#it was like. hey sexy when will you finish grieving or something like that

[hunysckle]

shan't be reblogging a certain post bc it makes me too sad but i will share my thoughts in the tags here. tw for medical events (strokes) and mentions of death

[praphit]

WandaVision: When you can’t let go of that robo-lovin.

So, I just finished watching "WandaVision", and I must say, right off the bat 

- I LOVED IT!

Disney Plus is finally paying off. I'm in the group of peeps who got DP, not for the mouse, but for the ones whom the mouse is in bed with, and most recently on Mickey's playtime Marvel List - Wanda Maximoff and her robo-boy toy VISION... or is that “THE Vision”? - that seems kinda ostentatious, but whatever.

When I first heard that Wanda was getting a series, I said "Who cares?" I don't care bout no Wanda! What has she been other than a weird pest?

Let's review:

She tried to kill the Avengers, she accidentally injures and kills innocent people, she was getting in the way, so Tony Stark had to get his CPU (Vision) to babysit her, she falls in love with the CPU - can we talk about how strange this is? I didn't say wrong, just different, cuz honestly, we may be headed there soon. That movie "Her" might be a reality with how tech is going these days.

But, imagine I come to your home and fall in love with your laptop (which messes everything up for you with all your devices and your social media), THEN (as Wanda did with Vision), I run off on some romantic journey with all of your devices. Imagine how Tony would have felt, if he was still with us.

She had one job when it came to Thanos, and it ended up not mattering.

Then, went full rage on the wrong Thanos.

Idk if that’s a look (Thanos) pain, release, of he’s listening to his jam. Kinda looks like he’s saying “JESUS”. But, Wanda is pissed.

Wanda: "You took everything from me!"

Thanos: "Lady, I don't even know you!"

I didn't care about Wanda. But, damn, Marvel is so good that in one episode they made me care; one trailer, really.

If you had not seen the trailer for this series, you might be confused by the first episode. 

You might even ask yourself - "What the bleep is this nonsense?!" We want heroes vs villains. We want super-powered explosions. We want capes, ridiculously tight clothes, bulky armor, and anything else that makes no sense to fight in.

You're giving me "Bewitched"?

I DID see the trailer, so I knew going in that it would be a slow burn with some nostalgia, some quirks, and some eeriness; right up my alley.

The change in Tv decade styles btw *chef kiss*

I figured that they'd be trapped in some mysterious, magical world - which they are...

Unless you're super geeky with the funny books, there's no way you'll see what's coming in this mystery.

And it IS a mystery, not only to the audience, but for the characters involved in this show. Don't nobody know what the hell is going on.

But, LaWanda and Vishawn 

(sorry, I just wanted to use this pic - Ha! Y'all are crazy.)had help figuring things out:

Rambo

Yeah, it's actually Monica Rambeau, 

but... admit it, some of you kept thinking about Rambo too, right?? No offense to this actress, but I'd rather see old man Sly play Rambo, and HIM be in this mysterious WandaVision town. Let's get Disney a lil bloody. Wishful thinking, I suppose.

Marvel WILL BE venturing into multiple universes soon, so perhaps Rambo finds his way to team up with The Punisher? Huh?? YEAH!

But, no... Rambeau (meh No personality, but whatever).

Randall Park - 

He's that person we all know who has made us laugh so much in life, that they don't even need to say anything anymore; you look at them and laugh. I love this dude!

Kat Dennings - 

I remember liking her more in the Thor movies.  I found her annoying, this time around.   She joins the mystery to figure tech stuff out, and she's a doctor or something (don't you forget it!). She also asks the team she just meets to get her some coffee, and acts like they're disrespecting HER, by their lack of response. I know she's a doctor and all, but damn! Imagine some electrician comes to your place to serve YOU, they're condescending to you, and then  they ask you for some coffee. Get the hell outta here!

Oh, and there's a dude named “Director Dick”. That's my name for him, but the name fits.

The people in this town are acting out as if they've been scripted for some show. And all of these characters, AND US, get to figure it out together - through antics from different times in Tv culture. 

Times sure were different back in the day:

No social justice issues implanted or cursing or sex or drugs... now, I'm not saying it was a better time, just a different one :) A time when dad jokes ruled! Simple times! Ignorance was bliss. But, it kinda wasn't - not really.

It's like having an animal die on your property somewhere, and it starts to stink. You COULD find the truth of the stench... or light candles everywhere. Some really strong candles - maybe some of those Gwyneth Paltrow candles.

Though the stench might get covered up, the problem is still there. At some point, your kids could find the dead rotting animal... maybe start playing with it... you get the point.

In this show, the townspeople's minds have been taken over by someone or something, and it's torturous for them. So... bliss on the surface, but... not so much, going deeper. I tell you all of this, plus great production in each epi, a good slow-burn mystery, and fun with comic characters in a way we haven't seen before on screen, and hell yeah - Grade: A series.

Now... spoilers.

You might want to leave now.

People, Wanda is the villain here. I'm not sure if that's the message the writers are trying to convey or not, but I don't care; she is the clear villain here.

Here’s Wanda reading some Hell book, conjuring some dark spirits - nbd.

We are rooting for her throughout this show; even after we find out that she has been (even if not maliciously) controlling every one, we still root for her.

I'm not saying that's bad, but we can't forget about what she has done! Remember, I said that the mind control was torturous for the townspeople.

There's a very emotional moment at the end of this series between Wanda and Vision, and between them and their kids (yeah, they have kids... that's a whole other thing). This moment is well done and touching. There's even a bad ass fight between Wanda and the "true... villain"? - of this story. I'll get to her in a sec (There’s a badass Vision fight scene as well).

I loved all of that! But, at the end of the day...

I know Wanda is grieving and all, we all grieve, but we all don't, in our grief, take a whole town hostage, torture the people, all while playing house with our family. That's kinda sick, no??

Are we doing a girl-power thing? or a “witches are people too” thing? or “but she’s doing it all for her family” thing (yeah, they’re not actually real, but whatever)? I don’t know.

I'm not sure that we know what a villain is anymore. It used to be clear - the guy with the beard was the bad guy, or the guy wearing the black outfit was the bad guy, or the people who aren't Americans are the bad guys :)

But, movies like "Joker" and "Deadpool" and Harley's joint have confused some.

Who else would be the villain? There's a character, the villain (i guess), a witch named Agatha Harkness, played by Kathryn Hahn

Here she is saying “I’m the villain? Really? What about her?!!”

   - she's excellent btw; def the highlight of this show; her and Paul Bettany's hair game.

But, let's compare:

Agatha: 

betrays her coven back in the day, sure, but why you bringing up old shit? 

She allows Wanda to play out this fantasy for a while, and even played along. She could have just killed her when she was ignorant; that's what I would have done. She eventually shows Wanda the truth (granted, she then wants Wanda's power, but hey, everything has a price. And for all we know, she would have used all of that power to... cure the worlds diseases or something... though prob not:). Annnd maybe she killed an imaginary puppy. Convo for another time: if you kill something that's not real, does it matter??

That's it!

She didn't (like Wanda): abduct a town, torture its people, bring Vision back from the dead (kinda), endanger soldiers who were just doing their jobs, create weird fantasies (And did she have sexy time with previously dead, fake Vision? This thing gets even weirder if she did. But, let's not go down that path.) Oh, and she magically punted a black woman (Rambo) the length of a football field just for her asking Wanda some questions.

When the townspeople finally regain their minds (Lord knows how long it's been), they look at her with disdain, and I don't blame them.  And what does Wanda do?? - shrug, put on a hoodie, and fly off - to break into somebody's home and read some devil book.

Where’s cancel culture in this universe? 

I know she made us feel, but I ask again, who's the villain here?

Still Grade A stuff for me (again, I loved this!), but c'mon, people.

We get a glimpse of Captain Marvel 2 as well. My fingers are crossed. I actually liked the first movie. But, many others did not, and one of the reasons - Captain Marvel doesn't have much of a personality, and another - she's too powerful (no risk).

So, to answer the critics, we have Monica Rambeau - another ridiculously super-powered hero, with no personality. So, two unrelatable characters flying around in space, as Sam L Jackson tries not to curse. But, if Marvel can make me care about evil ass Wanda, I'll still hold out hope for Capt Marvel 2.

[crewhonk]

Only Happy Accidents (10)

Summary: It’s wedding day!

Warnings: Wedding Nerves, Mentions of grieving, emotional declarations, little Stevie is a naughty boy at the end

Words: Lots

Only Happy Accidents Masterlist

_______________________

You Matter To Me— Sara Barielles ft. Jason Mraz 

June 24th, Week 36, Wedding Day

YN woke with a jolt, fingers pressed to her side where her baby had gotten their foot stuck between her ribs. She was sure there would be a bruise blossoming soon enough, and she had only wished that Bucky’s theory about the baby being like Steve in the forties was true. However, that didn’t seem to be the case— the closer they got to the due date, the stronger the baby got and the bigger YN grew. YN was so large, that at this point, Pepper had asked if it was two babies instead of one, and much to Steve and YN’s relief, they were pleased to find out that it was, in fact, just one child. 

Steve shifted on the bed next to her, arms slapping the bed until it found YN’s shoulder and hummed, stroking her skin with his thumb gently. 

“You ‘kay?” He murmured, still half asleep. “So far. C’mere.” He grumbled, trying to pull YN closer. 

“I’m good. Baby just got stuck in moms ribs last night, so mom’s a little sore this morning.” YN cooed playfully down to her belly, and Steve, as if he had a sixth sense, put his hand over the sore spot on YN’s side and rubbed it absently. He mouthed at the back of her shoulder once he had pulled her closer to him, and she wiggled back into him, sighing as her body seemed to naturally react to his. 

“You were a little restless last night, sweetheart. You getting cold feet?” He mumbled jokingly and she scoffed. 

“About our wedding today? No. More cold feet about having Natasha plan our wedding though— I have no idea what to expect.” YN laughed, shifting onto her back and looking up at her Steve, curling her arm around his head and scratching his scalp as he kissed her collarbone. 

“Hey, we got to pick the wedding song and cake, and you got to pick the dress, so as long as you meet me at the altar today, I don’t care if a mime officiates the whole thing. I’ll consider it a perfect day.” He smiled and she rolled her eyes and snorted. “But seriously, you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she replied, remembering that nothing could get past Steve Rogers. “I had a few nightmares last night, though.” 

“About?”

“Well, since we haven’t gone officially public, which I still think is hilarious, I had a dream where press helicopters and paparazzi swarmed us and I couldn’t get to you no matter how hard I tried, and every time I almost got to your hand, the dream restarted. Then, I finally got to you and someone objected when the whole ‘stand now or forever hold your peace’ part rolled around and you killed them.” Steve smirked and nodded, and pulled the sheets over their heads, creating a safe little cocoon as he kissed her soundly. 

“I’d make sure I got to you first and I’m pretty sure the second bit won’t happen today— there’s only like, thirty people coming. You got nothing to worry about today, my wife.” He hummed and YN smiled. 

“Borat?” YN asked, cocking her head and making Steve frown. 

“What?” 

“Nothing.” She snorted and kissed him again. “Anyways, I’ll always make sure I hold your piece, Husband.” She hummed, sneaking her fingertips under the waistband of his boxers and feeling his stomach shudder as her fingers glided through the hair on his pubic bone. Just as she wrapped her hand around the base of his hot, half-hard cock, the sound of a bedroom door slammed open and something like confetti poppers exploded. 

“WEDDING DAY!!!” Three unmistakable voices screamed, and Steve sat right up, shielding YN with his body— sudden loud noises (no matter what they were) never worked well for Steve.

“Oh, it’s you guys.” He said, disappointment unmistakable in his voice. 

“‘Oh, it’s you guys,’ he says, disappointed that his fiancee couldn’t finish his hand job. Put your dick away!” Sam whined, and YN grunted, pulling her hands from Steve’s body and sitting up, running a hand through her messy bed hair. 

“Dick is away. Why are you guys here so damn early?” She moaned, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes as she looked at the clock— 8:00 am. 

“You get married in four hours, and we have to start getting you ready.” Natasha chirped, skipping over to YN and pulling her up much to the couples annoyance. Natasha pulled a hoodie and sweatpants from Steve’s drawers and tossed them at her, and all parties watched as she hopped into the clothes. She turned just as she went to leave the room and skipped over to Steve, reaching over him, grabbing her phone and wallet and planting a kiss on his lips. The boys hooted and howled and cheered as YN cradled his face in her hands. She straddled him to the best of her ability, but with an eight month belly, she did the best she could, licking at his bottom lip and running her hands through his hair to make sure he looked thoroughly snogged. She pulled back, and took in the sight under her— at his flushed cheeks, and his messy hair, his swollen lips and bright eyes and nodded. 

“See you at the altar, handsome.” She winked, a thrill shooting through her body as she rolled off of him and landed as gracefully on the floor as she could. Her own face heated up as she felt his hand smack her butt and she shot back a glare as she left the room. 

“You stole my line!” He shouted after her, and she left the apartment with Natasha and a laugh. 

Back upstairs, the boys turned back to Steve with smirks and raised eyebrows. 

“What?” Steve smirked sheepishly, scratching the back fo his neck and bending his legs to hide the tent that would otherwise be prominent. 

_________________________

“Turn to Stone”— Ingrid Michaelson

The girls arrived at Peppers cabin and YN was immediately handed a blindfold that read ‘bride’. 

“What’s this?”

“I don’t want the venue to be spoiled. Put it on and I’ll take you upstairs.” Natasha demanded, and not wanting to deny her her day, YN listened and trusted that Natasha wouldn’t throw her down the stairs as they made their way up to Peppers spare room. 

When YN was able to take off her blindfold she discovered that the spare room was less of a spare room and more of a fitting room decked out for a queen. There was a snack bar beside the bathroom door, soft fabrics and rugs thrown across the floor and around the pedestal in font of a huge mirror which had YN’s beautiful, stunning wedding dress hanging from. YN gasped and clutched her necklace when she noticed that the hangar read ‘Mrs. Rogers’. Her knees went weak, and Natasha, the woman who noticed everything, held her up and smiled.  

“Like it?”

“Natasha. This is— this is amazing I can’t—“ YN gasped, complying with Natasha and sitting in the white armchair in front of a makeup desk. Natasha grabbed her a bottle of water and all the medication she would need and waited and watched as YN took it all. 

“This is your day, YN and you’re family. This is what we do for family.” A new voice, Pepper Potts sounded from the doorway. The mini version of Ton Stark popped her head around her moms legs and upon realizing she could finally enter the forbidden-wedding-room, skipped in and climbed onto YN’s lap. 

“We’re going to make you a princess today!” She cheered and YN gasped, squeezing the little girls waist and making her squeal with joy. 

“But what about you? There can’t be more than one princess!” She played along, and Morgan looked genuinely offended at her words. 

“Then you can be queen! Like Elsa!” She demanded and YN laughed, wiping the food from Morgans cheek she had apparently been eating only moments before and kissing her nose. 

“As long as I have my Anna by my side.” She smiled and Morgan nodded eagerly. 

“Duh!”

___________________

Both Michaela and YN’s mother arrived soon, and soon enough, the preparations had begun. YN hadn’t had much of a breakfast— the combination of nerves and a hyperactive baby making her slightly nauseous (very nauseous), so it was between layers of moisturizer and foundation that she was able to take nips of fruit and bread— the craving of the day, hot Cheetos in ketchup— was immediately banned upon the mention of it by a slightly crazed-looking Natasha Romanoff. 

“That! Is not happening! There is too much white in this room!”

Michaela had immediately taken to YN’s hair, and after seeing a few pictures shown by Natasha, she nodded and began to work quickly. YN and her mother chatted idly— not having much to talk about since they’d been distanced since her father had passed, but managing nevertheless. Pepper fixed YN’s makeup up— light and airy, she had said. There was only a light layer of foundation, and it was a glowy, healthy look set with mattifying spray— something that would reduce shine but keep the look. 

The four hours passed too quickly, and soon, The dress was being pulled from its hangar and YN was being helped out of her sweater and pants— both being moved carefully to mind the bump, makeup and hair. 

The dress was lighter than YN remembered— the fabric cool on her hot skin, and flaring over her bump. Despite the looseness of the fit, YN couldn’t help but feel sexy— the slim, but plunging neckline mirroring the wide and plunging back. The star patterns in the fabric glinted in the light, and when she turned around, the four women gasped and Morgan cheered loudly. 

“Princess! Princess! Princess!” She began to chant, and soon, the four grown women joined in, tears streaming down their own faces as they clapped and jumped excitedly. They crowded around her and fussed, adding final touches and chirping to each other and cooing over how genuinely perfect YN looked. Soon, she was coasted into the view of the mirror, and YN couldn’t even recognize herself if she tried. 

Her skin looked fresh and perfectly toned— body shimmer making her have a glow that radiated from the inside. Her hair was shining and healthy in the natural light streaming through the curtains, and the dress— oh, the dress. It looked as if it was made for her by the Gods themselves.

There was a hush as YN’s mother took the veil and clipped it in her half-up half-down hair, fanning it around and YN stared at herself— in complete awe at what these women had helped her become. She was so lost in the patterns of the dress and her skin that YN couldn’t help but jump at the sound of the door opening and closing. 

She turned quickly to find Bucky staring at her and shaking his head, an awed smile on his face. 

“Wow. That Rogers guy is one lucky man.” He commented, walking over to the podium and helping YN off of it, kissing her forehead and pulling away, looking her up and down and shaking his head. “You don’t even look like the same person from this morning.”

“Is he here?” YN blurted, flushing bright red. She could have asked what he was doing here, or if the fact that she looked different from this morning was a good or bad thing, but all she could think about was the fact that Steve may or may not be here, right now. In the suit and tie she would be marrying him in. 

“He is. And, YN YLN, I have never, in all my 100 years of knowing the guy, ever seen him look so excited or happy. You are his soulmate, he’s yours and— I’m just so happy that you came into his life. He loves you more than anything in this world, and believe me when I say it’s not just about the baby. You have him wrapped around your finger and he wants to live there.” He said, tears filling his eyes. “Thank you, YN YLN. For making my best friend the happiest man on Earth.”

YN looked up at Bucky— his smooth hair tied into a neat bun, and his bright blue eyes shining and happy and his scruffy cheeks pulled back in a wide, happy grin— and sniffed, her chin wobbling. 

“Nope!” Natasha chirped, voice thick with emotion of her own. “Get out, you can’t make her cry!” Bucky resisted Natasha’s pushing, and tried his best to not feel horrendously fazed by the daggers shooting from her eyes. 

“I can’t do that.” Bucky smiled, wiping his eyes. 

“Why not?” Natahsa glared, resting her fists on her hips and tapping her foot. In tandem with the light blue bridesmaid dress, her hair and expression looked fiery and dangerous and it shot a thrill through even YN’s body. 

“Because it’s time.”

__________________

“Keep Breathing”— Ingrid Michaelson / “Little Wonders”— Rob Thomas

YN and Bucky stood facing the back door— the windows were covered by a half-sheer white curtain, something just enough for the crowd to see the silhouettes of the people behind it, but not enough for details. Bucky was waiting for Sam and Michaela to get down to the altar before he opened the door, and as he did, he looked down at the woman who was going to marry his best friend. 

“You ready?” He whispered and YN took a huge breath, digging her fingernails into her palms and shifting her weight from one foot to the next.

“I’m just trying to wrap my head around what’s about to happen.” She whispered, voice shaking. 

“What’s that?”

“Well, I’m about to marry the old Captain America, the Winter Soldier, the new Captain America and the Black Widow are standing for us, and half the crowd has either saved the planet on more than one occasion or are from literal space. I feel like I’m going to wake up any second from the craziest dream in the world.” She rushed and Bucky snorted, unfurling her hands and holding them in his own. He could hear the chittering of the crowd outside, but he wouldn’t start walking until he knew YN would be sure to follow. Throughout the wedding process and learning more about her and watching Natasha struggle and stress over planning, YN had managed to worm a comfortable place in his heart.

“When you say it like that—“ He joked and watched as a sheepish smile found its place on YN’s face. “It’s time.” He whispered and YN sucked in a huge breath and nodded, steeling herself for the long walk she would have to take by herself. Bucky, sensing her apprehension stopped from opening the doors and entering himself, taking her hands once again. 

“You gettin’ cold feet, Doll?” He half-joked. While he did like YN quite a bit, he wasn’t sure he was too ready to drive the get away car for her yet. 

“I just—“ YN said, voice quivering with emotion. “I just imagined this day going so differently. Don’t get me wrong! I love that I’m marrying Steve and that I’m having his baby soon it’s just— I wanted my dad to walk me down the aisle. He was my best friend and he talked about him walking me down and what song we would dance to for the father-daughter dance and— I don’t know. I don’t know if I can do this without him by my side.” She sniffed and Bucky, knowing just how it felt to not have your loved ones by your side, wiped her tears and offered a smile once she met his eyes again. 

“I’m sorry I—“

“Let me walk you down. I know it’s not ideal— but you’re family, and Steve is my brother and I want you to have someone who loves you by your side the whole day— your day. Will you, YN YLN soon-to-be-Rogers, do me the honour of letting me walk you down the aisle and give you away to Steve.” He said, eyes kind but overwhelmingly serious, as if this was the most important thing to him. 

YN tried to quell the rise of tears from her eyes and her chin wobbled dangerously as she nodded. He gave her his most charming grin as he took her hand and looped it around his arm, squeezing her hand before raising his other hand to wrap around the handle of the door.

“You good to go?” 

“Don’t let me fall, Barnes.” YN said, voice shaking. 

“I got you, Kid.” He replied, and twisted the handle, pushing both doors open and leading YN out to the backyard. The swell of the wedding march sounded, and the crowd gasped, upon seeing YN and Bucky together. He lead her across the porch and down the steps and his eyes flicked up to Steve who seemed to be holding back from either crying, throwing up, or sprinting off the altar to sweep YN into his arms. Bucky looked down at YN who seemed to be focussed on her feet. He squeezed her arm, and leaned in to whisper into her ear. 

“Look up.” 

And when she did, Bucky could see YN’s world shift. Her steps were slightly quicker, and her eyes shined in the afternoon sun, and the death grip on his forearm loosened until he was afraid she would pick up her skirts and sprint to Steve, which he thought would be rather amusing. 

YN couldn’t breathe— she wanted to be in Steve’s arms and to wipe away the tears streaming down his cheeks and kiss him until either one of them passed out. The world around her seemed to fade away to nothing— the edges of her vision whiting out until the only thing she could see was Steve. He looked impossibly thick and long in his black suit, his shaking hands clasped in front of him, and she couldn’t help the smile spread across her face when she noticed he was bouncing on the balls of his feet slightly. She felt wholly in this moment, and yet, felt as if she was hyper aware of the world. She could feel the deer on the other side of the lake moving, and she could hear the birds chirping and fish jumping in the lake, and she could feel the wind on her skin and the heat of the sun, and if she could pick one moment to live in for the rest of her life, it would be this one. 

Finally, she looked up at his face, and the breath was stolen from her lungs at the smile on his face.

‘I love you,’ he mouthed, as she grew closer and she winked. 

‘I love you.’ She replied. 

Eventually— in a combination of too soon and not soon enough, YN and Steve’s hands are being joined by Bucky, and YN could barely hear anything the priest was saying— his voice a distant drone as she stared into the deep blue and green of Steve’s eyes— memorizing every emotion and colour and solidifying the memory of this day and how his gaze on her face made her feel. 

He blinked, and tears spilled from his eyes, and YN breathed out a laugh, pulling her hands from his and wiping them away with her thumbs. She let her touch linger for a mere second and hurriedly re-joined their hands when the priest cleared his throat. It was another five minutes before Steve squeezed her hands and she blinked out of her reverie. 

“Huh?” She uttered and flushed with embarrassment when the crowd chuckled fondly. 

“The vows.” Steve whispered and YN’s eyes widened.

“Oh. Uh— yeah.” She commented and Steve chuckled and smiled at her— all of the love in the world in his eyes. “Steve. I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to say in these vows, and usually, vows would start with something like ‘since the day that I met you, I knew you were the one’, but our love wasn’t like that. We started it backwards, and it was slow, and awkward but so fast and natural at the same time. Our love is scary, and bigger than us and a year ago, I couldn’t have pictured that my life would be the way it is now. It’s filled with so much joy, and so much laughter and comfort and thrill and it’s so overwhelming to the point of me wanting to scream off the rooftops so that the whole city can have a taste of how much I love you. I will love you for the rest of time, Steve Rogers, and we have so much of it and I can’t wait to get started.”

Steve let out a choked sob through his smile, and wiped his eyes again with the back of his hands, joining them and raising YN’s knuckles to press against his lips. 

“I met you, Yn YLN, while you were wearing a sexy pirate number on Halloween night. YN, you’ve added an excitement and thrill to my life that I have never had— something I tried to find saving the world or hiding from it. You’ve given me a purpose that can’t be fulfilled through a job— a purpose without an end. You’ve given me a purpose of love, and devotion, and a purpose to make your heart beat fast and your stomach flip and if we get to fall even more in love along the process then I’m excited for it. My love and purpose for you are bottomless, and you’ve taken my life in your hands and flipped it into something softer, and warmer and into something that I am proud to live. Loving you is the new purpose you’ve given me and I will thank you for it for the rest of my days.” YN could hear the sounds of people blowing their noses and sniffling and YN looked up, tears leaking from the outside corners of her eyes as she let out a shaking breath. 

“Shit.” YN cursed, smiling up at Steve who was mirroring her shaking shoulders. 

“Would the ring bearess please bring the rings?” The priest called, voice warm and soft. YN turned her head away from Steve for the first time since the ceremony had begun to watch Morgan slowly walk up to the altar, seemingly balancing two gold bands on one light blue pillow, despite the fact that they were tied with ribbon. He little tongue was poked out the side fo her mouth and her brow was furrowed in concentration until she reached YN and Steve who bent over and untied the rings, thanking Morgan with kisses and words and rising again to face each other. 

“Do you, YN YMN YLN, take Steven Grant Rogers to be your lawfully wedded husband, until the day you die?” 

“I do.”

Steve took YN’s hand in his own warmer one, and slid the band on her left ring finger, raising it to his lips to seal the promise of his love with a kiss, making YN’s heart flutter in her chest with the love she had for him. 

“Do you, Steven Grant Rogers, take YN YMN YLN to be your lawfully wedded wife, until the day you die?” 

“I do.”

YN sniffed, and took Steve’s left hand in her own, and with shaking fingers, slid the ring on, mimicking his actions and kissing his knuckle, watching in glee as his cheeks flushed even redder than they already were. 

“Then by the power vested in me, by the grace of God and the state of New York, I declare you YN and Steven Rogers! You may now kiss the bride.”

And Steve, evil glint in his eye, took YN’s waist in his hands, and swept her in a circle before dipping her low to the ground and planting his lips on hers through a toothy grin and elated giggles from his beautiful wife. 

And, as Steve grabbed his wife’s hand and lead her down the aisle— her bouquet raised in the hair and as rice was thrown over their heads Steve Rogers swore he could never be happier than he was in this very moment. 

___________________

“Lover”— Taylor Swift

“Please welcome, for the very first time, Mr. and Mrs. Steve Rogers!” With a flourish of white and blue curtain, YN and Steve Rogers stepped out into the back yard, and gasped. The backyard had been changed from a summer camp cabin yard to an elegant shot from some romance movie. Fairy lights were strung from the tree to the edge of the deck roofing, and blue and white flowers were strung between them. The soft branches fo the willow tree were also weaved through the strings of the lights, giving the yard a sort of roofing structure which allowed the brightness fo the moon and stars to still be shown. Glowing warm lights were posted at every table and around the perimeter of the space, and frankly, YN had never seen anything quite like it. 

“Steve.” YN could only utter, and he squeezed her arm as if to say ‘I know’. He lead her through the clapping guests and up to the main table where they sat in the middle, with Natasha, Sam, Michaela and Bucky on either side of them. Without even having the chance to ask when the food would be served (YN was starved, and so was baby), caterers swept out from the house and down the stairs to elegantly place soup and salad and bread in front of them. 

The entire meal moved like this— entrees and meals served between speeches from friends and family— even Morgan had lamented about how much the Princess YN deserved a special day like this, and how she truly looked like royalty in the dress Uncle Bucky had chosen for her.  Sam, already drunk rambled about how much Steve deserved this and in the same breath, exposed every embarrassing thing Steve had done when he was seemingly alone. YN had cried laughing at that speech, and Steve looked between murderous and amused when Sam had told the entire crowd that Steve had waterboard himself on more than one occasion— the first time being ‘I wanted to see what it felt like’, the second time he had the hiccups and followed Natasha’s orders to drink water from the other side of the glass to quell them, and the third time was when Steve was watching cartoons and was too lazy to move from his upside down position on the couch to take a drink of water. 

“You are too cute for your own good, Rogers.” YN giggled in his ear, drunk off joy and the energy of the crowd. 

Finally the meals ended, and the tables were cleared and pushed into the periphery of the yard— far enough fr the thirty guests to dance, but close enough to fall into at a moments notice. 

“I think this is our queue,” Steve mumbled and offered his hand which his wife smiled graciously and took, letting him lead her to the centre of the dance floor. While she knew Steve would have appreciated something slow, both YN and Natasha were thrilled with the final choice of song for the first dance. 

Steve spun her slowly into his arms as the slow guitar and bass filled the yard and swayed gently as Taylor Swift’s voice crooned the words to “Lover”. 

‘Have I known you 20 seconds, or 20 years.’

Steve huffed a laugh at the lyric, smiling down at his beautiful wife and pressing his forehead against hers. 

“Have I told you how breathtaking you are today?” He murmured and YN snorted, pressing as close to him as her bump would allow. 

“Once or twice.” She replied, smiling up at him, and she swore the gold light of the candles and firelight made his skin glow and his eyes the deepest blue she’d ever seen. The eyes which had seen so much trauma and bad were so soft on her, taking in every speck of glitter and every bit of blush and every freckle which poked through the thin later of makeups he was wearing. 

The wold seemed far away as the two swayed together, simply trying their best to live in the moment and in each other. 

‘I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover.’

“I love you, Steve Rogers. Never thought I could be this happy again.” YN whisered, her hand curling through his dark blonde hair curled at the base of his neck. He grinned and bent down, pressing his soft lips against hers and drinking her in, running his tongue on her bottom lip to remember her taste. He pulled away and she laughed, thumbing the pink lipstick off of his mouth before kissing it once more. 

“I’m happy we feel the exact same way.” He replied, placing his forehead on hers and rubbing his nose against hers. Their lips barely brushed as they shifted around the room once more. 

The world came back to them soon enough with the sound of whistles and applause, and both YN and Steve blushed happily— not int he shame of being caught or exposed for their love, but for the fact that their love was so accepted and celebrated and it was almost overwhelming to see how happy their love made other people— let alone themselves. Finally— after seemingly waiting a lifetime, Steve and YN’s left ring fingers glinted the light as they were raised to the stars in celebration— never straying too far from one another at all. 

______________________

“Kiss - recorded at Spotify Studios NYC”— Kelly Clarkson / “Suit & Tie”— Justin Timberlake, JAY-Z

The bouquet had been thrown (Natasha had caught it, Bucky refused to make eye contact), the mead had been poured (Steve’s cheeks were flushed a healthy red, and Thor’s laugh boomed across the yard), the kids were huddled under a table, trying their damndest to stay awake with the snack they’d smuggled with them. Both Michaela and Sam had dissapeared multiple times over the course of the night— both returning seconds apart from one another with messy clothes and swollen lips, and YN had managed to sweep her mother away from Pepper multiple times over the course of the night to dance with her the way they used to in the kitchen, only to be interrupted by Steve who would wink at you and take your mothers hand. Morgan had graciously saved you from dancing alone after those incidents— both of you jumping up and down excitedly. Shoes and jackets were thrown haphazardly over table and chairs and drinks lay on their sides, long forgotten. 

Finally, the final event of the evening before people were allowed to disappear from the venue was called— the garter toss. 

“Would the groom and bride please return to the dance floor, please and thank you!” YN broke away from Pepper and her mom to the sound of Sams voice singing across the yard. In the middle of the dance floor were two things that made YN’s blood rush eagerly. 

A wooden chair. And Steve Rogers, smiling mischievously at her. 

Every time he had caught her eye over the course of the night, she grew more and more dizzy with love and lust for him. It had started when he’d shed his jacket— taught muscles pulling at the white fabric of his shirt, and his hair grew more and more mussed up the more he danced and jumped with his friends and wife. At some point, YN and Steve had been dancing, and in an attempt to seduce him, she’d undone his tie and left it there, undoing the top two buttons and kissing the sweaty skin she had revealed. 

Another two buttons and come undone since then— and bits of light brown chest hair began to show itself. He extended his hand towards her, and smiled— cheeks flushed bright and eyes shining with joy. YN blushed and walked across the floor to join him, letting him kiss her and place her gently in the chair before he nodded at Sam to start the music. The heady bass made YN’s heart pound as Steve began swaying his hips— the mixture of mead and wedding making him dorky and confident. His long fingers travelled up his chest and threaded another two buttons loose as he sauntered over to YN and turned, swaying his hips and grinding on her lap, making YN shriek with laughter and wipe tears from her eyes. His attempt at sexy was hilarious— and that was one of her favourite parts fo him. 

He spun around quickly, falling to his knees in front of her and surging up to kiss her lips before sinking down on his heels and wrapping a hand around her ankle. In front of everyone, he raised her ankle and planted a solid kiss on it, trailing them up her leg as he pushed her dress skirts higher up her body. After they had gotten to above her knee, he winked at her and flipped her skirts over his head, and YN clutched the sides of the chair as the crowd cat called them. She could feel him already working his magic on her skin. He was dragging his beard across her sensitive skin, and soothing the irritation with his lips and tongue. His hands were boiling hot, and his left hand wasted no time in pushing her thighs apart and pressing against the heated cotton of her underwear as his teeth found the fabric of the white garter wrapped around her thigh. YN couldn’t hold back her squeal as Steve pushed her underwear to the side and swiped two fingers up her core, gathering the slick of her pussy just as he began to pull the garter down her leg. He pulled out of the dress quickly, absently flinging it over his shoulder (it slapped pathetically against Bucky’s chest), and while everyone was distracted with the fact that both Natasha and Bucky had caught the omens of the next marriage, Steve raised his two glistening fingers to his lips and sucked them. He leaned over YN and kissed her, and she moaned lightly at the taste of herself on his tongue. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me, Rogers.” YN cursed at him and he winked, only pulling his face inches away from hers. 

“Wanna go find a place to make out, Rogers?” He asked, breath smelling of YN and mead and mint, and YN shuddered a breath. 

“Yes, please.”

___________________________

 Tag List (send me an ask, ONLY. must interact with the fic more than a like): yesfanficsaremylife / notyourtypicalrose /  laurxn-robinson / disaster-rose / lille-kattunge / wwecrazed2010 / vxidnik / chewingoffmyfoot/ vitamingrant / captainamericasbeard / chrisgalore / songforhema / mmyepic / multifandommandy / tommyhoe / lostdarksoul6 / crist1216 / taeeemin / jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory / feelmyroarrrr / teller258316 / mrsdeanwinchester19 / qrangr / mariswritingforfun / nerdypinupcrystal / kittycatlover18 / laucontrerasv / printedpeterparker / @dumblani  / @captainomad / eversonaive / rainbowkisses31 / i-think-i-am-adorable / rainbowkisses31 / smalltintedgorl / geeksareunique / jennmurawski13 / clutteredmind-emptythoughts / venezuelaanklemayonnaise 

[youarejesting]

Me & the Ghost in Number 23 Part Six

[MASTERLIST]

Summary: Moving into your new apartment on the dance academy campus, you hear it is haunted. You find yourself practicing your routines with the ghoulish resident in the second bedroom. Things get heated, except you know ghosts are cold. so…

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: talks about death being dead he is a ghost.

Genre: Supernatural, Mystery, Drama, Romance, Action, sexy stuff and more. HONESTLY ALL THE GOOD STUFF.

Announcement: I am going to try and finish this bad boy today you have all waited too long for this

“UUUUUUCK!!!!” You threw yourself out of the bed and scrambled across the floor to find a weapon grabbing and wielding the first thing you could find. “What is it?” The voice shouted falling out of the other side of the bed, “why are you- oh this isn’t my room, shit... Man I am so sorry, I was drunk”

You began pushing him from the room and into the lounge where he came face to face mirror with Jimin who was sitting on the couch alarmed by the shouting. Yoongi froze looking at the empty couch and then back at the mirror. “Jimin?”

Jimin ran off to his room scared of how his friend would react. He blocked his ears to the banging on the door, he didn’t want this. He didn’t want this. Tears fell from his eyes but the empty, hollow feelings that were numbing him didn’t ease. It was a silence that screamed so loud and he screamed back clutching the sides of his head. Begging for it to stop.

“Yoongi, please leave. I am sorry but whatever this is, he is upset. Come back later. I know I don’t know him that well but, no one would want the people they care about seeing them like this.” “I haven’t seen him since the day before he… Don’t do this to me, he is my best friend. I didn’t even say goodnight before I left for the studio” He was crying softly but your attention was taken by the inhuman wailing from Jimin’s bedroom. “Please just give me some time to talk to him” 

Once Yoongi exited the apartment you turned and knocked softly on Jimin’s door sinking to your knees sitting in front of it.

Jimin hadn’t stepped out of the room for the rest of the day and you had to go to class. Leaving him some food on the bench and heading off to class, where you had the worst dance session with Hoseok. He was perfect but you were so caught in your thoughts you were struggling to keep up.

“There is someone outside?” One brunette dancer asked the blonde beside her 

“He is producer Min, he is kind of famous around campus” 

“Famous?” The two were packing their bags and getting ready to leave

“Yeah people say that he has a silver tongue”

“Silver?” Shocked, the blonde looked wide eyed at her taller friend.

“Not literally, but if you ask me I would say his tongue is golden, or platinum whatever it is, it is precious”

“Why do they say that?”

“Because it doesn’t matter if you are a girl or guy, the rumor is you will never feel anything better than that man's tongue, or so the rumours say” Hoseok said stepping past them “Hey y/n you were a little distracted today is something wrong?”

“I have a lot going on, I just need some time to think”

“Hey Yoongi, is everything okay?” Hoseok asked his roommate who nodded peering around the bright ball of sunshine until his eyes met yours. “I am sorry about this morning, I was drunk and must have thought I still lived there. I must have been delusional this morning I was seeing things that couldn’t have been there”

“No, Yoongi it’s okay, I understand and if you want to talk my door is always open” You paused and then said to the open air “Metaphorically I lock my door every night!”

“Who are you talking to?”

“Potential robbers” you shrugged “anyone listening who wants to break into my house?”

“Do you get robbed often” he asked confused

“Never in my life, unless you count last night when someone broke in, I don’t think they stole anything, though” You gave a cheeky grin. “Do you want to come over for dinner tonight? I really think we should talk”

Hoseok seemed surprised he had never heard you speak so confidently, Yoongi nodded before giving you his number and heading across campus. 

“I didn’t know you and Yoongi were close”

“I mean we aren’t really, he was distraught this morning waking up in his old apartment, it hit him pretty hard, I think he is bottling it up and I would like him to open up”

After walking back to the on campus accommodation, you opened the front door with a sigh walking to Jimin’s door and knocking softly. “Jimin honey I am home, can I talk to you?”

There was no reply. You decided to talk with him through the door. You sat there discussing everything that happened and more and the door opened slowly and you felt arms wrap around you.

You held him as best you could seeing as you couldn’t really see him directly and the only feeling you had that he was there was the cold air that was his body. It was only once Jimin had calmed himself that you brought up the idea that perhaps the three of you could have dinner.

Jimin seemed hesitant and you promised he didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. However you took the time to explain how Yoongi was grieving him and missed him dearly and the idea of seeing Jimin again had him just as nervous.

The two of you broke from your embrace on the floor outside his bedroom and Jimin blushed awkwardly looking into the handheld mirror you had kept in your pocket. “Do you want to come in?”

You nodded and the two of you entered his room where you used his wardrobe mirror to gaze at him as he laid on his bed, you felt your chest grow warm all he was doing was laying down and he made it look so ostentatiously effeminate.

He gave a shy smile and patted the bed and you laid down beside him, facing the mirror and he laid directly behind you wrapping his arm around you resting his head against yours so you could see him. 

“Is this okay, I got carried away. I have always been really physical” Jimin smiled

“No really, it’s okay. It feels nice, to spoon with someone who doesn’t get sweaty and their arm doesn’t feel like a dead weight on my side” You sat up slapping your hand over your mouth and his mouth fell open behind you and then he started laughing so hard arms wrapping around his belly, legs curling up as he rolled back and forth. 

The sound of his laughter was so beautiful you wondered if he was a singer as well as a dancer.

[atc74]

The Storm

Square(s) Filled: The best is yet to come for @as-the-saying-goes-bingo​

Warnings: Angst, Chuck being a dick, break-ups, mentions of kidnapping and torture (s12 throwback), SLIGHT S15 SPOILERS

Summary: At one time, Chuck was the love of her life, now Y/N is fed up with his crap and decides to go toe to toe with him. 

Pairing: Chuck x Reader (past), Reader x ?

Word Count: 1728

Written for: This started off as a request from @idabbleincrazy​ for my 1k notes celebration:  Could u do #13 with Chuck? (Perhaps set after s14?) Congrats on 1k notes!!! “Fuck, I wish I could give you one more kiss, to feel your warmth, to see you smile… I miss you so much,” So post s14 got me thinking and this is what happened. 

Beta’d by: @amanda-teaches​ thank you for everything you do for me and for being a pretty awesome friend. 

A/N: S15 SPOILERS I have a theory and am testing it here. Not really, but you know what I mean. Chuck is all powerful, but there is only one being powerful enough to match him. While I don’t care all that much for Amara, I see her playing a bigger role this season and I pray to sweet baby Jesus that her character gets a little more depth than s11. 

Sections in italics are the readers dream

Looking to enhance your fanfiction experience? You can get Chuck’s scent here from @scentsfromthebunker!

Y/N wandered around Harlan high school. She should be helping contain the ghosts or helping Sam and Dean find a solution, but she couldn't find it in her to give a damn right now. She finally found a quiet room, the nurse's office. She took a seat on one of the cots and laid down. She couldn’t even believe the shitstorm they were in, all because of Chuck. Her boyfriend Chuck, but she was pretty sure that ended when he took off for worlds unknown with his sister to repair their relationship. If it hadn’t ended then, it surely would have when Sam shot him. 

The worst part about it was he never even said goodbye. Never told her he loved her one last time. She didn’t even get one last kiss from him. You know the one. The last kiss that says I’ll miss you and I’ll always love you but I just can’t be with you. 

The sun had started to sink below the horizon, setting the room alight with a warm pinkish glow. Y/N closed her eyes, praying she could get some rest. Rest from the end of the world and rest from her heartache. 

“Hey, there you are. I was looking for you,” Chuck pushed his way past the stacks of boxes in the store room she had decided to organize. 

“You’re God, babe. You knew exactly where I was,” she chuckled. 

“Yeah, but I also sensed you needed some alone time. I didn’t want to intrude. I promised I’d stay out of your head and I’m keeping that promise,” Chuck acknowledged, taking a seat next to her on the floor. “What are you doing in here?” 

“Trying to keep my mind off the end of the world, again,” she scoffed, pulling another box in front of her. 

“We’ll find a way to stop her,” he promised, pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

Y/N laid her head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arms around her. His strength was zapped after the fight with Amara. “What if we can’t? We’re all going to die.” She sniffed, wiping her nose with her sleeve. 

“At least we’ll be together,” he reasoned, resting his head on top of hers. “What do you say we get you out of this mess and to bed? It’s almost two in the morning.” 

“Shit, I didn’t think I’d been in here that long. I need a shower first. I’m covered in dust and cobwebs,” she informed him. She took his offered hand, and they left the storage room. 

“Can I join you?” he asked, almost hesitantly. 

“I’d like that,” she whispered her reply, kissing him sweetly as they reached her room. “No singing though.” 

“You love it when I sing,” Chuck protested.

“Yes, I do. But it’s two in the morning, babe,” Y/N pointed out. 

“Right,” he nodded. “No singing.” 

After grabbing a change of clothes, Y/N led Chuck to the shower room, softly shutting and locking the door behind them. She doubted either of the brothers would be looking to shower this late, but stranger things have happened when they’re stressed and can’t sleep. Y/N removed her dust covered flannel and shrugged off her boots. Fatigue had seeped into her bones, and she felt it acutely as she stripped off the remaining articles as Chuck did the same. 

Y/N flipped on the shower and stepped under the already warm spray. Chuck followed, watching silently as she wet her hair. “You’re beautiful.” 

She blushed slightly under his gaze. “Thank you.” Y/N turned her back to him, grabbing her shampoo off the shelf, only for him to take it from her. 

“Let me.” 

She stepped back as his hands spread the lightly scented shampoo through her locks. She generally appreciated his hands at any given moment, but at that moment, she hummed contentedly as he massaged her scalp. “That feels nice.” 

“I’ve just started,” he chuckled. “Turn and rinse.” 

He ran his long fingers through the strands, rinsing the suds down the drain. He reached for her body wash and poured a generous amount in his palm. His hands drifted over her skin as he washed her. While there was nothing sexual about his ministrations, she still found it sensual, the way he touched her. He was always there to take care of her, even in the simplest of ways. Since their early days when he was simply Chuck, the drunk prophet. 

Y/N returned the favor for him and soon they were toweled off, dressed in night clothes and in bed. “It’s odd, this feeling.” 

“What’s that, babe?” she asked sleepily, draping her arm across his waist, his around her shoulders, cradling her head on his shoulder. 

“Not being able to just snap my fingers and do something,” he admitted. “I feel so weak, so useless.”  

“You’re not weak, Chuck. You’ve taken a hit, yeah, but we’re going to fix this,” Y/N reassured him. She shifted her body until she was straddling her lover. “Let me take care of you.” 

Whispers of pleasure and declarations of love bounced off the cold tile walls as she took her time, pushing them both over the edge. Wrapped safely in the cocoon of his love, she drifted off to a restful sleep for the first time in weeks. 

~*~

She woke in a cold sweat, tears streaming down her face and into her hairline, Dean gently shaking her shoulders. “Y/N, wake up. It’s just a bad dream.” 

“Yeah. Bad dream,” she agreed, wiping her face dry. “Let’s get back to it.” The problem was she never had a chance to grieve the loss of their love. Sam had been kidnapped and tortured by the British bitch and Mary Winchester had returned from the dead. They never had a moment of rest. She never had a moment of rest. Never took care of herself. She was always hunting or taking care of Sam and Dean. Now they needed to save the world. Again. 

~*~

Y/N turned up her face at the storm that raged overhead, like the fire inside her. It had been one mini-apocalypse after another, and she was done. She was done with Chuck fucking with their lives. She was done with him putting the nightmaric visions in Sam’s head. How many times had he seen Dean die by his own hand in the last few months? How many times had Sam died at the hand of his brother? How many times had they killed her? She was done. 

“What the fuck do you want with us?” she roared into the storm. “Quit being a fucking coward and show yourself! Come and face me you piece of shit!” 

“Is that any way to talk to God?” his voice carried over the wind whipping around her. 

“When he’s acting like a toddler, yeah. A diva? Yep. My dickbag ex that left me hanging for years while he was galavanting around the fucking universe bonding with his sister? Abso-fucking-lutely!” Y/N bellowed as she faced him. 

“You always were sexy when you got mad,” he chuckled, a look of nostalgia clouding his features. 

“You haven’t experienced my wrath,” she challenged. 

“Fuck, I wish I could give you one more kiss, to feel your warmth, to see you smile… I miss you so much,” Chuck professed, taking a few steps closer to her, the storm calming around them. 

“Yeah, well, I’m pretty sure the statute of limitations hasn’t expired on your bullshit. You should have thought about that before you left me high and dry without even so much as a note,” Y/N cursed. “I’m so fucking done with this act. End this now and let us go. We’re not going to play your fucking games anymore!” 

“The final chapters are just starting, Y/N. And yes, my love, you will play along. I haven’t finished your ending yet. You play nice and I’ll save you,” Chuck revealed. 

“You think I’ll just give up on Sam and Dean? For you? Why, because you’re God?” Y/N thundered.  

“Because we have a history,” he remarked. 

“It’s that history that will eventually be your undoing, God,” she spat. “I’d lay down my life for them before I ever go with you. They were there for me when you walked out. They’ve been there for me every step of the way. They were there before you, and they’ll be there long after we’re done with you.” 

“Because I wrote it that way! Don’t you see?” He snickered. “I made you indispensable to them and them to you. I’ve made you so co-dependent on one another that you will gladly sacrifice yourself for them, but would they do the same for you?” 

“Without question,” she answered. 

“We’ll see about that,” Chuck grinned wickedly, the storm gaining strength once more. 

“No, brother. It’s over,” Amara called out over the booming thunder, illuminated by the storm and her power. 

Chuck backed away, only to be restrained by that power. Amara stretched out her arms, gaining further intensity, levitating over her brother. She placed her hand over his heart, her palm glowing red as she transferred the Mark to him.

He cowered from her touch, and his screams rent the air before he fell to his knees on the soaked earth. “What have you done?” 

“Turnabout is fair play, Chuck. Let’s see how you like being locked inside a cage for a couple of millenia,” Amara mused, returning to the ground beside him. The storm dissipated and the sun broke through the clouds. 

“You should know better than to mess with a Winchester, Chuck,” Sam clucked, wrapping his arm around Y/N’s waist. “You okay, honey?” 

“Never better, babe. The best is yet to come,” Y/N placed her left hand on his cheek, pulling him in for a kiss, her silver ring glinting in the sunshine. She turned back to Chuck on his knees at her feet. “Think about that when you’re rotting in your cage.” 

In the blink of an eye, Amara and Chuck were gone, leaving Sam and Y/N alone. 

“Feel better?” Sam asked her.

“It’s over. With Amara’s help, we saved the world again, and I got my closure,” Y/N smiled up her husband as they walked toward their new life together. “So yeah, I’m good.”

Did you like it? The nicest thing you can do for a writer is reblog their work and tell them, and others, how much you like it!

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Chuck’s Chosen / Rob Worshipers: @gettingbywithalittlehelp96​

[moony-mae]

Hi I finished Final Fantasy 7 Remake last monday and I wanted to talk about it here but I keep forgetting... So here’s my two cents and spoilers under the cut. 

So first of all, I didn’t play the original. I never had a Playstation 1, and I wasn’t interested in playing the HD edition because I'm not a fan of turn-based games. That being said, I knew some of the characters because of Kingdom Hearts, you play eco-terrorist, Reno from this game is basically Axel and they share their voice actors (Japanese, English and French, and probably other too) and I know Aerith dies. That's pretty much everything, and maybe some other details because I've been on this thing we call the internet for a lot of time now, but that's pretty much everything. 

Oh and I don't remember why the years ago I watched a Crisis Core playthrough that left me with a lot of feels and tears. I love Zack, he's my boy and he deserved so much better. But I'll cry over he's not-so-dead body later. 

Also, I'm aware of the infamous ship wars that last for 20+ years. But again, more on that later.

So, these last months, while 90% of my friends were so hyped because of the Remake, I was "Yeah Okay. That looks cool I guess". But I didn't watch any playthrough when it released because I wanted to discover everything on my first run. 

So : 

I had a hard time with the gameplay at first. But once you control and knows it, it's really fun, I liked it. 

I liked Aerith before, from what I knew from KH and fandom things, but now I'm just in love. Her spunkiness, and her softness... Ma'am, I love you.

I didn't know much about Tifa aside from her punching walls and searching Cloud in KH2, but I'm also in love. 

Cloud is a soft emo boy who tries to be an adult and fails (I relate) and I like him. 

I was annoyed by Barret at first because he kept screaming in Chapter One, but he's just a soft big guy who's trying to save his lady, aka the planet.

Marlene is so cute I want to hug her.

Jessie, Biggs, and Wedge are precious.

THE CATS, OMG THE CATS. They are so well done!!!! Also, Wedge's cat is the true hero of this game you can't change my mind. 

The music is just so good I want to cry.

Chapter Twelve could just have beaten me up it would have been the same results. 

I'm afraid of Scarlet.

Tifa and Aerith saying they are going to cut Don Corneo's ball added 10 years to my life. 

Also the animation of Don Corneo beer belly. It's so well done. 

The dance at Honeybee Inn. Oh god. I was just laughing of embarrassment the whole time. Also wow Cloud those moves what Hojo did do you

Speaking of Hojo, this is the person I want to cut the balls of. Or maybe other things. He whole speech in front of Aerith about what he did to Ifalna's body... I just wanted to hug this poor baby girl and torture the bastard off

Also what he says about breeding Aerith in front of the council of Shinra.. Y I K E S. 

Speaking about them I don't know who I hate the most. 

Aside from Reeve. He's a good boy and the only one who has a heart so please save him. 

Also, Palmer, who are you. Like they are no space for in the Shinra museum why are you even here.

... Okay I just looked on the wikia but my question still stands.

... It’s funny that I used the world space.. 

Red XIII don't believe Barret you are BEAUTIFUL when you smile. 

So the ending : I just want to say I started crying the moment I saw Zack's boot on my screen. 

I don't know what to think, aside that the whispers are clearly OG fans screaming "we want the original game just with better gameplay and graphics don't change a thing" but it’s time to challege destiny ! 

Also I saw a pic of Nomura, Kitase and Nojima and honestly, they look like people who could plan to destroy the world together. Just a feeling, but I'm afraid of their powers. 

Like I said I don't know if there's an other timeline where Zack is alive (a friend who doesn't buy the theory thought it could just be "Stamps friends" like Hello Kitty's friends or something and they are all on chips packs but idk), or if he just dies later before the game starts (that would be sadistic but I'm afraid of the three people in charge and they look like they could do that) but I know that anyway I'm going to cry a lot

if we have a zerith reunion it's going to kill me I'm crying just thinking about it.

Actually I need to speak about Aerith before we go on shipping part. Again, I don't know what to think about her "instinct" aka her knowing things and the weird feeling Marlene had when she touched her.. Idk. I readed the theory about her knowing the events of the OG and it's on point with her explaining about the whispers and the whole destiny part, but again idk.

YES IT'S SHIPPING TIME AND MY TWO CENTS ON IT

I love Zerith since CC and it didn't change here. Two babies who can kick ass and deserved better

I foud Cle/rith (so it doesn't go on the ship tag) cute (everyone is just sexy in this game so) but I felt Zack's shadow over them the whole time. Between Cloud who's not really himself and mixed he's life with what he knew of Zack's and Aerith asking multiples times about Cloud's war buddies (and the scene in the park of course!), it just doesn't add for me. Yes, of course, Aerith could move on but she seems to know things and not while she's clearly grieving Zack/searching information about him. Also, like she said, he can't fall in love with her. Not that he shouldn't fall in love with her, he can't. 

Cloti is hella cute. It's in my "looks cute" ship part, aka not my otps and I could easily read fanfiction when they are not together but they are really cute. 

Last but not least, a word on the dub : I played in French becase hey it's here so why not and it was good. They took back the original voices of KH/Advant Children for most (I'm sure for Cloud, Sephiroth and Tifa). The only dub that I don't like is Aerith, they casted a new voice for her and it seems too childish for her, but it had grown on me so it's okay now. 

To put it in a nutshell (you don't know how much my English professor would be proud seeing me using this) : it was great and I cried a lot. As usual.

 Now I'm going to read a lot of fanfiction. 

[urfaustus]

@ghoostiing​ asked:  ' are we considered monsters? like the monster frankenstein built? '

The sun shines on Elijah, but in such an unflattering way. When it came to anybody else that the sun seemed to catch, it was always a compliment from nature in the genius’s perspective. Hey, look at this human being, but also look at this beautiful person in the most gorgeous moment you could imagine! Yet, when the sun fell on the engineer, he would argue the flaming ball had different intentions for him. It never caught him in the perfect light, it was never a scenario, where--oops! The sun is in my eyes, but look how sexy I am despite that! -- Elijah blinks his eyes shut, offering a bitter frown in response to the source of natural light before he forces his attention elsewhere. 

Gray-blue eyes fall to the floor beneath him as he ponders to himself, though they’re quickly pulled away from where he’s looking once he hears the nearby shuffling of one of the giant house’s residents behind him. Pursed lips as his head tilts back, catching view of the person who has walked in and recognizing them instantly. 

“Ah, good afternoon Spec!” Elijah greets warmly, before using his index finger to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose to their rightful position. His lips cast just as warm of a smile to the firewall-turned-android, his brilliant mind already beginning to forget what he’d previously been so upset about. “What can I do for you, my friend?” His question is followed up by a gentle gesture to the empty chair that was next to the engineer’s and he welcomes them to fully enter the room and relax with him.

Their curious question is certainly something that Kamski is surprised by, many android models were capable of discussing philosophy and the programmer would be lying if he tried to say he and his Chloes never took the time to discuss many of life’s difficult and un-answerable questions. His amazement is purely due to the fact that Spectr was not a product of Elijah’s -- at least not directly -- and the truth is he just isn’t fully aware of what this android is capable of. Cyberlife has turned into its own entity separate from Elijah Kamski and he is no longer privy to many of the projects the corporation has manufactured during their time apart. 

“I see you’ve discovered a few of my personal effects.” Eli responds, addressing their specification of Frankenstein’s Monster in a playful manner while he begins to gather his thoughts in order to best answer their question. It was no secret that the human was a fan of Mary Shelley’s classic story, though perhaps it was a secret that the engineer often found himself relating to Victor Frankenstein’s role from that tale. 

Very much unlike Frankenstein, it would be difficult to deny that Elijah is attached to and proud of the form of life he has created, but the two men definitely share a similar heaviness on their shoulders, a guilt felt towards the effort of what each man was responsible for creating, or more specifically for Eli, founding.

Idly brushing his thumb against his chin hairs, Elijah considers his words one last time before finally speaking, answering Spec’s question. “That depends on one’s interpretation of the book and one’s understanding of what the definition of monster is, I assert. Victor Frankenstein is an extremely smart man whose obsession results in the birth of the supposed monster. Frankenstein’s monster is essentially shaped and molded by his treatment of those that occupy his life and the environment that surrounds him.” 

“There is a duality between the creature and the Frankenstein family’s nanny and one of Victor’s adopted sisters, Justine, who is also someone that is rejected by those who she was born with. Her mother has little care for her, but the Frankenstein family--and Victor in particular--more than make up for her abandonment by providing her with love that she desperately requires. The creature, of course, receives none of this from neither Victor nor those he attempts to befriend and throughout the book grows resentful and violent; finding himself eventually capable of framing Justine for the murder of Victor’s younger brother, whom the creature himself had killed.”

“Frankenstein’s creature is an interesting example of a monster in design, but perhaps he might be one of the most human characters throughout the execution of his story. He begins his life with an intense desire to be loved and accepted, particularly after being instantly rejected by Frankenstein and soon after being chased away by the family of a blind man he befriended, regardless of the fact that he discreetly assisted them by collecting firewood. Like all things that are alive, the creature desires a partner to love and be loved by and eventually demands of Victor to create him a bride of his own, because of his unshakable belief that he deserves happiness like everyone else. When Victor destroys her out of his many rapid fears of the project, the fury and desire for revenge brings the creature to murder Victor’s wife on the night of their wedding.”

“Frankenstein himself, while he begins the story human, finishes it resembling a monster perhaps more than the creature itself. Growing up in a very functioning, loving family of three sons and two adopted daughters, the brilliant Victor even regards his best friend as more capable than himself. What makes Frankenstein relatable begins with how he deals with the death of his mother which is to bury himself in his work and force himself to continue his studies while he is still grieving. This coping mechanism is extremely weak and later on in the book it proves itself to be detrimental to the man’s mental health as the creature continues to terrorize him and rob him his loved ones’ lives. The further that the creature pushes for respect from man or happiness, the sicker Victor appears to become. The levels that the two are willing to send one another to are endless.  For example the creature’s cunning capability of incriminating other people for the crimes that he himself has committed not once, but twice! As well as the way that Frankenstein becomes so caught up with this creature that he neglects his brand new wife on the night of their wedding because of the pure fear of the creature that has been instilled into the scientist. It’s only when he discovers her lifeless body that he finally finds it within himself to do something about this mess.”

“Up until this point, the man has failed absolutely every person he holds dear due to his fear of his creation, his shame of the creature’s unnatural state and the unhealthy obsession he bears with death and reanimation, his inability to act on their behalves in the wakes of their deaths and how he has been incapable of facing the reality of what he’s made and admit to those that supposedly matter in his life the secret he had been hiding. Now he chooses to put an end to the source of pain that has haunted both him and his creature for so long but only now that is too late, now that neither could possibly prosper in any form.”

“Throughout the text, both the supposed man and supposed monster seem to dance between both roles, both characters have it in them to be wonderful people and both prove themselves capable of committing acts that are so vile, shocking and sickening. They compliment one another quite well in this nightmare, despite the glaring differences that are established between the two; the line between each becomes so blurry by the end of it that it’s truly up to personal interpretation for one to distinguish which one is Frankenstein and which one is Frankenstein’s monster. Both are capable of being quite monstrous, but both of them have very human behaviors and hearts: the fear of facing responsibility and not holding oneself accountable in response, or crafting a comfortable coping mechanism from grief and being incapable of fixing a situation for your loved ones because of it, or having the desire to be desired, to need a friend, only to grow angrier and full of resentment the more you are rejected, or to find yourself so obsessed with the concept of revenge or getting back at someone that when you finally achieve it, you’re incapable of knowing what peace is.”

The engineer draws his eyes to the android, slightly turning his body in his seat to better face them. Fingernails combing through his own hair, which has been lazily pulled back into a sloppy ponytail after having spent the day doing laps in the pool. 

“...To actually answer your question, Spectr, I do not consider you monsters in the same vein as Frankenstein’s monster. I’ve spent a very large portion of my life with many individuals who have proven to me that they could be capable of allowing themselves to turn into such horrific things if they wanted to, but they instead resist and find healthier, smarter, and safer ways to earn respect, maintain their dignity, to teach us while being viewed as an equal and loved like a living person and I very much maintain the belief that people like Markus and Connor and -- even you -- will continue to show us that you guys are the furthest you possibly could be from being defined as the monster from that story.”

“You could borrow the book if you’d like. In my experience, these things are better to be interpreted in one’s own way -- you don’t need to be told how to view those characters or yourself.” 

[thecloserkin]

fic rec: Are You Mine? and I Want Some More by PoetHrotsvitha

fandom: Assassin’s Creed: Syndicate

pairing: Evie Frye/Jacob Frye

word count: 54k and 50k respectively (one is a direct sequel to the other)

Is it canon: yes

Is it explicit: this is the most explicit material i have thus far reviewed on this blog

Is it endgame: yesssss

Is it shippable: yes

One thing you guys should know about me is I don’t read a great deal of smut. I don’t actively avoid it either, and I for sure consume more smut in the context of fanfic than in professional published fiction because I feel the following quote in my bones: “It wasn’t that friendship needed to be sexualized, it was that erotica needed to be … friendship-ized.” So when I stumbled on this fic that is 80% smut stretched over the thinnest pretext of plot, based on source material I have zero familiarity with, what did I do but fall headlong for this pairing and this story. Bless you, anon who brought Fryecest to my attention, and praise the Lord for modern AUs where knowledge of canon is not mandatory.

Jacob and Evie Frye are twins born into an Assassin family and raised by their exacting taskmaster of a father to take down the Templars. There’s no Templars or Assassins in this modern AU of course, just Evie’s looming A-Levels and their absent academic of a father. Evie’s still the golden child, of course—she’ll follow in their father’s footsteps and get her Ph.D. Jacob is the problem child. He’s already fallen in with the Wrong Crowd, he’s impulsive, he drinks and gambles and mostly solves problems with his fists. His relationship with their dad is hella strained. And because this is supposed to be PWP the author wastes no time in ratcheting the sexual tension up to 11 by having Jacob pick Evie up from her posh school on his MOTORCYCLE, each of them pretending not to be so turned on they could have combusted from desire by the end of the ride. Cool cool cool.

Their relationship begins barreling in a dom/sub direction almost from the word go. Evie is one thousand percent the take-charge, Type-A personality, so the idea is that she needs to relinquish that control in the bedroom, and Jacob is the only one she trusts to dominate her. Because they’re twins and they balance each other out adfkdfkdfjdkfd. The scene in the beginning where Jacob tells her not to button up her blouse while she’s making breakfast, and she actually listens to him instead of ignoring or insulting him, holy shit that was hot. It starts so small but eventually he’s got her wearing a wireless vibrator to class and begging for her “punishment” when she takes it out without his permission because it was too distracting.

I imagine this is what the 50 Shades of Grey phenomenon was about. I haven’t read 50 Shades of Grey myself, but I’ve interacted with people who rave about it and clearly got something out of those books, bad as they were. I’m not trying to compare the quality of this story to 50 Shades of Grey—it’s lightyears superior to that dreck—just that when I finished this fic I had the dazed realization that this was why people read smut.

There’s a throwaway line in Jacob’s internal monologue where he muses “they seem to be going about this backwards,” because he’s buying flowers for her the day after fingering her to a screaming orgasm, and yes I am 100% here for this trope. Ffs he sits with her in the library to keep her company while she studies! He waits for her/escorts her to her one hundred and one extracurricular activities! He’s a really immature 17-year-old and he’d never dream of doing this for anyone else, but when it comes to Evie he becomes suddenly sweet and thoughtful and solicitous. He’s constantly pausing in the middle of sex to ask for her enthusiastic & affirmative consent and reminding her to use the safe word. At the same time he’s madly jealous when anyone else shows a flicker of interest in her and he regularly makes her admit he “owns” her during their role-play. They are each other’s firsts which for some reason is really important to me in these kinds of they’re-teenagers-exploring-their-sexuality setups. This is Evie hitting up the lingerie boutique in preparation for their FIRST WEEKEND GETAWAY:

“I’m going away for the weekend with my-” Evie almost stumbled on the word, “-boyfriend.” What a strange concept.

I AM TRASH FOR THIS INCEST TROPE i love the way she stumbles over that word. Bc that’s not the box that Jacob occupies for her, is it? He’s much more than that. I love the way she alternates between begging him to put it in her cunt and calling him a prat and a shitheel; just because he’s the love of her life doesn’t make him stop being her insufferable little brother. You know what else I’m trash for? ALL the sneaking around tropes. One time while sexting with him in a storage closet at school she’s busted by one of the teachers and only barely has time to lock her phone before he confiscates it.

So the first fic ends with their dad finding the sexts and nudes on Evie’s phone, disowning them both, and Evie choosing to go to University of Edinburgh because their dad knows too many people at Oxbridge. The twins get a flat together and it’s happily ever after. Except no! In the sequel it’s ten years later and Evie and Jacob have returned to the house they grew up in to say goodbye to their dying father, and they’re ESTRANGED OH NO WHAT HAPPENED. Evie has a four-year-old in tow. We find out in fairly short order that the kid is Jacob’s, but Jacob doesn’t find out the truth until we’ve sent him through the angst wringer. The fic is about how they grieve and reconcile and how Jacob learns to parent, and this one is actually like 60% plot and I think I like it even better than the first one. This author’s note really spoke to me:

I’ve read a fair number of sibling incest modern AU fics in a few different fandoms and they all tend to end at “and then they ran away from their families and lived happily ever after/epilogue of sexy fun times possibly with the introduction of hey they've had a kid!”. And I mean I love that, don't get me wrong. But I guess I’m also weirdly preoccupied with the part about what comes after that, because it always seemed far too dreadfully simple an outcome. Normal relationships are rarely that easy, so why would these be? Then again I'm probably putting too much thought into a porn fic, LOL.

DEAR @poethrotsvitha, THIS IS A SIGNED PETITION TO PLEASE NEVER STOP OVERTHINKING THE PLOT OF YOUR PORN FICS. Like, nobody starts fucking their brother unless they really mean it, because the risk of the relationship going pear-shaped and the two of you still being stuck in each other’s orbit because there’s no “breaking up” with family? That’s a big risk. And also why incest pairings feel so high-stakes and I am trash for them, obvs. One of the reasons the dom/sub dynamic is so integral to their relationship was because Evie had a tendency to dictate to Jacob what he “can and can’t do,” and he understandably chafed against it sometimes. It’s what led to their breakup five years ago. And so him taking charge in the bedroom is a kind of counterbalance, and there’s a scene in this fic where she lets him role-play a noncon situation as a way to partly soothe his jealousy.

To a large extent it’s their son who brings about their reconciliation, but their son is also a hyperactive little git who throws a monkey wrench in their sex life, so now instead of hiding their relationship from their dad they’re tiptoeing around a four-year-old. And the big character development that happens on Jacob’s part is him recognizing that Thomas is Evie’s #1 priority now, and there comes a moment where he has to make a difficult decision to prioritize the two of them in his own life, too (by quitting his job and ending a toxic relationship). The other thing I really liked was how Jacob thinks ruefully he could have gone a another round if he were ten years younger, which he’s not, but Evie seems satisfied and that’s what matters. The recognition that he’s not a teenager anymore, and doesn’t have the stamina of one, but he’s also more mature and this time he’ll be able to give Evie what she needs? Oh, my heart. Like I said I loved them being each other’s firsts as teenagers but this, this second chance they’ve got as adults, this is beautiful.

Ok so this is Evie begging Jacob to fuck her in a closet in the middle of their dad’s funeral service??!:

“Please, I just need to forget. Just for a little bit- I need to forget, please-” Oh, God, this was a terrible idea. A terrible idea that she would die before she stopped- she felt like an addict after years of sobriety, pushed by stress and grief to needing that all-consuming high that she'd never quite been able to forget. Her fingers worked at his belt, pulling it open, unbuttoning his trousers to draw the heel of her palm along where he was already hard. “Evie,” he rasped, shuddering against her touch. “Shh,” she said, tucking his pants down enough to pull his cock free, giving it a few firm strokes. “Shh.” If they talked, it would be too real. It had to be rushed and frantic, to feel like it was just the once, to ease the ache in her chest.

And this is after they finish (“if only it could have lasted forever”):

Silently, she turned to let him zip up her dress … There was a warmth against the back of her neck as she felt him draw her hair aside and press a kiss to the sensitive skin, hesitant and uncertain.  "Thank you," she breathed into the darkness, listening to the click of his belt as it slid back into place.  He just sighed, leaning his forehead against her shoulder, saying a million things without speaking a word. 

LEANING HIS FOREHEAD FOR A MILLISECOND AGAINST HER SHOULDER OMFG I AM DECEASED

Ok so to return an earlier point: When you want a canon incest happy ending in a modern setting (as opposed to if you’re both Targaryens) the most popular option is run away and live as an unrelated couple, which necessitates cutting ties with everyone you’ve ever known. This may be more or less difficult depending on the quantity and quality of those ties; unless this is Flowers in the Attic and you’ve literally been locked in the attic for years there’s bound to be people you care about other than your sibling so this is a monumental ask. The Fryes choose option B, “living openly as siblings and keeping the incest on the dl”. This option is not without risk, of course, since exposure is always a possibility, and Evie has to put up with the other moms at Thomas’s preschool eyeing Jacob like a piece of meat. Still, it means Thomas gets to bake cookies with his grandmother, who would not have let Evie and Jacob back in her life if they flaunted the truth. I mean, it’s not that she doesn’t know her kids are fucking, it’s just that a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy allows everyone’s relationships to remain intact:

She seemed to be struggling to get the words out. “Is Thomas…” There were a few ways that this question could go, as far as Jacob could see, and he didn’t particularly want to deal with any of them. He leaned against the counter, palms rigid against the cold surface. “I’m really tired, Mother.” “I know. I just…” There was a terrible pause. “Are— are you and Evie…” Still facing the toaster, Jacob closed his eyes. He couldn’t muster a lot of fake outrage, but he planned to deny everything anyway. He didn’t care about how plausible it was. It was easier for everyone that way, especially Mother. Before he could open his mouth, though, Mother’s chair scraped back. “Actually, never mind. It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”

Every Wednesday Evie (who’s moved back in with her mom) leaves Thomas with his grandma and goes to “book club” which is really date night at Jacob’s. And the two of them get right up to their old tricks:

When he gave her just the slightest nudge upwards with his hips, she finally let a broken whisper rasp out. “I can't- I want- please-” Jacob clicked his tongue. “You know what I want you to say.” She twisted her neck around again, and he could see that her eyes were now glassy with longing. “Huh?” “It's simple— just ‘My greedy cunt belongs to my brother’. “ “I will not."

The process of turning that initial “no” into a “yes” is scorchingly hot so there you go, I love these two, I love this fic, I have definitely seen the light and I'm ready to embrace smut.

[secretsfromwholecloth]

So. *cracks knuckles* I just got finished playing Pillars of Eternity for the first time this morning. I have opinions. They’re under the cut.

The map and pausing functionalities and the “just click on who you want this character to attack and we’ll handle the rest” combat brought the gameplay closer to what I’m used to from roguelikes (extremely low-res so you can see a huge amount of the area on the screen at once, turn-based gameplay that doesn’t require you to react quickly or aim well) and made the game actually playable for me, and I wish they were, if not standard-issue, then a lot more common. I hadn’t played a definable ~video game~ since I was about eight, as much because of gameplay that’s Not For Me as because of bad memories attached to them, and that might not have been the case had I had things like this available to me before.

The setting is fun and intriguing, though I’m still sorting through my feelings about its handling of religion (which has a certain tinge of “we wanted the color and variety of a polytheistic pantheon without having to consider actual polytheism”). I’ll be happy to continue spending time in Eora as I play through Deadfire and whatever future games there are in the series. (PoE III: Yezuha, anyone?)

I’ll take the opportunity to experience something different on future playthroughs, but I really do like my Old Vailian moon godlike artist cipher. I started thinking about Clelia’s personality when @bloodilymerry mentioned that her Watcher was keeping Durance around to keep an eye on him—what would my Watcher’s reasoning be? Because that is something that needs explaining; that guy’s a douche. So I thought, I know, I’ll base her on my twenty-something self who thought someone with misogynistic and white supremacist tendencies could be turned if I was only nice enough to him. That eventually turned into her acquiring my gender (some shifting combination of woman and agender, as befits a Vailian godlike), ancestry (or the Eoran equivalent, Old Vailian mother and alternately overbearing and neglectful Ixamitec father), early-twenties relationship situation (see below), and more besides, as I used the character and her interactions with others to basically relitigate my twenties. (I won’t say the entire decade was a blank loss, but I won’t not say it, either; this process has been quite healing, in its way.)

Where, where, is my option to hug my companions? Or various other characters, like Adaryc? They all need so many hugs. I shouldn’t have to headcanon all the hugs. This isn’t right.

Speaking of the companions:

Aloth: I loved elves when I was active in Tolkien fandom (though I was always Team Aragorn as far as that went). Intellectually, I’m well aware that he’s an adorable woobie who needs lots of hugs. “Abuse survivor falls in with a religious group led by not-great people to get away and then has to escape again from their saviors”? Relatable, I know some of those feels all too well. A romance that explicitly breaks free from the relationship escalator and rejects the weight of societal expectations of what A Romance(tm) should be? It’s like they read my mind. My real-life sexual history is full of Aloths, sad little cuties who needed me, and in my day I befriended more of them besides. I love his VA and think he did a great job. So why did I take until the endgame to start warming to the character? I have no idea. I’m still sorting through that.

Edér: Oh, Edér, why won’t they let me hug you? So in case you can’t tell, I love the big man to death, and his usefulness in combat (he’s nearly indestructible when fully leveled and given well-chosen, nicely-enchanted gear—he took down Concelhaut by himself, with a little help from figurines, after the rest of the party was knocked out) is only part of the reason he never left my party. I went for the mayor ending with him, because encouraging his god-bothering tendencies just seems cruel in light of what’s going to happen in five years. (Side note: “Eder”, accented on the first syllable, is a Basque name meaning “handsome”, and it was one of the proposed names for a character from Forbears who’s also a traumatized war woobie. I eyebrowed mightily when I first heard about our man here.)

As much as I ship Edér/Watcher on general principles, he and Clelia aren’t actually that compatible as a romantic couple per se—we see in a few places that he likes his women less sweet and more fiery, probably because at least part of him sees himself as a big, dumb brute who’s slow to catch onto people’s signals and at risk for hurting women without realizing it if they don’t make their opinions known by getting in his face and yelling. I have a couple of levels of headcanons for what their relationship is like:

If we’re hewing fairly closely to game canon, he loves her to pieces, and her flashes of ferocious protectiveness are kind of hot, but she mostly trips his “tiny baby, must protect” circuits, and it’s a relief to watch her get better and grow into someone who needs less babysitting. She’ll be romancing Tekēhu in Deadfire; he’s happy for them, and her continued fangirling over Edér is background noise at this point, not even really awkward anymore.

If I allow my headcanons to take flight a bit, both of them being lonely, touch-starved, and kind of messed up when they met led to him indulging her when she would want to paw at him at night, because hey, it’s actually kind of nice, especially compared to the loneliness of before, and by time they fight Thaos, they’re having “friends doing a nice thing for each other” sex on the regular but know a Proper Romance isn’t in the cards. Over the course of Deadfire, she gets into a triad with Rekke and Tekēhu, with Edér back in his old role as the beloved friend she sleeps with sometimes, and before anyone says anything, “AFAB person with two boyfriends and another male friend who takes the occasional turn in hir bed” is a spot-on description of my relationship situation from ages 19 to 22, right down to the friend being older than the others and a huge stoner. He wasn’t nearly as good a person as Edér, though.

Obsidian have priors, you know. Just ask Star Wars fandom about Bao-Dur. Let us romance the war woobies, Obsidian.

Kana: Another one who never left the party, due in equal amounts to his usefulness on the battlefield and my emotional attachment to him. I demand the option to throw my arms around his waist and smoosh my face into his solar plexus, goddammit. Especially when it turns out that the Engwithans were kind of terrible and the ironclad evidence of Rauatai’s link to them is destroyed and it breaks his poor heart.

Kana, at first, didn’t resonate with me as an immigrant’s child, in part because his second-generation experience was very different from mine, with parents who viewed their heritage as something to protect him from, rather than enthusiastically passing it down like mine did. But by the late game, I’d come to a new understanding of what his deal was: He was raised with no connection to his parents’ heritage besides them telling him a few “pirate stories”. But in Rauatai, he was physically different and subject to racism, and no amount of loud, enthusiastic patriotism ever quite made that go away, which meant that his parents’ choice to not give him anything else to cling to, rather than smoothing his path to integration, left him feeling alone and adrift. So he latched onto ancient times for that sense of having a place in history, and specifically the Engwithans, viewed as “everyone’s ancestors” in much the same way as the real world’s Greeks and Romans (after all, the Glanfathans and their direct connection to them wouldn’t have been more than a name to him then). If there was a link between them and something as foundational to Rauatai as the Tanvii ora Toha, and moreover if it was him and his work bringing that knowledge to everyone, then maybe he’d finally be allowed that feeling of continuity and belonging. Maybe he’d finally make sense there.

Durance and Grieving Mother: Apparently they had the same writer. The same male writer. Meaning that this man had the opportunity to add two nuanced, fully explored characters to this fantasy world, and he chose to give us a violent incel and a woman with no thoughts of anything besides babies and motherhood. I’m genuinely quite uncomfortable with this and glad they have no equivalent in Deadfire. I didn’t much appreciate having to keep Durance in the party so much to advance his quest, either, and their one-dimensional characterization and stilted dialogue felt like a poor fit with the rest of the game.

Fuck you, Durance.

Pallegina: I’d hug her, but she might run me through with her sword for trying. I’ll let her come to me when she’s ready for hugs. Her absolute certainty and confidence (only shakable by a sexy aumaua woman flirting with her, apparently) are wonderful to see, but maybe one day she’ll form an identity for herself that isn’t so tied up in the Republics and their government.

Sagani: She’s every working mom who knows she’s doing the right thing but still regrets spending so much time away from her kids, and I love her and want to hug her a lot. Also, Itumaak is cute, but Edér, no, wait until he’s had more than two days to get to know you before you try to pet him!

Hiravias: Go have a bath before I hug you. And yes, the racism you face is terrible, but could you shut the hell up about Pallegina’s cloaca? And keep a lid on the lewd comments in general unless it’s someone you have that kind of relationship with? (It’s absolutely in character for someone that lonely to be both desperate to keep the first friends he’s made in years and inclined to push their boundaries and test them to see if they’ll just abandon him like everyone else. And he does absolutely need some hugs. Still, though, dude, not cute.)

Devil of Caroc: Totally needs a hug, but I’m not sure she’d appreciate me just going up to her and giving her one. We can show we care about each other by making snarky comments instead.

Zahua: Poor, poor Zahua. Needs a bath first, but then so, so many hugs. Tied with Edér for loveliest voice in the game—hey, you two want to banter some more so I can sit here and listen to your voices?

Maneha: Girl, come here so I can hug you. I agonized over whether to have her keep her memory or not; I was thoroughly OK with her forgetting it, but reading over the endings, I think the one where she remembers is nicer. Also, she had some of the cutest banter in my playthrough, both her flirtation with Pallegina and her growing friendship with Kana, but...what’s that accent? Northern Cities? Midwest? It works for her, she sounds adorable, and of course I wouldn’t expect someone with her history to sound exactly like Kana, but I wonder a little what they were going for.

Fuck you, Thaos, you’re the worst. Lady Webb, you had atrocious taste in men.

Fuck you too, Simoc.

Ondra is less nice than she thinks, and I look forward to getting on her nerves in Deadfire.

Speaking of which, let’s get started.

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Superheroes with Secrets: In Sickness and In Health (Fic part 114) (Set in 2001)

Around 2000 Words. 18+ in places.

please inform me if you wish to be tagged/untagged from posts.

Tags: @piratewithvigor

‘Giantess’ Kirby Roussimoff x Shane ‘Hurricane’ Helms (Circa 2001)

Reference Posts: Shane ‘Hurricane’ Helms

Kirby ‘The Blacklight Bandit’ Roussimoff

The longer she's in there, the more concerned he gets. Kirby eventually gets out of the shower, breathing deeply as she dries off. He's sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to his chest.

"You alright?" Kirby asks gently as she looks at Helms from the bathroom doorway.

"Worried about you. Otherwise fine."

"I'm... alright, I'm not fine, it felt weird being flirty while talking about family." Kirby admits sheepishly.

"Just a... not a sexy subject?" He chuckles.

"Yeah, got me feeling weird."

"I understand. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault." Kirby states matter-of-factly.

"If you're sure."

Kirby nods, sighing heavily as she walks to the edge of the bed.

"You're in a mood, but I can't tell what kind."

"Shane, my mind is conflicted, okay."

"I know, and I'm trying to help you un-conflict it."

"I wanna make love but at the same time I feel too awkward to do so." Kirby murmurs.

Why? Cause we were talking about our family?"

"Yeah, and my brain went to the Samoans and Show. I don't want to make love to you when I'm thinking of them."

"Oh jeez, yeah, that's a good call."

"So, I'm gonna sit outside and draw." The moment Kirby finishes her sentence, the rain starts coming down in 'cats and dogs'.

"Maybe inside for now? I can clear out if you need quiet."

"No, it's fine, I'm fine." Kirby states flatly, her breathing betrays her, she's definitely not okay.

"Hey... sweetheart, lie down, okay?"

Kirby nods, laying down next to him.

"What's going on inside your head right now?"

"I wanna make love to you but I'm still thinking about my family, and I miss dad and Rodney and I just want the baby to be okay but I also wanna work, and I wanna get some sleep but if I do that I might have another weird dream and I don't want to have another weird dream and I'm so deprived of caffeine that my brain feels like it's buzzing and I'm so fucking stressed out about everything and nothing at the same time and I just want to be okay, but I know I'm not okay, and I just want to scream for help but I don't know what's wrong with me." Kirby rambles, tears flowing like rivers.

He pulls her in close and rubs her back slowly. "You're grieving, tired, going through withdrawals and experiencing hella hormones. Everything in your body is trying to make you lose your mind."

"I don't like it, Shane, I don't like feeling like this."

"I know, sweetheart..." He whispers.

"Everything feels wrong and I just want to be okay."

"Feeling okay starts with a good rest. I know there has to be some kind of something you can take to knock you out for the night but also have it be safe for the baby."

"Uhm, Rikishi's wife usually takes Benadryl, I think, when she was pregnant with the twins she definitely took the stuff." Kirby murmurs as she wipes away tears.

"I'm gonna call in a favor for someone to go pick up a bottle, okay?"

"Okay." Kirby nods.

"Okay. Just gotta get up and get my phone. I'll be right back."

Kirby nods, putting her head in her hands. Helms scampers up and makes a quick call to Shannon, promising to pay him back whatever he needs to get a bottle of Benadryl up as soon as possible. It takes about twenty minutes before Shannon knocks at the door, a bottle of Benadryl and some typed out instructions in his hand.

"I owe you a bottle when your wife gets pregnant." Helms assures him, giving him a quick hug before bringing Kirby the bottle.

Kirby looks at Helms for a moment, "how much do I take?" She whispers, her voice wavering.

"Just two. They should help clear your head and get you to sleep."

"Hon, can you get me some water." Kirby asks gently as she opens the pill bottle.

"Yeah, course." He fills a cup in the bathroom and brings it over.

Kirby takes the pills and swallows them with the help of the water, placing the cup and pill bottle on the nightstand.

"How're you feeling?"

"A little better, thank you." Kirby murmurs.

"Good. That's a good start."

"I'm just gonna try and sleep." Kirby whispers, settling down under the comforter.

"Good. I'm gonna be here if you need me."

"I love you, mon mari, I love you so much."

"I love you too, sweetheart. So damn much."

Kirby quickly falls asleep, dead asleep, making little noises in her sleep. Helms keeps awake by doing quiet exercises on the other side of the room, watching the bed. His body is killing him, but the pain keeps him awake in case Kirby needs him. Kirby's breathing hitches as she squirms a little in her sleep. Helms keeps a close eye on her, trying to determine if she's having a bad dream or a very very good dream.

"Shane, I love you." Kirby murmurs, reaching over to his side of the bed in her sleep.

He gets up and scoots into the bed, taking her hand so her subconscious doesn't believe he's gone.

"I love you, mon mari, vous êtes la perfection." Kirby murmurs in her sleep.

"Back atcha, sweetheart." He chuckles softly.

"Sleep, baby daddy, you need to sleep."

"I'll sleep when I know you're okay."

"tais-toi et dors, je vais bien." Kirby whispers.

"Okay, okay..." He lies down beside her and closes his eyes, but refuses to actually sleep beyond pretending really well.

Kirby snuggles up to Helms, keeping him close and preventing him from leaving the bed.

"I've got you, my love. You're safe."

"Shane, sleep, damn you." Kirby whispers against his neck.

"Not until you do."

"Please, Shane, I'm okay, I'll let the pills take effect, would you please just sleep." Kirby whispers, her voice wavering slightly.

"I'll try. That's the best I can do."

Kirby lays next to him, letting the pills do their work. He doesn't move until she drifts off for sure. Kirby falls asleep with his hand held tightly in her own, needing to feel him close to her. Once she's firmly asleep, Helms finally drifts off. It's about 9 PM when the two wake up, Kirby's stomach growls as she wakes up.

"How're you feeling, babygirl?"

"Hunger is my only emotion." Kirby grumbles.

"'M on it." He yawns, going to fetch the room service phone.

"Brains." Kirby jokingly groans, making herself crack up like an idiot.

"Grains. Got it, doll."

"Shane, I love you, ya weirdo."

"I love you too, sweetheart."

"What would you do if I was a zombie?" Kirby questions teasingly, trying to tickle Helms.

"Get bitten eventually."

"Would Zombie you, spend eternity with Zombie me?"

"Absolutely he would."

"You know what I want babe, cheese fries."

"Ooh that sounds good."

"Cheese fries and choccy milk."

"You're a genius, babe. An absolute genius."

"Like I'm nine years old again, cheese fries and chocolate milk, maybe even a tub of ice cream too."

"Stop, I already married you, I can't marry you a second time." He laughs.

"Who says you can't?" Kirby questions teasingly.

"Then I hereby marry you, Kirby Helms."

"Thank you, mon mari, I love you so much." Kirby whispers as she kisses his jawline and neck softly.

"I love you so much too."

"I'd go insane if I didn't have you." Kirby whispers.

"How'd you survive before me? As in, last month?"

"Just kinda kept to myself, didn't talk to anyone, bottled my emotions up and worked my ass of to try and stay sane."

"I can understand that..."

"Didn't feel human for ages, I've tried my hardest to not let things get to me, but it takes it's toll after a while."

"You needed a break from the darkness."

"Yeah, but how can you tell that when you live in darkness?"

"Because one day I saw you and my eyes never re-adjusted to the darkness. You were too much of a light in my life."

"I love you so fucking much, Shane." Kirby murmurs, pulling Helms into a gentle kiss.

"I love you too. I always will."

"My life was shit until I met you, honestly."

"You had the giant family. Didn't they treat you well?"

"Shane, I know I talk about my height a lot, but ... when you are as tall as I am, and female, people don't want you around. Sure, my family was nice to me, they supported me, but the fans didn't want anything to do with me for years, and..." Kirby takes a deep breath in.

"And now they adore you. They think you're one of the coolest heroes they've ever seen."

"Shane, the majority of my life, I've been treated like a freak of nature, it's so hard to believe that you're loved when you get that treatment for so long."

"I get that."

"The moment I debuted as 'Giantess Roussimoff' the fans decided that I wasn't worthy of my own name. Night after night, I got booed and jeered, and the signs they'd write were horrible."

"They had no right to do that. Not when it was your own name."

"I don't think they even believed that it was my name, it made me hate myself, I wanted to just run away from the world. I just, I had such hatred for myself, I can't even put it into words."

"You don't need to have that hatred anymore."

"Shane, I can't just shut it out, not when it's been a part of me for so long."

"I know, but you can start by accepting that it's in the past."

"I know, what do you think I've been trying to do ever since the fans started cheering for me?" Kirby questions, looking away from Helms.

"I think that you keep telling yourself you don't deserve the cheering."

"You know me like the back of your hand, don't ya?" Kirby mutters.

"Hoping to someday."

Kirby still doesn't look at Helms, putting her head in her hands and sighing deeply.

"You okay if I hug you?"

"I'm fine." Kirby murmurs.

He hugs her from behind gently, hoping to offer her some type of comfort.

"Go away." Kirby murmurs, trying her hardest not to cry.

"No."

"Why are you so persistent, Shane, why do I matter so much to someone like you, someone who could have anyone he wanted."

"That's a stretch. Contrary to what you believe, I'm not a sex pot. You're the only girl I've wanted who I can open up to."

"You're too sweet to me, you're much too kind. I love you but I don't deserve you." Kirby whispers, turning to hold Helms close.

"You deserve me. And I deserve you. Out of your years of sadness and loneliness, you deserve someone to follow you. Out of my time drifting without a family, you've given me not only that, but a home. We deserve each other."

"I'll take your word on that." Kirby whispers, kissing him deeply.

"Good, cause I'm right."

"Shuddup, Shane." Kirby murmurs as she kisses his jawline and neck.

"Don't think anyone can make that happen."

"You talk too much." Kirby whispers as she climbs over him, pulling Helms into a heated kiss.

"I know." He chuckles.

"Shush, mon mari." Kirby murmurs as she pushes him down against the bed.

He nods in response, grinning. Kirby smirks as she gets to work undressing both Helms and herself, stopping herself from getting fully nude, and kissing him deeply. He kisses back happily, hands roaming her body. Kirby flips their position so Helms is above her, moaning against his lips.

"You're so damn beautiful."

"Mon mari, you are the most handsome man in existence."

"Then that means I've earned the hand of the most beautiful woman."

"You've earned my entire body, if of course, you mean me." Kirby whispers.

"Of course I mean you."

"Shane, I love you so much, I would give you my blood if it satisfied you." Kirby whispers.

[abeautifulblog]

Where's this thing gonna end?

So I've changed my answer a few times when people have asked how much is left in the fic -- here's the behind-the-scenes.

Originally it was going to be a one-shot -- just that first chapter, a static portrait of depression and alcoholism. The ending of it caught people off-guard, because we expect change and progress in our narratives, so it's disconcerting to reach the end and get neither. It begins with Robert miserable and hungover, alone in the dark except for Betsy, and it ends with him miserable and drunk, alone in the dark except for Betsy, no improvement, not even any cause for hope. It’s a rude thing to do to readers, but that’s what alcoholism and depression is.

And then the bake sale chapter came to me; I don't recall the inspiration, and initially I was apprehensive of the reception it would get because it was so very different in tone from the first chapter. But hey, it turns out people like seeing Robert have a good day too, and together those two stories didn't form any real meta structure, but I could live with that.

And then, Scheherazade-like, the same night I posted “The Zara Shirt," my brain furnished me with the complete plot for “This House Just Sings (This House Just Screams).” And suddenly the chapters started getting harder to write, because suddenly they mattered more. It wasn't just about Robert's depression anymore, or his fluffy escapist romance with Gene, it was also really, really important to me that people understood just how fucking terrible Joseph is, that there is nothing sexy about psychological abuse, and goddamn this fucking fandom and their hard-on for shipping Robert with Joseph. Usually I don't care if people like a pairing that I'm not into -- Steve/Tony? Sure, you do you, bro -- but this... christ almighty.

At best, Joseph is a manipulative serial adulterer who took advantage of someone mentally ill and grieving. At worst, you're shipping Robert with his rapist. If you like Robert, you shouldn't want him anywhere near Joseph, and I could write a thousand words of meta on the subject -- or I could write a fic that delivers the same message.

Anyway, after that installment, the series had developed enough that I felt it deserved some closure before I stopped. As I was working on “This House,” I was also kicking around some ideas for the next chapter to be something more lighthearted, as a palate cleanser -- a romp in which Robert and Mary scheme to trick Gene into getting a dog. Then after that, I thought, would be the closing chapter, featuring some important conversations between Robert and Gene, showing what lasting change looks like for someone like Robert, and ending on a note that is not without complications, but hopeful. (Kind of like the ending of the game.) Five chapters in all, three serious installments with two lighter interludes.

Except it didn't happen that way, because after "This House" my brain was like "lol okay but what if you wrote a sex comedy about Gene and Alex and Craig and Smashley having a foursome instead?" And after that my ideas started wandering more toward Gene's angle (*cough* and Alex) and we got three Gene-centric chapters in a row -- “The In-Laws,” “Her Dad's Dumb Crush,” and Gene's remix of “The Zara Shirt.” And with each chapter, Alex became more and more integral to Gene's world, and rightfully so -- you don't love and live with someone for fifteen years without shaping each other. Gene's history is so deeply wrapped up in Alex, all the major touchstones of his life have involved Alex, all his beliefs about what relationships should be and how to make them work were formed by his experiences with Alex.

And it was while I was writing the foursome chapter that it stopped being a coincidence that Robert and Gene hadn't had sex yet, and crystallized as yet another thing that Robert had issues about -- which is why the chapter that wound up coming out next was the morning-after coda, “After the Storm,” when they finally acknowledge the existence of those issues. And it meant that the ending wasn't simply a matter of getting around to writing a sex scene (and addressing the alcoholism, and addressing the depression), it also needed to work through the intimacy issues that Robert's Joseph-related PTSD had left him with.

(That's part of what delayed the sex comedy -- that in the original version, it was Robert who prompted it, and Gene told the story to him, not Mary. But halfway through, it became blindingly clear that this is not a story Gene can tell Robert. Not at this point in their relationship; Robert is already wildly insecure about his worth as a partner and how he measures up to Alex's memory, and struggling with his hangups about sex. Listening to a story about how much Gene adored Alex (and all the crazy awesome uninhibited sex they had) would have gutted him. So it got overhauled, and Robert got swapped out for Mary and her more neutral, prurient curiosity.)

And that means the ending isn't just addressing the romance, and the substance abuse, and the depression, and the PTSD, Robert also needs to reconcile himself to the memory of Alex and the place that he's always going to hold in Gene's heart.

So yeah, I admit, I keep moving the goalposts.

But what makes an ending satisfying is whether it provides proper closure and forms symmetry with the rest of the story. And as the story evolves, so too does the ending need to, or you're going to wind up with a Harry Potter epilogue situation -- a jarring return to primary colors after the story has broadened into shades of gray. Delving deeper into Robert's character and his myriad issues has meant reassessing where the finish line needs to be -- and for Robert, the finish line has never been about sex, or even romance, really. They show that in the game -- that his good ending isn't about getting to shag the Dadsona, it's about finding the will to change and finding someone who cares about him enough to support him in that endeavor.

So I wouldn't say that I have a plan for the ending exactly -- I'm still playing it by ear and letting the story unfold as it wants to -- but I do know what it needs to accomplish and I am building toward that resolution, not just meandering around pointlessly. It'll probably cap out around 100k~120k, because novel-length is the only way I know how to tell a story.

Now if I could just get over this fucking writer's block that leaves my head full of stories but without the words to tell them.

[let-the-bands-take-c0ntrol]

6 Inch

Previous Parts

     You eyed the glass of alcohol like a lion eyed its prey. The hand rested on the small of your back was cold a huge contrast to how hot your skin was. You turned back to look at the stranger. He grinned down at you and his eyes matched the look you were giving the alcohol. The man’s chest was pressed up against your back and the smell of his cologne had your knees weak. You grabbed the glass and inspected the drink. You saw the bartender making it with your own eyes and after she had finished she had placed the glass right in front of you, so you knew there was nothing wrong with the drink. You brought the glass up to your mouth and took a sip. As you pulled the cup away your dark purple lipstick stained the rim. “I couldn’t help but to notice you when you walked in,” the guy behind you said. His voice was deep and there was a rasp to it as he whispered in your ear. You felt a shiver run down your spine at how close he was. His beard tickling your skin.

“Oh really?” you replied, taking another gulp of your drink. You turned around so that you were facing the guy. He was attractive to a point where you felt nervous to be under the man’s gaze. Your eyes took a quick glance at his arms the dark skin covered in tattoos and toned as can be. He licked at his lips and nodded at your question. “Thanks for the drink,” you said, tilting the glass in his direction before taking another sip. 

“It’s my pleasure. So what’s your name, Sweetheart?” he questioned, moving around you to take a seat down at the bar. The two of you were very close to one another. Leaning in to hear what the other was saying since the club was loud and packed to the full. You smirked at his words and rolled your eyes at the nickname he had given you. 

“It’s Y/N, Sweetheart,” you said, the smirk on your face growing even more at the expression the man gave. He let out a small chuckle, white teeth gleaming as he grinned at you. You looked down at the alcohol that was in your cup noticing that there was on a few swallow fulls left. You turned the glass up and took one big gulp finishing off the liquor and feeling your throat burn in sensation. Once you finished you placed the glass down on the counter. “Can I get a Hennessy and Ace mix,” you requested towards the bartender needing something stronger than the alcohol the stranger had bought you. 

“Damn you’re going in hard tonight. Tough week?” the guy asked. 

“You could say that,” you said, “Now I told you my name. What’s yours?” The man licked at his lips as he rubbed at his beard. 

“Derrick” he responded. 

“That’s a sexy name,” you smiled making him grin at the compliment. You had become a different person after the night you left Calum. You started to party more, flirt around, and drink to your heart’s content. You didn’t care what happened and just felt like enjoying life to the fullest. When you were with Calum you had never done things like this. Sure before you met Calum you were a carefree woman and doing whatever it was you needed to do. You were a leader and was always taking care of your business. This wasn’t the case at the moment. You needed to let your hair down and just get drunk for a while. When your drink was in front of you, you swiped it off the counter and slid out your seat. “Care for a dance?” you asked Derrick, holding your hand out for him to take and taking small sips of your drink. 

“That was suppose to be my line,” he said, grabbing onto your hand. 

“Mmm well you gotta move fast,” you said, pulling him into the crowd of people. You began to sway to the music drink in one hand as your other held onto Derrick. Your hips began to gyrate and you backed your ass up against Derrick as the beat to the music switched up. You no longer cared about Calum. With the two of you being separated and Calum out fucking some other woman you decided you no longer wanted to be married. The first night you left and went out to party you refused to stoop to Calum’s level and cheat. That was a month ago. A whole month of not talking to your soon to be ex-husband and your thoughts had changed. You weren’t together anymore so having a one night stand didn’t sound so bad and from the looks of it Derrick was just the right guy to do that with. 

     Calum sat in the V.I.P. section of the club with a sad look on his face. He was leaning against the railing that overlooked the dance floor and chugged on his beer. Calum wasn’t in the mood to party, but his friends had dragged him out in order to get him out of the rut. He had majorly fucked up and Calum was now facing the consequences of his infidelity. “Hey cheer up man,” Ashton said, slapping his down on Calum’s shoulder and shaking him a bit. They were all trying to do their best to make their friend feel better, but he had dug his grave himself so they weren’t going to offer words of wisdom. All they could do was help Calum grieve the loss of his marriage. The boys of course had known about Calum’s cheating and being the best friends that they were, they stood by their friend and kept his secret. Now it was all biting him in the ass. 

“I just want my wife back,” Calum responded, chugging down the rest of his drink before grabbing the bottle of Vodka off the table to drink that instead. You wanted nothing to do with Calum and he didn’t know how to handle it. When he had found the note you left it tore Calum apart. Not only did you leave him, but you had left your wedding ring too. Your wedding ring that was in Calum’s pocket at the moment, burning a hole in his pants. It hadn’t left his side ever since and Calum held onto that ring until you decided to come back to him. If you decided to come back to him. Calum looked back at his friends the guys singing loudly to the music and a few girls sitting around giggling at them. He despised how happy they all looked. It was almost too painful to watch and Calum rolled his eyes at the sight. He tilted the bottle of vodka up to his lips letting the alcohol burn his throat as it went down. Calum rubbed at his eye and he looked down at the crowd. He chugged at the liquor again, but the bottle lowered from his lips when his eyes landed on two people. 

You were in the same club as Calum and neither of you knew it until now. Well now Calum knew. He licked at his lips, teeth sinking into the flesh as he stared in jealousy. You were dancing with some guy. The male’s hands running up and down your body as you began to grind on him. For some reason Calum couldn’t take his eyes off the scene. There was something about the way you were acting that made him feel weird. In the last two months of Calum cheating he hadn’t seen you act like this. Walking around with confidence and flirting with guys. It was like you were a different person in his eyes. Calum’s jaw clenched when he saw you bring the guy into a kiss. “What’re staring at?” Luke questioned coming up beside Calum. He had noticed the hard stare and frustration on his friend’s face. 

“Nothing,” Calum muttered, taking a longer swallow of the Vodka and still keeping an eye on you. Your kiss with the stranger was growing more intense and Calum could visibly see the guy’s tongue slip into your mouth. 

“Is that Y/N?” Luke asked, eyes squinting as he looked out into the sea of people. Luke looked back to Calum and his lips parted in understanding at why his friend looked angry. “Shit man I’m sorry,” Luke sighed, noticing the kiss between you and the stranger end. The guy had leaned down to whisper in your ear and then pulled you towards the bar. Before Calum could even think he was making his way from the V.I.P. booths and heading in your direction. Luke had called out to Calum in exasperation trying to stop him from doing something stupid. It was too late though and Calum had disappeared into the sea of people.

 You were laying down on a table shirt lifted up as the Tequila was poured on your abdomen. You smiled in delight as Derrick licked the salt from his hand. He leaned down tongue gliding along your abdomen to lick up the alcohol. Your skin felt hot at the sensation and your back arched off the table when Derrick began to suck at your skin to create a mark. His head lifted and before he grabbed the lime that was rested between the valley of your breasts he shot you a wink. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and Derrick pulled the lime from his mouth as his head dipped back down to lick at your breasts. “Get the fuck off my wife,” the familiar voice growled, yanking Derrick away from you. You quickly sat up in shock eyes widening in surprise at the sight of Calum. 

“What the fuck man!” Derrick yelled, staring at Calum in anger. Clearly Derrick wasn’t expecting Calum to break up his fun and he stared confusedly at the stranger in front of him. “Who are you?” Derrick asked, glancing back over to you to see that you were pulling down your shirt. Calum glared at Derrick, his fists clenching. When he didn’t respond Derrick chuckled, “Look man I got this one in the bag, there are plenty of other fine girls here so why not check them out.” 

“Yeah I get that but that one-” Calum pointed behind Derrick at you, “That one is my wife, so I suggest you go fuck off before I turn you black and blue.” Your eyes narrowed at Calum’s words and you slid off the table. Seeing him now was making you feel all types of emotions. You felt anger towards him but at the same time sadness because for the first time ever you realized the situation at hand. Calum had cheated. For two whole months he had been in somebody else’s bed and the fact that he was angry at you for almost hooking up with another guy was infuriating. You slipped between Calum and Derrick chest heaving up and down. “Baby come home please,” Calum pleaded, “I’m sorry I will do anything to make it up to you just please come back to me.”

“You made your bed, Calum now you have to lie in it,” you said, staring at him with a hard glare. Calum’s head dropped and his hand came up to wipe away his tears. You scoffed at how he was acting and shook your head at him. You smoothed down your skirt and turned back around to see the Derrick had left, preoccupied with some other girl that had caught his attention. You turned back to Calum and rolled your eyes. “Great there goes my hookup,” you sighed. 

“What’s gotten into you?” Calum asked. “Stop this stupid act and let’s work this out please.” 

“No Calum I’m done. I told you from the beginning that I’ve been hurt before. That I had been cheated on and screwed over and then you go and do the same to me like all the other guys,” you snapped, feeling the tears start to well up in your eyes. “What’s worse is that it wasn’t just a boyfriend cheating on me it was my husband,” you sniffled, feeling the alcohol in your veins ignite your emotions. You held up your hand and then deeply sighed. You couldn’t take it anymore. Cheating was the final straw for you when it came to your relationship and Calum had broken your trust, your heart, and he nearly took your dignity. You had to get back to yourself and with your thoughts running wild it had settled on the one thing that could change everything. You sucked in a deep breath and looked Calum straight in the eye as you said the words loud above the music so he could here.

“I want a divorce.”

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Resource Management, pt8

Word Count: 2798 Tags: @supermoonpanda @rayleyanns @sistasarah-sallysaidso @feelmyroarrrr @anyakinamidala @dirajunara @anotherotter @little-study-bug @rampant-salamander @goodnightwife @samaxraph99 @anotherotter  @outside-the-government @kingarthurscat @coyote-in-space @originalpottervengerlock @dolamrothianlady @curiositywillbethedeathofme @superheroesofbothuniverses @mtriestowrite

It was unsettling to process more death benefits. I’d hoped, naïvely, that the injured and unaccounted for would all remain injured. There weren’t a great deal more files to process, but there were enough that I felt the heavy sorrow weighing back down on me again. There were so many casualties from the HR department. I felt a little sick going through them. It was as though the main strike had been in our office. When I was finished inputting the remaining information, I did a quick search of my department. Of the thirty employees, only eight had survived the attack. Not a single one of us was in the department during the attack either. It was a troubling statistic, and I grabbed my laptop and darted into the command centre. It looked like it was just Phil, May and Ward in there, but from where I’d been sitting I couldn’t see the communications screen.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have to see this, Phil.” I plunked the laptop down on the holotable, and the windows I’d had open on the laptop flashed up holographically. I hadn’t been expecting that, and jumped back.

“This had better be important, Ellis.” I looked up at the communication screen and saw Director Fury and Agent Hill glaring at me.

“I wouldn’t have barged in here if it wasn’t, Director,” I snapped. “I’ve been rather busy processing the casualties, and it’s really need to know information anyhow, but I don’t know if you have figured out where the attack started yet.”

“We’re still investigating at this point,” Hill responded. I flicked open a file folder on the holotable, and brought up the list of HR employees.

“As I worked through the updated casualty list today, I saw something very startling to me. Human Resources employees thirty staff at the Triskelion. It’s our main office. Of the thirty staff members, only eight survived the attack on the building.”

“Most of the departments took similar hits,” Hill informed me. I nodded.

“But look at this.” I separated out the on-site staff to the casualty list. Mine was the only name to still be the bright blue of an active employee. “I’m the only person who lived who worked in HR, who was in the building. The other seven employees were at the academy for training. If the attack didn’t start in HR, HR was definitely the target.”

“How does this compare to other departments?” Fury demanded. I brought up the other departmental employee rosters quickly, and flipped them open.

“Payroll has 24 employees. 6 were at the academy. They suffered twelve casualties, so that means six survivors from on-site.” I flipped that folder closed. “R&D has 75 employees. 23 were at the academy, two had called in sick, and they had 13 casualties. Just under half the total department survived the attack. Those are the two departments located the closest to us in HR. Data Analysis had four casualties of 83 employees who were on-site. Medical had even fewer casualties, and the Armory had none. Security and Support Services are the only other departments that came close, and that is understandable, as they aren’t centred in one part of the building. They’re all over the place. But even Security and Support Services didn’t take the same hit as HR.”

“Thank you, Ellis. You did some fine analytical work there,” Fury commended me.

“Sir, I would have thought that Data Analysis or R&D would be more probably targets,” I added.

“That was the general assumption, Ellis,” Hill nodded.

“Again, sorry for the interruption. I’ll be leaving now.” I closed up the laptop and pulled it from the holotable, dropping the images. As I turned to leave, Fury cleared his throat.

“The restructuring of HR may need to be more drastic than anticipated, Ellis. Are you prepared for what may be coming?” He asked. I turned back to look at him, confused.

“Sir?” I asked.

“You will be the director of the department,” he prompted.

“I understand that. I just don’t understand where I ever had a choice in the matter. With all due respect, sir, you told me this was an order. You obviously think me competent enough to manage this restructuring project or you wouldn’t have assigned me to it. With those two things in mind, I don’t understand your question.”

Agent Hill turned away from the screen, but not before I saw her bite her lip. I glanced over at Phil and he gave me a perturbed look. Fury raised his good eyebrow.

“That was all the answer I needed. You’re dismissed,” he barked. I made a beeline from the command centre to the bar, and poured myself a drink. Skye came speeding by from the bunks and dragged me to the stairs above the lab. Before I could ask what was happening, she put her finger to her lips and pointed down. As if on cue, a startled and horrified scream came from the lab.

“Was that Simmons?” I whispered. Skye’s eyes were wide with amusement, and she shrugged. Simmons’ feminine voice floated up to us.

“What was that for, Fitz? You know I’m trying to analyze –“ Her voice trailed off. “Dear god, is that Iron Man? Is he stripping?”

“It was Fitz that screamed!” Skye’s laugh was a muffled wheeze.

“My eyes!” Fitz howled. “Good lord, those are Union flag briefs!”

I shot a look at Skye. She took a few calming breaths.

“I altered the underpants from an American flag to the Union Jack,” she dissolved into giggles again.

“SKYE! I know you’re out here somewhere!” Simmons hollered into the cargo bay. Skye pulled me away from the catwalk edge. I stumbled on the grated floor beneath my feet, and the noise reverberated through the cargo hold. Simmons came out and glared at us. She pointed at Skye and pointed into the lab. Skye had obviously done something to the holotable in the lab to make Tony’s sexy dance play on a continuous loop. We descended to the lab, both of us unable to stop giggling. I’d seen the video in full colour when Stark had sent it to me, but even that couldn’t prepare me for the 3D rendered sexy dancing Iron Man that was bopping around on the holotable. My hands flew to my mouth to stop me from screeching in amusement.

“Fix it. Skye, fix it. I’ve always said you were lovely, and kind. So you need to make this stop.” Fitz turned to us, his eyes wide with horror.

“Will the pranks and initiation garbage stop?” Skye asked, hand on her hip.

“I swear,” he nodded. Skye walked over to the holotable and flicked her hands around a little. Stripping Iron Man vanished.

“Where did that even come from?” Simmons asked.

“Apparently older men have a thing for Anna,” Skye smirked. I furrowed my brow.

“And what exactly is that supposed to mean?” I demanded.

“Well, A.C. is really fond of you. And apparently Stark likes you enough to send you naughty emails.”

“Stark was trying to provoke me because he was going to be in my sexual harassment seminar. He doesn’t like me at all!” I exclaimed.

“Union flag knickers suggest otherwise,” Fitz deadpanned. I glared at him.

“They were an American flag in the original. Which shows how little Stark knows his audience,” I retorted.

“Does Coulson know he has competition?” Simmons teased.

“Hey! Just because you promised Skye you wouldn’t prank her anymore doesn’t mean I get to be the next target!” I protested. “Besides, I have more horrifying movies I can get Skye to hack you with, if I need them. Dancing Iron Man is just the tip of a Titanic-sinking iceberg.”

It was an empty threat, but I dangled that sword over their heads anyhow. Fitz put his hands up in surrender. Simmons crossed her arms across her chest and pouted.

“We never get to have any fun at all,” she complained.

“I thought Dancing Iron Man was lots of fun,” Skye laughed. “I would have stuffed a bill in his pants when he showed up at my seminar. Please say you did, Annie.”

“I did not. I kind of wish I had though,” I laughed. It felt good to have someone feel familiar enough to include me in the jokes. Skye probably had no idea how much calling me Annie mended my grieving heart.

“You woke up four times last night, Anna. Are you sure you’re okay?” Phil had his hands on my shoulders and was staring at me, dead serious. I met his gaze and nodded.

“I will be fine, Phil. As long as there’s a coffee maker, I will be fine,” I assured him, placing a hand on his chest and smiling.

“If these nightmares continue, or get worse, you’ll need to see someone,” he recommended. I raised an eyebrow.

“We can get couples PTSD therapy,” I replied, dripping sarcasm. Phil sighed.

“I am fine.” He was firm.

“As am I.” I stepped inside the circle of his arms, and laid my head on his shoulder, wrapping my arms around his waist. His hands dropped to my back. “I promise, Phil. I’ll be fine.”

“Let me know if there is anything you need.” He squeezed me, and pulled away. I nodded. It seemed ridiculous to be so distraught about being apart from him, but after the past few days, and the week before, it felt strange to be planning a day away from him.

“I will,” I promised.

“I’ll pick you up back here at five,” he said. I leaned back into Lola and grabbed my purse. With a quick kiss on the cheek, and headed down the block and around the corner to the building that was going to be the temporary HR headquarters. Fury was waiting at reception to tour through the new offices. He looked down at his watch.

“I was not expecting you so early,” he opened.

“Sir, lying doesn’t become you. You wouldn’t have been waiting for me if you didn’t expect me,” I retorted and breezed past him. He shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like ‘is it in the fucking job description that SHIELD women here have to be sassy?’ I turned and gave him a look, hands on my hips.

“What?” He asked.

“Peggy Carter was one of the founding members of this agency, Director Fury. Yes, sassy is part of the job description,” I snapped. He had the decency to look just a tiny bit embarrassed. He stepped ahead of me, and showed me through the offices. SHIELD had done a great job of getting the place ready. There were new desks, new computers, a few printers, a giant photocopier, and in the kitchenette, a beautiful, shiny, new chrome coffee maker. Full of fresh coffee. I pulled down a SHIELD mug (Seriously, the goddamn logo was on everything) and poured a cup.

“McKay will be in at ten, and the rest of the department will be here by noon. You have an 0900 meeting, and then you and I will start on the restructuring.” Fury poured himself a coffee as well.

“Is Erin not being considered for promotion as well?” I asked.

“We’ve moved McKay into the deputy director position, but she will not be involved in the restructuring,” he explained. We leaned against opposite counters, drinking our coffee and chatting about most insignificant issues surrounding the office for the next fifteen minutes. Office supplies delivery, timelines to be back into the Triskelion, lunch plans for the staff coming in. Apparently Fury had decided to have lunch catered for the tiny pool of survivors. We refilled our coffee cups, and he led me to my office. The front walls were frosted glass, and in clear relief was the SHIELD logo, and the words ‘Director of Human Resources’. Right below that was my name. I shivered. It was about the same size as the one I’d shared with Erin, but it was mine alone. The desk was bare except for a fancy new clear screen monitor. The bookshelf had nothing on it. It was just a bare, sterile office. I sighed and put down my coffee mug.

Fury tilted his head, and looked toward the front of the office, obviously getting a message from security on this earpiece.

“Stark is here. I’m going to follow up on those items we discussed, and we’ll continue shortly,” he excused himself and disappeared into the office that had been set aside for the new deputy director. I saw Stark brush past the security guard who was trying to lead him to my office, and head more directly toward me. He was wearing sunglasses and a scowl, but when he saw me, he pulled off the sunglasses. Kept the scowl until he was close enough to get a good look at me. He relaxed. No smile, but I saw the tension drop from his shoulders.

“Mr. Stark. Welcome to the new HR office. I hope you won’t be as frequent a visitor as you were to the old one,” I smiled. He finally smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. I gestured toward the chair by my desk. He looked around, unimpressed.

“This room is sterile. Boring. It needs some decoration,” he announced. Before I could respond, he brought his arm from behind his back, and placed a Thor bobblehead on my desk. It was dirty, scratched, and Mjolnir had a chip out of the side of it. I felt my eyes fill with tears as I realized it was my Thor bobblehead. From the Triskelion. I threw my arms around Stark and felt the tears start. He rocked back, startled by my response.

“Oh my god. I can’t –“ I pulled away and dashed my tears. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. How unprofessional of me. How – where – how did you find him?”

Stark smiled and held out what looked like a shirt box. I took it and pulled the lid off. It was my Thor scrapbook.

“There’s an alarming lack of me in that scrapbook. I took the liberty of signing the one news clipping with all of the Avengers in it. I may have also added some information about Iron Man. Suit specs, favourite hockey team, you know, important fangirl information,” he commented. I sat down in the chair I’d offered him and dropped my head into my hands, unable to stem the tide of tears. I reached behind me for the box of tissues on my desk and blew my nose. I looked up at him and shook my head, wiping at the tears.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you doesn’t seem like enough,” my voice broke. “We lost so many people, it’s stupid to be crying over a bobblehead.”

“It’s not stupid, Ellis.” He reached into the inside pocket of his suit jacket and pulled out a bloodstained Captain America card. “This still makes my chest ache.”

“What’s the significance?” I asked, turning the card over. Other than the blood, it was a really nice vintage card. No real wear, no bends.

“It was Coulson’s,” he said. “We’ve suffered a similar loss, Ellis. Keeping the reminders around makes us stronger.”

He dropped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. I met his eyes and saw the empathy in them. I handed him the card back, and put my scrapbook on my desk. I stood, and smoothed the front of my skirt and pulled him into another hug.

“Thank you, Mr. Stark.” My voice was a hoarse whisper. He squeezed me in his arms, then held me at arms length and inspected me.

“Your knees are still a mess. But you’ve cleaned up alright. I just wanted to be sure. There were so many people who are yet to be accounted for. I’m glad you’re okay,” he smirked. “I would hate to have someone else finish my seminar.”

I shook my head and smiled.

“We’ll consider this one completed. I don’t want to have you back for another one, Mr. Stark.”

“Tony. I’ve saved your life. You can call me Tony now. Just try not to scream my name when you’re with your boyfriend,” he winked. “These walls need some décor. I’ll send over a painting. Pepper keeps investing in art. You like Munch? Maybe that’s too dark, considering? I’ll figure something out. It’ll be a loan, you understand, or Pepper will lose her mind, but we’ll make your office a Stark Foundation art gallery location.” He was off on one of the rambling discourses he was famous for as he headed out of my office. He peeked into the other office and waved at Fury before heading out.

[evellyynn7]

That Night pt.2 of Meeting Mr. Wrong

            “It all started on a dark and cold night, November 7th to be exact.” I said very quietly almost regretting doing this. Dean was such a good listener, his eyes looked at me with such compassion as i told the whole story.

          “Lets do something crazy tonight guys!... unless some of you are gonna be little wusses” Steve was looking at us 3 girls, Nancy Wheeler, Barbra Holland... and me. He was of course mostly referring to Barb since she looked the most nerdy out of our bunch, he thought we would be at least a little bit easier to loosen up and i mean that in a dirty way too.

            Billy Hardgrove was there along with Tommy H and Carol. They of course were there to get lucky and wasted while my 3 friends and i were just trying to up our popularity status. “Hey here’s a clever idea, why don’t we play a little game to help these newbies ‘loosen up’ Billy said with a wink to me and his famous smirk. “That may be the only smart thing you’ve said all day Steve” joked. The others laughed and agreed while the rest of were nervous at first but warmed up to the idea while Barb was always against this ‘loosening up’ game.

           “Alright, fuck it, how do you play the damn game” i couldn’t believe i said that, i guess that was just all that naughty that’s been shunned away from my good girl act. “Oooo this pretty little girl has a naughty side?” Billy said this in a shocked but intrigued way. “C’mon Billy just tell us how to play the damn game” Nancy saw how i was learning to just go with it so she followed along. “ Okay book worm don’t get aggressive” Billy said this with less interest and more annoyance of Nancy. “Okay so newbies have to prove themselves to us by doing some dares that are given to you by yours truly” he winked and let out a puff while gesturing to his friends. Steve interrupted fast “So i’ll start with miss wheeler, i da...” Billy cut him off with anger in his eyes. “But my good friend forgot to mention the best part!, if you guys cant complete the dare then you have to strip one item each time” he seemed proud of his lustful command.

         After several halfly and fully covered dares, there laid 4 girls in either just a bra and panty or maybe they still had a sweater or jeans on. I was one of the girls in just a bra and panty but i never felt so alive and bad but i loved it not to mention i was far past drunk. I knew that barb felt uncomfortable the whole time and so did the whole group so they went easy on her and she just had to take off her coat. “Ok so this one is for Liv over there.” Billy said grabbing my hand while I lounged on the chair carelessly with my drunken and half covered gorgeous bod. His eyes lingered and he couldn’t hide his blushing and lustful eyes. This drove me crazy cause he was so handsome and sexy but i didn’t want to get to far, i just wasn’t ready for anything that big. I stood up very unsteady and barb saw that, she came over and told me that we should all go and that she would drive. “I think we all had enough fun why don’t we start heading home, you don’t look to well Liv.” “I’m fine i don’t need you to be a mom right now, why don’t you go you never fit in anyways, and don’t say that i don’t ‘look good’ for all i know your probably just jealous.” I knew right after i said it that i screwed up but it was too late. “ You know what, im done trying to be a good friend, i will go home and good luck trying to get home like that, maybe one of your new ‘friends’ can sober up before driving.” she left in tears running towards the woods. “Whoa whats up her ass!” Billy laughed and began kissing my neck but i just stood there in shock and a dazed confusion.

          Later that night Billy and i had made our way to Steve’s couch while tommy and carol took a spare bedroom and Steve led Nancy to his room. I had a feeling of what was going to happen but i was not in my right mind to fully stop it. He leaned in and starting kissing me slow then it suddenly turned harsh and passionate, i could feel his hands making there way up my thigh and i let out a small gasp. “Hey im not sure i wanna take this that far“ i mumbled against his lips but he ignored me and just kept going further up. I heard a faint scream and broke the kiss. “Did you hear that?” “Hear what doll, the only thing i wanna be hearing is you moaning my name.” he smirked then slowly went in again and then bit my bottom lip slowly. Little did i know that it was barb coming back to drive us home since she was actually a good friend who cared for us regardless and not just someone who was only trying to get in my pants. “ Billy i dont know about this” “Oh cmon your just shy but ill be gentle and then all youll feel will be pure bliss” he then lowered me on my back and made his way down by kissing me in every spot that sent chills to my body so i let go and just went with it.

          The next day Barb wasnt at school and nanc and i just thought that she was just mad at us but as a week went by we were beyond worried untill 2 days ago when we heard about her on the news, thats when our worried hearts turned into broken grieving hearts. The only good thing was that news report landed on a saturday and i could be a wreck the whole weekend and process things before heading back to school. Thats when things got crazy and people started suspecting her best friends and the sad truth was that i knew something others didnt, this slight piece of evidence could make everybody i care about turn on me.

                “And thats how it all went down Dean, I know i sound absolutely terrible but i want justice for barb.” He was looking at me with wide eyes and a dreamy gaze but i couldnt quite make out what he was thinking. “Wow olivia im shocked but so happy you told me, everything will get better from here on out” he gave me a reassuring smile and leaded me back to class and he happened to casually lay his hand on my waist and guide me, then whispered i think you sounded like a strong and beautiful girl for what you had to go through but im also gonna sound like a douche when i say this but im glad you didnt go after your friend cause it might have gotten you too and i wouldnt be able to meet the strong and beautiful girl standing right in front of me.” i blushed like crazy before walking into the class, once again all eyes were on me and Dean noticed so decided to do something about that. He walked in and said, “Every body should know that your classmate Olivia has helped this case tremendously and you all should give her a smile the next time you see her” “ i should be seeing you around miss hopper” he smiled and winked at you in a professional manner but you could tell it was far from that.

                  A week has past and your uncle hopper went away for a couple of days to solve this case with the winchester brothers, leaving you to watch El. Today she went to go hangout with her bunch while you stayed home and catched up on some vampire diaries. *knock knock* i was shocked to hear a knock on my door, maybe my uncle came back early i thought. I get up from my comfy spot and open the door to a pleasant surprise. “Dean!! how are you? we haven’t spoken in a while and i thought you were supposed to be with my uncle” i was confused yet happy since all my memories had been good with dean and i trusted him on something that meant so much to me. “ Well your uncle asked either me or my brother to check up on you and i happily agreed” he flashed his dazling smile and walked in. I sat on the couch and he sat next to me, for the past few hours we caught up and got to know each other on a whole other level, it was like weve always knew each other and time seemed to fly. I showed him my room and my personal things including some secrets. “ Ive always wanted to tell you this but i think your absolutely gorgeous.” he kept his beautiful blue eyes latched on me and leaned in for a kiss.I went in and soon enough we were naked on my bed over heated and satisfied. “You can spend the night” i said smiling at him with my fingers tracing his bare abs. “Im sure theyve got this covered for tonight” he smiled down at me and kissed my forhead, then we fell asleep in an instant.

              The next morning was amazing, waking up to a shirtless sexy Dean was priceless and epecially getting to watch his cute face sleep. He woke up with a smile and said “ Mornin gorgeous, how did you sleep, i know i slept well with you by my side” he pecked my lips “I could say the same” I got up to kiss him more passionalty and put some clothes on in the bathroom but as i was leaving i felt his eyes heavy on my naked body. I shut the door and got dressed but i stayed in the bathroom because i heard my uncle enter my room screaming his head off! Dean was shook and got up fast trying to defend himself while my uncle was saying “I cant belive you!! i practically told you to babysit her for a few hours and i come home to you naked in her bed doing who knows what! time to leave Mr.Wrong, youve helped enough. As i finished getting ready i walked out with shame all over my face and my uncle telling me to go for somebody my own age.

[somevirtualnolife]

Pillow Talk

1374 words

Rating: T (implied sexy times but nothing particularly graphic. Mostly cheesy fluffiness)  Pairing: Mage Trevelyan x Cassandra  Summary: Cassandra and Reagan share a night together at the grove.   Previous One Shot: A Challenge Author’s Notes: Oh hey, all that build-up has finally paid off! A retelling of the romantic first scene between the Inquisitor and Cassandra, using some of the script. I remember getting really giddy during this because it was just so satisfying after all the slow burning flirting that had been going on.  I’m not great at writing romance scenes, but I hope you enjoy!

His lips on mine, speak words, not voiced, a prayer.

Which travels down my spine like flames that shatter night.

His eyes reflect the heaven’s stars, the Maker’s light.

My body opens, filled and blessed, my spirit there.

Not merely housed in flesh, but brought to life.

-Carmenum di Amatus

Despite the clouds in the sky, the moon was large and bright this evening, lighting up the grove below the fortress. Reagan held Cassandra close as they lay naked under one of the blankets, looking up at the night sky. The air around them was cool, but it was welcoming. After all the misunderstandings, the flattery, the banter, and challenges along the way, they were finally here. Together.

Cassandra eventually sat up, looking over at the mountains and trees that surrounded them. It was so peaceful here. Hard to believe that there was such a quiet place in this time of war.

“You’ve got something on your mind,” Reagan said, taking one of her hands into his and stroking her knuckles lightly with his thumb.

“Perhaps,” she replied with a small smile, watching as the mage slowly sat up as well. “You needn’t worry though. I don’t wish to bother you with it,”

“I’m always interested in what you think about,” he said with a bit of a grin, before burying his face into her neck, lightly grazing it with his teeth and then kissing it. The Seeker let out a small gasp and allowed one of her hands to caress his back. It had been a long time since she had been so intimate with someone. She had missed it and wasn’t sure if she wanted to spoil the mood by expressing her thoughts.

“What is it?” Reagan whispered in her ear, his breath warm.

“I’m thinking about the future,” she finally said. “When all this is done, history will say one of two things about me; That I stood at the Inquisitor’s side, his protector and his lover. That it was meant to be,”

The mage lifted his head and then looked at her intently. It was rare for the Seeker to open herself up like this. He wanted to take in every part of it.

“Or… they will say that I was led from that path of faith by the wiles of a madman,” she let out a bit of a sigh. She was no fool. History put you on one side or the other. It wasn’t the most charming of pillow talks, but then again, nothing less should be expected from Cassandra.

“Well, hopefully it’ll be in my favor. I’d rather be the Herald of Andraste, rather than the Madman of Thedas” he replied with a bit of a smirk, his green eyes still looking upon her. “But ultimately, I care very little about what will become of my legacy. What I want to know is what you think, Cassandra. How do you see me?”

Cassandra leaned her head upon his shoulder and closed her eyes. Of course he would answer this way. He seemed less and less thrown off by what she had to say. Perhaps that was a good thing.

“I think that you are a good man. I don’t believe you would go through all this trouble just for one night of passion, no matter how much you enjoy a challenge,”

“I wouldn’t,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and lightly kissing her forehead. “Maker, I read you poetry. I’ve never done that for anyone willingly,”

The Seeker let out a soft laugh. “And what if I make you read more?”

“If the Lady Pentaghast wishes, then it is my command,” he said in his usual, flirty manner.

“I’ll be sure to keep that in mind then,” she responded, slowly opening one of her eyes, having her fingers trailed down the down the middle of his chest, lightly. She certainly wouldn’t object to having more nights with just the two of them, intimate under the moonlight.

Reagan then paused for a moment. Cassandra could sense his hesitancy in what he was going to say next. It seemed that she was not the only doing some thinking. And she had a feeling she knew what he was going to be.

“May I ask about…”

“Regalyan?” she said, finishing his sentence. He seemed a little taken aback, but she had guessed correctly.

“Only if you are comfortable. I… can’t imagine it would be easy,”

“It’s fine. I think it’s only fair for you to know now,” there was a slighty sad, but calm look on her face.      

“Galyan… was a mage, with whom I adventured with when I was still very young,” she paused for a moment and looked back up at the stars. “…He died at the Conclave,”

Cassandra could feel Reagan’s hand around her waist tighten a bit, in reassurance and comfort. She hadn’t spoken about Regalyan with anyone other than Leliana, so opening up like this again… it hurt, but at the same time, she also felt relieved. She had been grieving in privately, hoping no one would notice. But no matter how tough she tried be, how much she tried not to let it affect her duties, it affected her. Maker, how it hurt and ached. The man that she had loved for so long, taken from her so suddenly.

And then Reagan Trevelyan showed up just as suddenly. The mysterious man from the Fade. The Herald of Andraste. But most of all, another annoying, flirty circle mage. Were all circle mages insistent on flirting with her? She never could understand it. Didn’t they know what a Seeker’s job was? Idiots.

If that was the case, was she an idiot as well for falling for them?

When she first started responding to Reagan’s advances, she feared that it was a sign of her vulnerability; that the flutters that she sometimes felt around him were just a way to cope with the loss of Regalyan. Just like pain, these feelings would eventually pass. They had to.  

But they never did. The more she was with the Herald, the more she felt herself drawn to him. Reagan was a man, capable of things she didn’t think possible. It inspired her, but also frightened her by how drawn she was to him. If she allowed this to happen again. To care for another in this time of uncertainty, she wasn’t sure if she could handle the possible pain that would come along with it.

“His death was why I hesitated to be with you. I couldn’t bear to think of Corypheus taking another person I cared about. You already almost died at Haven,”

“But I didn’t, Cassandra,” Reagan replied, squeezing her again.

“But you could’ve, Reagan. Even if you are the Herald, you are still mortal. Please remember that,” she looked at the mage with stern eyes, the strong determination that she always had when she wanted the Inquisitor to take her seriously. “I can’t have you die. I won’t allow it,”

Reagan looked at her for a moment, surprised, but it then changed until a small smile appeared on his face instead. She knew that look. Or she felt that she knew it.

“What’s so funny?’ Cassandra frowned. He always did that when he was planning something, or found something amusing at her expense. “I’m being serious, you know,”

“I know,” Reagan’s lips brushed against hers as he ran his fingers through her short, black hair and then down to the scar on her cheek before tilting her head slightly and kissing her firmly, sending warm sensation down he Seeker’s spine. She felt her body go weak and placed her arms on his chest for support.

“I love you,” he breathed. “And I promise you, that Corypheus will never take me away from you. Not after all this,”

Cassandra felt her cheeks go red.

Love...

Her stern face vanished again, a small smile forming instead as well. She wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in for another kiss and pushing him back down on the ground. He was right. They had gone through so much together. They were allowed to be in love. She was allowed to be in love.        

“I believe you,”

[maximum-rewrite]

Chapter 2

You thought this was just a better-written version of Patterson's books, right? Whoops. You were wrong. No, this story exists to tell you what really happened. Hold on to your seatbelts, friends. We're expecting some turbulence.

Okay, that’s it. I am sick of writing that garbage. It is too sappy and idyllic. Too human.

‘But Max,’ you might say, ‘I read the published version of this, and it all goes downhill pretty soon here.’

Look, I read Patterson’s version of this too. I know what happens in the books. And let me tell you a thing: compared to reality, those novels look like Candyland.

We thought he would be a good person to tell our story because he’s such a prolific and well-known author. People eat his writing up. So we told him the basic premise of our story, sketched it out for him as much as we could (obviously we didn’t want Itex to kill him for knowing too much), and advised him to take a little bit of creative liberty for the sake of plausible deniability or whatever. Then we skedaddled and let him take it the rest of the way.

Well, he screwed it up. Badly enough that I’ve decided to take this into my own hands.

I’m not a writer, so don’t get too crazy about the technicalities here. This does not exist to entertain you or let you escape to some nice gentle bunny world. I just… I need this. We need this.

As long as this book exists, there is proof that we did too.

My dreams usually aren’t dreams, they’re memories. My brain does not want to create new stuff; all it can do is relive past experiences. Which honestly sucks a lot, since my past isn’t something I’m particularly interested in seeing every single night, but that is the way it is: reliving over and over.

Except this one. I know this one could never happen in real life.

It’s the same dream that is in the book. I’m running, running, running, but not to provide data or to increase my stamina. In the dream, I run because I am trying to escape. Then the Erasers corner me, and they seem like they actually want to kill me. Not kill me in a murderous-instincts-bred-into-them way, but actual orders to get rid of me. And then I’m flying away, and they can’t catch me.

Yeah, that’s a real laugh. It gets even funnier in a sick way if you psychoanalyze it (which, by the way, Patterson tried to do before I told him where to stick it).

I’ve only been able to come up with that one fictional dream since Jeb died.

Jeb is the one who got us out of the School and brought us here. ‘Here’ being an estate hidden away in the Rockies. Here we learned to fly and to fight. Everything we know about history and society and logic and practical skills, Jeb taught us. He took us away from the testing and labs and exhaustion and pain, and then he taught us how to be self-sufficient. He freed us.

And then, two years before the start of all this bru-ha-ha, he disappeared. When he did not come back, we assumed he died. We didn’t grieve. We simply moved on, not wasting our time and energy on something we could not gain from. Just like he taught us.

Everything was more or less dandy at this point, which is where you guys enter. That’s where Patterson started, that’s where I’m starting, because that’s when everything fell apart.

Fang and I woke up at dawn to go sparring. We did it every morning, bringing one of the others along with us once each week to train them. Once every cycle, however, there was a day when it was just the two of us.

Daybreak struck early in the summer, and we lived on the east side of a mountain, so the sun already hovered on the horizon when we reached our practice clearing. I took a deep breath of the clean air as I stretched backward and heard the soft sounds of Fang doing the same. For half a second I let myself slip into a reverie, wondering why I could hear mating calls so late in the year. The male had to be awfully—

Wham. Reverie, broken by a feathery clubbing. Man, wings hurt. There was a lot of muscle in those puppies. I staggered forward a step, wrapping my brain around what happened. Fang, wings extended, just met my glare calmly. Actually, he looked kind of annoyed.

“Hey Max, that isn’t why we’re out here.” I wished I had justification to retort. But I didn’t. He was right. But then he kept going. “If you slack off, soon I’ll be better than you.”

I dropped my knees into a crouch and opened my wings, spreading my feathers out to their full span. “Oh yeah? Really think you can get one over on the one and only, first and greatest?” Fang just smirked.

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’ve gotten better in the last week.”

He didn’t give me a single second to switch gears before launching himself at me. I ducked to dodge the fist flying at me and found his knee waiting for my jaw down below. Stars popped in my vision. A beat of my wings propelled me away from him, but the moment my feet touched the grass again I was throwing my weight back toward Fang. I pummeled into his abdomen with my head and we both went down. I tucked my wings back and rolled away before he could grab me.

Fang shifted onto his side facing me, his eyes narrowed. Just like he’d done to me before, I met his glare with a cocky smile.

“Who’s the best again?” I crowed.

Lightning fast, his handful of dirt whipped out at me, throwing debris in my eyes. Before I could react he was all over me, trying to wrestle me down. I put up a fight and clipped his ear and cheek with my fist, but size won out. For now. When my vision finally cleared he was on top of me, pinning my chest and wing with his knees and my throat with an elbow. He was also smirking like he'd won. Cocky bastard.

I popped one of my eyebrows, skeptical of his supposed victory. He had me underneath him, but Fang himself wasn’t very stable, and he’d left my arms free.

His forehead twitched an instant before I moved. I mustered all my strength to jerk my wing and chest, destabilizing him enough to shove him off. I followed him over and grabbed at his body while he was winded, wrangling him into a hold he would have a hard time escaping unless he broke something.

Even though the tussle left me breathing heavy, I had to gloat after all the smack he talked before. “Better luck next time, buddy. They didn’t improve this model until Nudge.” He grunted his assent.

With that urge delightfully satisfied, I finally let him go. We both stood and dusted ourselves off, picking pine needles from each other’s feathers.

Oh!, I almost forgot. I gotta clear up some misconceptions you might have from the books about our physiology.

One of Patterson’s creative liberties was to portray us as very normal. I don’t mind – it makes us more marketable or relatable or whatever. If I’m telling you the honest story though, with no holds barred for the shitty stuff, then I’m also not going to sugarcoat us.

Short version: we ain’t human, friends.

Slicing, dicing, and recombining genomes to make a chimera doesn’t really work. You end up with a monstrosity halfway between both species and usually in a lot of pain for as long as you keep it alive. It is definitely not possible to make something that is totally human except for wings. The Flock was built from the ground up. Our genomes are completely customized to have the best of everything, but the scientists weren’t that concerned with appearances as long as we worked. Unless we try to blend in on purpose, it is pretty obvious that we aren’t standard kids.

You’ll get a better sense of what I mean as we go along. The biggest thing to know is the wings.

They’re big, somewhere in the vicinity of three times our height in length. Each of us was designed to look like a certain bird – I’m a golden eagle, Fang is a raven, Iggy’s some sort of seabird, etc. etc. Our wing shapes and feathering look like our bird-y cousins’.

We maintain our feathers like hair. If we don’t, it can be difficult to fly or just plain uncomfortable. We preen each other a good amount to reach those annoying middle-of-the-back spots. It’s kind of intimate. I guess if every person had wings it would be considered something romantic or sexy, but for us it’s useful and necessary.

So Fang and I wrapped up our training with our feathers preened, cleaned, and fluffy. We chatted while we walked back home for breakfast.

“Hopefully Iggy actually took some initiative this time and made breakfast without us telling him to,” Fang muttered, his voice dry. I couldn’t help but agree.

“Yeah, no kidding. I was thinking, I want to see if we can brush up on flight as a group today. We haven’t been out in a while.”

“Sure, sounds like a good idea. I know Angel still isn’t very good at—” He broke off mid-sentence, suddenly falling dead silent and stopping in his tracks. I paused too and reached a hand out to tweak his forehead.

“Still in there?”

“Shh!” he hissed. The look in his eyes seemed pretty serious, so I shut up and listened for whatever Fang was hearing.

My heart dropped into my stomach at the quiet thrum of helicopter blades growing louder as it approached. Helicopters never came up here – that’s why it was a good place for us to be. The noise echoed off the mountains surrounding us so much that I couldn’t tell where it was coming from, and then suddenly it was in our field of vision just across the valley.

“Did you see what type it was?” Fang asked. I nodded. Our eyes met and without saying a word we agreed on what had to happen. Flying through the trees was too risky and above them too visible, so both of us took off running toward the house.

When we busted through the door, the rest of our flock was already sitting down at the table. Our arrival triggered four identically confused faces.

“… Max?”

“Were you guys seriously that excited for breakfast?” Nudge asked.

It smelled like pancakes. I mentally cursed the stupid helicopter for ruining an excellent morning.

“We need to get out of here,” Fang explained. Again we were met with confused looks.

“Get out of here?”

I finished swearing just in time to offer one sharp word: “Helicopter.”

That elicited some new reactions, ranging somewhere between fear and confusion. Iggy was more on the frustrated end of the spectrum. “You’re sure it’s not someone who got lost?” I shook my head.

“It was an unmarked transport chopper. This isn’t just some weekend rental that went off the map.” Whoever manned or sent this thing knew what they were doing. They almost definitely were not here for fun, and there was only one un-fun thing that could be considered business around these parts: Us.

“These guys are here for a reason. We can’t just hunker down until they go away. We need to be smart. Leave your stuff. Iggy, get rid of breakfast evidence – we’re getting out of here.”

Jeb told us we could never be caught. Anyone who found the Flock wouldn’t even think twice about sticking us in cages at a zoo or a laboratory.

He was the one and only human who hadn’t seen us as lab rats or spectacles to ogle. He was the only one I would ever trust not to abuse us. Whoever was in that helicopter was no exception to Jeb’s rule and my personal rule – never trust someone outside the Flock.

Each of us perched ourselves in the branches of a tree nearby the house, like so many panthers watching silently from the canopy. Fang made our house look disused while I checked that everyone was secure. I left Angel and Gazzy together in spot, and found Iggy last.

“You’re in charge while Fang and I go check things out, got it?”

“No way!” he protested, leaning toward me with a scowl. “I’m coming with you guys.”

“You are not.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Iggy,” I sighed. “Dude, you can’t do reconnaissance very well if you’re blind.”

A kind of pained, kind of pissed look crossed his face. He wasn’t born blind – somebody jacked up an experiment on his eyes, and he lost vision permanently. The scientists wouldn’t have let that kind of imperfection survive if we’d stayed. Iggy had been slated for elimination before Jeb busted us out.

“You’ll be able to hear someone coming better than the others. You are the best early warning system there is, and we will need that if they manage to find us. Capiche?”

He was still scowling, but he nodded. Fang came out of the house then, and I glided down from the treetops to meet him.

“Ready?” He nodded.

Jeb paired each of us up and trained those pairs together. Fang and I were partners in that training. With no speaking or motion signals between us, we could fly in perfect synchronization. We did that now, skimming the tops of the trees together. Each of us silently scanned the ground on our side as we flew toward where we thought the chopper would be. For a while, neither of us saw anything other than the trees. I saw a rabbit.

Then a little trill from Fang made me look over at his side. At first I thought he was pointing out the glint of metal through the trees – the helicopter itself. When he banked and I followed, though, I saw what he really signaled for, and my whole body felt cold.

Winding through the trees was half a dozen men carrying various equipment. But not just any men. Not just normal men. Everything about them was predatory, feral. These were not people.

They were Erasers.