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Guide to Spencer Krug’s (Many) Projects

Before I start this post, I should mention this was my final project for my Music Appreciation class and I've basically just reformatted the paper for Tumblr. Also I have never used Tumblr before so please bear with me... Thanks, let's get to it now!

Introduction

Spencer Krug is a Canadian musician mainly known as a singer, songwriter, and keyboardist, though he occasionally plays the piano, guitar (both acoustic and electric), synthesizer, accordion, bass, and kick drum.[1] His first instrument was the piano, which he started playing when he was 12.[2] By the age of 15, he already had a drum set, guitar, bass, amps, and an organ in his bedroom. Around that time, he mainly listened to Fugazi and Sebadoh.[3] Some of his other influences are David Bowie, Jeff Buckley, The Velvet Underground, Leonard Cohen, Erik Satie, Rachel Grimes, and Dan Bejar.[2] [4]

Spencer Krug first attended college in Vancouver where he “screwed around in arts and humanities,” before doing a few years of music school in Vancouver, then at Concordia University in Montreal.[3] There, he studied music composition and creative writing until he dropped out.[5] He has been part of six bands, as well as releasing solo work under the alias Moonface and his own name. Through these projects, he has contributed to nearly 30 releases,[1] which can make it difficult to decide where to begin listening to his extensive discography.

The intent of this post is to break down each of the projects he’s taken part in to (hopefully) make it easier for people to decide which project they’d be most interested in listening to. This post will include general information on each project as well as a description of how their releases generally sound, their similarities to other projects, and their differences from other projects.

Two Tonne Bowlers[6]

Years Active: 1994

Members: Jeffrey Allport, Kent Reimer, Norm Wickett, Scott Marshall, Simon Culver, Spencer Krug, Tom Reimer, Tony Bobbit

Releases: Mantifiluss (1994)

Genre: Reggae

Style: Ska

Two Tonne Bowlers is the first band Spencer Krug was ever in, but consequently the band there is the least information on, as he was part of it while in high school, when he was around 17. Spencer Krug was the keyboardist of the group; the other members played guitar, electric bass, trombone, saxophone, and the drums.[7]

As the band’s name indicates, their music has a two-tone ska style. Two-tone music is Jamaican ska and reggae music mixed with elements of punk rock music,[8] so Two Tonne Bowlers is one of the bands Spencer Krug contributed to that sounds furthest from his later indie rock projects, especially since Two Tonne Bowlers lacked certain punk rock elements, such as distorted guitars.

Mantifiluss is, in my opinion, the most playful and cheerful-sounding music Spencer Krug has put out. It feels like something to dance to without having chord progressions or lyrics that make you ponder complex concepts, unlike many of his other works. Another difference with other bands he’s been in is that he usually sings nearly all or a good part of the vocals, yet he doesn’t sing any of the vocals on Mantifiluss, apart from on the album’s 9th “hidden” track.[9]

Fifths of Seven[10]

Years Active: 1995-2005

Members: Beckie Foon, Rachel Levine, Spencer Krug

Releases: Spry from Bitter Anise Folds (2005)

Genre: Instrumental

Style: Modern Classical, Post-Rock

Fifths of Seven was formed in 1995 in Montreal,[11] but Spencer Krug didn’t join until around 2004-2005 when Rachel Levine and Becky Foon received a grant from the Canadian government and hired him as a third member.[12] Together they wrote their first and only album, Spry from Bitter Anise Folds, which was recorded in 2005 at Breakglass Studios.[11] The group is made up of Beckie Foon as the cellist, Rachel Levine as the mandolinist, and Spencer Krug as the pianist and accordionist.[13]

Although Spencer Krug has composed other instrumental songs, this is the only fully instrumental album he has worked on. Vocals and lyrics usually have an important role in Spencer Krug’s other releases, but the cinematic melodies in Spry from Bitter Anise Folds’ are able to tell the stories lyrics would. The droning cello, sparse to robust piano, and somber mandolin create a melancholic and fragile atmosphere.[14] No single instrument dominates the music, as each instrument takes turns leading and accompanying throughout each piece. The unusual combination of these instruments gives this chamber music an Eastern European folk music sound.[15] Although this group’s sound is vastly different from Spencer Krug’s Indie Rock bands, there are similarities in the way the songs are on the more experimental and avant-garde side of their genre.

Frog Eyes[16]

Years Active: 2001–2018, 2022–present

Members: Carey Mercer, Melanie Campbell, Shyla Seller, Dante Decaro, Grayson Walker, John Paton, Matt Skilling, McCloud Zicmuse, Megan Boddy, Michael Rak, Ryan Beattie, Spencer Krug, Terri Upton

Releases: The Bloody Hand (2002), Split w/ Jerk with a Bomb single (2002), Emboldened Navigator EP (2003), The Golden River (2003), Ego Scriptor (2004), The Folded Palm (2004), The Future Is Inter-Disciplinary or Not at All EP (2006), Tears of the Valedictorian (2007), Frog Eyes / Hello Blue Roses single (2008), Paul's Tomb: A Triumph (2010), Carey's Cold Spring (2013), Pickpocket's Locket (2015), Violet Psalms (2018), The Bees (2022)

Genre: Rock

Style: Indie Rock, Alternative Rock, Avantgarde, Art Rock, Experimental

Frog eyes was formed when Carey Mercer and Spencer Krug happened to meet and play guitar and organ in someone’s basement. They didn’t know each other well but both needed roommates, so they decided to move in together along with Carey’s wife, Melanie Campbell. They didn’t discuss forming a band; Spencer Krug playing Carey Mercer’s songs with him and Melanie Campbell happened naturally because they were living together.[12] Micheal Rak, a band member from Carey Mercer’s previous band, also joined the group and together they recorded The Bloody Hand and the Emboldened Navigator EP in 2001.[17] Carey Mercer played the guitar, Spencer Krug the keyboard/piano, Melanie Campbell the drums, and Michael Rak the bass.[12] Shortly after recording their first album, Spencer Krug left the band when he moved to Toronto for college, then later — in 2003 — Montreal, where he ended up forming Wolf Parade. He reunited with the band in 2006 and recorded The Future is Inter-Disciplinary or Not At All EP and the Tears of the Valedictorian album.[17]

On the album and EP recorded in 2001, the bass playing and the drumming were simple while the guitars were chaotic, and Spencer Krug was “able to lay [his] patterns somewhere in between all of that,” as he explained in a Last Donut of the Night interview. Carey Mercer was the songwriter, and Spencer Krug didn’t modify the structure he wrote but he did add things to it.[12] Carey Mercer’s songwriting heavily influenced Spencer Krug’s own songwriting, which feels most obvious when listening to Sunset Rubdown.[18] Around the time he was first playing with Frog Eyes, Spencer Krug wrote some of his own experimental music and messed around with computer programs like Logic Audio. Much of this music turned into early Sunset Rubdown songs that he put out himself once he was in Montreal.[12] One of the songs from Sunset Rubdown’s first album “Sol’s Song,” even became a song on Frog Eyes’ The Golden River, “A Song Once Mine Now No Longer Mine.”

Frog Eyes is also similar to Sunset Rubdown in their songs’ unconventional structures and lead singers’ powerful vocals. However “powerful vocals” is an understatement when it comes to Carey Mercer’s vocals which are as full of energy as they could be and filled with screams, yelps, and growls. But his striking vocals don’t make the rest of the band any less important to its sound; Melanie Campbell’s pounding drumming, Spencer Krug’s twinkling keyboard, Carey Mercer (and in 2006, McCloud Zicmuse)’s chaotic guitar(s), and Michael Rak's grounding bass are all essential to bringing each song together.[19] As for Frog Eyes’ lack of discernible structure, the songs’ messiness allows the ideas and feelings behind the music and its lyrics to truly shine.

Wolf Parade[20]

Years Active: 2003–2011, 2016–present

Members: Arlen Thompson, Dan Boeckner, Hadji Bakara, Spencer Krug, Timothy Kingsbury, Dante Decaro

Releases: Wolf Parade EP (2003), Wolf Parade EP (2004), Wolf Parade EP (2005), Apologies To The Queen Mary (2005), At Mount Zoomer (2008), Semi-Precious Stone single (2010), Expo 86 (2010), EP 4 (2016), Cry Cry Cry (2017), Thin Mind (2020)

Genre: Rock

Style: Indie Rock, Progressive Rock, Post-Punk Revival

Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner met in Victoria, British Columbia when they were both working at the same pub to make ends meet.[21] When they were both living in Montreal in 2003, they formed Wolf Parade along with Arlen Thompson and Hadji Bakara. The band was started when Spencer Krug was called to play a show opening for Melon Galia and Arcade Fire but he had no band. So he called Dan Boeckner and they wrote songs with a drum machine playing through computer speakers to have something for the show. About a week before the show, Spencer Krug offered Arlen Thompson to play a show that Saturday. They rehearsed as a full band the day before and the day of the show.[22] For that first show, they were only a trio, but the band was later made up of Spencer Krug as the lyricist, vocalist, and keyboardist; Dan Boeckner as the lyricist, vocalist, and guitarist; Arlen Thompson as the drummer; Hadji Bakara as the keyboardist and thereminist; Timothy Kingsbury as the bassist; and Dante Decaro as the guitarist and bassist.[23] Wolf Parade went on an indefinite hiatus in 2011, but reunited in 2016 and released their fourth album, Cry Cry Cry, in 2017.[24]

When Dan Boeckner was asked to describe the band’s sound in a Montreal Mirror interview not long after the band started, he explained that “ostensibly, we're just making folk music without any of the musical connotations of folk music.” Their sound was influenced by their lack of budget (and therefore limited equipment); they used keyboards because they didn’t have the funds to buy other instruments — initially, Dan Boeckner didn’t even have a guitar.[25] Sub Pop noticed the band and signed a contract with them, giving them a much bigger budget for Apologies To The Queen Mary than the 20 dollars they recorded their EP with.[26]

Their first album, Apologies To The Queen Mary, was an immediate success, and although they had all been in bands before, they had never had this level of popularity until then.[21] The album’s writing and singing are split evenly between the two frontmen, Spencer Krug and Dan Boeckner. The two have distinct styles and consequently were different in the music they wanted to play, so they both had to make compromises to make cohesive albums.[27] Apologies To The Queen Mary is the most cohesive of all their albums, while later albums let each members’ own elements and styles stand out more.[28] Hadji Bakara and Spencer Krug both play keyboards, but in very different ways, according to Spencer Krug in an Exclaim! interview, “Hadji is one of the only elements of the band that's always variating,” while “Dan and [him] work in locked-in patterns.” Dante Decaro, as the second guitarist and fifth member, has more freedom to experiment within the songs musically.[26] And Arlen Thompson’s exuberant drums fill the songs with energy and set the mood when starting off songs, such as in “You Are a Runner and I Am My Father’s Son.” Although Wolf Parade is the least experimental indie rock band Spencer Krug has been in, they still find ways to make familiar rock elements come together in an interesting way in each of their songs.

Just like one of Sunset Rubdown’s songs from their first album had ended up on a Frog Eyes album, another song from their debut album, “I’ll Believe In Anything You’ll Believe In Anything,” ended up on Wolf Parade’s debut album as “I’ll Believe In Anything.”[29] Listening to the two versions side by side really makes the differences between Wolf Parade and Sunset Rubdown clear. Wolf Parade’s “I’ll Believe In Anything” is more harmonious and polished, but to be fair, Sunset Rubdown’s first album is their most experimental and least polished — not that it’s a negative thing.

Sunset Rubdown[30]

Years Active: 2005–2009, 2022–present

Members: Camilla Wynne Ingr, Jordan Robson Cramer, Michael Doerksen, Nicholas Merz, Spencer Krug, Mark Nicol

Releases: Snake's Got A Leg (2005), Sunset Rubdown EP (2006), Shut Up I Am Dreaming (2006), Random Spirit Lover (2007), Introducing Moonface single (2009), Dragonslayer (2009), Always Happy to Explode (2024)

Genre: Rock

Style: Indie Rock, Alternative Rock, Art Rock

Sunset Rubdown’s first demos and album started as a solo project for Spencer Krug to have more freedom making experimental recordings. Spencer Krug explained in a Last Donut of the Night interview that he would “do shit like put pieces of paper between the hammers and the strings so it sounded insane.” Then he’d pull a sample from that and “pile it up into a weird shape on the screen, press play, and listen to what it sounded like. [He]’d build a two-dimensional pyramid out of a three-second sample,” to create songs.[12] Along with its experimental nature, the production (especially on earlier tracks) is very lo-fi, because Spencer Krug didn’t have any funds just like on Wolf Parade’s early EPs. The solo project that was Sunset Rubdown turned into a band in 2006, and what was once an exploration of sound and textures became an exploration of lyrics and structure.[31] The band members’ roles have varied depending on the album, but Spencer Krug has played the piano, keyboard, synth, acoustic guitar, accordion, and kick drum; Camilla Wynne has played the keyboard, omnichord, q-chord, and percussion; Nicholas Merz has played the bass and drums; Jordan Robson Cramer has played the drums, electric guitar, keyboard, and percussion; Michael Doerksen has played the electric guitar, bass, synthesizers, and drums; and Mark Nicol has played the bass and drums. All the members apart from Jordan Robson Cramer and Mark Nicol have sung some of the vocals, but the lead singer is Spencer Krug and Camilla Wynne is usually the one who does the backing vocals.[32] After releasing and touring their 2009 album, Dragonslayer, Sunset Rubdown went on an indefinite hiatus. In 2023, Spencer Krug had a dream that the band were back together and having fun. When he woke up, disappointed that it was a dream, he decided to email the members, and they all replied that they were willing to try getting the band back together. So they started with hanging out and making music, then relearning their old songs, then doing a reunion tour in 2023, and finally — after 15 years — making and releasing a new album.[33]

Progressively through each record, Sunset Rubdown’s music has become more put together and polished. The first album, Snake's Got A Leg, was curated from lo-fi bedroom recordings Spencer Krug had made in the early 2000s.[34] For their second album, Shut Up I Am Dreaming, the band reworked some of the songs from their debut album as well as writing new ones, and each song sounded more complete. But as Spencer Krug put it in an Exclaim! interview, the album was more of a “hodgepodge of songs than a fully realised album.” This changed in their third album, Random Spirit Lover, which was completely cohesive as a whole. Before recording the album, the band had already decided on the track list and they recorded it in that order, refusing to record a track until the previous one was finished.[35] Spencer Krug’s imaginative and storytelling lyrics particularly shine in this band, especially on theatrical-sounding songs like the ones on Random Spirit Lover. Random Spirit Lover was very elaborate musically and had a heavily overdubbed instrumentation,[35] so they decided to go another direction for their fourth album, Dragonslayer. Spencer Krug had an objective to write songs better so that they could stand alone and be played on anything, and that is clear when listening to Dragonslayer. In 2009, Spencer Krug explained in a Drowned in Sound interview that he felt the band was “at the pinnacle of complexity, and to make it creatively interesting, the next logical thing to do would be to take things away.”[31] After their hiatus, Sunset Rubdown released their fifth and latest album, Always Happy to Explode, which does sound less complex and musically busy than the previous records. The tracks on Always Happy to Explode were originally songs Spencer Krug had posted on his Patreon as solo work until Sunset Rubdown had a reunion tour and rewrote the songs together. But using some of Spencer Krug’s solo songs didn’t make the process of writing the album any different; all Sunset Rubdown albums have been songs that Spencer Krug wrote on piano or guitar and then brought to the rest of the members to arrange and add on to them as a band.[33]

Sunset Rubdown’s two most recent albums have more of a progressive rock style — closer to Wolf Parade — than their earlier albums which sound more experimental and artsy. Still, the two bands are quite different; Spencer Krug compared writing with both in an Exclaim! interview, “The band in Sunset Rubdown has the ability to be quieter than Wolf Parade and be more patient… I know that Sunset Rubdown can be more dynamic. We can play more sorts of twisty song structures and let it prog out a bit more without losing patience. And Wolf Parade just blows things out. Even when I write a quiet song on the guitar and take it to them, a month later I'm banging it out on the piano as hard as I can. And that's what Wolf Parade does well, so you might as well just go with it, right?”[35]

Swan Lake[36]

Years Active: 2006–2009

Members: Carey Mercer, Daniel Bejar, Spencer Krug

Releases: Beast Moans (2006), Enemy Mine (2009)

Genre: Rock

Style: Indie Rock, Experimental

Spencer Krug formed Swan Lake with two old friends, Carey Mercer of Frog Eyes and Dan Bejar of Destroyer and the New Pornographers. They had already been collaborating for years when the band formed, with Spencer Krug being an on-and-off member of Frog Eyes, and Dan Bejar picking Frog Eyes as his backing band for Destroyer album Your Blues, touring with them, and recording an EP with them. Additionally, Spencer Krug was roommates with both. First with Dan Bejar in the late 90s, then he moved to Victoria, met Carey Mercer, and became roommates with him in the early 2000s, around the time they started Frog Eyes. It was during the Destroyer/Frog Eyes Europe tour that they all played together and that the idea to make an album together first came up.[37] Throughout their two albums, Carey Mercer played the electric guitar, keyboard, and drums, Dan Bejar played the electric guitar, Spencer Krug played the keyboard, drums, and bass, and they all sang vocals.[38]

Each of the members wrote their own songs — having the chord progression, main vocal melody, lyrics, etc., complete — before recording them together.[39] Though compared to Sunset Rubdown, Spencer Krug tried to keep his ideas very loose so that the other two could fill in the gaps. Because the lyrics came from three different people, they had to unify the albums through the instrumentation.[38] At first, none of them were sure how to approach the project, until they decided to just go into the recording room and sing with an acoustic guitar. Once they had the tracks, Spencer Krug and Carey Mercer did the instrumentation, arrangements, and mixing. Initially, they considered Melanie Campbell as the drummer, but after watching the early sessions, she decided not to join the group. So to create the drum line, they recorded each part of the drums individually and put it all together during the mixing. “It makes for a pretty jerky drum track…it’s quite unsettling,” Carey Mercer commented in a PopMatters interview.[39]

Although Carey Mercer and Spencer Krug are often compared, especially because of their voice, they both feel like their aesthetics are quite different. Carey Mercer explained in an interview from Exclaim! that he has “this idea of weaving 20 different melodies, and [Spencer] wants everything to turn into one very cohesive whole,” and he especially likes “the parts on the record where you can feel all of [their] wills murking about.” In the same interview, Dan Bejar describes Carey Mercer as having “a kind of total disregard for melody, and a total insistence on it at the same time.”[40] Dan Bejar believes his strengths are in his lyrics and delivery of them but that he lacks any kind of musical sophistication, while Spencer Krug thinks his strengths are in his sophistication with the music and instruments but that he can’t write lyrics as poetically as Dan Bejar, and Carey Mercer feels that he equally works on both.[39]

Swan Lake’s first album, Beast Moans, was weavings of each of the members’ styles, often creating layer upon layer of various melodies and stylistics, sometimes creating a dissonant sound. On the other hand, their second album, Enemy Mine, is more stripped down which makes the melodies clearer, and it has a more deliberate approach to their collaboration.[41] This more stripped-down sound is most noticeable when comparing the song “Paper Lace” on the Enemy Mine album and the version on Sunset Rubdown’s Dragonslayer, where the instruments are a lot more prominent and feel more dense.

Moonface[42]

Years Active: 2010-2018, 2022

Alias: Spencer Krug

Releases: Dreamland EP: Marimba and Shit-Drums (2010), Organ Music Not Vibraphone Like I'd Hoped (2011), The Way You Wish You Could Live In The Storm single (2011), Moonface With Siinai – Heartbreaking Bravery (2012), Julia With Blue Jeans On (2013), City Wrecker EP (2014), Moonface & Siinai – My Best Human Face (2016), This One's for the Dancer & This One's for the Dancer's Bouquet (2018), The Minotaur Instrumentals (2022)

Genre: Rock

Style: Indie Rock, Experimental, Avantgarde, Electronic

As Moonface is an alias Spencer Krug recorded solo work (apart from the collaborative albums with Siinai) under, I’ve combined the paragraphs on it and his other solo work below to avoid having two very repetitive sections.

Solo Work[43]

Years Active: 2019-present

Releases: Fading Graffiti (2021), Red Dress / Nightswimming EP (2021), Twenty Twenty Twenty Twenty One (2022), I Just Drew This Knife (2023), 20202021 Solo Piano (2024), Patreon songs (2019-present)

Genre: Rock

Style: Indie Rock, Art Rock, Post-Rock

While he has contributed to many bands, Spencer Krug has also created music by himself throughout the years. The earliest solo work he released was Sunset Rubdown, but the project later turned into a full band.[12] From 2010 to 1018, he released home-recorded instrumental and conceptual experimentations under the alias Moonface. After moving from Montreal to Helsinki, he recorded two albums with Finnish band Siinai, Heartbreaking Bravery and My Best Human Face.[44] But after releasing seven records as Moonface, Spencer Krug decided to release his solo work under his own name for a number of reasons, which can be summed up as that he felt the name created self-made misrepresentation.[45] Since 2019, he has released three solo albums as well as monthly new songs on his Patreon.[43] His solo work has mostly been played on the piano, keyboard, synthesizer, or electric guitar, and he also sometimes adds digital drums, strings, or other effects.[46]

Under the moniker Moonface and his own name, Spencer Krug feels more free to release works that wouldn’t fit the expectations people have for his other projects. He explained this in a San Francisco Examiner interview, “There are certain parameters that are expected out of certain bands. And it’s not just record labels or audiences or critics who place expectations. I’ve been guilty of playing to expectations. I don’t have to worry about that with Moonface.”[47] Even though he usually keeps his solo work more simple, this leads his releases to have much more variety in styles and sound. It also sometimes creates unexpected shifts between albums with, for example, Julia With Blue Jeans On being a solo piano and voice album, then with his next release, My Best Human Face, being an album recorded with another band (Siinai) and that has a more post-rock style, and then a more electronic and experimental album, This One's for the Dancer & This One's for the Dancer's Bouquet (which is actually a mix of two separate projects),[45] as the release after that. Another difference between his solo work and his other projects is that his solo songs usually have more literal and straight-forward lyrics, unlike projects like Sunset Rubdowns where songs are filled with figurative language.[27] On the other hand, his solo work is similar to Sunset Rubdown in the way that he has often reworked songs for both projects. He explained his reasoning behind reworking songs in a Beats per Minutes interview, “I think songs can change their impact, can change so much based on their instrumentation and the way they’re arranged for an instrument. And I find that really interesting. And then sometimes I find the two results will both be so strong that it’s worth sharing them both.”[33]

Conclusion

I hope this guide has been informative! Although I’d highly recommend listening to all of his projects, I hope this post will inspire you to listen to at least one of them. And if you’re already a fan of Spencer Krug, I hope you’ve learned a couple new things about his projects.

If this paper (especially the last two sections) looks rushed it's because I did the entire thing the last 3 days before it was due. Also if you spot any mistakes, please correct me.

Sources

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35. Thiessen, Brock. “The Weirdness of Sunset Rubdown.” Exclaim!, 16 Sept. 2007, exclaim.ca/music/article/weirdness_of_sunset_rubdown.

36. “Swan Lake (2) | Discogs.” Discogs, www.discogs.com/artist/605693-Swan-Lake-2.

37. “Swan Lake Preps Debut Full-Length on Jagjaguwar.” Force Field PR, 6 Aug. 2006, www.forcefieldpr.com/2006/08/06/swan-lake-preps-debut-full-length-on-jagjaguwar/.

38. mmmbarclay. “Swan Lake: Spencer Krug.” radio free canuckistan, 17 Nov. 2006, radiofreecanuckistan.blogspot.com/2006/11/swan-lake-spencer-krug.html.

39. Kelly, Jennifer. “All for One and One for All: An Interview With Swan Lake.” PopMatters, 17 Jan. 2007, www.popmatters.com/all-for-one-and-one-for-all-an-interview-with-swan-lake-2495785739.html.

40. Barclay, Michael. “Three Men On Swan Lake.” Exclaim!, 15 Feb. 2007, exclaim.ca/music/article/three_men_on_swan_lake.

41. “Swan Lake.” Jagjaguwar, jagjaguwar.com/artist/swanlake/.

42. “Moonface (2) | Discogs.” Discogs, www.discogs.com/artist/1747096-Moonface-2.

43. “Spencer Krug | Discogs.” Discogs, www.discogs.com/artist/605695-Spencer-Krug

44. “Jagjaguwar::JAG222.” Jagjaguwar, 2013, jagjaguwar.com/release/jag222/.

45. “Jagjaguwar::Moonface.” Jagjaguwar, 2018, jagjaguwar.com/artist/moonface/.

46. Krug, Spencer. “Spencer Krug | About.” Patreon, www.patreon.com/spencerkrug/about.

47. Examiner Staff. “Spencer Krug’s Moonface Steeped in Empathy, Piano.” San Francisco Examiner, 18 Nov. 2013, www.sfexaminer.com/culture/spencer-krug-s-moonface-steeped-in-empathy-piano/article_7b87ad5f-9577-5f77-9d41-a3b00cf07747.html.

#spencer krug #wolf parade #sunset rubdown #two tonne bowlers #fifths of seven #frog eyes #swan lake #moonface #dan boeckner #carey mercer #dan bejar #music recs #indie rock #how obvious is it that im hyperfocused on spencer krug #btw i met him recently and told him about this paper and he told me to apologize to my professor for him

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struggle-but-its-all-ocean-floor · 2 years ago

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AAAH. J-Hope's On The Street performance made me emotional. He looked so natural performing, I was so proud of him. I think this type of music and natural styling fits him really well. He added a Korean rap verse I've yet to read the translation of but it was cool. The song is so chill and I like it better without Cole' verse - at least without half of it, since I like part of his verse but not the part about religion and the fact that it's so long. But why did they show Jay Park so much during OTS? I may be prejudiced against him but the dude looks so fake.

More was so cool too. That guitar was insane. The band was amazing! J-Hope dancing and vibing on stage during Arson was so cool and cute. And that guitar and drums solo was crazy good. J-Hope's crazy good as well. This was my favorite solo performance of his yet, it was so good.

Wait, he also performed Dynamite and Butter. The tropical remix fits the hip hop choreo well. His energy was amazing, but they filmed Jay Park and the audience too much and we missed a lot of his dancing. I was honestly a bit bored by the Dynamite + Butter performance since there was little singing and it was more vibes. It was a weird choice to perform the Holiday remix in March but it fit very well. It was a good performance that got the audience going, but I don't care for the new choreo and think it's weird to perform a song without singing most of it. I prefer it when he just performs his solo songs.

Aaaaand he also performed CNS. Cool as always, but why did he give a shout out to Jay Park? Why did he do that to Becky and all women?

Did I miss another performance? I wasn't expecting so many songs!

#bts #jhope #hoseok #text

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gangrenados · 3 years ago

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K this is kinda complicated but if Jay asked if you wanted to see a dick pic and was intending on sending just a pic of his brother, and you were like "nah fucker I'm at work,"

He would send one out of spite-

Oh he's such a little bitch, I can see him resting on your shared bed shirtless and wearing some comfortable sweatpants as he scrolls down his phone without much interest.

The day has been so boring without you, having some free time in his hands and a fairly amount of wounds that restricted his movements felt like a punishment.

Jason sighed exasperated at his own boredom.

[Hey wanna see a dick pic 😈] he sent mindlessly once he noticed you'd be having a break from work. Jason has pulled this old joke on you so many times that he has purposely archived the worst pictures of Dick, his brother, just for the sake of annoying you.

Jason hummed and drummed his fingers in his tight while waiting for your answer, his brain was doing the hard task of thinking what ugly picture he will send you this time; perhaps it would be the one where Dick was asleep with his mouth open and drool running down his chin. He looked awful in that one.

[Nope fucker, I'm at work] Jason gasp at your response, taking it personal.

How can you deny a dick pic?, that was low.

"So that's how things are, huh? Okay." Jason whispered to himself as he sit right on the bed, looking at your message for a few more seconds before putting his hands on action.

He rubbed his hands against his clothed member gently but with the enough pressure to work himself while he looked for a porn video good enough to make him horny.

Jason might not be in the mood but when his mind is onto something there's no way he's not going to get it.

"Fuck, where is the good shit?" He hissed as he lowered his sweatpants to have more access to his half hard cock.

Jason pumped it slowly, taking his time to rub the red tip with his thumb before going down to the base again. He was starting to feel that nice warmth, and it soon it mixed with excitement since he had found the perfect porn for this situation.

The person in the video was sucking cock while having a vibrator at wrecking their pussy and making them moan and sob as they sucked with tears running down their cheeks. It was basic, but that thing that made Jason stay was the fact that that person looked too much like you.

"Agh yes, fuckk" Jason moaned your name like a pray, speeding up the pace as he threw his head back in pleasure.

"This must be enough" he groaned as he stopped jerking off, the lack of friction felt like torture but once in a while people need to make sacrifices.

You were chatting with a coworker when your phone rang again, you were absolutely sure that it was Jason fucking around again. He always acted that way whenever he's away, and maybe this time it would be a stupid and old meme that he discovered.

However, what you got was quite different and your eyes wide open at the sight of Jason's clothed hard member being grabbed by his big hand.

[But I need you, baby :( ] that was the caption and you needed some time to recover.

"Motherfucker!" You whispered with mild alteration as locked you phone.

"Is that your boyfriend?" You turned your head to your coworker, not knowing what to expect. She sipped casually from his mug before saying without hesitation." He's packing! The things I would do with a dick like that..."

"Shut up, Becky."

#smutty #Jason todd smut #Jason todd imagine #Jason todd x reader

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house-of-slayterr · 2 years ago

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I forgot To Blink:

Part 2 of Blinky’s backstory for @myers-meadow-selfship

Cw: A tiny bit of ableism and verbal abuse, nothing too graphic. (Not me making this a vent fic 🤪)

Blinky’s POV:

We’d been sitting in this musty van all day, Jay insisted on smoking weed without opening a window. I could feel the slight buzz of a second hand high hitting me. But I stayed quiet, not like they would listen anyway. Darla was sat next to me and my brother by her side.

She finally womaned up and asked him out, and I have to say, I don’t know what she saw in him. But he was a little nicer when she was around, and I was grateful for that. Becky was fiddling with the radio, paying whatever popular garbage was current. And Jay drummed his hands against the wheel as he hummed along.

I could feel that familiar dooms day feeling crashing over me. It happened anytime a place got too loud or too stuffy. I thought I was doing a good job at hiding it, but I guess I screwed that up too. Darla turned to me and squeezed my hand lightly.

“You good?” She whispered.

I shook my head.

“Hey Jay, you think we can stop for some fresh air? I’m getting a little cramped back here.” She asked.

I was thankful she didn’t throw me under the bus. It confused me how someone so kind could be attracted to my brother. He barley even paid attention to her when they were together, unless they were making out or having sex. I doubt he even knew her favourite colour. It was obvious it was purple, she wore it almost everyday.

“We’re never gonna make it to the damn beach if we keep stopping.” My brother snapped.

“Relax dude, we need some gas anyways. We’ll just stop up ahead and you can get us more beer yeah?” Jay said.

It was typical the person driving got to make the decisions on a road trip. Or so I’d read. My brother just grumbled. We pulled into a desolate little stop. There were only 4 gas pumps, and the pavement was sun bleached. It’s the type of place you’d typically want to avoid. But right now I would walk face first into a sharks mouth if it meant getting out of this damn car.

I watched as Jay took the keys out of the ignition and stepped unbuckled. He was about to open the door when I spoke up.

“You can’t pump your own gas here, you’ll get a fine.” I warned.

“Oh, thanks.” He said simply, hopping out and heading toward the door to go get someone.

But before he made it across the parking lot, someone was already on their way over. They probably don’t get a lot of visitors. The man had an odd appearance, at least for a day job. He kinda looked like a clown, and I giggled slightly to myself.

“What a freak.” My brother commented.

Reminding me of my already sour mood. He grabbed Darla’s hand and dragged her inside. I followed behind and left Becky in the front seat. Last thing I needed was to be trapped alone in a conversation with her. Talking with her was made me want to smash my head into a brick wall. She only cared about material things, and skin care. One more comment about how I’d look nicer if I just put on some mascara and I was going to rip out all my eyelashes just to spite her. Being seen as “pretty” served me no interest, I didn’t want to attract boys, or any attention really.

I shuffled into the gas station, looking around. It seemed like some sort of gift store, one stop shop combo. Guess it made sense, there wasn’t much for miles. Best to be the store that has everything so you make all the profits. I could feel eyes on me when I entered. I could always tell when someone was watching, it gave that uncomfortable feeling that made your skin crawl. I believe that was what people were referring to when they talked about “goosebumps”. Emotions were hard for me to understand, no one could ever explain them to me.

I tried to ignore it, still calming down from the anxiety of travelling somewhere I didn’t know. I don’t even know why my brother brought me along. I hated the beach and everything it brought with it. The hot sand, the salty water, the slimy stones or seaweed or little fish that caught you off guard. Not to mention the shallow boys doing stupid things to impress girls, but really it’s just a show for their friends. And the half naked girls throwing themselves at any guy with a little muscle. It simply wasn’t my scene. But Mother always insisted I go along with him, hoping I’d make a friend and stop being her problem. That’s all I ever really was to them, a problem.

My eyes landed on some colourful packaging and I stalked over to it. They were sour gummy worms! I loved sour Candy! In my excitement I seemed to forget who I was in the company of a si approached the counter. My brother yelled at me in annoyance and stomped after of the store after paying for his beer. Darla followed after him like a puppy dog. I looked through my pockets to see if I had any money left. Jay left his wallet in the car at the last dinner so I paid for dinner. I had just wanted to leave. I sighed when I realised I didn’t have anything left. My money for the entire trip wasted. As I was about to put it back, the man from behind the counter held out his hand. I looked at him confused.

I attempted to explain to him I didn’t have enough money and was just going to put them back. But it seemed like he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Why was he being so nice? It wasn’t a very smart business move to sell a product for less than it was worth. By the looks of this place, they weren’t making enough money from stray tourists. I sighed handing him my necklace. He could think of it as a tip, he seemed like a hard worker. I gave a tight lipped smile before I walked back to the car.

My brother was behind the wheel now and it seemed he was eager to leave this place. I watched as we pulled into an old rundown motel. I stayed behind as they talked to the receptionist and got the keys. I leaned up against the side of the van.

“The fuck are you laying around for? Get the bags in the room!” My brother snapped, tossing me the key.

I didn’t waste any time, knowing I could rest soon if I got it done. I heard Becky’s ear piercing laughter as I struggled to drag the last bag inside. Despite the no smoking sign on the outside of the door, Jay had already lit another joint and was passing it around the room.

“Thanks for bringing in our bags.” Darla said.

At least someone appreciated my efforts. I slumped down against the wall in the back corner.

“Wanna hit?” Jay asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but my brother beat me too it.

“Don’t waste your good weed on them man. They wouldn’t even know the difference.”

Jay just shrugged, taking another hit. I tuned out the noise as I slumped back against the wall. This corner wasn’t too bad, at least the carpet was kinda soft. There were two queen beds, and it made sense the couples would get them. I just prayed they had the decency to not get all handsy in their cross faded stupor. I could ignore casual conversation, but Becky was a loud moaner, well she was loud all around. But if I had to over hear her shagging Jay one more time, I was going to pull a Van Gogh and cut off my ear. Fuck it, might even become a hermit too, it beat this bullshit.

We were interrupted by a knock at the door.

“Fran-“ my brother began.

“Already on it!” I snapped.

I shouldn’t of felt bad, he deserved it. But I hated when my overstimulation ruined the mood.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“Babe, just drop it.” Darla plead.

Had to say, this was the one time I was thankful she was pulling him in for a kiss. As long as it kept him quiet and attention off me. I opened the door to see a girl standing there. She was quiet pretty, and I liked her cowboy hat.

“Nice hat.” I said, before I could even stop myself.

She giggled.

“We’ll hey there cutie!” She smiled at me.

I couldn’t help but blush, no one had ever called me cute. Not even when I was a baby, my mother always said my brother was the cuter offspring. Something about me not looking right when I came out. She said my fucked up head showed on the outside. It seems I got distracted because she giggled again.

“You ok there sugar plum? You’re redder then a life guards nose.”

I was utterly embarrassed.

“People do often forget to put sunscreen on their noses.”

“You’re funny, I like you.” She said.

“Frances, who the fuck is at the door?”

I groaned. I saw a slight shift in her face, but I couldn’t discern it. I wasn’t all that good at reading people.

“Well I was just about to tell this sweet little thing here that all the restaurants in town are closed for the night. You met my brother down there at the station, and my Mama suggested I invite you folks over for some dinner. Ya must me starving after all the driving.”

She gave a dazzling smile.

“Oh, that’s kind of you.” Darla commented, trying to decline in a polite way. “But I think we’re alright.”

“Ya sure, Mama’s awful excited to have some guest. We don’t get many visitors round here. It be no trouble at all.”

But she wasn’t talking to Darla, she was looking right at Jay. I rolled my eyes slightly when I watched his fall down to her chest and move back up to her eyes.

“I could eat!” He said.

“Better than these chips.” Becky agreed. “Besides this idiot been drinking all afternoon, don’t want to wake up in the middle of the night to him puking cause he went to be on an empty stomach.”

Darla showed some apprehension, but agreed none the less. “I guess I am sort of hungry, babe?”

“Hope your brother has better table manners than he does customer service skills.”

“Then it’s settled, you folks follow me.” She said.

“I don’t believe we got your name, I’m Jason.” Jay shamelessly flirted.

I never understood how someone could do that right in front of the person they supposedly “loved.” But it seems that’s something I would never understand.

“You can call me Baby, Sugar, everyone in town does.”

The glare plastered on Becky’s face wasn’t surprising. I followed up the back, letting them handle the bulk of the small talk. Baby kept stealing glances at me and I couldn’t tell for the life of me why. I just kept my gaze on my shoes. The house was just as run down as the store, if not more. But it had good bones. Must have been made sometimes in the late 1800’s by the looks of it. A little paint and it would be good as new.

It smelled nice when we entered, whatever Baby’s mom was cooking smelt lovely. I relaxed a little, glad to be back out of the Texas heat. As I leaned against the door frame, I sent another smile smile to the man from the store. It was actually kind of nice to see him again. I sat down next to Baby as dinner was served.

A smile smile graced my face as I listened in to the dinner talk. Everyone was actually being pleasant for once. And our hosts accents were smooth and buttery. It felt homey, well, more like the opposite of home. And I guess that’s what I liked about it. I noticed they took a liking to pet names, throwing them out every other sentence. My head grew a little heavy, but I suppose it was getting kind of late. Suddenly Jay collapsed into his food. I starred at him bewildered.

I mean I head of people passing out after smoking too much weed, but that seemed dramatic. I once realised that wasn’t what was happening when the others looked as confused as I was. No, not confused, sacred. Becky looked horrified. But more importantly my brother looked livid. I couldn’t even comprehend half the things he shouted at me. I watched helplessly as one by one his friends fell, but he was too focused screaming at me to care. I was seconds away from having a meltdown but I tied my best to stifle it. I could feel my brain slipping away into dissociation.

As if to answer my silent prayers, the man from the gas station smashed a bottle over his head. I couldn’t stop the trembling before it started. I was so confused and upset and nothing made sense right now. And I could feel all eyes in the room on me. Baby said something to break the silence but I couldn’t really comprehend it fully.

My medicine? What did they give me? My brain felt sluggish and slow, but I couldn’t help by lean into her warm touch. It was so gentle, unlike anything I’d ever known. Despite my best efforts my eyes closed and all the sounds faded away.

I woke up in a bed. The events of last night came rushing back to me and I shot up. I was still wearing yesterdays clothes. I threw the blanket off to see my shoes were still on. I took stock of myself, I didn’t notice any new scrapes or busies. I wasn’t bleeding, I didn’t wake up in an ice bath with my kidney missing. So things could certainly be worse. I crept my way over to the door and tried the handle, but it was locked.

Of course it was locked, idiot. Everyone was just drugged by a bunch of strangers. But why? I wasn’t hurt, but perhaps it was foolish to assume the others were as fortunate. I heard footsteps from down the hall and ran back to the bed, throwing the blanket over my head and slowing my breathing. I’d done it thousands of times before, when I didn’t want my mother to know I’d stayed up passed my bed time. I heard the click of a door opening.

“Aww, they’re still sleeping Otis, look.” Baby whispered.

All I could hear was a grunt in response from the man who was supposedly Otis.

“It should have warn off by now.” He said.

“Maybe they’re just tired, poor thing looked like they hadn’t slept in days. Their eye bags made them look like a racoon.” She giggled.

“Baby, what are you doin?” He asked.

“I wanna play with my new friend Otis, stop being such a cocksucker.” She hissed.

I felt the bed dip and then a hand on my shoulder, shaking me ‘awake’. I decided it was best to play along and slowly opened my eyes, feigning a small young.

“Good morning sleepy head!” She greeted cheerfully.

“Cool it with the volume Baby, christ they just woke up. People don’t want to deal with you barbie personality first thing in the morning.” He jabbed at her.

“It’s ok.” I said softly.

She glared at him almost as if to say “you see, it’s fine.”

“How ya feelin? Sorry things got a little… intense, last night.” She said.

A little intense, what at odd way to recount last nights events. I decided I didn’t want to beat around the bush.

“Did you- did you kill them?” I asked.

Otis stiffened at this, uncrossing his arms from his chest and almost instinctively moving to block the door. Like he’d done it a thousand times before.

“Sure did Puppy! Your little friends weren’t so friendly.”

“They weren’t my friends.” I corrected.

She raised her eyebrow at me.

“You called them my friends, they were my brothers friends.”

“Oh, so then that piece of shit is your brother.” Otis said.

“Is? Not was…”

“You got a brain on you kid, yeah, fuckers still alive. Much to my distaste.”

“How come?” I asked curiously.

The two shared a look between them. What, did I say something wrong? I was always saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and getting in trouble for it. I mentally prepared myself to be scolded.

“You know, I give Otis here shit all the time, but brothers ain’t supposed to be like that.” Baby said.

“They aren’t?”

I looked to Otis to see him frown and shake his head.

“He like that all the time?” He asked me.

I nodded. “He was actually on his best behaviour yesterday. He nice in front of people.”

“Nice?” He scoffed. “Your brother wouldn’t know nice if it bit him in the dick!”

I giggled a little at that. I liked Otis, he was funny.

“You think that’s funny?” He asked.

Baby was smiling at me and I couldn’t help but blush again. It was odd to have so much positive attention on me.

“It’s a little funny” I admitted shamefully.

Otis dropped his guard a little, moving closer to the bed.

“Are you going to kill me?” I asked sadly.

I mean I suppose if anyone was to do it, I’d want it to be them. They were so nice, maybe they would make it quick. Suddenly Baby’s hands were on my face, gripping my cheeks.

“Don’t you ever say something like that again! Of course not you sweet baby. Why would anybody ever what to hurt a cute little thing like you?” She said.

Her tone was sweet, but her hands were forceful. I could tell I upset her and I wanted to cry. I really didn’t mean to.

“I’m sorry, I always fuck these things up, my brother was right.” I said.

Otis sat on the other side of me on the bed.

“Nothing out of that gutter trashes mouth is right, ya hear? The fuck did he tell you?” He sounded angry too.

I held back my tears, starring forward at the wall, afraid if I blinked they’d finally fall.

“He and Mother always said no one would ever love me because I’m Autistic. I make everyone uncomfortable and I do things that aren’t right. I don’t understand a lot of things, and it’s really hard. But I promise I’m trying.” I said.

Their silence was the loudest thing I ever heard. It made my skin crawl and my ears hot. I just wanted them to say something, anything. Even if it was just them changing their minds. I get it, I’d just be a burden anyways. I jumped slightly when Baby touched me, expecting her to grab my arm harshly. But instead she just pulled back and sighed.

“I’m going to fucking kill that shit for brains.” She muttered.

“Look, kid-“ Otis started.

I turned to him, giving aggressive eye contact. I didn’t mean to, I just didn’t know where else to look right now. I watched him tense and internally cringed. Great job proving your point dumb ass.

“Your brothers an idiot. Shit, I’m pretty sure Baby here has what your fancy city doctors call ADHD-“

“Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder?” I asked, my interest piqued.

“Was that even English?” He asked.

“Yes.” I said, confused.

“That was a joke- I. Point is, seems to me like your plenty lovable. Shit, ya got me over here feeling bad and shit. And that ain’t easy. We’re not gonna let anyone hurt ya Kid. Fuck, we need a name for ya!” He groaned in frustration.

“How bout Blinky?” Baby pipped up, her chipper mood returning.

“The fuck did you just say?”

“Cause they don’t blink. Think I’ve only seen em blink twice since they opened those pretty little eyes.” She giggled.

“Oh, sorry.” I said.

A few tears finally fell when I closed my eyes and I groaned. I hated crying, my tears were always hot and they burned my skin. I frustratedly wiped them away with my sweater sleeve.

“Aww shit Sugar, don’t cry.” Baby said.

“I’m not, they just do that sometimes.” I said.

She giggled once more. Apparently a noise she made quite frequently. But her laugh wasn’t annoying like Becky’s, so I didn’t mind all that much.

“I- I like Blinky.” I said seriously, giving her a small smile.

“Then it’s settled! Spaulding already agreed you could stay. Course, he said I gotta take care of you. But I’m so excited to have a little sibling finally! We’re gonna have so much fun together Blinky Firefly!!” She squealed.

She pulled me into a tight hug, and I stiffened.

“Alright, release them you python.” Otis joked, “don’t think they can breath.”

“Oops.”

“Welcome to the family Blinky. Not sure I can say the same for your blood, he’ll be gone by morning you just say the word.” Otis offered.

“I think I’d like that, yes.” I answered honestly.

“You’ll fit in just fine here.” He said, ruffling my hair before leaving the room.

“Go easy on em Baby, don’t want to scare em away.”

He made his leave. She grabbed my hand and started dragging me to the door.

“Where are we going?” I asked.

“Can’t be a Firefly looking that that, let’s get you cleaned up.”

I certainly had a lot of change to get used to. But somehow it didn’t seem so scary. I think I’ll like it here.

An: Not sure if Texas specially fallows the gas rule, but for the purposes of the story we’re going to not fact check me on that, lol 😂 Also, I want to make it very clear that I don’t think any of these things about Autistic people. These are just things I’ve heard as an autistic person.

#house of 1000 corpses #captain spalding #baby firefly #otis driftwood #mama firefly #rob zombie #blinky #Blinky firefly #self insert #autistic oc

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alinaandalion · 2 years ago

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👀

from a partially finished leverage: redemption fic in harry's pov where both maggie and tara show up.

He finds Sophie sitting at the bar much later that night when he ventures downstairs to make some tea. He uses the guest room less now that Becky is mostly living with him, but he’s found that he prefers staying at the team’s headquarters when she’s with her mom. He’s sure the others have figured out why he stays when he does but no one has brought it up. She turns on her stool to face him when he hits the bottom of the stairs, and he hesitates until she smiles and nods her head to the stool beside her. He shuffles over to her, tightening his robe, then settles on the second stool to her right in order to leave some space between them.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he ventures first, lacing his fingers together on top of the bar to keep from drumming them against the wood.

Sophie shrugs and glances down at the glass in front of her as she says, “Just thinking. What about you?”

“Not really. Thought some chamomile tea would help.” He watches as she takes a small sip of bourbon, the blue hoodie jacket she wears sometimes slipping off her right shoulder and revealing bare skin that is momentarily distracting until he drags his eyes away and refocuses. He clears his throat and says, “I am sorry about earlier today. I wasn’t trying to trick you or anything.”

She snorts, and he looks up at her, startled, sees her eyes shining with amusement as she says, “Of course you weren’t. And I’m not angry about it. It’s been so many years that it had almost slipped my mind.”

“Which is why it so easily slipped out,” he replies without thinking, and he would try to take it back except she laughs softly in response.

“Fair enough,” she murmurs, lifting her glass in a mocking toast before taking another sip and setting it back on the bar. “Regardless, I’m not embarrassed about any of my past relationships. I just don’t always share all the details.”

He nods and leans over the bar to grab his own glass, pours a small splash of bourbon. It might not be the tea he came down for but he supposes it counts as a proper nightcap.

He drinks some before asking, “This might be too personal, but it wasn’t…weird to, well, have a fling with her?”

Sophie leans her head on her left hand, her lips quirking into a small smile as she says, “Not particularly. Why would it be?”

“Well, because she and Nate…and then you and Nate,” he splutters, a flush creeping up his neck as she keeps staring at him.

She finally rescues him. “Nate and I weren’t anything at the time, Harry.” When his brow furrows with his confusion, she shakes her head and says, “I forget that we don’t really talk about our past as a team in a way that makes much sense.”

“Want to help me out here, then?” he asks before knocking back the rest of his bourbon.

“It’s too late to get into all of it, but the important part is that we ran a disastrous job on IYS and briefly split up, came back and completed the job with some assistance from Maggie, but the damage was done. So we went our separate ways. My brief time with Maggie was after all of that.” Sophie is still looking at him, but her eyes have gone shadowed and distant.

He thinks he has room to ask one more question, so he does. “Damage?”

Sophie sits up straight, her gaze drifting down to the bar as she says quietly, “Mine, actually. I deceived them for good and bad reasons.”

This new piece doesn’t fit with what he knows of her, what he sees with the team, their unshakeable faith in Sophie. It’s not the first time he’s been faced with the fact that Sophie used to be a different person, but it’s disorienting still to be reminded that she has a past he knows very little about.

“They trust you now,” he ventures, and Sophie smiles in response.

“I know they do,” she murmurs. Then she shakes her head and says, “I think you’ll be less confused about why I was interested in Maggie once you meet her. She’s an amazing woman.”

He just nods his head and waits for Sophie to finish her drink before sliding off his stool and offering his arm to her. She smiles when she wraps her left hand around his elbow and lets him lead her up the stairs to her room where she gives him a quiet good night before disappearing inside and he’s left to go back to the guest room on his own.

find the ask post here.

#ask meme #fanfiction #my writing #leverage #leverage redemption #leverage: redemption #harry wilson #sophie devereaux #(yes this also leans into harry/sophie #there is no limit to my shipping abilities in one fic)

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howufeelinbecky · 3 years ago

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overpriced coffee && tedious routines // open

@c23starters

becky hated the dumb, overpriced coffee at the steam room but it was either this or the burnt, cold old coffee from the madison & madison civil rights law office - so she found herself here day after day. it wasn’t like becky was specifically a coffee connoisseur. she was not going to talk your ear off about the subtle difference between arabica and robusta beans. she wasn’t particularly interested in how the heating process could change the coffee’s flavor or the proper way to store beans to avoid flavor disruption. in fact, she couldn’t tell the difference between an expensive cup and a mcdonald’s iced coffee. (and she loved mcdonald’s ice coffees, for reference.)

but there was something so specifically bitter, so recognizably distasteful about this coffee that had becky rethinking the four dollars she spent on it every time she came. becky, however, was never quite good at abandoning a routine, even one detrimental or boring, so she found herself day after day, returning to this coffee spot. it was close enough to the office for her to sneak away without feeling like she was missing too much work, and every now and again she needed a break from the hum drum of the office.

#food tw #tw food #⌜ interactions ⌟ ✧ . * . ˚ tell me what you want what you really really want #c23starters #c23starter #lmao it took m e a year to write this but im finally going to get active on here #also im still working on task 1 lmao #I tried to make this starter open ended enough so anyone can take it where they like

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expectingtofly · 4 years ago

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Angel in A Hoodie

~1.5k

also posted on ao3

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover said the world needs more cas in oversized hoodie fics and i wholeheartedly agree, so enjoy some fluff, pining, and comfy!cas :)

“We really need to buy you an umbrella,” Dean said as he and Cas walked into Goodwill. He glanced at Cas, whose hair was still wet and plastered to his forehead from getting caught in the rain. His trenchcoat looked dark beige now, it was so soaked through, and water dripped onto the floor with his every step.

“I didn’t realize it was going to storm,” Cas said, his tone defensive. His shoes squeaked as he quickened his steps to walk next to Dean. “I wouldn’t have gone out to the woods if I knew.”

They had driven that morning to investigate a werewolf sighting in a town a few hours away. While Dean talked to the police chief, Cas went into the woods where the supposed werewolf had been spotted. It’d begun to pour rain, Dean had learned the werewolf was nothing more than a rabid wolf, and Cas got drenched for nothing.

Cas was leaving behind a trail of muddy footsteps, and Dean caught one of the employees giving them a dirty look. He smiled at her apologetically and she stalked away, probably to grab a mop. “All the dark clouds in the sky didn’t give you a hint?”

Cas shot him his own dirty look and Dean raised his hands. “Sorry, sorry.” He couldn’t help grin, though, at how bedraggled and grumpy Cas looked. Almost adorable—not that he would ever think Cas was adorable.

He hesitated for a moment, then lifted his hand to wipe a drop of rainwater from Cas’ face with his sleeve. Cas leaned into his touch and Dean tried to ignore the way that simple shift caused his heartbeat to quicken. “Maybe we should’ve bought you a towel first,” he said, dropping his hand.

Under normal circumstances, he might’ve argued in favor of Cas sucking it up and wearing the wet clothes—and that was not at all influenced by the way Cas’ white shirt was now see-through and sticking to his chest. He didn’t notice that at all, thank you very much. But they had a two hour drive ahead of them and sitting in wet clothes wouldn’t be very enjoyable. Seeing as neither of them had extra clothes packed, and Cas’ grace was too depleted to waste it drying himself off, Goodwill it was.

“Okay, pants are that way,” Dean said, pointing to a rack of clothes. He headed down another row where a sign read, Men’s Shirts. “I’ll grab you a shirt.”

The selection was sparse, and Dean scanned the rack before grabbing a t-shirt at random. A drawing of a man holding a fishing rod; the words, Mine is So Big I Have To Use Both Hands, emblazoned underneath.

Nope, nope, nope, Dean thought, shoving the shirt back on the rack. They were not that desperate. He didn’t want to have to explain that one to Cas. He selected instead a plain, light blue t-shirt, belatedly realizing he was choosing one to match Cas’ eyes.

At the squeak of shoes, he turned to see Cas walking over with a pair of jeans and what looked to be a grey hoodie, holding them away from his body so they didn’t get wet.

“This good?” Dean asked, holding up the shirt.

Cas nodded and reached out to touch it. “I like the color.”

Dean reddened. “Yeah, uh, great.” He took the jeans and hoodie from Cas. “Come on, let’s buy this stuff and get on the road.”

After paying, Cas went into a changing room to get out of his wet clothes. Dean was texting Sam to let him know they would be heading back soon, when he heard the sound of the changing room door open. “All good?” he asked, without looking up.

“I don’t think I picked the right size.”

Dean looked up from his phone to see Cas standing in the doorway wearing a massive grey hoodie. The sleeves hung down past his hands and the hem nearly reached his knees. Cas stared down at himself in disbelief and Dean stifled a laugh. “Yeah, I’ll say so."

“It looked so much smaller on the hanger.” Cas lifted his arms out to the sides—the fabric dwarfing his body—then dropped them with a frustrated huff.

“Well, at least you’ll be warm.” Stepping forward, Dean motioned to Cas, and Cas extended his arm, watched him roll the sleeve up to his wrist. “And everyone will think you’re part of a softball league, so there’s that.”

Cas frowned. “What? Why?”

Dean pointed to the purple text across the front of the hoodie which read, Wissahickon Softball League, along with a cartoon depiction of some sort of rodent in a baseball cap.

Cas sighed. “I liked the chipmunk.” He scowled at Dean. “Don’t laugh.” Dean bit back a smile and Cas let him roll up his other sleeve. “It is very comfortable, though. I like this store. I think it’s very considerate of humans to share their clothes.”

“Guess so. Though ideally you would wash them before you put them on.”

His hands now free from the confines of the hoodie sleeves, Cas put his wet clothes in a plastic Goodwill bag. “Who do you think wore these clothes before?”

“The hoodie? I’m going to assume a softball player.”

They walked to the doors leading outside and Cas pulled at the fabric of the hoodie to look at the design. “I wonder why they got rid of it.”

“Maybe they died.”

“That’s very dark, Dean.”

Pushing open the door to outside, Dean shrugged. “Alright, maybe they decided softball wasn’t their passion and quit, and are still very much alive. Speaking of which, we should go to a baseball game. You would like it.” He could picture it now: Cas's serious questions as he tried to understand the human pastime, his excitement as he completely missed the point and found some meandering way to connect it to a deeper, philosophical meaning.

Cas nodded thoughtfully. “That does sound interesting. I would enjoy that.”

They crossed the wet and shining parking lot to Baby. The rain had slowed to an icy drizzle and Dean hitched his shoulders to stop it from running down his neck. Cas blinked against the raindrops and Dean gestured to him. “Use your hood.”

"Oh." Cas pulled the hood up over his head, then slipped his hands into the wide pocket along the front of the hoodie. He smiled up at Dean, his eyes shaded. “These are very nice features.”

God, what a dork, Dean thought, though he couldn’t stop a smile. He almost put an arm around Cas, then quickly looked away, not sure where that instinct came from. He hurried his steps to Baby before the rain started pouring again and soaked through to his skin.

“Are you cold?” Cas asked as they got in the Impala.

“What? No. I’m good.” Dean turned on the ignition and rubbed his hands together.

Cas reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder and Dean froze, felt a warmth radiate from Cas’ palm down his arm, then spread across his whole body. He didn’t know how much of the warmth was from Cas’ grace or from the simple reason Cas was touching him.

The warmth suddenly faded and Cas sighed. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, pulling his hand away. “I wish I could do more.”

“It’s alright.” He felt the loss when Cas let go of his shoulder, felt now the cold radiating from the windows, creeping under his skin.

Cas frowned at his hands, palms up, and Dean hated the way he seemed so frustrated with himself, with his weakening abilities, so he tried to joke. “You know, I think it was your trenchcoat that gave you your super powers. This hoodie’s probably a cursed object that’s sapping them away. I should’ve tested for EMF.”

It was stupid, but a smile tugged at Cas’ mouth anyway. He met Dean’s eyes and, as always, Dean felt himself sinking into his gaze. The searching, intent look made every moment between them feel so weighty, like at any moment one of them might say something that would change everything between them forever. It was terrifying. Even more terrifying, the way the urge so often rose up in him to be the one to change it all. To say… he wasn’t even sure. He wasn’t even sure what he felt.

Clearing his throat, Dean tore his eyes away. Rain smattered against Baby and obscured the road as he pulled out of the parking lot. He glanced at Cas, who now stared out the passenger window, his hands tucked back into the hoodie pocket, the hood still pulled up over his head. He looked so warm. Dean allowed himself the fantasy of pulling over onto the side of the road, sliding over on the bench seat to press himself up next to Cas, both of them sitting silently as rain drummed on Baby’s roof, maybe Cas sliding a hand around him, running his fingers through his hair…

Blinking, he reached over and turned on the radio, turned it up too loud to distract himself from those thoughts. Cas glanced over and Dean motioned to him.

“I like this look,” he said. “You look very comfy.” His face heated giving the compliment, but Cas didn’t seem to notice, only smiled and ducked his head. Was Cas... blushing?

No, Dean decided, it was only an illusion from the orange glow of the lampposts outside. Returning his eyes to the road, he gripped the steering wheel and continued driving into the rainy night.

Tag List:

@becky-srs @xojo @marvelnaturalock @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you @aelysianmuse @prayedtoyou @letsjustdieeveryone @spookyskeletonsandallthezombies @good-things-do-happen-dean

Let me know (message, ask, comment) if you’d like to be tagged in my other random destiel fics or removed from the list :)

#i wrote the 1st half of this before ep18 #before all chaos let loose #probably why the 2nd half gets so pining and angsty #clothing in this fic inspired by real life clothing ive found at thrift stores #spncreatorsdaily #destiel fic #set in???#s4?s6?s8?idk #cas' grace is weakened #dean is in love and doesnt know it #dean and cas go shopping #cas is in love and dean doesnt know it #expectingtofly writes #2 fics in a week!#we're feelin inspired!

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wonder-kid-pugh · 4 years ago

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The One - (Kelley O'Hara x reader)

Honestly guys it's been a long and shitty day right now and the fact that I have to go to school tomorrow isn't helping. I need some positivity right now so I hope you enjoy this. Many of you asked for a part 2 so here it is!

"I'm disappointed in you"

I narrow my eyes at my son, "Shut up Sonnett". Sonnett throws her arms up, "But you were supposed to be the ultimate frat daddy! You were supposed to be single forever. You were my role model!" I rub the palms of my hands into my eyes, "Go away Sonnett". She goes to retort again but is silenced by Alex, "Leave her alone Sonny". Sonnett sighs and slumps in her chair.

I start to play with my food pushing in around my plate when I spot Christen smirking at me, "What?" She just shrugs with a smile on her face, "Nothing. Just have never seen you so hung up on a girl before. Your completely whipped". "I am not whipped!" I shout at her but she grins, "So your saying that if she called, you wouldn't drop everything and go hang out with her?"

Before I could even answer my phone rings. I dig my phone out of my pocket mumbling but internally curse when I see who it is. Alex laughs, "Looks like we'll find out now won't we?" I glare at my best friend as I answer my phone, "Hey".

"Hey wanna meet up today?" She asks. I sigh rubbing my forehead who glaring at Christen who is smirking at me. "If your busy it's cool" she says. "No no it's okay. I'm free today. What do you wanna do?" I say while giving my teammates the finger as they giggle at me.

"Well I was thinking coffee but I'm easy" she answers. "Your anything but easy" I mutter. "What was that?" She asks and I can already imagine her raises her damn eyebrow at me. "Nothing nevermind" I shrug, "yeah coffee sounds good". "Cool I'll see you in a bit" she answers. I sigh, "See you in a bit".

I lean back in my chair and narrow my eyes at my teammates who all look at me with shit eating grins, "Shut up".

---

"Are you sure your okay?" She asks me for around the fifth time that day. I nod slightly giving her a small smile, "Yeah I'm good". She squints her eyes at me, "You sure? You've been acting.....weird". I cough and sit up straighter, "Yeah I'm sure. Anyways how was your date?"

She immediately scoffs before taking a sip of her coffee, "Horrible. She was a bitch. Way too clingy as well". I have to hide my smile behind me cup as I go to take a drink. She shrugs, "The sex was good though". I choke, "You still slept with her?" She grins at me with a shrug, "She was hot. I mean like really hot Kels. Definitely wouldn't do it again with her though".

I bite the inside of my cheek and nod. "What about you? Have you been seeing anyone recently?" She asks. I shake my head as I drum my fingers on the table, "No been kinda busy lately I guess". She smirks at me, "Sure your just not going through a dry season?" I roll my eyes and kick her shin under the table, "Shut up and no. I've just been busy. Haven't really found the time".

She just smirks while drinking her coffee. I bite my lip, "Can I ask you something?" She just nods while I sigh and look at her, "Why don't you date?" The smile disappears from her face while she leans back into her seat, "Because Love's a trick. It's not real. Everyone talks about the fairytale love where they end up happily ever after but that's a lie. It just doesn't happen like in the movies".

I scrunch my eyebrows, "Well yeah obviously it's not going to be like in the movies or the books but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist". "Then why do people cheat? Why do people get divorced?" She challenges. I shake my head, "It just means they haven't found the one for them". "What if they don't have The One for them?" She asks. "Everyone has someone for them" I say confidently. "Not me" she shakes her head.

I frown as I reach across the table and put my hand on hers, "Everyone has someone for them. Even me and most definitely you. You just have to give it time".

They may be closer than you think

She gives me a small smile but it doesn't reach her eyes, "I'll believe it when I see it". Deciding to be a bit bold I lace my fingers with her's but she doesn't pull away instead she just smiles and rubs her thumb over my knuckles letting a warm feeling wash over me.

What is she doing to me?

I clear my throat making her look up at me but doesn't move away our hands, "Uh I was wondering if you wanted to come to my match in a few days?" She just nods, "Yeah I would love too". "I thought you didn't believe in Love" I joke but all I earn is an eye roll.

"Shut it O'Hara"

---

"Stop staring Lover girl" Allie teases. "Shut it Worms" I whisper as I start walking towards her, "Hey Y/n". She looks up from her phone and smiles at me, "Hey Kels". I nod towards the field, "Wanna meet the team?" She shrugs, "Why not?" I help her down before we walk over to the team, "Guys this is Y/n. Y/n this is the team". Sonnett steps up right in front of Y/n before circling her looking her up and down. Her face is neutral until stops in front of her and looks at me, "Okay I understand".

Y/n looks at me weirdly while I shrug at her but when she turns around I glare at Sonnett who shrinks back. "So your the woman wormie keeps talking about" Allie grins. Y/n just turns on me and smirk, "Talking about me O'Hara?" Before I could defend myself Christen speaks up, "All the time". Y/n raises her eyebrow at Christen, "Your teammates are hot Kels". She sends a wink at Christen who flushes red but gets pulled back by Tobin who glares at Y/n. I roll my eyes, "Keep it in your pants L/n". "That your first time saying it to someone else O'Hara?" She shoots back making the team laugh while Becky rubs her temples, "God there's two of them".

My eyes widen as her eyes lock on Becky and her mouth opens but I leap at her and cover her mouth with my hand, "No!" But I quickly pull it away and wipe it on my shorts, "Ew gross! You licked me!" She raises her eyebrows at me, "You didn't complain about it last time". Sonnett cackles behind me while there is a mix of amusement and disgust.

"WAIT!" We all turn to Sonnett who points at Y/n, "So Kelley is a bottom?" My eyes widen but I can't stop her before she's already talking, "Awe that's so cute! You think she tops?" I grab her wrist, "Okay that's enough". I drag her away from the team and towards the tunnel instantly regretting introducing her to the team, "I will never live that down".

I distract myself by looking at her and I can't help but grin, "You look good in my jersey". She smirks as she comes in extremely close making me back up against a wall, "Well we already knew I looked good in your clothes". She leans in so she's right next to my ear and places a small kiss right behind it, "But I think we both know you like me better without them".

I have to hold myself back from letting out a groan as I shiver, "Fuck". She grins brushing a stray strand of hair away from my face, "Maybe later". She sends me a wink before walking down the tunnel.

This girl is going to be the death of me

---

"Do you really believe that there's someone out there for everyone?" She asks as we while in bed later that day. (Fully clothed you pervs). I roll over onto my side and nod, "Yes". She turns and looks at me, "Even me?" I grab her by her waist and roll her over so we're face to face, "Especially you".

I look into her eyes, "Where is this coming from?" She sighs and closes her eyes briefly before opening them up again but they look dull. They don't have their usual spark of mischief that makes them twinkle and shine. "Growing up I had let's say a warped sense of love. Parents always fighting making each other miserable all the time. Dad was stepping out on my mom a lot. They were so busy fighting each other that they barely noticed I existed. Forcing me to grow up fast. Then the first real girlfriend I had fucked me up even more".

She sniffs as tears start to well up in her eyes, "She was abusive. Degraded me for anything and everything. And all the while she was making me feel shitty about myself, she was sleeping around with different people". A tear falls but I quickly wipe it away as she takes a shaky breath and tries to play it off with a small laugh, "Eventually I got my head out if my ass and finally left and never looked back". She looks me directly in the eyes, "After that I just stopped believing in love. Love is full of lies and deceit and only ends in pain so why bother. Don't get attached and you can't get hurt".

I frown and wipe her cheeks with the pad of my thumbs, "I'm sorry you didn't deserve any of that". She sniffs and wipes the tip of her nose off the back of her hand, "Nothing you can do about it. It happened". I take her face in my hands, "I'm sorry that happened to you. But that doesn't mean you can't find love. It just means they were idiots for not seeing how amazing you are".

I pause and lick my lips before throwing caution to the wind. "Fuck it" I think before I take a deep breath. "Let me show you what you deserve" I murmur. She scans my face before I slowly lean in and kiss her. I take the kiss slow and pour everything I have into it trying desperately to show how much I care for the girl in my arms.

Eventually we break apart both breathing heavy. "Give me 30 days" I breathe out, "Give me 30 days to show you what real love is like. If after 30 days I don't change your mind, I'll drop it and I'll never bring it up again". She looks at me hard, "Why are you doing this?" I let out a sigh and run my hand through my hair before looking back down at her.

"Because I think I love you"

#kelley o hara #kelley o hara x reader #kelley o hara imagines #kelley o hara imagine #kelley o'hara #uswnt imagines #uswnt imagine #uswnt

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talltalesandbedtimestories · 4 years ago

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House Edge

Title: House Edge (COMPLETE)

Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester

Summary: You're on a Girls Trip to Vegas and meet a certain hunter at the buffet.

Word Count: 9,100

Warnings: fluff, flirting, gambling, strip club, private dance, mild language

A/N: My first reader insert try. I'm thinking this is sometime around Season 7. Maybe the annual pilgrimage to Vegas when Becky whammies Sam. The majority of events that unfold will probably be right before Dean gets the text from Sam to meet up with him. Thunder From Down Under probably wasn't at Vegas yet - who knows - artistic license and all that. Also, I don't have an extensive knowledge of gambling, so most of what you'll read is from what I've Googled. If something is terribly wrong, feel free to let me know. But, I tried to stay in the vague zone.

Your head pounded and sloshed from the one too many Malibu Bay Breezes you’d ingested during the “Thunder From Down Under” show that ended minutes ago. Three of the nine others in your group were still hooting and hollering at the oil slicked row of hyper muscled, surreal Australian blokes on stage. In addition to the baby oil, the men were bathing in the estrogen overload and accolades washing over them. Wads of cash, stuffed into the glittery floss substituting as underwear, stuck to aforementioned oil slicked skin.

It had been fun, there was no doubt. But the lights and the music and the rabid female reactions were hitting you all at once. Kasey pulled you by the elbow and screamed in your ear. “Wanna get a photo with Faux Fabio?” She pointed to the long-haired blond Adonis with a shoulder span the width of a football field.

You frowned. “How much is that going to run me?”

“Shannon!” Kasey called across the table, still too close to your delicate ear drums. “How much to rub up to one of ‘em?” You were glad you weren’t sharing a room with Kasey. She’d be hurling in the toilet for most of the night after the number of Tequila shots she’d downed. So far. And the night was relatively early. Especially for Vegas.

“Thirty bucks, I think.” Shannon shrugged, paying more attention to her phone.

You shook your head. Your single status and mid-level office job already had you on a strict budget for this girls’ getaway weekend. “I’m good. Besides, the more up close I get, the more disappointed I think I’ll be.” Shannon nodded with a smirk in agreement, still staring at her screen.

Kasey huffed. “Well, Linda, Stacey and Mira are already in line. I’m going to see if I can cut!” She dashed off without another word.

Women skirted and pushed past your standing frame. You tried to become one with the table in front of you. Anything to avoid being pulled into the stampede or thrown to the ground, and mercilessly stomped on by stilettos and sneakers.

Even Shannon looked a bit miffed at the onslaught as you stared at her in a half-cry for help. “My God.” She rolled her eyes.

“Where did Cathy and that bunch disappear to?” You yelled over.

“Who knows?”

You sighed. “What was next on the itinerary?”

“I think any plans are out the window. Every woman for herself.” Shannon tapped on her phone. “My little one’s running a fever. I’m going to get back to the hotel room so I can check in at home.”

You nodded. The only thing waiting for you at home was your tabby, Tyrion. Your Grandma-type neighbor down the hall, Gladys, had offered to cat sit. So there was no one, human or feline, actually waiting for you back in your one-bedroom apartment in Albuquerque.

Holding your breath, you pushed yourself into the crowd, moving against the current towards the exit instead of the line for photos. The quadruple threat of your old college pals was screaming in line about which stripper had the tightest ass.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to have a good time or ogle good looking men. Far from it. But gambling was more your scene anyway. You had a pretty good teacher with your last boyfriend when it came to Blackjack. You breathed a sigh of relief when you shimmied out of the entertainment venue and stepped foot onto the busy carpet of the Excaliber’s casino floor. Your phone read 9:10 pm. There was still plenty of time to lose your shirt.

You’d popped a few aspirin and downed a whole bottle of water in the sitting area of the women’s bathroom, hoping to fend off a killer hangover in the morning. A quick reapplication of lipstick and you were ready to scope out a good table.

After about an hour, you’d split, hit, and stood with the best of them at one table. There’d been one experienced player, Ron, that looked like he’d planted roots in the seat next to you. He got to talking, as the old timers usually did, and you’d learned he was born and raised in Reno. You had a nice little chat with Ron and Stevie, the female dealer, and fended off a few men who sat on the other side and hit on you more than the cards they were dealt.

“That is not a bad takeaway, there.” Ron nodded when you decided to cash out.

“Thanks. Pleasure, Ron. You take care.”

“You too, pretty lady. Remember what I said about Roulette. You should try it once.”

The betting chips clinked in your plastic souvenir cup. “I might.”

He tipped you a two-finger salute. You wandered, your stomach empty. The buffet to end all buffets calling your name.

“Fuck it.” After turning most of your chips into cash at the counter, leaving one $50 chip in your jean pocket, you headed for the International food amalgamation that guaranteed intense heartburn and bloating in the morning.

Fluorescent lights and sneeze shields presented you with choices beyond comprehension. You grabbed a large plate and planned your method of attack. One of your pink manicured nails tapped on the bottom of the china. “Ease into it.” You decided to go with the Mediterranean spread first. Before you knew it, there were helpings of General Tso’s chicken, pizza, potstickers, mashed potatoes and French fries, along with some bratwurst and sauerkraut. The grumbling from your tummy may have been a warning when you sat down at the table for two, alone, on the cafeteria style floor. The waitress gave you a tired smile when she dropped off your iced tea.

You shoveled some sauce drenched chicken into your mouth and took in the scene. People floating around, getting up for seconds or thirds, talking about how much money they lost or won, what shows they should try to see while they were in Vegas. You chewed and stared at the formidable back of a man at the table directly ahead of you. He’d give Faux Fabio a run for his money. He had fluffy, long brown hair. His animated storytelling hands got your attention. You heard a deep chuckle and slurp from his table sharer, out of your view because of the mountain man. “Alright,” the man stated, “Going to give the Poker Room another go. Coming?”

“Nah.” The very deep voice replied. “I’ve still gotta hit the dessert line.”

You watched the man rise from his seat, floored by how tall he was. And, when he turned, you saw how very cute he was. You’d have paid thirty bucks to snap a picture with this man. He gave you a sweet little smile when he walked past. You couldn’t help but look over your shoulder and take in the rest of him as he left. Smacking your lips and shaking your head, you turned back to your plate to resume the dent made in the food. Your eyes darted up to look at the man left alone at the table. You were pretty sure your mouth gaped open at the sight of him, staring at you. He wiped at his face with a napkin.

Oh my. If the man that left appeared sweet and cute with just a smile, this one was a boatload of sexy and trouble with that smirk. You could tell by the way he took his time inventorying you with care, chewing slow the whole time. One side of his lip curled up in another grin variation. He nodded at you in greeting from across both tables. You smiled back and then pretended to stare at your food. He tossed the napkin on his plate and stood up. You peeked up and noted he was layered in a couple shirts and broken in jeans, like his partner. Not quite as tall; but, still very tall in your estimation. You wondered what he’d look like in a g-string and bathed in baby oil.

And, oh boy. He was walking straight over to your table. Yep, he was very tall, by the way you had to tilt your head backwards when he strolled up. He smacked his lips, disrupting the beaming smile before he spoke. “That was my little brother you were checking out. Want me to give you his number?”

You had to lean back in your seat a bit more. “Um. No, that’s okay.” Geez, he was pretty. Holy Facial Symmetry Batman!

He nodded, then smiled again. “Want to give me your number?”

You had to chuckle at the bravado. “Does that work for you a lot?”

He shrugged. “Works enough.”

“I don’t doubt it.” You decided to play along. “How long are you in Vegas?”

His brows rose up. “Just tonight.”

You tisked. “Not enough of a time commitment for what I’d want to do.”

He chuckled this time. “Is that so?”

You nodded.

He pointed to your plate. “Can I get you anything? I’m heading back up.”

“I think this should tide me over for a while. But, thanks.”

His jaw clenched. “Can I join you when I get back?”

What the hell. “Sure.” You smiled.

“Man, you almost kept up with me.” Dean sighed and rubbed his tummy after his third dessert plate.

“Hardly.” You were only working on your second serving of what might be considered actual food. A half hour had passed, you sitting with this veritable stranger. Talking about nothing of much importance, but having a grand time flirting, enjoying his rough and rugged demeanor and the boyish charm. One of your palms hit the tabletop. “I’m tapping out.”

“Not much for sweets?” He leaned in and studied you. Stunning green eyes twinkled with mischief. He batted the kind of lashes you could only get with a thick coating of mascara. “Or are you already sweet enough?”

“Is this like an Ocean’s Eleven thing?”

His smile dropped, waiting for you to elaborate. “Come again?”

“Am I like some unwitting part of a huge con job going down in the money room right now?”

He chuckled. “I’m not following, sweetheart.”

“Why are you sitting here with me?”

“Are you kidding?” He leaned way back in his chair, teetering on the back two legs. An arm swept out from his side in your direction. “Have you seen yourself?”

You pursed your lips. “Please.”

He raised a hand. “I’m not going to try and convince you. But I may take advantage. Commandeer more of your time, since you think you don’t deserve mine.”

“So you are a con man.”

He shook his head. That smile could only belong to the most skilled grifter. “If I was a good con man, I’d have more than a hundred dollars to my name after half a day in this ��It’s a Small World’ casino.”

“It is a bit Disneyfied, isn’t it?”

A shrug. “Well, it’s cleaner than the ones near the motel Sam and I are staying at, so that’s a plus.”

The plate of food in front of you looked less and less appetizing as the seconds passed. Pushing it away, you really wanted to dig into the dessert that was Dean. But you’d only had two one-night stands in your life. Neither one was spectacular and left you full of regret that you’d had them to begin with. But this man. Oh, you had a feeling this man would love you and leave you with a million other regrets and create an addiction you’d never be able to fulfill again. What was that saying? Better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. This man was surging all kinds of wants in your head. If you got a taste, you knew you were done for.

His voice rumbled like a storm cloud and pulled you out of your thoughts. “What’s up for the rest of your night?”

You grinned, wanting to tease out this time with him for as long as possible. Skirt on the edge of a pond of possibilities and drown in those sometimes sea green colored eyes. “I told you there’s not enough time if you’re leaving tonight.”

“Pretty good at completing a task quickly and efficiently.” He licked his lips. “I mean, taking my time, yeah, that’s always ideal. But, if we’re pressed for time, sweetheart, I won’t disappoint.” His brow twitched up.

You sighed, sounding a little too loud and desperate for your liking. “Does a guarantee come with that claim?”

“How much of a gambler are you?” He deflected the question with another.

“I enjoy it.”

“I might be worth taking a chance on, then.”

“Hm. I met a nice old man while playing black jack tonight. He talked about odds and luck and the house edge and why he loves cards, black jack especially. It works his brain and he can play for hours and not lose his shirt.”

Dean smiled. “So, what kind of hand am I? Soft or hard?”

You grinned at the innuendo, trying to keep your train of thought on its track. You leaned across the table. He mirrored your action, meeting you halfway. His hands clasped together on the surface, forearms firm and locked. The closest stare you’d shared.

Both thumbs lifted up in his grip and he nodded a fraction with his chin. “Well, what’s the verdict?” You could smell apples, cinnamon, and vanilla on his breath; courtesy of his indulgence in pie ala mode and his slightly parted mouth. He came into full focus now. Freckles dotting the tops of his cheeks and sprinkled across his nose. Lips that were perfect, puffy and pronounced. Sharp edges and soft curves. He watched you inventory him as he did the same, eyes scanning, crinkles emerging around them when he smiled and you thought he found something he especially liked about your visage. The gamblers and diners dropped away from your periphery. The piped in music and frantic sounds locked away in a vacuum, muffled and mumbling like the adults in those Peanuts cartoons you loved to watch when you were little.

“Neither. You are in no way a safe bet. You’ve got a major house edge.” Your answer came out lower than intended. The slight mix of surprise and disappointment on his face at the answer made you clear your throat. You continued. “So, why gamble in the first place? Cause there’s always the slightest chance you’ll get lucky and hit it big. Flip a coin and see where it’ll land.”

The smile returned and he shot stick-straight in his seat. “I’ve got plenty of coins.” He began to rifle through a jacket pocket. “Two out of three?” You held back a giggle at his eagerness.

“I’ve got one right here.” You dug the chip out of your jean pocket. The plastic disc twirled between your fingers. “Wanna see where it lands?”

His eyes widened. “Big spender. What’re we betting?”

It was your turn to lean back. “Depends. How lucky do you feel?”

He chuckled. “Stakes? And, then I’ll let you know.”

You swallowed. “Well, Ron, the old man, was explaining that Roulette has the best House Edge for the casino. Over five percent in their favor that a player loses. Think you can be my lucky charm and push those odds in my favor?”

He nodded. “What we talkin’? Street or split bet?”

The man knew his games. You smiled. “Straight up.”

His head tilted back. “Whoa. That’s a helluva lot of luck.” A finger pointed back and forth between the both of you. “I help you hit the jackpot and…”

You grinned. “You hit the jackpot. Call the shots for the rest of the night. We go wherever. Do whatever.”

His lips curled into an “O” as he tried to hold back his own grin. He nodded in thought. “If you lose?”

You shrugged. “Buy me a drink at the nearest bar, share some more stories, then we shake hands and say it was nice meeting the other.”

He raised his hands. “Well, I will take those odds. Let’s go find us a wheel.” His tall frame bolted out of his seat, beaming a smile at you.

Your heart sped up. There was no way he was winning this bet. But he seemed up for spending a little more time with you regardless. And that said something. You reached into your purse to drop a tip on the table but he’d already beat you to it.

“Lead the way, sweetheart.”

You nodded and wandered from the restaurant to the massive casino floor. He towered next to your side, the elbow of his jacket brushing against the sheer material covering your biceps. He smelled amazing. When you stopped in the middle of the floor to get your bearings and looked up to ask what direction you both should head, you found him gazing at your cleavage in the strappy surplice top. The look on his face shot straight to your core.

His eyebrows shot up at the realization he’d been caught ogling. “What’s wrong?”

A flush of warmth flooded your face. “We’re using your luck here. You pick the table.”

“Lot of pressure.” He mumbled.

“Lot at stake.” You countered.

“Alright.” He nodded to the right. You followed him, weaving through the crowd, now having the chance to notice his bowlegs and how very wide his shoulder span was. He was wearing entirely too many layers to your liking. But, you got to bathe in the wake of his scent and imagine how very pert that ass was under that denim. He halted without warning and you put the brakes on your stride, inches before careening into his back. His fingers pointed three tables over. “That one.” He looked over his right shoulder and grinned, finding your body and face quite close. “Step right up.”

You took the lead again and inhaled and exhaled deep, taking the one empty seat at the Roulette table. The wheel was currently in motion, the ball spinning, holding the breath of every gambler with a stake on the result. You heard the clicking of the ball along the slots as the rotation slowed, deciding on its destination.

Dean slid his standing frame along your right. He was warm, solid. He tipped down to whisper in your ear. “Sure you wanna go for a straight bet? Making me think you don’t even want a little fun time with me. We could lower the stakes. I’d be more than happy to let you call the shots for the rest of the night.” The offer dripped out of his voice with a deep intensity, low and tempting.

You would not meet his eyes again, already picturing the sexy smirk on his face. He would distract you, make you cave. “Nope.” You responded. “All in. Go big or go home.” You pulled out the chip from your pocket as the winning number was called. A mixture of whoops and grumbles emerged from the dealer’s announcement. Chips were swept over and around the table.

He sighed and rose up, waiting for the table to be cleared and for the dealer to tell everyone to place their bets. “Okay. What number?”

Your mind reeled with the possibilities. “When’s your birthday?” You asked.

“Seriously?” He chuckled.

“Yep.” Your eyes wandered over the red and black numbers on the green felt board. The all clear was called and chips scattered in place with both hurried and tentative fingers of various betters.

“January 24th.”

“So, we could go with 1 or 24. Red or black?”

Your body startled with the pressure of his hand at the small of your back. “Black.”

“24 it is then.” You gulped and placed the chip with care over the number. It rested there alone, a single play amid a multitude of others.

His fingers tapped against your skin in anticipation. “Well, it was fun while it lasted.” He joked. “Maybe as a parting gift you’ll give me your number.”

You smiled, focusing on the slight swirl of his fingers now, imagining what they could do to other parts of your body.

“No more bets.” The dealer called and waved a hand over the table. The wheel spun in one direction. The ball clicked and whirled in its lane in the other.

You thought about what Blackjack Ron had said earlier. Roulette, straight bet odds were 35 to 1. You could view that bet as a drowning man’s last ditch effort to keep their head above the water’s surface. Hold out for that raft to save them, give them a second chance to get things right. Or, you could view it as something as simple as hope. Hope that great things sometimes happen when you take a risk. You should try it once. That’s what Ron had said.

You closed your eyes as the wheel slowed and the ball eased in its race for the finish line. You replayed that little mantra, the pep talk you’d give yourself every once in a while in your bathroom mirror. Failure is always a possibility when you try. But so is success.

The dealer announced the winning number.

Dean’s fingers froze. “Holy fucking shit!” He bellowed.

Your eyes jolted open. The dealer placed a tiny marker on “24 Black.” Your mouth dropped open and watched the chips stack up in front of you.

“Holy fucking shit!” Dean repeated. “How much is that?”

You blinked, then repeated the calculation out loud you had figured out when you threw out the dare. “One thousand, seven hundred, and fifty dollars.”

“Wow!” You looked up and assessed his face. He was floored and amazed, like a kid that was just told he had free reign in a toy store. “That’s… that’s some luck.”

“All you.” You grinned.

The compliment took him aback. There was the slightest hint of blush on those cheeks.

You motioned to the winnings. “Okay, grab some and let’s cash out. Half of this is yours.”

Even more amazement. “That wasn’t part of the deal.”

“I’m feeling generous.” You packed the chips into your purse. He stuffed some into his pockets. When you rose up, a jolt of adrenaline pushed you into a new territory of action. One filled with courage. You took your time and slithered close to his standing frame. Let parts of your body sweep along his. His brows rose higher than you’d seen so far that night. “Looks like you’re calling the shots now, Dean. We go wherever. Do whatever.”

A delicious lick of his lips followed your statement. His eyes dazzled with thoughts. “Let’s get out of here.”

You’d walked with him along the strip for what felt like forever. He’d gotten you a cup of frozen yogurt for part of the adventure. The warm air and pulse of Vegas fed your lingering alcohol buzz. Dean was just as intoxicating. He talked in cryptic paragraphs about him and his brother’s nomadic lifestyle. You laughed at his dirty jokes, both basking in the artificial glow surrounding you and the high of winning. But you, most importantly, let go of the decision making.

A turn off the busy, fluorescent lit thoroughfare landed you in a much more adult amusement area of the city. And, you had an inkling, heading in the direction of Dean’s motel. You’d finished the last bit of your treat and tossed the empty cup and spoon into a nearby trash can when he stopped to read the flashing sign of a venue.

His rapt stare forced you to look up and see what he was focusing on. The amber neon depicted the figure of a voluptuous female with flowing hair, one leg wrapped around a bright white pole. You read the name of the establishment out loud. “Sapphire Gentlemen’s Club?”

He turned to you and grinned. “Been in one of these before?”

You felt your brow scrunch together. “Well, no.”

He walked over to the glass door covered in dark film. “Well, let’s go, then.”

“Really? This is what you want to do?”

“At this moment? Yes.” He opened the door and ushered you in. “My lady.”

You chuckled and shook your head. “Are you trying to test my comfort level or something?” The question breezed by his frame as you passed.

“Something like that.” He smiled.

You really didn’t know what to expect when you walked in. A bouncer looking dude waved you in after a quick survey. Dean’s hand was on your back again, as it had been off and on throughout the evening, leading you towards the dim section of tables and booths. It was packed with, from what you could see, a majority of male patrons with the occasional token female. The tables wrapped around a few circular stages with catwalks emerging from blue velvet curtains. A dozen or so topless females danced for the pleasure of their audiences. The bass of the music rumbled through your skin.

“Here.” Dean leaned in, pushing you to a free high top right by one of the stages. Enough light spilled onto the area that you spotted the kid in a toy store look on his face again when he took his seat.

You sat across, tearing your gaze from him to the ladies wrapped around poles, bronzed and oiled similar to the male counterparts you’d been hooting at earlier that evening.

“Thought you could see how the other half lives, after that Australian review.” Dean brought up the exact same thought, only he shivered in distaste. A wave of his hand requested the attention of one of the waitresses who thankfully, for you, wore a bit more than the dancers.

“Hello, lovelies. I’m Cherie. What can I get you?” She purred over to Dean and gave you a sweet smile, dropping napkins in front of your spots. Her bare glittery shoulders and cocoa skin made you crave chocolate for a second.

Dean’s lips quirked up in a smile. You realized he’d been giving your reaction more attention than the female with big onyx eyes and raven, wavy hair. “I’ll have a bourbon. Top Shelf. Neat. What are you having, sweetheart?”

You shrugged, continuing the little game you’d started since he won the bet.

He nodded. “Same for this pretty little lady.” The waitress nodded, about to walk off, when Dean asked, “Oh, what’s it cost for a private show in the back?”

The waitress raised a pencil lined eyebrow. “Depends on who you want the show with.”

“Are you available?” Dean grinned.

She giggled. “I might be.”

“Well, if you are, let me know what it’d be for the both of us?”

“Will do, sweetie.” Cherie bounced off with a pronounced sway of her ample hips.

Your mouth popped open. “What?”

“Whatever I want.” He reminded you with a lick of his lips. He leaned his forearms on the table. “You ever, ah…”

An awkward giggle erupted from your throat. “No.”

He shrugged and smiled. “Thought about it?”

“Maybe.”

That made Dean’s grin grow wider. “Well, it’s only a dance. You technically aren’t supposed to touch the ladies. Sometimes, though, you get lucky. And, the way my luck is going tonight… got to give it a shot.” His fingers brushed over the top of your hand. “Get something etched in my memory for repeat viewings later.”

The touch of his fingers, light and gentle, ticklish and thrilling, hit an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. You emitted something between a laugh and a sigh. “You’re going to blow all your winnings tonight on booze and boobs.”

“Worth it. I’m getting to spend it with a beautiful partner in crime.”

You sat with him and watched the show. A country tune blasted through the sound system. The ladies all sashayed back to the curtains, flinging them back with a dramatic flair. They disappeared only to be replaced by cowboy hat and boot wearing dancers. Daisy dukes rode so high up that half of their ass cheeks bulged out. Holsters, hung loose from their waists, held fake pistols that, when pulled out for use, were done so with the most phallic inducing reminders. And all had the perkiest, perfect breasts you’d ever seen.

His fingers tangled into yours about midway through the performance. “Thank God I’m a country boy.” He tipped his head about to the twang. “So, Albuquerque, huh?”

You attempted to track the conversation and not the feel of his warm skin tingling yours. The pads of his fingers were rough and worn, gritty but not harsh. You imagined what kind of work he did to get them that way. “Yeah. Moved there after college. Got a job at a big research company. Glorified office assistant, so just the mundane business stuff that helps keep everyone employed on the books, bills paid.”

“Research?” His smile softened, listening to you.

“Sustainable energy, nuclear weapons.”

His bottom lip jutted out as he nodded. “Like it?”

“More days than not.” Your eyes widened as one of the dancers provocatively licked the barrel of her toy gun. You couldn’t help but laugh in embarrassment. “Geez, I’ve never done that with a firearm.”

Dean chuckled. “What have you done with a firearm?”

“I’ve got a license to carry. My dad taught me how to shoot when I was around thirteen. He was a big time game hunter. Back in Colorado.” You didn’t bother to go into what happened to your parents. You wanted to keep the tone of the night light and fun.

“What do you carry?” Genuine interest spread over his face now.

“Walther PPQ. But I left it back home.” You smiled, realizing he was not put off and probably carried as well. “Are you packing?”

“Oh, I’m packing,” He grinned, “but my gun’s back at the motel. Not a good idea to mix Vegas nightlife and bullets, I’ve learned.” That sounded like a perfect lead-in for a story. But he only added. “M1911.”

You nodded then asked, “Country boy, huh?”

“Yep, Kansas.”

“We could have hit Stoney’s then.”

“You would have tried to get me to dance.” He nodded to the stage. “More fun to watch.”

Cherie returned, interrupting the flow of conversation with two tumblers of bourbon. After placing the glasses on the table and eyeing the way Dean gripped your hand, she leaned in close to his ear and whispered. You struggled to make it out, giving up when it proved pointless. His lids lifted a fraction. “Well, that sounds positively delightful, Cherie.” He added with a sexy swagger. “Think you can get yourself one of those cowgirl outfits?”

She nodded. “See what I can do. Jimmy’ll come by for you two in about a half hour then.” Another nearby table called her away.

Dean grabbed his glass and raised it for a toast. “To Vegas.”

You shook your head and clinked your glass with his, mumbling. “To Vegas.”

The sparkling beaded fringe curtaining the doorway was a nice touch. You pushed through the strands and took in where you’d be with Dean for the next twenty minutes, along with Cherie, who was on her way. It was enough privacy for an intimate dance. Safe enough, you imagined, that if one of the women had to call for an assist from a handsy client, someone could be there in a flash without impediment. Burly Jimmy, about a foot taller than Dean, seemed to be the bouncer/bodyguard for the ladies and waited outside in the hallway.

“Really playing up the Sapphire theme, huh?” You asked Dean for his thoughts on the decor. There were two blue velvet, plush armchairs in opposite corners of the tiny eight by eight space. Two of the walls were floor to ceiling glass and a tinted overhead light washed everything in shades of midnight blue.

“Fancy.” He teased. “One of the deluxe rooms.”

The two bourbons you had milked at the table for the last half hour had sizzled your senses with a warm euphoria. Almost like you were watching yourself in some sort of out of body experience. Had it really only been a few hours since you’d seen your girlfriends? You glanced at your watch and confirmed in the spin of your head it was a little after midnight. Your brain and body were wired and alert due to the proximity of this man pushing all your buttons tonight. It was raw, racy, a revelation in facets of sexiness you’d never had the honor of being in the presence of. Until tonight.

He’d teased with playful touches; flirted with that outlaw mouth; melted you with heated stares; worn you down with roguish charm; and hinted at some heavy shit that made you wonder how broken he might be under all that attractive armor. The alcohol had let his guard down a few times.

“Hey.” Dean snapped his fingers and brought you back. “You still with me, beautiful? I think we need to cut you off.”

You clicked your tongue and shot him with your finger gun. “Might be right, partner.”

He chuckled. “Yeah. Think so.” He rubbed his hands together and spotted a touchscreen in the wall. “Huh, even get to pick the music. Real fancy.” He pointed to one of the chairs. “Get comfy.” He tapped some buttons. You slid into the cushion, trying not to imagine the amount of bodily fluids embedded in the fabric. It did smell nice and clean, almost antiseptic, so that settled one of your racing thoughts. Your stare lingered over at Dean, a pensive look on his face as he decided on the tracks. It had to be illegal for someone to be that handsome without even trying. “Damn, it’s hot in here.” He pulled off his jacket and one layer of flannel, draping them over the back of the empty chair. His simple black t-shirt strained over his shoulders, biceps, chest. The alcohol had to be part of the reason he looked so perfect. No way, you kept thinking, no one’s that perfect.

The beads parted and Cherie strolled into the room. She had certainly done what she could to honor Dean’s request. She wore the same white vinyl hot pants and matching color stripper pumps that comprised her waitress attire. But she’d gone full on country bumpkin with a plaid flannel tied in a knot under her push up bra, and a cowboy hat.

“Did you pick your tunes, Cowboy?” She flirted at Dean.

“Yep.” The wide, cheesy grin spread over his face.

“Have a seat, time’s a wastin’.” She was working the southern accent, too. Dean hopped onto the other seat cushion and wiggled his ass into position. He also wiggled his eyebrows like a cartoon villain at you. You giggled.

Cherie tapped the screen. You were unsurprised by the country music that filled the room at a respectable volume. “Jimmy explain all the rules?” She asked and began to gyrate her hips to the song.

You nodded and replied, your eyes bouncing from Cherie to Dean, “You get to touch us, we don’t touch you. Stay in our seats. If we aren’t sure if we can, ask first.”

Cherie twirled and stopped to smile down at you. “I bet you were top of your class, hun.”

Your cheeks heated up at the flirting. This woman was obviously younger than you by at least a decade and was calling you hun. Dean’s jaw clenched at your reaction.

“So, what brings the two of you to Vegas?” Cherie turned around, giving you a full face of her curvy hips and tiny waist. The white pants almost glowed in the light and you could hear the slight squeak of material. Her moves were smooth, fluid, second nature.

Dean was getting a full face of the cleavage peeking out of her shirt as she bent down to give him a nice view. “Romantic getaway for my girl, here.” His eyes drifted over to you, past Cherie’s elbow, with a smirk.

Oh, this is how we’re playing it now, you thought. You had to admit the idea of you being his girl was absolute heaven.

“Aw, how sweet. How long you two been together?” She rose up, her hands gripping the back of her neck, elbows jutting out like wings. She twirled to look at you. She backed into Dean’s lap and began to circle and skirt her ass along his thighs. Cherie blocked his beautiful face with pink flannel. The only Dean reaction visible were his fingers latching onto the armrests like a vice.

You stifled a giggle. “Five years.” You threw out the first number you could think of.

“A lot of man to be working with for five years.” She smiled.

You couldn’t argue with that.

“Alright if I put my hands on him, darlin’?”

You heard Dean moan. How could you deny him? And, how fun that she was asking you for permission and not bothering with his approval. “Of course.” You swallowed at the intimate turn things were taking.

She lifted up, turned again. Her hands landed on Dean’s knees. “Let’s let your pretty lady see how much you’re enjoying this.” She cooed and spun him in the - surprise - rotating chair. You got an eyeful at this angle of that chiseled face and the wide eyes from his own surprise at the movement. He glanced over at you, turning serious in a second. It was like someone had turned the temperature on to sauna level in the room.

Cherie’s actions focused Dean’s attention back to her. Her fingers and long nails drifted and scraped along the surface of his hands, forearms, biceps. Her palms came to rest on his shoulders. She climbed on top with grace, wedging her knees into the cushion by his hips, clamping his bowlegs shut with the force of her muscular calves. Her heels poked out from the chair like weapons. That ass settled on his knees. Her cleavage inched closer to his face as he settled and reclined into the headrest.

“How does he feel?” You realized you had asked the question out loud.

Dean turned to you, languid and lush, blissed out and smiling in a lustful stupor.

“Warm. Strong. All sorts of good.” She smiled at you. “Lucky lady.”

If only, you thought.

Dean licked his lips at you, delved his gaze into Cherie’s cleavage, then met the dancer’s stare. “If you think I feel good, you should give my girl a test drive.” He unclenched his grip on the armrest for a few seconds, maybe trying to get some circulation back in his fingers. “In fact, I’d love it if you’d tell me how good my baby feels.”

Holy shit. Your panties dampened at his confession.

Cherie grinned. “Well, that’s up to your baby. Woman always gets the final say.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Dean chuckled. “I’ve gotta run everything by her, or else I’d get spanked. Can I tell you a secret, Cherie?” Dean husked out the question. Cherie nodded in interest, grinding on him now. Dean cocked a brow at the action. “Sometimes I get in trouble on purpose, just so she can spank me.”

You couldn’t help but giggle at that; the thrill and imagery of Dean naked, leaned over your lap with a bright red ass after some serious punishment from your hand.

“Sounds like you’re a handful.” Cherie snuggled down deeper, and dry humped him. “Feel like a nice handful, too.” She was humming along to the country tune. Just another day at the office for Cherie.

It felt all sorts of wrong and right at the same time, watching this lap dance. This teasing, edging. Who the hell has the House Edge in this scenario?

Dean’s hands clenched tighter around the velvet. “Don’t wanna come in my pants, Sweet Cherie. Isn’t that one of the rules?” He panted.

She laughed. “Oh, I’d break a couple for you two.” She slowed the torture and peeled off him with a groan that almost matched Dean’s. “We going for that test drive, baby?” Her hungry eyes scanned your seated frame.

“Um…” You began. Dean’s breathing regulated and he circled the seat back to face you. He grinned at you, peeking over the curve of Cherie’s hips, ready for the show.

“It’s okay. Anyplace you don’t want me touching, just streetlight. Only if you want to indulge your man.” She raised a brow. “But you might like it, too.”

“Oh, God, I hope so.” Dean mumbled.

Cherie did the same with your chair as she had with Dean’s. You tilted, looking at yourself beyond Dean in the mirror. How very deer in the headlights you appeared. Cherie was a veritable tigress, running the entire show.

She leaned down, inches from your face. Her fingers wiggled and she cupped your jaw. “I won’t bite.” Her sweet breath laced with peppermint washed over you. “So warm. Don’t be nervous.” Her soft voice lulled you into a safe space. “Your big strong man over there wouldn’t let anything happen to you. Would you, Cowboy?”

“Absolutely, fucking not.” Dean’s voice shot straight to your core again. You caught him licking his lips. He nodded, entranced at the vision of Cherie guiding her hand down the slope of your neck, then cupping the curve of one breast. Your breath hitched as she squeezed and her long nails dipped into the cleavage. “How’s she feel?” Another lick.

“Hm, so soft.” An eyebrow arched when she skirted over your covered nipple. “And excited. Still green, sweetie?” You nodded. Cherie tipped off the cowboy hat, sliding it over the crown of your head.

Dean rumbled out a low moan. You thought you heard him curse under his breath and whisper something close to “Ride ‘em, cowgirl.”

The arousal created by this beautiful woman was dizzying and the heat from Dean’s stare was making it hard to breathe. Sweat broke out on your forehead. Your stomach churned. “Oh.” Something else was threatening to escape as a sour bile hit the base of your throat. “Oh, no.” You mumbled. “Red, red. I need to get to a bathroom.”

Cherie hopped off and grabbed you by the wrist. “Jimmy! Need a trash can, stat.”

Dean jumped up from his seat. You spotted alarm on his face and got a quick glimpse of a decent bulge in his jeans before you groaned again at the somersaults your insides were doing. A hand clamped over your mouth as you forced down the gag and swallowed. It wasn’t going to be long before the entire floor would be covered with a Vegas buffet.

The saving grace that was Jimmy parted the curtains and slid a small desk trash can over in your general direction. Dean fell to his knees and held it in front of you. Cherie tossed off the cowboy hat you were wearing and held your hair back.

A deep inhale of the artificial lemon smell covering the trash can liner was what finally had you retching.

You emerged from the women’s bathroom fifteen minutes later after the whole fiasco had commenced. Cherie had been nice enough to bring you a disposable toothbrush and some toothpaste from backstage. You’d cleaned yourself up as best you could. But you were exhausted, humiliated, and planned to call yourself a cab. You were certain Dean had called it a night, leaving your sorry ass to figure things out.

How surprised, then, your face must have looked to see him leaning against the wall, Cherie’s cowboy hat twirling in his hands. He was back in his flannel and jacket, staring out onto the stage. The hint of movement by your slow trudges catching his attention, he turned and gave you a soft smile. “Hey there. How’re you doing?”

You shrugged. “I’m so sorry.” Your scratchy voice skipped over the apology.

He walked over to you. “I pushed my luck… and yours… a bit too far. I’m sorry.” He grinned and placed the hat on your head. “Cherie said you could have it. A parting gift for the both of us.”

A smile broke out on your face.

“You look really cute, Cowgirl.”

“You stayed?” You questioned.

Dean’s face contorted in confusion. “Not like I was going to just skip out on you over some upchuck. Trust me, beautiful, I’ve seen way worse.” He flicked the hat so it rose up an inch higher on your head. “So, calling us a cab or walking you back to your hotel so you can sleep this off? You are going to have one hell of a hangover in the morning.”

You tummy seesawed at the thought of a lot of walking right then. “Cab.”

He nodded and headed for the exit. “Let’s go flag one down.”

“But…”

Dean stopped, wavering in his stride and waited.

“I don’t want to say goodnight yet.”

He smiled, then sighed. “Well, I got a text about an hour ago that little brother is going off on a granola munching hike in the desert by himself.” He scratched the back of his head. “So, if you want to hang out in my seedy motel room for a couple hours, it’s free.”

You grinned, queasy but happy.

He’d found a country station on the motel’s radio alarm clock when you’d arrived earlier and forced you to down a bottle of water and pop a couple aspirin. The both of you were now on your third round of War. The conversation had gotten deeper as the battle continued. But there were still the light, fun and flirty moments that made spending this time with him feel even more special.

You sat cross legged on the blanket Dean had pulled out of his duffel to spare your ass from sitting on the dingy motel room carpet. He sat across from you, back against the foot of his bed, leaning an elbow on one propped up knee, the other leg splayed out on the blanket. You didn’t think his bowlegs could manage a cross legged position and grinned to yourself at the thought.

It was 2:00 am. He showed no signs of fading, but you were struggling. Dean kept glancing at his phone but never faltered to toss down his cards in time with yours.

“Hopefully he’s okay.” You offered. The tinge of pain crept in. You knew you had to say goodbye and call it a night. It was obvious he was worried. His brother had not returned his texts and was still roaming around, somewhere. “I should go. It’s getting really late and you look ready to form a search party.” You tossed your hand of playing cards onto the blanket and attempted a slow rise to your feet. You placed a hand on the cowboy hat to keep it from falling off your head. At least, for now, your stomach had settled. The pounding in your head had lessened.

“I’m surprised your gal pals haven’t been ringing you non-stop.” Dean’s head tilted up and stared.

“I’m the last thing they’re thinking of tonight.” You hadn’t given them much thought either since the first time you’d looked at Dean hours ago. God, it felt like a lifetime ago at this point.

“You should stay a little longer and at least see who wins. We’re all tied up.”

“We’ll just have to call it a draw.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He hopped up much quicker than you.

“Where’d I put my bag?” Your eyes found it on the little table by the kitchenette as soon as you’d asked the question. You hobbled over, letting the blood flow into your legs proper again.

As you rummaged through the contents, you heard the volume of the radio go up.

You turned and saw Dean sitting on the edge of the bed, tapping his thighs.

You giggled. “You like this song?”

“Ah, it’s pop-country. But ladies like it, right?”

You shrugged and dropped into the chair beside the table. “Where I’m from, ladies get weak in the knees for Luke.”

Dean grinned that grin you’d seen countless times that night and wished you could see for every night after. He stood up and swaggered over with purpose, in only that black t-shirt, jeans and sock clad feet. He mouthed the words to the song on his approach. Your eyes were locked on those luscious lips and how well he knew the lyrics.

Gonna stomp my boots in the Georgia mud ***

Gonna watch you make me fall in love

Dean pulled the hat off your head and slid it in the perfect sweet spot on his head. The slight tilt was sexy as hell.

Shake it for the birds, shake it for the bees

Shake it for the catfish swimmin' down deep in the creek

For the crickets and the critters and the squirrels

Shake it to the moon, shake it for me girl

Aw, country girl, shake it for me

He teased and smiled, sticking his fingers into the belt loops of his jeans and swirling his hips. You giggled at his awkward and heartfelt attempt at this show and the blush creeping over the apples of his cheeks.

You rose up and joined him, wanting to relieve him from the embarrassment. And, hell, you finally wanted to dance with him. You sidled up into his space, slotted one leg between his bow legs and circled your hips in time to his. That rhythm being something he easily adjusted to and was happy to continue. You looked up into those green eyes, wrapped your hands around his neck and felt his warm, safe hands glide up and down your back. The lyrics came to you easily and you lip synced along with him. It was corny, cheesy, unexpected, and sexy as hell.

Pony-tail and a pretty smile

Rope me in from a country mile

So come on over here and get in my arms

Spin me around this big ole barn

Tangle me up like grandma's yarn

Yeah, yeah, yeah

The brim of his cowboy hat bopped your nose during a particularly forceful pretend belting of words by Dean. “Sorry.” He spoke aloud and chuckled.

“It’s okay.” You whispered, out of breath from everything he was doing to you. “I’m so glad I took a chance on you, Dean.”

That one statement pulled you both out of the playful and flirty exploration of each other and the boundaries you’d tested. His focus on your face turned serious. And, even though the uptempo song stomped on in the background, his motions halted. His eyes drank you in, every inch of your face. His fingers danced along your jaw, curled around your neck, angling you up to him. To finally kiss you through the rest of Luke Bryan’s crooning.

Now dance, like a dandelion

In the wind on the hill underneath the pines

Yeah, move like the river flows

Feel the kick drum down deep in your toes

All I wanna do is get to holdin' you

And get to knowin' you

And get to showin' you

And get to lovin' you

'Fore the night is through

Baby, you know what to do

You’d died and gone to heaven; were positive of that fact. No man had ever had lips so soft, a mouth so determined, and knew exactly what to do with the precise amount of pressure and tongue.

As Bryan faded out, you heard the chirping of a phone. Dean broke the kiss and leaned his forehead into yours. You felt the brim of his hat on the top of your head. “Sweetheart…” The moan was a mixture of want and something else.

You sighed and knew. “Your brother.” You motioned over to the bed where his phone was. “You should go.”

He leaned down and kissed you again, placed the cowboy hat back on your head and sprinted to the phone. You did the same, found the contact of a Vegas cab company you’d put in at the start of your trip and dialed. You spoke to the weary dispatcher and repeated the name of the motel, watching Dean reply back to the text as he sat on the bed and slipped into his shoes.

“Not too far. Should only be about five minutes.” You nodded. “You can go. I’ll wait outside.”

He rubbed his thighs. “No way. You’ll wait in here with me.”

“Dean, I…”

He cut you off. “You surprised the hell out of me tonight, beautiful. You were up for everything I threw at ya.” He smiled. A genuine, heart tugging smile.

“The night could have taken a much different turn if I could have held my liquor better.”

He shrugged. “But it was still one helluva night. And, I’m glad you took the chance on me, too.” He offered his phone. “Put your number in.” You smiled and did as asked, then handed it back. He shot you a text. “There. Now, you have mine.” He pulled a business card out of his wallet. “And, here. Don’t ask questions, but if for some reason that phone stops working... call this number and say you need to get in touch with Dean Winchester.”

You read the card. “FBI Director, Mike Kayser?”

Dean raised both eyebrows.

“Okay.” You slipped the card and phone in your purse. Headlights flooded through the motel curtains. “Well, that’s my ride, I think.”

Dean stood up and opened the door, walking out into the early morning with you. The yellow cab idled in the parking lot. He waved at the driver, then turned you in his arms and stared at you hard. “You send me a text when you get into your room.”

You chuckled. “You’ll be roaming the desert like Jim Morrison by then.”

“Please.” That soft smile again.

“Okay.”

He grabbed your face with two warm palms, angled you in just the right way so he could dip down and kiss you under your cowboy hat, soft and slow. He whispered in your ear. “I wish I could be your safe bet.”

You gave him one more peck, then walked to the cab. When you opened the back door, you turned and called out. “What would be the fun in that? Flip a coin and see where it lands every once in a while, right?”

He gave you a two finger salute and smiled that Dean Winchester grin. As the driver nodded at your destination and turned out of the lot, you watched him, standing, waiting for you to disappear from view. You held onto that grin. Closed your eyes. Committed it to memory. And hoped you’d see it again.

THE END

***Luke Bryan - Country Girl (Shake It For Me)

MASTERLIST

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fan fiction #dean winchester fluff #spnfanficpond #dean x reader

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yurtletheturtlehenderson · 5 years ago

Text

S.T. REWRITE - S2:E7; Chapter Seven, The Lost Sister - [Pt. 1]

A Will Byers x Reader Series

In their search for answers, psychic visions draw Eleven and Y/n to a band of violent outcasts and an angry girl with a shadowy past.

↬ previously ↫

"Mama? It's me. Jane. I'm home."

"No."

"RUN!"

"Breathe."

"RUN!"

"Three to the right, four to the left."

"Breathe."

"Sunflower."

"Rainbow."

"Three the right."

"RUN!"

"Four fifty."

"RUN!"

"Rainbow."

"Three to the right."

"RUN!"

El rips the blindfold off her eyes in panic, her breathing heavy and uneven. As she is brought back to reality she looks up at her mother in her rocking chair. There are tears in her eyes and she is sadly uttering the same words.

"Run. Breathe. Sunflower. Rainbow. Three to the right. Four to the left."

El feels a pair of arms wrap gently around her and she can feel her own shaking, her shoulders rising and falling rapidly. She feels a hand grab hers and she knows it's Y/n. She squeezes her hand for comfort and Y/n gently runs her thumb over the back of her hand, showing her support.

No one says anything for a while, and apart from her mother's mumbling, she sits in silence embracing the support given to her as she tries to calm her racing heart.

||3rd Person POV||

"And it just kept repeating?" Becky asks.

The three had returned to the kitchen, Becky and El sitting across one another while Y/n stood leaning against the counter behind El, a glass of water in hand. El frowned at the foreign word.

"Repeat?"

"Like a circle?" Becky answered. "Just showing you the same image over and over?"

El thought bout this, and her eyes glanced in Y/n's direction without moving her head.

"She kept showing the woman, and the girl in the room."

"The rainbow room?"

El nodded, flinching ever so slightly at the invasion of a flashback. A memory that wasn't hers, trapped in her mind.

Becky thought about this, her fingers drummed lightly against the back of her hand lost in thought. She shrugged, her hand waving slightly before falling back onto the table.

"I guess that makes sense, Terry always believed you weren't the only..." Becky trailed off, her eyes fixed on the other young girl in her kitchen.

Y/n had her eyes fixed on the tile floor, her glass of water she had been refilling from the kitchen sink gripped tightly in hand though it hung lazily against her chest. She seemed to be lost in thought, though she must have only been listening. Her e/c eyes left the floor when she noticed Becky had stopped talking and she looked between her and El, curiously as if she had missed something.

But then she noted that Becky's eyes bad fallen to her glass and Y/n's eyes followed. The water had begun to bubble only slightly, but it was all too visible through the crystal glass. Y/n's eyes widened, quickly she set the cup down on the counter and the bubbles disappeared within seconds. She cleared her throat, uncomfortable with the attention and her eyes fell to the floor once more. Save for a few glances at Becky, who eyed her curiously.

Becky spoke finally, in response to El, although her eyes were still drawn to Y/n.

"The woman she kept showing you, what did she look like?"

In the time between El departure from her mother's mind, and their current discussion at the table, El had briefly filled them in on each image she was shown to the best of her ability. And while they had gotten the picture, it was still out of focus, details were fuzzy and hard to identify.

That was, until now.

El thought about the question, she had only seen it played out normally once, and the woman was at a great distance. But this didn't stop her from trying. She spoke slowly with a frown on her face as she reached farther and farther into her memory.

"She was pretty." She began, smiling sadly. "She had [h/l] [h/t] [h/c] hair. And [s/c] skin. She was [y/h]."

El met her aunt's gaze and nodded, confirming her suspicions.

"I think..." she turned to her best friend, who watched with teary eyes. "It was your mom."

"My- My mom, she showed you my mom?"

El nodded sadly. Y/n looked between Becky and El shifted on her feet, wringing her hands nervously.

"So, my mom, she's...?" Y/n took a deep breath and attempted to swallow the lump in her throat.

El nodded, and for a moment studied the body language of her friend. El didn't quite have a read on body language, but she knew enough to know her best friend was in great distress. Tentatively, she reached out her arm over the back of the wooden chair and extended her hand, offering what Y/n had offered her countless times in their friendship. Support and understanding.

Y/n graciously took her hand and sniffled. Though it proved fruitless and she stepped forward, and grabbed a napkin from the center of the table and blew her nose before sitting down between Becky and El. She wiped her nose and looked to El.

"Why did they take her? Why did they, you know... What did she do?"

El's gaze fell to the table and she thought about it.

"I'm not sure. She said Mama could still make it. That she knew where to go."

Becky sighed, capturing the two girls' attention and she planted her face in her hands. She rubbed her eyes tiredly and swept her hands across her face before addressing Y/n and El.

"You two have to realize, I only did what I thought was best for Terry. I really thought all those things, that happened to her, that it had affected her. That's why I didn't believe her."

They looked at her curiously, having already understood this. She anxiously met their eye before looking away again.

"But another thing she told me, something she insisted before she," Becky faltered, and gestured to her sister in the other room. "Terry thought she could have gotten you out. Terry thought she could have gotten you out because someone else did."

"For the longest time, she was telling me about [y/m/n]. I didn't really believe her, but according to her another woman had a baby," Becky paused, looking at Y/n briefly who was listening intently. "A special baby. Like you, El. And they wanted her, but according to Terry, and I guess, what you saw, she really did get her baby out."

Something clicked in Y/n's mind, and she focused carefully on the intricate patterns of the wooden table as her mind brought the pieces into place.

"I was found." She muttered.

El and Becky shared a look before returning their attention to her.

"My mom and Dustin - my brother, he was no bigger than I was at the time," she added last minute to Becky. "was in town, visiting family. And mom said they found me."

She shook her head and scoffed lightly in disbelief. Tears streaming freely down her S/C cheeks.

"On a walk. She said she stepped out to get some air, and she heard me crying... the neighborhood, I guess, was on the edge of the woods or something," Y/n blubbered, she wiped her nose with her napkin once more and took several deep breaths. "All I had was a thin blanket, I hadn't even been properly cleaned. Mom always said it was a miracle I didn't freeze to death out there,"

El tilted her head, clearly confused. "Miracle?"

"A very very good thing that isn't usual, or expected."

Becky explained.

"Anyway," Y/n sniffled, cracking the smallest of smiles. "I guess that answers that question, I kept myself warm."

A weak chuckle escaped her and El smiled weakly. Becky didn't understand but Y/n quickly explained.

"It wasn't until last year I found out I had... powers."

After all this time, Y/n still felt a little silly saying it. It didn't help that she almost never spoke it aloud but she guess in this instance she could.

"To be perfectly honest I'm still finding things I didn't know I could do."

"That doesn't really surprise me," Becky piped. "Then again, it's getting kinda hard to surprise me at the moment. Terry went on about you a lot. She said they were after [y/m/n]'s daughter because she- you were supposed to have-"

Becky stopped, the same words from last year popping back into her mind. The same words she told that Byers woman and the chief.

"Supposedly had some 'untapped potential for the greater good.' Some real pseudoscience shit."

She bit her lip before she could say the words and Y/n's frown hardened. She leaned forward, urgently.

"What?"

Becky looked at the kid before her, her eyes were pleading and she already felt guilty. But she also couldn't dump such a heavy load on a child, especially after she had learned what she just learned.

Becky sighed and looked at the girl.

"Potential. Apparently, whoever was after you had plenty of reasons to believe that you can do a whole lot more than boil some water. Let's just leave it at that."

She said, gesturing with her eyes to the forgotten glass of water sitting on the counter. Y/n gave her an incredulous look.

"What do you-? That can't be right. I mean, sure my mom must have been, well you know experimented on when she was pregnant with me, but I didn't grow up in a lab like El. I wasn't trained, or-"

She stopped, choosing her words carefully.

"I never learned how to use my powers. How could I have any more potential than El?"

Becky shrugged her shoulders and looked between the girls.

"I really don't know sweetie, to be honest, I'm still getting used to the fact that all this stuff is real."

A defeated sigh escaped her chest and her chin came to rest on her hand, propped up by her arms resting on the surface of the coffee table. There was a brief silence apart from the mumbles of the television and El allowed herself to dwell on the loop of borrowed memories playing over in her head.

"The girl," She reminds, tentative. "She also kept showing me the girl."

Y/n turned to her, quizzically, the gears turning in her head.

"What about her, El?"

"I think Mama wants us to find her."

A frown found it's way onto Y/n's face but she allowed her friend the benefit of the doubt. She was unsure about all of this, but unlike El's aunt, she was still in the process of swallowing all of this new information herself. The girl looked at Becky and she nodded in thought, before rising from the table. El and Y/n followed curiously as she led them into the next room, the small office space adjoining the living room. Becky bent over and pulled open a drawer from a steel filing cabinet, it was filled with several manilla folders.

"When Terry was looking for you," Becky began, her fingers riffling through the dozens of file folders. "She kept these files of other missing kids. Kids she thought were like you."

Without glancing back at them, Becky grabbed a small handful of files and dropped on the floor near Y/n and El's feet while she kept searching. Immediately, the pair of friends knelt down to the ground and began pouring over the folders.

"Maybe that girl is in here somewhere." Becky finished, grabbing the last of the folders before joining the girls on the carpet.

Y/n and El had each taken a folder, and anytime Y/n had happened across a photo she would show to El. But she would only shake her head. Y/n did keep an eye put for any possible leads as to her possible birth mother. She had a first name and a description. But that something. And something she could certainly keep an eye out for.

"Does anyone look familiar?" Becky asked hopefully.

She was met with silence as El continued to riffle through her folder. El had nearly reached the end when she unexpectedly froze, grabbing the attention of the other two in her company. Before either her friend or her aunt could attempt to sneak a glimpse of the photo, El grabbed the photocopy and closed the folder. It was another newspaper article, featuring a photo of a very young girl with braids. The caption read, "VANISHED! Indian Girl Missing in London".

"Is that her?" Becky asked softly.

El looked up, her heart racing, and nodded.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

El found herself in the void for the third time that day. Her toes sinking into the imaginary water, and she was greeted by the usual chill. Like a visible mantra, she repeats the image of the girl her mother had shown her, not the picture she held in her hands. The girl in the rainbow room, the girl playing with blocks, and before she knows it El can hear a small crackling behind her.

She turns and much to her relief, her hopeful heart spiking, she sees a figure standing in the distance. The figure had their back turned to El and they were standing over a large metal barrel with fire bubbling over the top. It was a very strange sight to El, but in a way, it was quite rewarding. El had finally found some luck, this being the first sign of the girl she had found since her first attempt.

After finding the article, she had set out to search for the girl with no such luck. Night had fallen by now and Y/n had thanked her past self for packing an extra set of clothes. Y/n was wary of staying the night but ultimately agreed they needed more information. Becky was more than accommodating, she had pulled out a futon for the girls to share where they now lay. Few words were exchanged, given the tremendous load, the friends had been through. Though they still managed to crack a smile when El had learned from Y/n what the term sleepover meant.

"Thanks for bringing me along El," Y/n mumbled, wrapped under their shared blanket, head sinking into her pillow.

El had turned her head to look at her friend and nodded simply. Between themselves, Y/n was slightly better at holding a conversation, but it was nice. Y/n never pressured her to talk.

"I'm sorry it wasn't under better circumstances, but, at least we get to have our first sleepover," she whispered sleepily.

Y/n quickly noted the confusion on her friend's face, and smiled weakly, fighting the weight of her heavy eyelids.

"A sleepover is something best friends do. Stay at each other's houses, usually, they watch a movie or play a game or something but, "Y/n trailed off, a yawn escaping her. "Well, you know. But you get to talk after dark, and even see each other in the morning. The point is, it's nice that we get to spend some time together."

El found herself smiling at the words and her spirits perked for the first time since their arrival. It gave El a spark of hope. Hope that, when all of this was figured out, and everything had smoothed over. That maybe she could have a normal life. A normal life with her aunt and she could have a real chance at seeing Mike, and having sleepovers with Y/n, and playing outside and just being a kid. But that was on the back burner. She needed to find this girl, she had done what she had set out to do, she found her mother and she couldn't help but feel like her mother was telling her something. To seek out this girl.

And that's just what she had to do.

It wasn't long until Y/n had turned over on her side, mumbling a soft goodnight before she was fast asleep. But El was still wide awake. Her mother's memories were still plaguing her and she felt restless. El picked up the picture of the girl from the newspaper, she had kept it in her pocket and she decided to herself that another attempt wouldn't hurt.

So here she was, creeping cautiously towards her fate with bated breath. Guardedly, she calls out to figure, smoke flocking into the air from where the makeshift firepit stands before it.

"Hello?"

She approaches the figure and as she gets closer and closer her suspicions are quickly confirmed when she recognizes the figure. The girl, as she was in her mother's memories, she was a few years older than herself. And she was dressed in dark shabby clothing, and her hair looks, purple? El isn't sure, but her heart is hammering much too hard in her chest to worry and before she has time to glance at her face she is gasping for breathing, back in reality.

Excitedly, she turns to Y/n, but she is lost in sleep and she allows her friend a few more minutes. Like herself, she had been through a great deal and it seemed to have taken a toll on her. But she would tell her aunt. She practically jumps from the mattress, and bursts into the hallway, running for stairs. Fighting the urge to shout, she calls out to her aunt when she reaches the top of the stairs.

"Becky! Becky, I found her!"

When she reaches the kitchen, she looks around excitedly for the woman, surely she would know what to do next. Only seconds pass until she tubes into her aunt's voice carrying from the other room.

"I just-- I didn't know who to call."

El steps further into the kitchen, her head peeking around the corner to find her aunt Becky, phone to her ear. She was talking anxiously into the phone as she paced across her back porch, the door ajar as she glanced at a slip of paper.

"He gave me this number, and he came here looking for her. I thought maybe he could help me."

El felt a sick feeling bubble up in her stomach, and a dark and heavy weight settle onto her heart as she watched the all too familiar exchange. It reminded her of the nice man that took her in when she first escaped. But she desperately attempts to put that memory from her mind.

"Yeah, Jim Hopper, he came here with some woman named Joyce Byers?"

El watches disgusted and hurt as her only remaining family turns her in. Their own private conversation from before plays mockingly over in her head. Of when she was invited to stay. In the lovely, and comforting room that was supposed to be hers. And although her mom wasn't the same, she could still be with her. And just as soon as it had come, the dream life she had conjured for herself just minutes ago, evaporated into thin air. A normal life with no rules, where she could go outside, or at the very least, look out of a single window.

Visits with Mike, sleepovers with Y/n. A normal life. Gone. Just like that.

"Well," sighed Becky, her figure temporarily stepping out of view. "that's a little hard to explain. Uh..."

El shifted uneasily, the dark sludge in her stomach only multiplying in volume at what Becky mentioned next.

"There's another girl, two actually, uh, she came here with a friend of hers? I don't know much, but it sounds like the kid comes from the same side of the tracks as the other but as far as I know, she's got a family. Said she was adopted... No, I did not, I did not catch a last name but she goes by Y/n. Look, I don't if she's a runaway, or what, but she showed up at my doorstep with the other and I just put them to bed... No, mam, it's just those two, but I think another one is missing. I just, I just didn't know who to call... Thank you, thank you. And you are?"

"Florence," Becky repeated, though she paused when she heard the distant sound of the front door opening.

"I'm gonna have to call you back." She mumbled nervously into the phone, though she is already steadily on her way to the kitchen counter.

Discarding the phone and the slip of paper, she looks on in disbelief as she finds the contents of her purse spilling out across the counter. And in the center, wide open and empty, her leather wallet.

Picking up her speed she races through the front room and towards the front door, it remains wide open and the cold autumn wind seeping in hits her like the brisk reality she faces.

And like the dreams El had conjured, the girls were gone as easily as they came.

+++

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ask-your-fav-spiderling · 5 years ago

Text

hello everyone and welcome to the-

✨ morgan's attempted murderers' tier list ✨

it took a little longer than an hour, but in my defense i fell asleep like half way through making this :\

let's break it down!

now we start with the a-tier, these are the people that i feel get a free pass for any attempted harm on me.

the only people in this tier are all normal criminals. just your run of the mill thieves and "henchmen" i guess? i don't know, i understand that most of the time they do bad stuff out of necessity. would appreciate if they didn't stab me along the way, but hey! you win some you lose some

onto tier-b, these are the people i'm a little less lenient with, but i genuinely enjoy

starting us off we have, doc oc! what can i say, even when he tries to drown me he's a funny old man. i mean, the whole "peter" thing is a bit annoying, but i've learned to embrace it. he's also b-tier because i liked his tv show a lot

next is my bus driver! he's a nice dude, should not be in charge of a bus of children though. he nearly ran me over when i was like 12 and if i wasn't holding a grudge for that he would be in a-tier

next is c-tier! these are the ones that make me go, "eh." their pure existence is mediocre.

the only person here is electro. he barely talks to me when we fight, and my tiny body can only handle so much electricity.

now d-tier, these are the people i just don't like. they aren't fun or even boring, they just make me upset.

most oscorp employees. i think it is an actual requirement to try to kill me now. its in the contract. if i step 100 ft from any oscorp property someone comes out to try and shoot me u_u

mr. kent, or the vulture if i'm not in the mood to think about the B he gave me. stinky. bootlicker. decided that the bird theme was a good idea. the least hated man on the "men i know and trusted who have harmed me," that isn't much of a compliment

that one 10th grade boy. what can i say, 10th graders are mean :(

now time for e-tier! i hate everyone in this tier with a passion. if i ever come close to the people here i will throw them out a window. them's the rules

norman osborn. never tried to kill me on his own but you know. sending some dude to kill me and then killing your son in the process? pretty cringe dude.

i joke but sincerely, i will make it so you can't move without being in excruciating pain, mr. osborn :)

and last but not least, f-tier. these are the people i can't even think about without crying. i am terrified constantly because of them. i would actually die if i fought these people right now

first we have mysterio. maybe its the whole " i will recognize your need for a stable father figure in you life and i will pretend to be that so you'll open up to me, and give me material for my entertainment" thing that threw me off. my favorite color used to be green. thanks becky

and finally, the end of the list! drum roll please-

my parents.

...

-and with that, thank y'all for reading. my asks are always open, i hope you have a great day! i spent way too much time on this!!

#i truly believe this is the worst thing ive made #oh well #long post #spidersona #spiderling

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weeb-alcove · 4 years ago

Text

2019 English Playlist

https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL77pv5URcE8b4_k9_GQYZoQYz_HhRDP2D

In English:

“99″ - Barns Courtney

10ft - Eileen Yo

5 Seconds of Summer Babylon Easier Lie to Me Teeth

88rising History Midsummer Madness ♪ from their album Head in the Clouds II ♬ Breathe I Love You 3000 II Indigo Strange Land These Nights

Affection - Between Friends

Aftertaste - Whethan

Ain’t Goin Back - Russ

Alan Walker Are You Lonely Different World Do It All for You Lily On My Way Play

All Fall Down - Johnny Glenn & Ally Hills & Just Juice

All Over Again (remix) - Lost You & Michael Moawad

Another Summer Night Without You - Alexander 23

Aphrodite - Rini

Ariana Grande Esta Noche ♪ from her album thank u, next ♬ bloodline in my head NASA

Arms Around You - XXXTentacion & Swae Lee & Lil Pump

Ava Max Freaking Me Out (Bingo Players remix) Not Your Barbie Girl So Am I

Bae - Trevor Wesley

Bars and Melody Lighthouse (Dave Winnel remix) Waiting for the Sun

Bazzi Caught in the Fire Focus Mine Myself No Way!

Beat of My Drum - Powers

Benee Evil Spider Find an Island Glitter Monsta Want Me Back Wishful Thinking

Better Not - Louis the Child

Big Sean Berzerk Single Again

Billie Eilish everything i wanted When I Was Older ♪ from her album WHEN WE ALL FALL ASLEEP, WHERE DO WE GO? ♬ 8 bad guy bury a friend ilomilo my strange addiction wish you were gay xanny

Birthday Party - AJR

Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz

broken - lovelytheband

Caffeine and Dopamine - Keepitinside

Camila Cabello Find U Again Señorita ♪ from her album Romance ♬ Bad Kind of Butterflies Liar My Oh My Shameless Should’ve Said It

Cardi B Money Please Me

Catch Feelings - Henry Young & Zachary

Céline - Gallant

Cemetery - Coin

Chanel - Frank Ocean

Chase - Aaron Carpenter

Cherry Cola - Kuwada

Cigarette - offonoff & Tablo & MISO

Clairo Sofia Throwaway

Close to Me - Ellie Goulding & Diplo & Swae Lee

Cold - Boy In Space & unheard

Come My Way - Plvtinum

Conan Gray Generation Why Greek God Maniac The King

Creep - Radiohead (GAMPER remix & Dadoni & Ember Island)

Crush - Lucian & Tiffany Day

Crying My Eyes Out - Stephen Puth

Crystal Dolphin - Engelwood

Dangerous Love - Justice Carradine

David Guetta Better When You’re Gone Blame It on Love

Daya Insomnia Left Me Yet Wanted

Don’t Be Gone Too Long - Chris Brown

Don’t Lie to Me - Lena

Don’t Start Now - Dua Lipa

Eric Nam ♪ from his album Before We Begin ♬ Congratulations Love Die Young

Everything - TobyMac

Eyes Wide Shut - Glades

Falling - Trevor Daniel

Fine - Rufus

Finneas I Don’t Miss You at All Let’s Fall in Love for the Night

Fitz and the Tantrums Hand Clap Out of My League

Flower - Johnny Stimson

Friends - Feyde

Funeral - Miguel

G-Eazy 1942 Nadie Como Tu

Get Away - Ed Black

Giants - Becky G & Keke Palmer & Soyeon & Duckwrth & Thutmose

Glass Animals Life Itself The Other Side of Paradise

Greyson Chance Boots Shut Up

Halsey Eastside Graveyard

Heart in Tokyo - Good Gasoline

Heartstrings - STVN & Jenna Carlie

Her - Alex Aiono

Hey Violet Better by Myself Queen of the Night

High School - Umi

Hometown Smile - Bahjat

Honne Crying Over You Day 1

How Do You Sleep? - Sam Smith

IDK - Bruce Wiegner

I Fall in Like Too Easily - Ashton Arbab

I Feel Love - Suggi

If I Can’t Have You - Shawn Mendes

If You Need Me - Julia Michaels

If You’re Over Me - Years & Years

I Heart You - Baby Ariel

I’ll Be There - King Henry & Sasha Sloan

ILYA - Fly By Midnight

In Betweenin’ - Austin Brown

Indiana Massara Apology Smoke in My Eyes

i think i love you (but i dont like you) - push baby

It’s Not You It’s Me - 6LACK & Bea Miller

Japanese Denim - Daniel Caesar

Jaymes Young Infinity Northern Lights

Joji Sanctuary Test Drive Yeah Right

Jonas Brothers Only Human Sucker

Juliet - Sebastian Javier

June - Sage Charmaine

Just My Luck - Tia Ray & Kehlani

Kailee Morgue Go to Sleep Headcase

Katy Perry 365 Harleys in Hawaii

Kiss Me Thru the Phone - Soulja Boy

Lalala - Y2K, bbno$

Last Hurrah - Bebe Rexha

Lauv Drugs & the Internet I’m So Tired

Lava Lamp - Dandi

Left to Right - Marteen

Lennon Stella La Di Da Polaroid Workin’ on It

Lifeguard - iamnotshane

Lovefool - The Cardigans

Love Me Wrong - Allie X & Troye Sivan

Love You Like That - Dagny

Madison Beer Fools Hurts Like Hell

Maggie Lindemann Friends Go Would I

MAGIC! Girl at Coachella Lay You Down Easy

Make You Mine - Public

Mango Love - Shawn Wasabi & SATICA

Mask - joe.k

MAX Love Me Less One Two Things Worship

Middle of the Night - Monsta X

Miss Americana & the Heartbreak Prince - Taylor Swift

MØ Blur Don’t Leave Kamikaze Nostalgia On & On Red Wine

Mona Lisa - Valntn & Peter Fenn

mxmtoon Blame Game Prom Dress

My Family - Karol G & Migos & Rock Mafia & Snoop Dogg

Nobody - Emilee

No Sleep - Martin Garrix & Bonn

Nostalgia - The Beamish Brothers

NOTD Keep You Mine Romantic (NOTD remix) So Close

Ocean Man - Ween

October - Alessia Cara

Oh Wonder I Wish I Never Met You Super Love

Only You - Cheat Codes & Little Mix

On the Low - Justin Park

Pardon Me - Dion

Permission - New Hope Club

Pharmacy - Isaac Dunbar

Pink - No Rome

Post Malone ♪ from his album Hollywood’s Bleeding ♬ A Thousand Bad Times Circles Die for Me Goodbyes Take What You Want

PRETTYMUCH Blind Solita

Quinn XCII U & Us Wayback (remix)

R3HAB All Comes Back To You Don’t Give Up on Me Now Lullaby This Is How We Party

Raincoat - Kieron Lee & Chloe Ho

Rebels - Ivy Adara

Red Sippy Cup - Ellis G & Tristen the God

Rei Brown Picture Frames Real Love

Rescue Me - OneRepublic

Right Now - Nick Jonas & Robin Schulz

Rolex - Ayo & Teo

Roots - Galantis & Valerie Broussard

Roxanne - Arizona Zervas

Ruel Free Time Real Thing Younger

Say It to My Face - Maty Noyes

Selena Gomez Bad Liar I Can’t Get Enough

Sick Thoughts - Lewis Blissett

Skeletons - keshi

Speechless - Dan + Shay

Stay Home - Faye Risakotta

Sugarplum Elegy - Niki

Summer Love - Hyu

Summer Time High Time - Cuco & J-Kwe$t

Summertime in Paris - Jaden & Willow

Suncity - Khalid & Empress Of

Superfruit - Maude Latour

Sweet Little Lies - bülow

Swimming in Your Feelings - Haven

Talking Loud - Jennifer Zhang

Tell Me - Mika-Intersection

tell me how you rly feel - adam&steve & Lostboycrow

Tessa Violet Bad Ideas Crush

Thank You - Junny

The Chainsmokers Family Kills You Slowly Takeaway

The Vamps All Night All the Lies Can We Dance Just My Type Middle of the Night Missing You Somebody to You We Don’t Care

Think About Me - dvsn

Tired - Jasmine Sokko

Tomorrow Tonight - Loote

Virtual Reality - ieuan

Waste My Time - Grace VanderWaal

Why Don’t We Come to Brazil I Don’t Belong in This Club I Still Do Mad At You Unbelievable What Am I (Casualkimono remix)

Why Don’t We - Austin Mahone

Why Haven’t I Met You? - Cameron Dallas

Woke Up Late - Drax Project & Hailee Steinfield

Yellow Hearts - Ant Saunders

Yoandri All the Way Bravo Cherry on Top It’ll Be Ok Only You

You & Me - Marc E. Bassy

You Got Issues - spring gang & Amaranthine

Young the Giant Apartment Cough Syrup

Zayn Rumors There You Are

In French:

Tous Les Mêmes - Stromae

In Spanish:

Rebeca - Mc Livinho & Gerex & Maejor

Teléfono - Aitana (remix with Lele Pons)

Electronic:

Monster Gambling in Tokyo - Idealism

Sorry I Like You - Burbank

Sunset Lover - Petit Biscuit

#music #2019 #english

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recentanimenews · 4 years ago

Text

FEATURE SERIES: My Favorite One Piece Arc with Maffew

I love One Piece and I love talking to people who love One Piece. And with the series going on 23 years now, there is a whole lot to talk about. As the series is about to publish its 1000th chapter, a true feat in and of itself, we thought we should reflect upon the high-seas adventure and sit down with some notable names in the One Piece fan community and chat about the arcs they found to be especially important, or just ones they really, really liked.

Welcome to the next article in the series "My Favorite One Piece Arc!"

My next guest in this series is Maffew, creator of the popular pro wrestling web series Botchamania. For my chat with him, he chose the Alabasta Arc, in which Luffy and his crew not only have to save a desert kingdom but also topple Baroque Works and its powerful leader Crocodile.

A note on spoilers: If you haven't seen the Alabasta arc yet, this interview does contain major plot points. Watch the Alabasta arc starting RIGHT HERE if you'd like to catch up or rewatch!

Dan Dockery: So I guess my first basic question is, let’s say for some reason, I got to the end of Drum Island and I said “Well, One Piece ends here for me. This seems like a good finale.” What would you tell me to keep me going into the Alabasta Arc in one sentence?

Maffew: Well, after Chopper has made all the kids cry, you’ll need pickin’ up.

That’s pretty good! What was the impetus for you getting into One Piece? What made you want to jump into an anime that’s nearly one thousand episodes long at this point?

I think I tried watching it on YouTube back in 2009, and I just couldn’t get into it. At that point in my life, I wasn’t ready for a character like Luffy and his adventures, and I couldn’t wait for the villains he fought to kill him. So I dropped it. A year later, I’m in Germany and this wrestler ACH was doing a Q&A panel for this German wrestling organization called WXW. And ACH is a REALLY big One Piece fan, and even dresses up as Luffy in New Japan and Ring of Honor. And I was like “Hey, you watching JoJo?” because that was my thing at the time, and he was like “No, no. Just One Piece.” I said, “What else are you watching?” “Just One Piece.” And I’m like “Wait, what? Just the one?” But he was sellin’ it to me like he was a One Piece ad on QVC. And guys like Steve Yurko are so passionate about it, and if one person tells ya to watch something, you’re like “Eh, whatever,” but if five people tell you, you start to pay attention. So I’m gonna blame ACH and my good friend Steve Yurko for this.

What do you like about this arc in particular?

You get so much wonderful worldbuilding. They go to Alabasta, meet up with Mr. 2, and it’s one of those cool interactions where they’re meeting, but they don’t know who they are meeting exactly, like when they meet Blackbeard in Jaya. So later on, they’re like “Oh, it’s THEM!” There’s a real sense of everything not being really pre-determined at this point. It’s building everything through a bunch of pirates just doing stuff. Ace shows up, knocks out some assassins so he can get his royalty checks.

That’s such a funny way to put it.

Then we get Kung-Fu Dugongs, and they’re a pretty pure expression of One Piece. They’re all synchronized, they’re adorable, they play their part amid all the serious stuff, and they’re completely ridiculous, but they work anyway. And it’s with Alabasta that Eiichiro Oda starts to perfect the tropes that he puts into place throughout, with the new islands, the new leader who everyone loves but is actually a bad person, the crew having to deal with him and the Navy, them having to help put someone back in their position, etc. And even though, on paper, it reads like “Well, he’s gotta beat this dude and this dude and this dude,” it’s so much more chaotic and less formulaic than you’d expect. It keeps things interesting.

I agree. I like how he takes all of these pieces and he’s consistent with them, but Oda always plays around with how he sets them up.

But it’s all a foot massage before the real reason to watch Alabasta: Sir Croc.

Are you a big fan of him? That dude is so cool, conniving and powerful. He’s kinda the perfect villain.

Back when I was being miserable and first watching One Piece, I really liked him. I like the design, the sand powers that could actually pose a threat. I always appreciate it when a villain provides actual tension. It’s like why I think Goldeneye is still the best James Bond film. Because Alec Trevelyan is constantly reminding Bond “Remember, I could kill you. I’m from the same place as you. I can take your exploding watch and just, eh, I’ll stop that then. Thank you.” And Luffy loses twice to him in the three-match structure that really works here as it did for wrestling in the 70s.

How so?

So you’d have somebody like champion Bruno Sammartino and someone like Ivan Koloff or one of the Wild Samoans or Stan Stasiak. They’d have one match where the hero would beat Bruno by disqualification. Bruno’s still around to fight, but he’s lost. Luffy survives being thrown in the sand, but he’s been beaten. Then they have the second match, where Bruno would win because the villain would just give up and leave and get counted out. Luffy attacks Crocodile with water, but it’s not enough, and Crocodile just kinda leaves Luffy thinking it’s all done. And then Bruno would be like “Oh no ya don’t. Next time, you won’t be able to escape, because we’re gonna be in a cage match.” And then Bruno wins, just like Luffy wins by punching Crocodile up through that giant enclosed space. He escapes the cage.

It’s just so satisfying and that’s a great way to describe it. So, villains in the series have had extensive crew members before, but they haven’t been as recognizable and colorful as Croc’s crew, Baroque Works. Do you have a favorite member?

They’re all good in their own way, but at this point, I’m gonna go with Mr. 2. Eh, that’s probably too obvious an answer…

Mr. 2 is a lot of people’s favorite member.

Oh, who cares. I’ll go with Mr. 2. I like how Mr. 2 interacts with everyone, having fun with the boys and fighting Sanji with kicks but respecting him.

So, in this arc, there’s a lot of government intrigue and a revolution is about to happen, and everyone’s dissatisfied with their perception of the monarchy. How did you react to all of this political drama in One Piece?

Well, it’s great because you have Vivi, and you get to learn her motivations and because she’s on the crew, it gives you a reason to care for the crew and how all of the political intrigue affects them. Without her, you’d just hear about a war and say “Oh, sorry about that. Hope it goes well.” And with all this lore being thrown at you because you have Vivi and that connection, it’s adding to the main conflict, rather than distracting.

Yeah, Vivi really grounds it all with a personal attachment. Because otherwise it’s just savin’ the kingdom, which is cool and they’re good for it, but it doesn’t have the same impact. So, they did this back in the Arlong Park arc, but what returns here is the kind of 1 vs 1 match structure, where a member or members of the enemy crew are matched up against a Straw Hat or Hats. Mr. 1 has knife body parts, so he’s obviously gonna fight Zoro. Mr. 2 kicks and Sanji kicks, etc. What do you think about that kind of matchmaking, because it’s also a little wrestling-esque.

Yeah, right, like if you have D-Generation X fighting the Nation of Domination, you can’t just have The Rock fighting Triple H. Ya gotta have D’Lo Brown vs X-Pac and The Godfather vs Billy Gunn. I like it because the characters feel like they have to prove themselves, like Zoro’s a swordsman, and he’s gotta test himself against another swordsman. And Usopp does it when he fights Mr. 4 and Miss Merry Christmas with Chopper, because they have a weird dynamic and they’re fighting two people and they have no clue what they’re up against.

So, at the end of the arc, they do the iconic “We can’t let Vivi become associated with pirates so we’ll hold up the X symbols on our arms in solidarity” pose. What did you think about that? Because it’s one of the most famous images in One Piece, and it’s hard to avoid it, even if you’ve never watched the series. Was that your first time seeing it?

It actually was. And I’m glad you brought this up because I was watching it and I thought “Wait, they’re just going? They’re not even keeping the duck?” And then they do that with the X and the original opening starts playing and I get goosebumps just remembering it. That really hit me. Because it finally got me really emotionally invested in the series. Made me feel a bit cheeky.

ONE PIECE LIGHTNING ROUND!

So, considering you’re such a huge pro wrestling fan, your lightning round is gonna be a bit different. I’m gonna say a Straw Hat that’s in the crew at this point and you tell me which wrestler they’re the most like. You can also tell me what time period they’d fit the most in, since wrestler personalities tend to change. So, Luffy?

Gotta be Cena. Specifically? With Luffy’s attitude? Probably 2015 defending-the-United States-Championship John Cena.

Zoro?

He’s all business, he likes to fight. So I gotta go with Cesaro.

Sanji?

Going with Eddie Guerrero.

Usopp?

That character is all over wrestling - the underdog who isn’t very good and uses every trick in the book to win. Gonna go with MJF. He had one of my favorite matches of this year against Cody Rhodes and he just had to use EVERYTHING to beat him - brass knuckles, distraction, chairs, everything he could to get that win. But he could be MJF, could be The Miz, could be Mikey Whipwreck from ECW, take your pick.

Nami?

Hmmm. Becky Lynch.

Chopper?

KeMonito

Robin?

Oh, she shows up after being booed for ages and you’re supposed to like her, so 2019 Charlotte Flair.

Stay tuned for the next installment of "My Favorite One Piece Arc" as we speak with One Piece's official English manga translator Stephen Paul on his favorite One Piece arc: Skypiea!!

Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Daniel Dockery

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

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