#its such an interesting thing just chucked at you in the midst of everything else happening

[zekkopunks]

replaying mother 3 and now I can’t stop having leder’s speech in the back of my mind everytime I go around tazmily and seeing all the villagers

[lizbotw]

bet 😼 sukuna + knee socks by arctic monkeys

SUKUNA | KNEE SOCKS

ayo here u go u bully ♡

“A special grade weapon,” you mumble, clicking your pen. The worn cover of the book is soft in your palm, the weight of the pages straining your wrist, but you don’t put it down, finding interest in the outline of what looks like an ordinary sword printed on the page.

The drawing is simple, but the tell-tale carving of a symbol on the hilt tells you all you need to know. “Saitama Prefecture... leaving at eight in the morning.” The words slip out under your breath as you scratch out the details for tomorrow’s mission on the paper next to you—standard “reclaiming cursed gear” things, of course. You should be back in time for lunch.

The creak of a floorboard as someone rounds the corner into the common area is soft despite their heavy steps, and you miss it in the midst of turning another page of the encyclopedia of cursed weapons Gojou had given you.

“I was looking for you.” The voice that startles you is low and annoyed and you find yourself both relaxed and freezing up at the knowledge that it’s Sukuna.

You’d graduated from Jujutsu Tech some time ago, but everyone still kept in touch and the school was essentially your “base” whenever missions came up (you were, after all, “real” sorcerers now). Lo and behold, Itadori of all people had been called in to be paired up with you for this one. When you had heard that, of course you were excited—you hadn’t seen Itadori in two months—but there was also the nagging thought at the back of your mind that that also meant seeing the King of Curses (who you were apprehensive of for reasons completely different than everyone else).

“What are you doing?” Sukuna—when had he gotten so close?—leans on the back of the couch, head in palm and looking over your shoulder. You can’t tell if he’s feigning interest or if he actually cares.

The book in your hand shuts with a thud before you can let him scan over it and you stuff the page you had been writing on just inside the cover before chucking the heavy volume off to the side. “Nothing.” (Whatever relationship you had with him didn’t exactly mean you thought you could trust him with everything, especially when it came to things like this.)

You twist in your seat to look up at him, fighting back the grin you always seemed to have whenever you saw him (oh, you were in deep for sure). “What did you want?”

He’s staring at you—really studying you—but then breaks eye contact, gaze running down to regard what you’re wearing and then briefly resting on the book you had discarded on the cushions before making its way back to your face. “Wanted to see what idiotic thing you were up to this time.” His answer is clipped and you find it funny, breaking out into a smile.

“Aww, did you miss me?”

Sukuna scowls—“Hardly.” The silence that settles afterwards is thick, but anything but awkward—the teasing tone of what you had said spoke louder than any words. You knew he missed you and he knew you knew.

Sitting just a few inches away from him, your heart is heavy with anticipation and you’re hyper aware of every puff of breath that slips past your lips. The very second you see him tilt his head to lean in, you do the same, meeting him halfway. When Sukuna kisses you, there’s a familiar warmth on your cheek as he rests his hand there to hold you in place (not that you would pull away anyway).

You don’t ask him how he’s switched out with Itadori this time (you can’t find it in yourself to care at this moment), just like how he doesn’t bring up for the umpteenth time (in that stupidly hot, mocking tone of his) how you shouldn’t be doing any of this with him, how scandalized the Jujutsu world would be if they found out, how you truthfully have the worst moral compass in a human he’s ever seen (not that you could bring yourself to care about those things either, even if they’re all painfully true).

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2020 Day 20: Mutual Pining

An Old Feeling | @deservetobesaved

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1741 Main Tags/Warnings: post season 12, jealous!dean, love confession Summary: Castiel thinks Dean will never love him back so he decides to try and move on. Cue jealous!Dean and confessions galore.

To Catch a Spark | zaphodsgirl (AO3)

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 2364 Main Tags/Warnings: Misunderstandings, Fluff Summary: Cas has been acting pretty clumsy lately and Dean is a little worried.

Falling Awake | @specsofwings

Rating: General Word Count: 2530 Main Tags/Warnings: Love confessions, Cas and Dean being idiots, The Cosmic Entity Summary: After Michael is killed by Team Free Will 2.0, Dean ends up in the Empty, Michael's grace pulling a sliver of his consciousness there. The Cosmic Entity calls him out on not realising Castiel is in love with him. Dean needs to decide what to do with that information as he wakes up home.

Personal Space | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2859 Main Tags/Warnings: NSFW, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot. Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Voyeur Castiel Summary: It’s been four weeks since the last time Dean actually had time for himself and he just wants to crawl into his bed and finally jack off. Sadly he says a certain name and Castiel shows up and not to interrupt.

That Game We Played | @misha-moose-dean-burger-lover

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3139 Main Tags/Warnings: Valentine's Day, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Men of Letters Bunker, Broken Thermostat, Castiel is Not Oblivious, Naked Cuddling Summary: “You know what?” Dean mutters, mostly to himself. He really is trying to be less of a jerk - but he can’t seem to help it. It’s Valentine’s day, and it’s hot. So he decides to stop talking, and takes off his jacket, a deep blue leather utility, and shucks it away on a counter. Cas seems to find this interesting, his eyes following Dean around the room; so then Dean does the first thing that comes to mind. He walks over to Cas, and holds his hand out. Cas stares at it, like he’s trying to figure out the purpose of its existence. Dean helps him, because he’s awesome like that. “Your coat.” Because why the fuck not?

Get out of my head | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3216 Main Tags/Warnings: Cursed, Mind Reading, dean and cas get cursed, mind reading Summary: When a witch puts some sort of spell on Dean and Castiel, they start to hear each other’s thoughts. Dean tries very hard to keep a secret, but Castiel has to insist.

May I ask for this dance | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3225 Main Tags/Warnings: Dean needs Cas' help on a case, Masquerade Ball, dancing on his feet Summary: When Dean asks Castiel to accompany him at an undercover investigation at a masquerade ball, to find the witch who killed a lot of people, Castiel wants it to be a date. Only problem, he can’t dance, so he asks Sam for help.

You aren't a monster | @notfunnydean

Rating: General Word Count: 3782 Main Tags/Warnings: misunderstandings Summary: When Bobby and Sam start to believe Castiel is actually on the bad side, Dean tries to defend his angel. He wouldn’t let them kill his best friend but unfortunately Castiel hears the wrong snippet of the conversation and ends up hurting Dean badly.

And I swear | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4413 Main Tags/Warnings: two idiots in love, Jealous!Cas, Arthur is not in the fic but mentioned a lot, Abusive Relationships, hurt!Dean, Break Up Summary: Dean knows that Arthur is treating him badly, but he had worse in his life and besides, it’s not like the person he really loves wants him back.

your eyes will lead me straight back home | @elizaeverafter

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 4602 Main Tags/Warnings: no archive warnings apply, fake/pretend relationship, mutual pining, fluff, light angst, romantic comedy, friends to lovers, au modern setting, jealousy, castiel POV Summary: When Dean hatches a plan to go to Charlie's wedding with Castiel to avoid being bothered about remaining single, Castiel knows this isn't going to go well. But he hasn't been able to refuse Dean so far, so why would this act of being in a relationship be any different? And if Castiel feels like exploding and blurting out his feelings the whole time, well, that's his problem.

The War Within You | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Mature Word Count: 9770 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, season 6 canon divergent, first kiss, mutual pining, slow burn, love confession, eventual Human!Cas, angst with a happy ending. Summary: Sam Is back from the cage but something is wrong with him, and Dean knows it. He must call Castiel for help... But not just for that... There's something forbidden burning inside him that makes his mind go crazy. He needs to be near the angel.

The Meaning of Everything | @verobatto-angelxhunter

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 17000 Main Tags/Warnings: Destiel, canonverse, post s14 canon divergent, mutual pining, first kiss, love confession, explicit sexual content, canon typical violence, angst with a happy ending, vessel sharing, winged Cas Summary: Chuck is the bad guy, and he broke with his snap Heaven, Hell and Purgatory. The chaos is all over the Earth. But Billie has a plan, they need to work together to raise Jack as the New God. Dean and Cas will try to solve their issues, but something unexpected will happen that will separate them again.

The Alpha Next Door (WIP) | @Destielshipper4Cas

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16767 Main Tags/Warnings: Strangers to Lovers, First Time, Omega Castiel, Alpha Dean, Past Abuse Summary: When Cas is placed in WitSec, he gets a fake secondary gender designation to go along with his new name, ‘Jimmy.’ All he has to do until the boss of the omega trafficking ring he escaped is behind bars is keep a low profile, always apply his alpha scent, and not fall in love with an alpha. Well—two out of three ain’t too bad… Dean has never had a crush on an alpha before. Along comes his new neighbor, Jimmy, an alpha who is alphasexual. There’s just something about him, and to his utter confusion, he finds himself falling for an alpha for the first time in his life.

Guardian Angel | @notfunnydean

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 19486 Main Tags/Warnings: Homeless Dean Winchester, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Virgin!Dean, Abusive John Winchester, Canon-Typical Violence Summary: Everybody in the world has his own guardian angel, to keep them safe and protect them. Only "bad people" are without a guardian angel. Maybe that's why Dean is alone.

Little Blue Dragon | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 23820 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Magic, Blacksmith Dean Winchester, Mage Sam Winchester, Creature Castiel, Dragon Castiel, Pining, Soulmates, Minor Violence, Frottage Summary: Dean Winchester may have a reputation for being a skilled craftsman and blacksmith, but his life is just like anyone else’s. He’s over-worked and under-slept, and it’s all because of the niggling feeling in the back of his mind that tells him he’s… forgetting something. Still, he can’t let his weird dreams or errant thoughts get in the way of his work and his love for his craft. The strange feeling goes ignored. That is, until he meets a man with jewel-blue eyes and an aura of intrigue. Castiel slots into his life in a way that Dean had never thought possible, and Dean grows accustomed to the mysterious man’s visits and brilliant smiles and tales of far-away places. He’d never known he was missing a piece of himself until he met Castiel, and he thinks that Cas might feel the same way. Until Castiel disappears from Dean’s life completely.

Dislocation | @pray4jensen

Rating: Mature Word Count: 24514 Main Tags/Warnings: Mutual Pining, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: After the sun is restored and the Woman of Letters banishes Castiel, he falls and becomes human, lost and alone in a place far from home. Four hundred and fifty-one days later, Sam finds him. He tells Castiel that Dean is alive. So they go. They go and they arrive at the bunker and Sam’s acting strange and there’s something that he’s not telling Castiel, something about Dean. And then Castiel finally reunites with Dean. And there is something about Dean. Something about Dean that has Dean pulling Castiel into tight embraces, something about Dean that has Dean running his thumb across Castiel’s cheek with a tender look in his eyes, and something about Dean that has Dean shaking when Castiel says certain things to him, things that are normal, things that should not affect him this way. There is something about Dean that no one is telling him.

Sending A Raven | @saltnhalo

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 38677 Main Tags/Warnings: Vikings, Magic, Temporary Character Death, Established Relationship, Leader Dean Winchester, Explicit Sexual Content, Violence, Dean/Cas Pinefest 2019, Viking Dean Winchester, Viking Castiel, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), BAMF Dean Winchester, Mutual Pining, Angst Summary: When Dean, the Viking jarl of Týrvik, leaves on a raid to combat the enemy warriors attacking their ships, his husband Castiel is left to protect and lead the village. The ships return barely a week later, with damaged timbers and a devastated, leader-less crew, and suddenly Castiel finds himself not only in a position of leadership for which he is ill-equipped, but terrified for the safety of his captured husband. With the possibility of a spy somewhere in the village’s midst, Castiel leaves his people under Sam’s care and departs on the journey north to where they think Dean is being held, in a desperate attempt to rescue him before it’s too late.

Twenty Years | @ioasccel

Rating: Mature Word Count: 39501 Main Tags/Warnings: Angst, pining, religious themes, Summary: A profound bond between a Priest and the one he loves the most that spans decades. Father Novak’s love of God is tested by one Dean Winchester. A story of a priest driven by love and tortured by desire. All about forbidden love, heart break, and an eventually a happily ever after.

It's A Long Life to Always Be Longing | @pomegranatedaffodil

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 40685 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergence, Spells and Enchantments, Road Trips, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Dean’s life has always been dictated by duty rather than by need. So when Amara offers to give him the thing he needs most, he doesn’t know what to expect, but it certainly isn’t this: a chance to rest, some time away from his life and his burdens. Now he’s trapped in an enchanted sleep, unable to bring himself back to the waking world. It’s up to Sam and Castiel to gather the components of a spell that will bring Dean back to them. Through road trips, honest conversations, and a lot of patience, they’ll make sure Dean comes home. And when he does, maybe he and Castiel will finally have a chance to act on long-buried feelings brought to the surface by their enforced separation. Canon-divergent from the end of 11.23.

The Handyman's Special | @carrieosity

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 51456 Main Tags/Warnings: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Mutual Pining, Humor and Fluff, Human AU, Low-angst, Top!Castiel/Bottom!Dean Summary: Dr. Dean Winchester, professor of Mechanical Engineering, was full of confidence in his own abilities when he decided to purchase a fixer-upper house to rehab and remodel on his own. Now, standing in the middle of his new house and praying the floors won’t cave in, he’s realizing that determination and academic brilliance might only take him so far this time. The bigger problem: his overconfidence in the face of other people’s doubts (ahem, Sam) means that asking for help now will mean swallowing a whole lot of pride…and he’d rather not. Hiring a secret contractor to do the work without telling anyone seems like the perfect solution. Accidentally hiring an amazingly hot secret contractor wasn’t part of the plan. And when Sam overhears a conversation and starts connecting dots, a snap decision and another lie on top the first leads to a ridiculous balancing act of fake stories, pretend relationships, and one hell of a renovation tale.

Escaping Neverland | @emblue-sparks

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 84004 Main Tags/Warnings: Major Warning: Underage(only first 30k, no underage sex), Mental health issues, Identity issues, failed family placements, Mention of past traumas Tags: Adventure Romance AU with canon elements Storybook I-1995 Storybook II- 2015 Heavily inspired by Peter Pan,Completely Destiel despite first pairing, read to learn how, NO MCD(Sam Dean Cas)Canon character deaths, TAGS FOR 1995: Practices & rituals of Sumerian/Greek/Judeo Christian faiths, Dean/Jimmy slow burn, heart failure, kidney/pancreatic failure, dialysis, Found Family, John's the dad his kids deserve, LGBTQ positive parents, First kiss disaster, First DateHoliday, our island/our rules, sad boys, memorial rituals, Heart Transplant, Mourning Rituals TAGS FOR 2015: Everyone supports therapy, Incorrect demon summoning, Latin, Scottish Gaelic, Enochian, Professor/Rookie Hunter!Sam, Nurse!Dean, Orchard Owner/Beekeeper!Cas,Tattooed Dean, burger date, Frottage, Shower Deansturbation,Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Cum kink, Biting kink, Switch boys, Heavy surgical scarring, Dean knows ASL, Strange Dreams, Collective nightmares, Canon adjacent realms: Hoya Baciu Forest Romania, Caria Turkey, Chaos, Mythical Greek creatures, Temporarily fanged Benny, Some villainous ferrymen, Some badass ferrymen, Overly confident dick in a boat, Destiel Ever After, Happy Ending GUARANTEED, Dean/Cas Big Bang Challenge 2019 Summary: Lawrence 1995- Sixteen year old Dean Winchester finds himself in St. Luke's Children's Hospital after an electrocution severely damages his heart. On unit Neverland he meets Jimmy, a smartass with multiple organ failure and an expiration date. They discover an immediate spark which becomes an enduring flame. But Dean struggles accepting Jimmy's fate as well as his own, if a heart cannot be found in time. As his efforts to evade the ultimate marauder are weakening, he begins drawing strength from the misfit teens of Neverland East, learning the power of found family. Lebanon 2015- Dean finally joins Sam, Jo, and Charlie in the bunker. But unexpectedly meeting Castiel, who shares an unsettling likeness to Jimmy and an equally traumatic childhood, threatens to destroy two decades of hard work moving beyond the devastating events which occurred at St. Luke's. They'd be perfect for each other, if both weren’t so damn broken. As their involvement deepens, rookie hunter Sam works a case of rising juvenile deaths, revealing a shocking connection to the surviving Neverlanders. One that's been calling them all along to perilous adventure.

After All These Years | @peanutbutterjelly-pie

Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 99909 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe, Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Single Parent Dean, Reunion, Slow Burn Summary: In which Dean finds himself at a wedding as Jo's fake boyfriend against his will, groaning and complaining the whole time, but still trying to appear all handsome and perfect and utterly in love since he's an awesome friend like that (and since Jo would make his life a living hell otherwise). And just when he begins to think that it won't be so bad to eat tons of free food and let his daughter Emma enjoy the festivity his gaze suddenly meets the two bluest eyes in existence and the world stops to move for a moment. Because of course the groom's brother turns out to be his old high school crush Castiel – the only person Dean was never able to forget – and things start to become really complicated all of a sudden.

[xrikix]

» Hiraeth Chapter 14 || Haikyuu AU

❝They will learn how to fly.❞ – an AU where the kids of Haikyuu characters grow their passion for volleyball and face their problems.

Starring our OC’s Hoshi, Minami, and Leo! (don’t worry they’re as fluffy as our babies from Haikyuu but sprinkle in more angst)

Read Chapter 13 Here!

Unravel

The view of Leo’s home loomed into view, the sun’s warm glow filtered out from behind the trees. His body was curled up into a ball as much as the seat belt would allow him to. Was he comfortable— well, not really— but, all he needed to do was disappear from the world. 

Leo felt the low rumbling of the engine as it turned off, waking him from his slumber. Turning to look out the window, he realized they were home. Unbuckling the seatbelt, Leo tumbled out of the car seat and dazely walked towards the front door. 

His mind clouded with broken promises, and the radiant world he once knew seemed to turn black and white. With a downcasted gaze, Leo trudged along the concrete towards the door. 

He didn’t feel like himself. 

He didn’t feel like anything at all. 

It felt like watching an empty husk mindlessly go about life, wandering the world, being followed by the darkest of storms. Leo felt soulless.

Pushing the keys into the lock, Leo pulled the door open. The lights flickered on, and his eyes slowly adjusted to the brightness. 

In the midst of the flickering lights, his mind suddenly flashed back to his game. The gym lights shined overhead and the screams emanated in his ears. 

Leo jumped at Kageyama’s voice, “you forgot your bag—” 

He snapped out of his trance and growled at Kageyama, pushing past him to walk towards the stairs. It wasn’t in him to feel fear anymore. His feet quickly hurried up the stairs, thumping through the silent house. 

“Leo.” His body wanted to stop and turn around, but he forced it to continue. 

“Leo,” Kageyama’s voice raised louder. Leo flinched but kept going. 

“Leo, stop.” The commanding tone that laced his father’s words brought a pause to Leo’s movements, as he gripped the railing. Leo turned around to face Kageyama’s calm demeanor still at the front door, his bags still in his hands. “Dinner will be ready soon.” 

“Oh… okay,” Leo mumbled, shock evident on his face as he realized Kageyama wasn’t reprimanding him. His feet numbly continued onwards, and Leo couldn’t help but feel even more defeated.

The night sky glistened overhead by the time dinner was ready. The atmosphere surrounding the table felt dim. Shrinking his body closer into his chair, Leo poked at his food, swishing it around the plate. 

Without Hinata and Minami who could make the sun cower in fear, dinner felt deadly silent. Sometimes, he wished for a peaceful dinner with his family, but now he desperately wanted something— anything to happen. 

Storm clouds rolled in his head, and he couldn't help but sigh. 

Kageyama’s gaze turned soft as he looked at Leo’s despair. “Let’s talk Leo,” his voice turned soft. 

Leo raised his head, staring into his father’s concerned eyes. 

He couldn’t take it. Leo immediately turned his head back towards his food.

Kageyama pushed on, “you’re worrying us.” 

Leo grimaced, “but—” 

“Let me speak first.” 

Leo’s mouth sealed tight, the words that he wanted to say fell silent. 

“That outburst you had today in the gym isn’t you. I would expect that from Minami, but you… that was a surprise. Hinata and I have both felt something change in you since high school began. So let’s talk about it.” 

Leo looked at his plate, food still untouched, finding it more interesting to swirl his rice around. He really did regret his actions from before, but his mouth couldn’t form any more words. 

He was unsure what path was even his to take. He felt miles away from his family, silently drowning in the most desolate seas. 

Jealousy is a bitch, Leo thought. He was back to square one, depressed and absolutely astray. “I don’t even know…” Leo’s voice was soft compared to his raging thoughts. The words threatened to spill out despite everything he wanted to hold back. He could feel his voice shaking and he hated it. 

Leo could feel Kageyama patiently waiting, his eyes never wavering away from Leo’s. 

“I feel like I’m… falling behind. Everyone is just better than me. I really don’t know how to say it…” 

Kageyama nodded, “you should start eating, your food is going to get cold.” 

Gently raising his chopsticks to his lips, Leo planned out the next few words he needed to say so that his parents would be convinced that he was okay. Was he okay? Leo didn’t even know. “I’m sorry for what I did back at the gym, I really am. I was mad that we didn’t win, and I lashed out at everyone. I’m also sorry for pushing and ignoring you earlier.” 

Kageyama gazed at Leo, slowly nodding his head, “it’s okay.” 

Leo sighed, “I’m still trying to figure everything out. I know I should be doing better. I’ll sort out these feelings myself…” 

Kageyama shook his head, “it’s okay to feel like you’re behind. With hard work and practice, you’ll get there. Honestly, I think you’re ahead of everyone else.” Leo couldn't help but drown out his father’s words. “And about sorting out everything by yourself, you should talk to us. I know we seem like the best volleyball players out there, but we know how it feels.” Kageyama gave him a small smile, “so talk to us alright?” 

Leo nonchalantly nodded. 

“Promise me,” Kageyama’s voice became more affirmative. 

“Yeah, I promise…” Leo answered, already knowing the lies that will plagued his words. 

The rest of dinner continued smoothly. Although it was quiet, it was peaceful, the words that needed to be said were laid out and exposed. Leo excused himself from the table, ready to jump into the comfort of his bed and sleep. He wished he could shut off his mind forever. 

Nestling into bed, his blankets wrapped him up into a cocoon, Leo forced his mind to rest, but it wouldn’t stop racing through a million thoughts. His body felt restless. The flashes of the game played repeatedly over in his mind. The thrill, the exhilaration, the adrenaline mixed with the lights and screams, it felt like he was being transported back into those moments. It tormented him, hearing the celebrating cheers of the Tokonami High, the hatred that rolled off of him and Minami. All the eyes that continued to watch his every move, determining whether he was worthy enough to stay on the court haunted him. 

Too agitated to sleep, he walked down the stairs with a volleyball in his hands, wanting to feel the crisp air outside. The living room light was on as he walked past Kageyama watching the TV. 

“I’ll be out in the yard,” Leo said, putting on his shoes. 

“Okay, don’t be out too late.” 

“Yeah…” he responded, opening the door. 

Fingers tingling, eager to touch the ball no matter what, he stepped out into the darkness. The front lights were on, chasing away the dark shadows. The grass crinkled beneath his feet as the crisp breeze kissed his face. The stars twinkled overhead, the moon’s light saying hello. His hands felt the comfortable embrace of the ball as he continued to set the ball over his head. 

Arms raised, fingers pushed against the ball higher and higher into the air. It felt calm outside, just him and the ball, the normal, repetitive feeling of an old friend. Occasionally, his eyes would glance towards Hoshi’s home, the house silent signaling the empty place. 

As if reading his mind, he heard the ding of a message. Leo walked towards his phone, letting the ball roll away into the dark. 

Hoshi: hey, u good? 

Leo sighed, the bright screen illuminating his face. He wasn’t in the mood to talk to Hoshi, but he felt obligated to respond to his message. 

Leo: yeah 

Hoshi: I saw Mianmi and went over to tell her congrats for winning, but she looked pissed

He didn’t know how to respond to that, his fingers lingering over the keyboard.

Hoshi: she told me what happened so I wanted to check in with you

Hoshi: is everything okay?

Leo groaned, tilting his head back, hands clutching his phone. He came outside to not think about what was going on, but of course life had to pull this stunt on him. Hoshi was probably waiting for a response, leaving Leo to suffer while thinking about the perfectly constructed response.

Leo: everything’s fine, I guess losing just made me feel tired  

Hoshi: well if you’re so sure…

Leo sighed, he needed to end this conversation quickly.

Hoshi: Your dad told me how well you played so

Hoshi: I know it sucks losing, but good job! Your time on the court helped your team out a lot! 

Leo was stunned, a sudden rush of fury pushed its way to the surface. He wanted to chuck his phone far away, unsure why the last message made his blood boil. He felt so close to diving off the edge, into the chasm of the storm clouds that awaited him in his mind. The words people said that were meant to help were all thrown out. 

Sometimes the light shone through but now Leo wanted to ignore it all, and embrace the darkness. Embrace the waves that continually dragged him under into the freezing water, the monster that lurked in his world waiting to pounce any moment. 

Leo shoved his face into his hands, messing his hair up in the process. He felt trapped inside a never ending maze. Sometimes he thought he found the exit, but most of the time he would find dead ends. It infuriated him. 

He wanted things to go back to normal, when his sister wasn’t furious at him, when his parents didn't have to worry about him, and most importantly, when he knew his own self worth. 

He wanted to be on the court, but everything seemed to want to hold him back. 

It all blew out of him, his fears, his anger, and his jealousy. 

With his head tucked deep within his arms, Leo couldn’t stop the onslaught of tears. His body shuddered, and the pain erupted out with his tears. 

Anxiety clenched tightly onto him, relishing their deep embrace. 

The stars seemed to lose their brightness one by one with each cry that left his lips. 

The world seemed duller than black and white. Even grey couldn’t match the color of Leo’s heart as the world around him crumbled to dust.

The forgotten volleyball loomed out in the darkness, watching the beginning of an unravelment, seeing the shadows wrap around the boy who lost his colors.

[jatamansi-arc]

So, if you think I have deep thoughts about Supernatural and all the biblical contexts within in, let me introduce you to my best friend, who literally is like Rabbi Audrey and will school everyone about her feelings. Including me.

Minor spoilers for the episode tonight, but it’s only in a biblical sense of talking about the Big Empty/the Empty Itself:

Felicia: what do you think the empty was supposed to represent like biblically i'm just curious

Audrey: tohu va vohu formless and void

Felicia: yeah, i was wondering that, but then i also felt like chuck/amara fit that but now i'm like hahaha demiurge and sister

Audrey: amara is the darkness on the face of the deep

Felicia: i was thinking tzimtzum but i felt like that was too vague/broad

Audrey: i think its just tohu va bohu tbh since it literally says its the nothingness before creation

Felicia: true i want to know more about this crotchy, sleep deprived empty tho

Audrey:  also that is how sheol is described in the hebrew bible, the land of shades etc, where you sleep with your ancestors forever shades arent ghosts mind you they are somethihg else

Felicia: i know this, i write a jewish mortician who communicates with the dead jewishly lol

Audrey: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tohu_wa-bohu

Felicia: did u just wikipedia me u fucking little shit

Audrey: its supposed to conjure a void desert of nothingness yes i mean its pretty straight forward

Felicia: i would like a dessert of nothingness right about now but i'll settle for a desert

Audrey: i coulda link you strongs and mechon memre hebrew instead

Felicia: i am more offended you think i'm on basic level gurl

Audrey: i dont i just want something not in hebrew to link lol

Felicia: okay, fair

Audrey: basically idk if it goes into this cause i disnt read it yet but like its a description of nothingness that isnt negative its a play on words if that makes sense like in english we have to describe nothing as without things

Felicia: english is so weirdly tedious

Audrey:  yeah amara is like https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tehom the darkness on the deep, tehom actually tehom was often depicted as a female chaos diety of sorta in ancient near eastern myths pre bible ie, tiamat and chuck is just god, the ruah ha elohim, the wind on the face of the deep it makes sense that they would differentiate the empty from the darkness actually, since the bible does as well most people just dont notice it pretty impressive for spn negl

Felicia: god, i love when you talk biblical

Audrey: also its interesting that they say all dead demons and angels go there since that is also biblical af, the idea that sheol is the final resting place of everyone good and bad http://www.mechon-mamre.org/p/pt/pt1232.htm

Felicia: yihhhhh one of my favorite things i appreciate this link

Audrey: http://www.mechon-mamre.org/p/pt/pt1231.htm technically starts here at like vs 15

Felicia: also i kind of love that, if angels and demons both go to the same place, and that includes archangels castiel has more willpower than say, even gabriel though i want gabe to come back gdi danke

Audrey: >18 To whom art thou thus like in glory and in greatness among the trees of Eden? yet shall thou be brought down with the trees of Eden unto the nether parts of the earth; thou shalt lie in the midst of the uncircumcised, with them that are slain by the sword. This is Pharaoh and all his multitude, saith the Lord GOD.' basically this is some horrifying image of literally just everyone dead in their graves the good the bad, on both sides asleep forever tfw literally studied this is school .;3 religious studies best studies

Felicia: i know dis i want to do religious studies more when i go back

Audrey: this is also relevant http://www.mechon-mamre.org/p/pt/pt2703.htm so to translate this in easy english basically job is like, i wish i was never even born tbh i wanna be like a stillborn baby and never even be awake i wanna be in nothingness with all the great men who died in the past everything there is free and at peace, nobody has regrets etc (aka the shit the empty was saying to cas) and if everything in life is crap then death and nothing is the best option and even god fucked me

Felicia: basically: god was a little late on inventing the prozac for job

Audrey: 25 For the thing which I did fear is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of hath overtaken me. 26 I was not at ease, neither was I quiet, neither had I rest; but trouble came.

Felicia: DON'T YOU EVEN DARE 

Audrey: tldr castiel is job

Felicia: even though it's true DON'T SHAME MY SON IN THIS WAY you come into my house and call my son that melodramatic man

Audrey: he is literally job i mean he does nothing wrong but god fucks him just because yolo he cant catch a damn break he cant even die

Felicia: i know but like fuck this i just want my son to be happy castiel: angel of death but cannot even die properly does this not figure

Audrey: in the end job is happy but its the kind of happy you find at the bottom of everything, to quote bright eyes

Felicia: i hate you

Audrey: https://youtu.be/2GHyLhbdzN0 truth tho https://www.azlyrics.com/lyrics/brighteyes/atthebottomofeverything.html literally one of the most philosophically legit songs ever written, not even sorry

Felicia: i didn't sign up to have these feels right now

Audrey: 

[quicksilverconnoisseur]

Didn't you once mention beautiful Will teasing the confused fratboys at school? (✿´‿`) prompt ask

Oooh, such a good ask, anon!!! When I wrote that, I was thinking how, after Will had grown his hair out and started adopting more feminine clothing, he probably would be mistaken for a girl a lot, especially from behind. And then he would need to develop a kind of aggressive flirtation as a defence mechanism against homo/transphobic fuckboy grossness. Because, let’s face it, they’re going to find him extremely confusing because he’s so damn pretty.

Buuuuut… this ask got me thinking a little deeper. What if, in the midst of all that faux-testosterone yuckiness, there were one or two guys who found that they really did like the idea of getting closer to our genderfluid hero/ine?

I wasn't going to write anything for this and just shoot headcanons at you. And then this happened... (here be porn)

*

Riding in cars with boys

Warning for transphobic language & threats of violence

“Those guys are waiting for me again,” Will said. “I’ve got to go.”

On the other end of the phone, Bev made a strangled noise pitched somewhere between indignation and concern.

“I’ll be fine,” Will said. “Really. I’ll call you later.”

There were two of them, shadowy figures loitering under the tree close to his front door. They weren’t trying to hide, of course. Men like them never seemed to think they should, even when they were doing something to be ashamed of.

Without slowing his stride, Will put his phone away. As he drew closer, one of the figures stepped out into a patch of grass illuminated by a lamp overhead. Will didn’t recognise him but they all tended to look the same - broad shoulders, square head, team sweatshirt.

Will raised an eyebrow at him. “Can't stay away, can you? You must like what you see.”

The other figure joined the first, and said something Will didn’t catch. He was a bit shorter - the tall square one had to duck his head to listen. Then the second guy slapped him on the back, shoving him forward a little.

Now he was only a few feet away, Will realised he had seen him before. Hanging around the campus in the company of a particularly infantile group of frat boys Will would be happy to never see again. He slipped his bag off his shoulder, ready to drop it if he had to. What women were told about holding keys was not the best advice - you needed both hands free to fight properly.

“Either get out of my way or I'll make you get out of my way,” Will said. “You've seen me do it before.”

“Um,” the guy said. “Sorry, look, are you, um-”

“Am I, what?” Will answered. “Am I a girl or a boy? Am I a freak of nature or a disgusting pervert? Or do you just want to know what I keep in my pants?”

At least the guy had the grace to look abashed. “Yeah, see, don't listen to Chuck, he's an idiot. Everyone thinks so.”

“No one more than me,” Will said. “Can I go now? I've got things to do.”

“Wait- um, don't go, not yet. I've got something I want to ask you.”

“Fuck’s sake, what is it?” Will said. “I’m losing patience, and I swear you won't like it when I do.”

“I just- I think.” The guy drew himself up to his full height, like he was preparing to take a gut-punch. “I think you're kinda cute.”

For a moment, Will was stunned into silence. Then suspicion rushed in to fill the gap, until it was an angry buzz in his ears. “If this is something Chuck has put you up to, you'd better get out of here right now, or-”

The guy rushed forward to interrupt. “No, no, I promise! On my mother's grave.”

Will’s unspent words dissolved into empty useless breath. He sighed, and looked at the guy in front of him, really looked. He saw traces of a young teenager, one who’d grown too tall too quickly, and a silent stoic father. All he’d wanted to do was make her proud, so he’d done what his father had said. A football scholarship would lead to a bright future, a good job. Now he was struggling with the realisation that his father’s idea of a bright future didn’t match his own. And the knowledge that his mother’s opinions on the matter rotted away under the ground, along with everything else which had once been her.

“Okay,” Will said, feeling much more uncomfortable than when he thought he was going to end the night with split knuckles. “So… what, are you asking me out?”

“Yeah,” the guy said. “Not very well, sorry. Um, want to go grab a drink or something?” He gestured away from Will’s front door, in the direction of the cafes and bars which made up college nightlife.

Will shook his head and the guy's face fell, almost comically so.

“I mean, I've had a long day - lots of people,” Will explained. “Look, why don't you come in for a bit. We can talk.”

He found his keys in his bag and made for the door. Whatever this guy was, he was no threat.

The guy jogged the few steps over to Will, looking as eager and awkward as a puppy. “Uh, yeah, sure.” He nodded at his friend, who turned and disappeared into the night.

“Who was that?” Will asked, as the door clicked open.

“Not Chuck,” the guy said. “Just moral support. Don't worry.”

“I do worry.” Will dumped his bag and coat in the hall. “I have to.”

“Yeah, about that,” the guy said, his eyes trying to catch Will’s. “Sorry for freaking you out. I didn’t think.”

“No,” said Will, rather absently, looking round the room and wondering what he should do now. He hadn’t really thought much further than asking the guy inside. “I don't know your name. I guess you already know mine.”

“It’s Will, right? I'm Kyle.”

Will smiled. He couldn’t help it. Kyle with the square head and the football scholarship. “Take a seat, Kyle. I feel like I should offer you a beer but I haven’t got any. Hold on.”

He ducked into his bedroom and came back out with the battered tin bait box he kept his weed in. Kyle was on the couch, flicking not-very-casually through a magazine Bev had left behind. Will sat beside him, and found he rather enjoyed the way Kyle’s eyes jumped immediately to his bare knees and then a little higher.

“I’ve got this,” Will said. “Want to share? I think after tonight’s misunderstanding we could both do to unwind a little.” 

Kyle grinned. “Much better than beer.”

“Well, I think so,” Will said, grinning back. It was surprisingly easy to do. Kyle was making no attempt at all to hide his attraction or his obvious hopes about the direction his evening had taken. His face was open, with clear brown eyes. His teeth were very white and he had a mole above one eyebrow. Maybe he wasn’t quite as square and bland as Will had first thought him, just extremely clean-cut and healthy-looking.

He rolled a joint while Kyle watched, unable to shake the impression that, at any moment, Kyle might sneak an arm round the back of the couch and across his shoulders. Riding in cars with boys, Will thought, a little hysterically. Suddenly, he could imagine an alternate reality, one based on dumb movie tropes, where he’d spent high school dating the star quarterback and wore his jacket to all the big games. Milkshakes and french fries and used condoms in the backseat. 

“You live here on your own?” Kyle said, reminding Will not to get lost in his imagination, especially when he had company.

“Yeah, I’m a special case. They didn’t know what to do with me.” At Kyle’s blank look, Will continued. “I left high school a year early. I couldn’t go in dorm with everyone else and I didn’t want to share, so they put me up here on my own. I had student liaison come check on me every so often, to make sure I was settling in and not doing anything I could sue them for later.”

Kyle looked even blanker.

“It was a duty of care thing,” Will said. “Because I was a minor.”

There was an awkward pause, where Kyle’s brows drew alarmingly close together and his entire body tensed ready for flight.

“I’m eighteen now,” Will said, with a laugh. “It’s your turn to not worry.”

“Right,” Kyle said, looking relieved. “I gotcha.”

Will smiled and ducked his head to light the joint. When he blew out his first glorious lungful, Kyle stared at Will’s mouth and unconsciously wet his lips. Will blinked once, slowly, and after felt like an idiot for doing something dangerously close to batting his eyelashes. He handed the joint over, settled deeper into the couch, and tried not to think about it.

They passed it to and fro in silence for while until, apparently out of nowhere, Kyle asked, “Are you gay?”

Here it was; the place Kyle had been heading to, ever since he’d decided to wait for Will under the tree.

Will took a deep drag and wondered if he should bother trying to explain the intersectionality of gender identity and sexual orientation. “I like girls, boys, and everything in between,” was the answer he settled on.

Kyle took the joint back and watched it smoulder for a few moments. “Everything in between,” he said. “So, that’s you, right?”

“Right,” Will agreed. He was suddenly aware of how small the couch was. There was only a couple of inches of space between Kyle’s jeans and his own thigh.

“You know, you’re really pretty,” Kyle said. “Like really, really pretty.”

Will didn’t know what to say to that, so he said nothing at all. His fingers grazed Kyle’s when he took the joint again. Thankfully, there was a pleasant fuzziness creeping in around the edges of his mind, like a soft comfortable blanket. It made the situation a lot easier to deal with.

“I think I’m probably gay, but I’ve only been with girls before.” There was more than a hint of desperation in the way Kyle glanced at him, which spoke of a small town and its crushing, pigeonholing ways. “It’s not like I don’t want to - you know - with guys, it’s just, how do you even know when a guy is interested? How am I supposed to tell when it’s okay to ask one out?”

“You could go to a club,” Will said. “Or one of the LGBT events on campus.”

Kyle’s mouth dropped open, and he shook his head in a dazed kind of way. Obviously this would be a step too far.

“So you thought hanging around my door was less scary?” Will’s face darkened when a different idea occurred to him. “Or that I was an easier prospect?”

“No, no, that wasn’t it. I thought, you know, think-” He took a deep breath. “I told you - you’re really pretty. Gorgeous. I just wanted to-”

Will leaned in a little closer. His mind was stilling, finally. Thoughts hung like motes of dust suspended in syrupy summer air. Kyle’s warmth was seeping into the couch, palpable in the air around him. Will could almost feel it on his skin. And Kyle’s thighs were solid and muscular; Will wanted to straddle his lap and shut him up. He’d had enough talk for one day.

He was probably staring, Will realised, a bit too late. But Kyle was staring back at him. Good.

Kyle opened his mouth and hushed, halting words came out. “A couple of weeks ago, I saw you, at the library. You were wearing this short grey dress and you must’ve had on thigh highs or something, because when you picked your bag up there was little flash of skin and I swear it was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” His eyes found Will’s and slid down to fix on his mouth. “I got so hard, it was incredible. And later- god.”

Will gave him a slow smile and moved in close enough to kiss. But he held back, just out of reach. “What happened later? Tell me, go on.”

Kyle was transfixed, eyes wide. He was even blushing a little. But it seemed he couldn't stop talking now he’d started. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about what I’d find if I pushed your skirt up. Thinking that you might let me touch you, let me-”

The joint was practically finished, a stub of twisted paper. He plucked it from Kyle's fingers and sucked out the last pull. Then he brushed his lips over Kyle’s, letting curling tendrils of smoke escape between them. Kyle breathed it in deeply, and calmed himself a little.

“Let you what?” Will asked. “What is it you want to do?”

He was halfway across Kyle’s lap; one of Kyle’s hands had found their way to Will’s thigh, toying uncertainly with the hem of his dress.

“God, I want to suck you off,” Kyle said, in a breathless rush. “Make you come like that. I bet it’s as pretty as the rest of you.”

Will took a deep and careful breath in, trying to ignore the blood pounding in his veins, making his dick twitch. Fuck, did that sound good - usually, Will was the one expected to do all the cocksucking.

He put his hands firmly on Kyle’s shoulders and swung a leg over his lap. Instead of settling onto it, which seemed like a very good idea indeed, Will knelt so his hips were level with Kyle’s shoulders.

“So, what you're saying is, you wanna lift up my skirt and suck my dick?”

Kyle nodded, mouth open and eyes glazed, fingers digging into the backs of Will’s thighs.

Will smiled, and stroked Kyle's cheek with his thumb. “Okay then, go ahead.”

Kyle���s hands crept nervously upward, a little way under Will’s skirt. All at once, he pushed​ it up, out of the way.

“Oh god,” he said, faintly. “Shit.”

Will would have described the underwear he had on as unremarkable - plain pale-blue cotton, with a tiny frill of lace edging. But apparently Kyle didn't agree. His fingers slid slowly up to rest over Will's hips, framing the fat rigid bulge of Will's cock underneath with his thumbs, and then stopped.

“It’s okay,” Will said. “Touch, whatever you want.”

Kyle looked nervously up at him for a moment, before brushing his thumb along the length of the distended fabric. A soft whimper escaped him, as if he was the one being felt up. Will covered the back of Kyle's hand with his own, in what he hoped was encouragement. The tension was getting to him, too - excitement banded his chest, making his breath come short.

Squaring his shoulders, Kyle hooked his fingertips into the band of Will's panties and peeled them down. He let out an audible exhalation when Will’s dick sprang free. It was almost kind of cute, Will decided. He smiled down at Kyle, who was blushing and bright-eyed and elated at his own bravery.

“I knew it,” he said, tugging Will's panties further down, to sit below his balls. “So pretty, god. Like that, is that okay?” He encircled the shaft with his fingers, and gave a couple of tentative strokes. 

“Yeah,” Will said. “That's good, just- you don't have to be gentle with me.”

Kyle made a choked, slightly desperate noise, grabbed the base of Will's cock and pressed his lips to the tip. Will gasped and clutched for the back of the couch. He felt hot warmth sweep across his slit - simply Kyle getting used to the taste, presumably, because he then slipped the round O of his mouth over the head and sucked.

With a harsh grunt of surprise, Will tried to stop his hips jerking forward. Kyle pulled free, then dragged the broad flat of his tongue down Will’s length and back up again. He was a quick learner and enthusiastic to boot; sucking Will’s cock deeper into his mouth, hands settling on the globes of Will’s ass. Will groaned, reeling with pleasure already, and a little taken aback at the sight of Kyle below him.

Kyle let Will slip free and gasped​, “God, you’re so hot.” He unbuckled his jeans hurriedly and took his own dick in hand. “Just, fuck, just use my mouth, okay? I can take it, I want you to.”

A shiver of need raced up Will’s spine. Maybe those backseat fantasies his mind earlier supplied him with were even more interesting than they had first appeared. He pictured Kyle, on his knees, head bobbing in Will’s lap. The star quarterback who was also a star cocksucker.

Will held his jaw and pushed the head of his cock across Kyle’s lips, smearing them with pre-come. He smiled. “Yeah? Want me to come in your mouth too?”

Kyle moaned, nodded, and put his tongue out in blatant invitation. Silently, Will congratulated himself for not coming on the spot, and slid smoothly over Kyle’s tongue and into his mouth. He pressed as deep as he thought Kyle could take, watching Kyle’s cheeks hollow, his eyes close in bliss. His hand worked briskly between his own legs and Will took up the same rhythm, fucking his mouth in short rapid strokes.

Will knew there was no way he was going to last - not with the needy sounds Kyle was making deep in his throat, or with how he seemed to like Will’s hands on his jaw and the back of his head. His mouth was perfect, spit-slick tongue and lips, tight sucking heat, vibrating with his groans. And the thought of coming in his mouth, of watching him swallow around his cock- it was all too much.

Gathering his self-control, Will pulled slowly back, greedily watching the drag of Kyle’s lips over his shaft. When he realised what was happening, Kyle tried to hold him in place, the fingers of his free hand dimpling the flesh of Will’s ass.

Will shook his head. “I’m close, you’d better do the work. It’ll be easier for you that way.”

Kyle surged blindly forward, sought the head with his tongue, and engulfed it in his mouth again. He worked it desperately, sucking and lapping, probing gently at the very tip, until Will gripped his head and held him still. His cock pulsed thickly, and Kyle’s eyes flew open as he swallowed what he could. Will's gaze was locked to his while Kyle struggled and lost the battle, a slippery mess of saliva and come spilling from his lips and down his chin. Both of them groaned; Kyle chased it with his tongue, still pumping his dick, while Will shook and trembled over him. Only a few seconds later, he came over his fist, splashing hot and wet against Will’s thigh.

Will's heart hammered, his chest heaved. A laugh burst from him - the final release of adrenaline and joy and relief. Kyle wiped at his sticky mouth and joined in, a warm genuine sound. Will sank into his lap and kissed him properly for the first time. They felt easy and right together, soft lips and slow hot licks into each others’ mouths. Both of them smiled all the way through. Will chased the taste of himself on Kyle's tongue, and wondered how long it would be before they could do that again.

“So,” Kyle said, in between kisses. “Can I take you for that drink another night?”

*

btw after this Will got several weeks’ worth of excellent head and never had any trouble with Chuck ever again :)

Quicksilver au

[vince-thrilligan]

Better Call Saul: Talking to the writer behind Season 3’s ‘Chicanery’

Gordon Smith Breaks Down His Emmy-Nominated Episode of ‘Better Call Saul’ (Link to full article)

For Outstanding Writing for a Drama Series, the Academy singled out “Chicanery,” a midseason highlight scripted by Breaking Bad alum Gordon Smith. “Chicanery” takes place entirely within the context of a bar hearing. Chuck, the upstanding older sibling debilitated by a psychosomatic aversion to electromagnetism, has lured Jimmy, the scam artist quixotically attempting to go legit, into destroying evidence. 

“Chicanery” is a masterful piece of acting by leads Bob Odenkirk (Jimmy) and Michael McKean (Chuck), with direction by Daniel Sackheim that emphasizes the claustrophobia of the courtroom. Underlying it all, however, is Smith’s script, the product of a behind-the-scenes presence who’s been working with the Bad-verse characters in one capacity or another for nearly a decade.

Q: As the room was plotting out the third season, when did you decide that Chuck would have this dramatic breakdown on the stand?

GS: We weren’t sure. We work very slowly, and make sure that we’re laying things down exactly as we feel like they should be. So we didn’t really have a sense of it until maybe the episode beforehand, that that was going to be something we were really going to see. There was a version that we were pitching that maybe we didn’t see it at all, or it was just a quick slap on the wrist and that Jimmy had to deal with it from there. But then, as we were getting into it, we figured there was a juice there that we wanted to squeeze, so we did. I think probably it started to take shape that this would be something we wanted to do in the episode or so beforehand—that it was going to be important to deal with.

Q: Did you know where Chuck’s arc was going, and were you thinking of ways to get him there?

GS: No, we very rarely work in that direction. We have ideas about what the future is, but we tend to go much more, “Where are they right now? Where were they a second ago, and what does that mean for where they should be going in this episode, at this moment?” We did have some ideas about things that could happen with Chuck, but we weren’t 100 percent sure about where we were going until much later, until we were like, “This really feels right, this really feels like this is what we’ve been building toward.” There was a thought that there was some kind of big break with Chuck around, and especially as we were digging into, this episode. But that was the source of the big break that Jimmy has with Chuck. It wasn’t, “We need to get him to that place, so we need to have a big break.” It was, “It feels like this is something that’s been brewing,” that they needed to have as a moment—this argument, essentially, about Chuck’s health and what this relationship between these two brothers really is. And because they’re both lawyers and they take it so seriously, this was the right venue for it.

Q: What was the thinking behind having this showcase, almost bottle episode at the season’s midway point, as opposed to the beginning or end?

GS: Again, it’s one of the weird things about the way that we work. It was less, like, “We’re going to have a trial, so we should place it in the season,” than it was as we were breaking, this was where it fell. We kind of didn’t know where it was going to fall until it did, and then it was here. As we were getting into it, we were like, how long does this take? Is it two episodes? Is this one episode? Where is the dividing line? Then it came together at exactly the midpoint.

Q: I was interested to hear you say you were considering not even showing the hearing, since it turns out to be the entirety of an episode. Was “Chicanery” always going to be relatively stand-alone?

GS: When we started breaking the episode, we had so much to do. We started talking about what it was going to take to do it. But also the idea that a real trial, even a bar hearing—they take days, they take hours. They’re grueling, because they’re very detailed and people’s livelihood is on the line. We wanted to give it its due, and it felt like there was so much that we felt needed to be dealt with that it just seemed impossible to weave it with other things. Otherwise, we’d be doing a trial for the next three weeks or something. There was a sort of gravity to the material that sucked everything in, and I think that was sort of how it cohered around that once-central node. It was like, “All right, we’re in it! We’re doing this now, I guess!” It was something that we also rarely do. We’ve seen very little inside of a courtroom, because it’s just not the show. We also wanted to give it its due, since this is probably the closest to a trial we’re gonna see in this show.

Q: It is funny that it’s a legal show, but there isn’t much high courtroom drama.

GS: We’ve been, maybe not lucky, but we’ve done a lot of talking to our lawyer consultants—my sister especially, my mother before she passed, and other people that we know—and there’s just so many kinds of law, and so many weird, strange procedures that happen outside of the courtroom. Most lawyers don’t spend their time in a court, though that’s predominantly what you see. We kind of like stumbling into strange non-courtroom bits of the law that we find interesting to explore, and being able to put them on the show.

Q: “Chicanery” has to do a lot of heavy lifting, culminating two and a half seasons of brotherly tension while setting up Chuck’s tragic decline while also serving as a tense, self-contained courtroom drama. How did you balance long-term and short-term storytelling in the script?

GS: Usually by the time we get to the script, we’ve hashed out a lot of that stuff in the room. The moment you finish your breaking, often you have to leave the room and go write the script, so everybody else has to have a sense, at least, of what’s going on in your episode so they can talk about it in the next episode. I think the balance of the minutiae and the large-scale stuff, some of that’s in the room, especially the large-scale stuff. And then the short-scale stuff, we get to balance that on the page, and it’s obviously a conversation that continues when we get into production and we are talking to the showrunners. We definitely sweat the small stuff on the show to make sure it all feels like the right prop and the right fish. There were long conversations about exactly the right pet that Jimmy would bring in [to hire the pickpocket] could be.

Q: Your previously nominated episode, Season 1’s “Five-O,” was also a single-character spotlight, on Mike Ehrmantrout. On paper, it almost looks like a specialty of yours.

GS: It’s totally just happenstance. We kind of have a batting order of who’s gonna go, and it goes down the list in terms of seniority, and I’m kind of mid-to-low on the seniority list and I end up with episodes in the middle of the season. [Laughs.] They somehow have worked out to be around this point where we’re drawing together some threads.

Q: Director Daniel Sackheim does some amazing work here, including that final shot with the Exit sign in the foreground. Did you guys consult with each other at all during filming?

GS: Oh, yeah. First of all, I think he is fantastic and he did incredible work on this episode. We were stuck in that room for five days of shooting, four days of shooting—more than half the schedule was just in that one room. It feels different, and it feels fresh, and he’s constantly finding angles so that you don’t feel like you’re just stuck in the same shot. I can’t say enough good things about Dan’s work.

We talk about it. Obviously, there’s a big conversation that kicks off filming, the tone meeting, where we sit for, I think it was eight hours for this episode. Peter Gould, the showrunner, and Dan and some of our producers sit and talk through in detail what Dan’s envisioning, what feels like the right thing for the show, if there’s any information that needs to be shared. We send all of the writers to set to produce their episodes. The directors are always on for much shorter periods of time than the writers are, as in 90 percent of TV. So we send the writers to set so there’s another set of eyes and another person listening who can say, “Maybe that performance we want to adjust, or maybe that line is more important because something is coming up later that I know about and the director might not know about.” Mostly, though, he’s the one setting the shots. The Exit sign shot is scripted, but obviously he’s the one who figured out how to do it. I think it’s a great final moment that we get out of Chuck, that tiny shot of him.

Q: BCS has been renewed for Season 4. Where are the conversations at right now?

GS: We just came back. We started in on Season 4. We’re breaking away, just hacking away at what happens in the wake of everything that ended the season, trying to figure out the best-laid plans we can set out for our characters. We’re fairly early on. We’re sort of in the midst of working on the first episode. [x]

(pleeease! i want a writing emmy for this show!! and one for jonathan banks.)

[jackfollmanwriter-blog]

Mail

You think life is weird and then one day you receive a human tooth in the mail.

The thing came on a Monday just like any other, stuffed into a plain white envelope and fell out of my mailbox when I opened it up after work. There was no note of any kind. No return address. Just my name and address printed upon a sticker in the middle in black ink and a couple of Elvis stamps perched up in the corner of the thing to make sure it would arrive at my address and freak me the fuck out.

Unsure of what else to do, I called the cops. After repeating what exactly had happened five times to three different people who all made me feel like a combination of an idiot and an asshole, they told me to just bring the thing down to the station.

I had never actually been to a police station before and after my first trip, I would describe the lobby that I walked into as feeling like a mix between a dentist’s office and the locker room at a YMCA. The scent of chlorine seemed to dance upon my nose hairs. The officer behind the counter, a guy who was pulling off having short hair on the sides with a long top that flopped over on its side with magnificent precision half-greeted me by barely looking up from his phone.

    “Hi. I called about the tooth,” I stammered.

    “What?”

I nervously put the envelope upon the maple counter between us and the little white tooth skittered out. The officer set down his phone, picked up the tooth and held it up against the fluorescent light that hummed above us as if he was a jeweler looking at a diamond.

    “You weren’t kidding. We thought you might be a prank call.”

    “It just showed up in my mail today. I have no idea why.”

    “Well, I can tell you one thing. It’s not a crime to mail someone a tooth, but it’s definitely something to keep an eye on.”

The officer put the tooth back into the envelope.

   “Yeah, well, it’s pretty alarming,” I said in a tone so torn from a soap opera I should have been cupping a hearty glass of red win.

   “I’ll bet. “This kind of stuff happens more than you think. Maybe it wasn’t even intended for you.”

    “It had my name on the address.”

The officer fully turned his attention away from me now and started fiddling with his phone.

   “You’d be surprised how much weird stuff happens. My uncle was an officer in St. Louis back in the day and worked on the thing where Chuck Berry was videotaping people in the bathroom of his restaurant. Guy is lucky he can duck walk and play the guitar.

The officer slid over a clipboard with some paperwork.

    “File a report. Let us know if it happens again and we are going to hang onto the tooth. See who it belongs to.”

I was shocked the next afternoon at work when I received a phone call.

   “Mr. Rowley, this is Officer Nguyen. We checked into the tooth yesterday after you filed the report and we got some results.”

    “Really, what are they?” I beamed back into the phone with a level of excitement I usually only reserved for sex and sports.

    “Your tooth belongs, or, belonged to, George Harden of Murphy, North Carolina.”

The name drew a complete blank in my brain. I had so many questions I wanted to ask all at once, but Officer Nguyen went on before I could get one out.

    “Did you have any connection to Mr. Harden?”

   “No. I had never even heard that name until you said it.”

   “Because the interesting thing here is… George Harden was declared dead two years ago.”

Silence lingered on the line for a few seconds before Officer Nguyen spoke up again.

    “Now this could mean a lot of things, but again, you have never interacted with George Harden?”

    “I promise you, I have never even heard the name before. I don’t even know what part of the state Murphy is in either,” I explained, wondering if I was starting to sound defensive.

   “That’s okay. Right now there is really nothing we can do with that. We contacted Mr. Harden’s next of kin to let him know about what happened, but we don’t expect much to happen from here, but let us know if you receive anything else.”

I would receive something else.

There it was staring back at me when I checked my mailbox upon arriving home after work – another white envelope.

The sight of the thing changed the world around me. Suddenly everything in the little hallway corridor where my tiny apartment mailbox was housed became suspicious. I did a 360-degree scan of my surroundings before dipping into the box and pulling out the envelope.

   I could immediately tell there was a little bit more bulk to the envelope this time, but everything else was the same – my name on the front on a printed-out sticker and two Elvis stamps.

I opened the thing up in the hallway and hoped no one saw me do it when a severed human ear tumbled out and landed on the dusty floor. By muscles snapped into movement to pick the thing up, stuff it back into the envelope and disappear into the privacy of my apartment.

    “It’s an ear?” Officer Nguyen’s voice seemed on the verge of laughter after I told him what had happened.

   “Yes, a human ear.”

    “Your timing is convenient as I was just about to call you. I think there is something you might not have told me when we first talked that could play a part in this.”

My brain seemed as if it fell out of my head. I had called them about someone mailing ME a FUCKING EAR and Officer’s Nguyen’s tone made it seem as if I was the one on trial here.

    “What, what do you mean?”

    “Have you ever been a public figure, or celebrity, of any kind?”

There it was. He had stumbled upon my deep, dark fucking secret.

    “No,” I jumped to answer the question how I usually would before realizing it would be a good time to start telling the exact truth. “Well not exactly. Kind of, I used to be. When I was a kid, I was the star of a Christian VHS series. It was called Baby Jesus, but it was only really sold around the South and was never a huge hit. My parents produced it and sold it to churches. It was for like Bible study.”

This was all true. In the series, I played a young Jesus who would give Bible lessons to other kids on the screen and play fun games. Each VHS would have a few episodes on it and it was intended to be a safe and fun alternative to the evils of television cartoons for Christian kids. It last for about four years and was a mild regional success even if it had a confusing name… I was not a baby, but I guess pre-teen Jesus didn’t sound right. I was essentially one of those bullet points that would end up on BuzzFeedy list like “25 Reasons You Know You Grew up in North Carolina, like ��You remember when Jesus was a nine-year-old.

Officer Nguyen chuckled.

   “Yeah. One of the officers down here thought she recognized your name and after some searching online we were able to figure it out, along with figuring out one of your other problems.”

    “What’s that?”

    “Your address is listed on your Facebook profile.”

“Fucking idiot,” I cursed myself in my head.

    “You should take it down immediately and modify your privacy settings, maybe delete the whole profile. Seeing is that you are a person well-known enough that some people recognize you, this could be a stalker case. We now have a watch on your mail in case anything else shows up. Other than that though, just bring the evidence down to the station tonight and we will continue investigating.

I went back to my office after dropping the ear off at the station with a smiling Officer Nguyen after a stop at Rite Aid to pick up an inflatable air mattress. There was no way I was going to continue sleeping at an apartment that someone who was compelled to mail me body parts had the address to.

The first thing I did in my office was do some extensive Google searching to make sure my place of employment was listed nowhere online and it wasn’t. Thank God for never joining LinkedIn.

My intuition led me to some other Google searching after extracting all the information I could about myself and I focused on two topics.

George Harden

Who was selling Elvis stamps on ebay

Searching George Harden wasn’t much help. All I could find about the George Harden from Murphy, North Carolina was an obituary from a few years ago that described a life a lot like the one of pretty much everyone who was in their 30s right now’s grandpa. He grew up in Murphy, fought in World War II, came back got married, had one son, Gabriel, worked in a mill until he retired and his wife passed away about a year before he did.

Searching for ebay sellers of Elvis stamps would prove to be a little bit more fruitful. There were only two sellers –proudmomto2 and HisWordIsTHEWORD17. Knowing the stamps were a bit of a collector’s item and worth more than the 29-cent value printed on them, I thought it was strange that my pen pal was using them for his postage. I sent private messages to both users asking if they would be able to provide me information on any buyers they have recently had in the North Carolina area and went to bed on my plastic air mattress on the floor.

I was awoken the next day by the sound of my cell phone ringing a little after 6 a.m.

It was Officer Nguyen.

   “We found another one that was one its way to you this morning,” Officer Nguyen started in before I had really even woken up. “This time it was a nose. Same format with everything though. No note, no return address, just what I am guessing is George Harden’s nose in an envelope addressed to you.”

    “There’s no way you can get some clues on this? Fingerprints on the envelope?” I pleaded through a throat clogged with morning phlegm.

   “…it doesn’t actually work that way. We are working on it though.”

Officer Nguyen’s last sentence was ringing through my ears as I continued my own investigation into the matter.

My first lead had gone nowhere as proudmomto2 told me she would never release any information about her buyers under any circumstances and threatened that if I continued any other communications with her that she would report me to ebay.

I was in the midst of giving up my amateur investigation and retreating to the sugary sweet arms of our company snack bar when I received a new message on ebay. This one from HisWordIsTHEWORD17.

HisWordIsTHEWORD17 was much more helpful. He was simple and to the point, explaining it was not legal to divulge any of this information online, but he could mail me a physical copy of the addresses of those that ordered Elvis stamps from him, but without names. He would just need me to PayPal him the money for shipping and $30 for his time to put it together and he would have them to me in a couple of days. I quickly PayPalled him the money, wrote for him to mail the info to my office address and asked if he would put the names in if I gave him $200, but would never receive a response.

It wasn’t much, I thought, but it was something.

   “It’s a package this time,” Officer Nguyen’s voice would gut the normalcy that had returned to my life for around 24 hours.

   “What’s in it?” I asked frantically and shut the door to my office.

    “We don’t know yet. It’s with a bomb squad right now, they have to check it for explosives since it is a package this time, but the outside of the thing doesn’t give us anything. Same format.”

   “Well shit. Please call me as soon as you have something else,” I said before we ended the call.

I would receive a call back from Officer Nguyen at around 10 p.m. when I was sitting on my computer, pretending to be working late as the cleaning crew tidied up the rest of the office.

   “Mr. Rowley, I am calling you to let you know that we have found the contents of the package. It was an eye, a single eye. We believe to belonged to George Harden.”

    “And you have no leads on this?” I asked in an intentionally condescending tone.

   “As I said, these things don’t really work how they do on TV. It is a very long, painstaking process and we might never actually even get a concrete lead on this thing, but we are working on it.”

    “I’m living in my fucking office right now because of this shit and it’s simply not acceptable.”

I shot a look out of my office door to see if any of the cleaning crew were around before getting up and slamming the thing shut.

    “I apologize, Mr. Rowley. We truly are doing everything we can on this. We simply are not getting much. Hopefully some better evidence will present itself. It usually does.”

    “I know. I know. I know.”

I truly felt a tiny bit sad for Officer Nguyen so I backed off a bit. I knew what it was like at work to be hitting your head against a wall and having people breathe down your neck even though there was really nothing you could do.

   “I’m sorry,” I said before I hung up.

I was failing to catch back up to my breath when there was a soft knock upon the door. I was sure it was the cleaning crew again. They had actually surprised me last night when I was bedding down and I was praying to God they weren’t coming to tell me that they had told other people about me staying there.

With this in mind, I opened the door up with a friendly smile, but no one was there. At least that was what I thought before I felt a body wrap around me from behind and quickly faded into a sudden sleep.

----

I awoke sitting, in a darkened room, the only source of light in the thing the flickering of an old black and white TV like a moth in the air of the night. The world was slowly coming back to me, but I was pretty sure I recognized the scene on the TV.

After a few moments of squinting, it started to come into focus. It was an edition of Baby Jesus and there I was, around age 10, clad in the garb of Jesus, surrounded by kids in a church. I could barely make out the dialogue due to the low volume, but it didn’t matter, I remembered this episode by heart and it all started to make sense.

The shot on the screen cut to a close up of my face and I heard and knew the dialogue at the same time.

   “What are the ways that we can appreciate Christ?” I whispered out loud in unison with the broadcast.

I looked down to my arms and legs to see I was strapped into a thick wooden chair in the middle of the room that was bolted to the hardwood floor. My brain told me to frantically start squirming about, but my body didn’t really want to move at all, I felt as if my blood had been replaced with cement and my heavy eyes remained on the TV set.

My childish voice broadcast from the TV.

    “We can appreciate Christ with our taste, our mouth. We can appreciate the food he gives us with our teeth.”

On the screen, I watched a close-up of my adolescent mouth biting an apple with my teeth.

    “We can appreciate Christ with our hearing, our ears. We can listen to the beautiful music, sound of the birds or conversation with family and friends with our ears.”

On the screen, I watched a close-up of my little ears leaned towards a strumming acoustic guitar.

   “We can appreciate Christ with our smell, our nose. We can smell all of the wonderful scents he has put in the world.”

On the screen, I watched a close-up of my young nose sniffing a flower.

A faint, groggy voice shot out from behind me and made me jump in my lashed in seat.

    “Gabriel loved you.”

I twisted around as much as I could in my chair to get a tiny sliver of a glimpse of what was behind me out of the corner of my right eye. Strapped into a chair in the same fashion as me was an elderly man barely clad in boxer shorts and a plain white shirt. He was so dried out and grizzled he looked like he might just float away into the air if he was struck by a breeze. More concerning than his body was his face, scabbed and battered, he was missing an eye, an ear and most of his nose.

Despite all of the alterations, I still recognized the face from a recent obituary I had read… it was George Harden.

     “It was all his mother would let him watch, was you. She taught him the word of God through you. He truly believed you were the son of God. He worshipped you, still does. This was his dream. I the father and you the son,” I noticed an array of missing teeth when George spoke again.

    “What the hell does that mean?” I screamed and furiously tried to escape my lashings, but didn’t have the least bit of success. “Why are you doing this?”

    “I’m not doing anything,” George said out of breath before being interrupted by the pounding of heavy footsteps outside of the room.

   “He’s here,” George finished with a gasp.

The door behind the TV slowly opened, trickling in some light from the hallway that cast the stout figure in the doorway in a glorious hue of gold, illuminating his shirtless and chiseled torso that was almost completely covered in tattoos of Christian nature. The man stood there for a few moments in nothing but a white pair of briefs, almost as if he was relishing in me taking in his form for the first time.

The tattooed man strode into the room like a Greek god, pushed the TV stand out of the way and picked up something off of the top of the VCR that I couldn’t make out in the near dark.

    “Why are you doing this? Who are you? What are you doing?” I screamed all of the questions at the man as he approached me, but he gave me no answer. I watched as he ignored all of my demands and knelt down and prayed right in front of me.

For a few moments, I wondered if I was going to be okay. He seemed to have some fucked up belief I was Jesus, maybe he was going to worship me and I could eventually escape. There seemed to be hope.

But it was not to be true. I knew it as soon as I saw what he had taken from atop the VCR.

A pair of pliers.

I closed my eyes just as I saw those pliers head towards my mouth, but my lack of sight did nothing to interfere with the feeling of that cold metal vise fight through my squirming lips and latch onto one of my teeth.

I swallowed a heavy and sorrowful gulp of saliva, knowing what was coming next.

Originally published by Thought Catalog at www.ThoughtCatalog.com