't ask me to do this.SAM: I'm sorry, Dean. You have to.DEAN: So then what am I supposed to do?SAM: You go find Lisa. You pray to god she's dumb enough to take you in, and you – you have barbecues and go to football games. You go live some normal, apple-pie life, Dean. Promise me. 

Worst. Promise. Ever. Because Dean DID live up to half of it, but of course he never stopped searching for a way to free Sam. He couldn’t live with the notion that Sam would be trapped in Hell, in the cage with Michael and Lucifer, enduring eternal torment for saving the world. That was a really horrific concept to Dean.

Specifically, Dean knew exactly where Sam was, knew there had to be a way to free him from it, and spent a YEAR trying to find it. Meanwhile, Sam’s body had been out walking around soulless for year and never bothered to even give Dean a howdedoo, while Dean endured a year of torment believing Sam was still trapped there (and honestly, he WAS still trapped there, at least his soul was, and Dean did everything in his power to save THAT too...)

Granted, I think the bigger condemnation of Sam in s8 wasn’t that he never fought to bring Dean back from Purgatgory (because honestly he had no idea that’s where Dean was, or that there was any way to actually rescue him there, after s6 spent the entire season documenting why it was so freaking difficult to even FIND Purgatory, let alone GET there), but that he abandoned his entire life and ran off and pretended it never existed at all.

He abandoned Kevin Tran into Crowley’s hands and never bothered to even search for HIM. He never bothered to investigate a single horror he read about while keeping up on the news of the weird, just assuming someone else would handle it. But there was no one to help Kevin. And really, even if Sam thought Dean may have been dragged to Purgatory by Dick, he never even tried to investigate if that could be true.

Now, I’m assuming you’re attempting to indict Dean for being a hypocrite here, so I will attempt to be very, very clear. Remember what Cas said to Dean when he comes back, in 8.07? A HUGE part of early s8 was Dean’s denial and burying the true memory of what happened in Purgatory. The entire reason he never acted on it was because he DID know the truth about why Cas stayed behind. And it HURT:

CASTIEL: Hey, everything isn't your responsibility. Getting me out of Purgatory wasn't your responsibility.DEAN: You didn't get out. So whose fault was it?CASTIEL: It's not about fault. It's about will. Dean, do you really not remember?DEAN: [laughs shortly] I lived it, Cas. Okay, I know what happened.CASTIEL: No. No, you think you know. You remembered it the way you needed to.DEAN: Look, I don't need to feel like hell for failing you, okay? For failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing that I care about! I don't need it!CASTIEL: Dean. Just look at it. Really look at it. [He touches DEAN on the forehead.]

Dean knew the truth all along, that Cas pushed himself away, that he didn’t want to come back. And deep down, Dean had internalized this as explicit rejection of DEAN by Cas. He knew there was no point to going back to “save” Cas because he literally did not want to be saved.

CASTIEL: See, it wasn't that I was weak. I was stronger than you. I pulled away. Nothing you could have done would have saved me, because I didn't want to be saved.DEAN: What the hell are you talking about?CASTIEL: It's where I belonged. I needed to do penance. After the things I did on earth and in heaven, I didn't deserve to be out. And I saw that clearly when I was there. I... I planned to stay all along. I just didn't know how to tell you. You can't save everyone, my friend... though, you try.

And somewhere deep down, Dean knew this. He even said as much to Sam in 8.01 while explicitly refusing to talk about the situation:

DEAN: Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go.

He may not have gotten an explanation from Cas until he came back, but he knew...

He also knew that the only way OUT of Purgatory was a one-way door that Purgatory manifested because of his unwanted presence...

DEAN: I guess whoever built that box didn't want me in there any more than I did.

A portal that Benny told him about that only a human could pass through? Which sealed itself up the moment Dean stepped through it? Yeah, how do we open that one again? How do we force it open to get BACK into Purgatory? Well, that’s something they never even knew was possible at all. Or else s6 starts to look a bit more stupid than it actually was, you know?

So as he fought his way to the portal (which we will see in 8.07), we saw Cas shove Dean through and refuse to even TRY to leave, after hinting for who knows how long that the portal might not even work for him, and implying that he had no intention of leaving anyway (which Dean refused to even listen to, because of COURSE he would manage to save Cas, too...).

THAT is difference here. It’s not just this “you didn’t even try to rescue me from Purgatory,” which Dean himself knows is an impossible task, it’s all the other stuff... the fact that Sam would just... abandon EVERYTHING, give up hunting, go off and live a normal life without looking back.

And the whole “Sam hit a dog” was just one long metaphor for all of this. So was, “you never looked for me when I was in Purgatory.” Because we all know Sam DID look for Dean once, when he was in Hell. He bargained with crossroads demons, worked with Ruby, had Bobby researching ways to save Dean... but when left to his own devices, he tended to have two speeds: SAVE AT ALL COST WHILE ALSO SEEKING REVENGE AT ALL COST (ie the version of Sam we see in the latter half of 3.11 which is TERRIFYING ffs, as Gabriel called him “Travis Bickle in a skirt” which is super not flattering... but eerily true), or else BLANK SLATE GO WHERE NOBODY KNOWS ME AND PRETEND TO BE NORMAL AT ALL COST. Which is what he did at Stanford, and what he did after 7.23.

He was all or nothing, and this go-around, he chose nothing. There was no balance. Dean didn’t have balance either. Neither did Cas. It was all or nothing for all of them. Cas also chose “nothing.” And Dean, no matter how awful he felt about it after leaving Purgatory, deep down he understood that.

I think what actually upset Dean the most is that Sam was literally the only person on Earth who knew Kevin Tran’s fate, and he did NOTHING to try to save him. But in the shorthand of the narrative, Sam’s abandonment of his entire life when he knew that was never what Dean would’ve wanted (after getting his soul back he was upset with Dean for his perception that Dean never tried to get out of the life, never tried to go to Lisa and make that work, until he truly understood just how horrific Dean’s entire experience that year had been... and I think this makes it doubly hurtful to Dean that Sam could just happily walk away in a way that he himself never could... it highlighted this MAJOR difference between them that was more something they had to come to an understanding over rather than attempting to prove to the other that they felt the same, you know? Which has largely been their character arcs since that point so.... context matters in the ongoing narrative, and the narrative has repeatedly condemned Sam’s abandonment here while portraying Dean’’s more as mourning for someone he believes is truly lost to him and entirely out of reach by his own choice).