#jack feels very stagnant in this moment

[heretherebedork]

I just want to see Joke not be the one blamed for everything. I just wanna see Joke loved and appreciated and not watch him fall apart because he doesn't believe he can be loved or is worth being loved. I want to see him know he's worth loving and being loved and not just crushed instantly every time he tries to help, crushed and wrong and the betrayer every time he tries to save Jack from what the rest of the world is trying to do to him. I want to see Jack remember why he forgave Joke and when Joke forgave Tattoo and when Joke forgave his dad and I want to see Jack grow because of Joke not just the other way around.

Joke has to prove himself and prove himself and prove himself and he never, ever gets to rest or stop or just be because it's a constant fight to prove himself every second and every day.

[starythewriter]

JACK Harlow X you- an interview filled day.

TW: sexual themes but no smut. Fluff!

Jack walked with you sitting down next to you.

As you both prepared for the interview. With Alex cooper!

You both sat down, you swallowed feeling nervous as you already knew that everybody was hungry for the tea.

“So… let’s start off with something simple how are you both doing?”

“Great… feeling the baddest” you said giggling.

“I’m chillin”

Said Jack.

“Amazing” said Alex with a big smile, really getting comfortable.

“So let’s talk about your come up” said Alex you, smiled saying “well, originally, I kinda just started posting on social media expecting nothing and I had two main accounts and they went viral, but at some point they went stagnant and then I created another account which blew up and every since I’ve been growing!”

You said smiling “that is amazing” said Alex.

“Now how do the both of you know eachother?”

Said Alex with curiosity eyes.

“Well… we kinda met at once of my concerts and we just really connected… her energy is unmatched and also, I value her work and her dedication” said Jack smiling, you looked over at him, as he smiled and gave you a lustful gaze before quickly looking back at Alex.

“WOW seems like right out of a book… well tell me more about the two if you what inspired you two to collab and then create a a photoshoot. I got the vision of the fragrance brand and the sexy strawberry scent. But it seems to have caused a lot of uproar on social media along with questions about the both of you.” Says Alex interested in your answer.

She was hungry for the answer, you hesitated to answer as you felt like Jack wasn’t really ready to announce anything. So you let him take over.

“Well we both wanted to work on the song, Y/N came up with the idea, so we made the song and added some tunes, we also added some ocean sounds and the sound of the actual universe. As we wanted to create something very magical. As for the photo shoot… I’ll let Y/N explain.”

“Well… here’s the thing I wanted this Fragrance to be beyond sexy. & once person came to mind Jack, so I hit him up and asked, everything went smooth and we enjoyed it, it was a statement of how the strawberry, scent was potent and stronger and was perfect for intimate moments along with romantic moments. The photoshoot, was risqué, and it was revealing but that was part of it!” You said feeling proud. You created an amazing fragrance but also, you knew that the photoshoot caused a giant controversy.

“Did you know it would cause such a big splash?”

Asked cooper with immense curiosity, she kept her gaze on you.

“Not really. I mean I thought it would be something big, and impressive but I never expected it to go viral on Twitter and just drag out I mean…”

“Yeah I get that. The response was really good but heated and controversial…”

“Yeah, I agree Alex, it was very big. But here’s the thing, people started to just attack me and him I guess because they thought that we were together or that I stole him which is nobody’s business”

You said feeling, confident… you reflected a little about all of the heat. But you and Jack had a decision and nobody had a problem with keeping things private. So…

“I see that’s respectable. & your right all of that was assumptions that people made”

“Yeah… but I’m happy Y/N is happy and we made something iconic. That’s all that matters” said Jack smiling while looking at me. I smiled back.

*time skip*

We finished with the podcast… “that was fun but… now it’s time to get to this red carpet jack!” You said rushing into the red carpet, smiling as everybody took pictures of the both of you.

You turned around swirling letting your dress have expire to the cameras while Jack stood there smiling and doing something similar. You both walked up, as he held your hand helping you delicately walking up every single step. As you got ontop you both smiled.

“We made it…. A podcast and this red carpet at the met gala… for a cancer foundation. I’m so happy… we will be able to allocate 2.4 million dollars toward cancer patients. 1.6 which will go toward the actual patients and the rest toward research purposes…”

“I’m so proud of YOU. Y/n you did all of this you went on the show you made songs, you made collabs, and you raised so much money.

Now you can give back without worrying about loosing a dime. You give back and you just receive more… you’re a special person Y/N. A person that’s hard to come by, someone so special”

The end!

[paintedplum7]

Dave Miller’s Character—From the Perspective of an Age Regressor

Slight disclaimer: This is not meant to be a 100% ‘yes this is the intended reading’ kind of analysis post on Dave Miller. I’m mostly writing this for myself more than anything, but I also feel like there is something here, intended or not! Take in mind I’m also not going to be using supplementary material like ask replies from Dogman into account, just the games! Feel free to take anything I say with a small palmful of salt ;]

So when I got back into DSAF earlier back in November, becoming familiar with Dave after realizing that I was an age regressor sort of made me put his character in a new light. Recently, I played through all three DSAF games in order, and there were several moments—particularly in DSAF 3—that sort of made me go “oh yeah, he totally is an age regressor”.

Dave’s regression is more psychological, more permanent, similar to my own, so that’s the lens I’ll be viewing Dave from for the remainder of this post. Usually, when I think of Dave, there’s a Bojack Horseman quote that pops up in my mind every time. Paraphrased from memory, it’s “People who become famous in their twenties stay in their twenties,” and I think that quote applies to Dave very well. Even Jack, who similarly died in his twenties, still matures with his franchise if we take his dialogue options at face value. Dave however, never changes all that much. Yes, his character is refined in between DSAF 1 and 2, but after that point, he remains largely stagnant.

We know that Dave associates his young adulthood to be his childhood, and seeks to recreate his childhood via Jack. Well into his middle ages in the nineties, and even after his soul is split apart between realities, even after he learns the truth of Henry, and leaves Jack, he still clings those memories. That much is obvious. Dave’s childhood at Fredbear’s is tied to him all throughout the series; it dictates how he acts, but that’s explicitly stated in the games several times. I want to dig a little deeper, because I think his regression extends more than just him being close to the diner.

Dave is incredibly childish, even for someone that’s presumably stuck in his twenties due to the experiments conducted by Henry. Henry said himself that Dave’s conscience ‘unburdened itself’ after he started taking tissue from his frontal lobe. Some aspects of his childishness include:

Talking to himself.

Being a messy eater.

Throwing tantrums. (I’m sorry for the dip in quality. I had to boot up my computer to get these specific lines of text because there was no useable footage online, and I had to use my shitty phone camera to get these pictures because Windows makes transferring screenshots to mobile devices so DIFFICULT).

And squabbling on whether Chica is a duck or not with Dee, to name a few. (I find this fight to be interesting on Dee’s end, too. Dee and Dave are foils. Dee believing herself to be an adult despite being six years old, and Dave’s childish tendencies well into his adulthood is just one of the many examples of them being foils).

Even his fears display his immaturity!

This is just off the top of my head, too! If I’ve missed something let me know!

In spite of that, Dave loves feeling useful, and I think it’s in due to the fact that Henry frequently infantilized him in their time together, and him calling Dave ‘Willy’ is only scratching the surface of examples.

(Mollycoddle means to give someone an absurd amount of protection, or pampering, typically towards men and boys).

I know that feeling of knowing that you’re less mature than your other peers, and having the need to make up for it, and I think Dave encapsulates that feeling very well.

I think what I love the most about Dave and his regression is that he’s still unapologetically raunchy! His childishness, his immaturity, his regression, whatever you want to call it—it doesn’t exempt him from that part of himself. It’s easy to associate what isn’t the perfect pastel-colored box as ‘ugly regression’, a term that I hate because it implies regression needs to look a certain way. It doesn’t; that’s not true at all. I’m very glad there’s a character like Dave I can relate to, even if I am grasping for straws out here lol

This was a really fun, self-indulgent analysis to make, and while I doubt most of it was intentional, I think there’s something you can get out of this, particularly with Dave and Henry, but that’s it for now!

[kivaember]

me trying to figure things out re: proto-fiend lore in smtvv and my vanilla smtv headcanons for pre-aogami susano-o... by obvs writing a susano-o/tsukuyomi pwp :|

well anyway here's a teaser

-

Summer. Tsukuyomi’s most hated season and yet the most inescapable. As the world entered a warming state due to humanity’s breakneck technological progress, Tokyo sizzled more and more with each orbit of the sun, and the jungle of concrete and glass only amplified this inescapable heat to the point where even demons were put in a state of lethargy and disgust - and the Proto-Fiends were no exception to this rule.

Crafted by human hands, the Proto-Fiend bodies were inherently flawed compared to their more divine kin, yet they brought advantages with them that other demons coveted jealously: Proto-Fiends were capable of growth and change, trading additional vulnerabilities for the advantage of human ingenuity strengthening them. Of course, Amaterasu, Susano-o and Tsukuyomi were free to spurn the Proto-Fiend bodies to take upon their far more divine yet stagnant forms, but they were long used to this arrangement their father had made with humanity by this point, and so usually stuck with their flawed yet limitless bodies.

However, it seemed that even Proto-Fiends weren’t immune to excessive heatwaves, especially humid heatwaves, which has resulted in Tsukuyomi’s current predicament…

“Ugh. This damn heat…”

The moon was naught but a tiny sliver in the sky, the stars concealed behind patchy yet thick clouds that contained the sticky, humid heat pressing down upon Tokyo. The night hadn’t brought cool relief like Tsukuyomi had hoped, and his little trip to Inakuma shrine for some privacy turned out to be very ill-advised as a result. As claustrophobic as Bethel Japan HQ could be sometimes, it had air-conditioning.

Tsukuyomi, sprawled out on the concave roof of his shrine, scowled at the starless sky above, genuinely contemplating shedding his current Proto-Fiend form until this oppressive heatwave had passed. It wouldn’t be too much of a hardship for the humans to construct him another vessel - Tsukuyomi was cautious enough that they had enough bodies for him to die several times over in one evening before they hit the emergency stocks - but the problem was that Susano-o and even Amaterasu wouldn’t let him forget it.

too weak to endure even a little bit of heat, they’d no doubt tease, and Tsukuyomi’s pride refused to hand them that ammunition. It was bad enough that he was the weakest among them as it was, with an identity that was ephemeral and being steadily consumed by pop culture and commercialism (the less said about Susano-o discovering ‘sexy anime Tsukuyomi’ from human entertainment, the better), but confirming their suspicions on his constitution and having them mock him, or worse, pity him? Tsukuyomi would rather suffer instead.

So he sulked out here instead, in the privacy of his shrine, slowly cooking alive in his Proto-Fiend body. Maybe for next summer he should press-gang a bunch of Jack Frosts into service… make them create a giant snowstorm localised right here… that would be lovely…

A sudden surge of ozone and a blissfully cool gust of wind stirred the stagnant air, heralding Susano-o’s boisterous arrival onto the scene. Tsukuyomi closed his eyes, too exhausted and hot to feel annoyed about his brother’s intrusion. This may as well happen. If he ignored him maybe he’ll just go away.

“Brother!” Susano-o boomed obnoxiously, the acoustic of the shrine making it echo like thunder as the oaf lumbered over. Tsukuyomi practically heard every heavy stomp of Susano-o’s feet. “Brother, are you here?”

Tsukuyomi ignored him.

Susano-o harrumphed loudly, muttering something too low for him to hear. After a moment, Tsukuyomi heard the thump and creak of his brother hauling himself up onto the shrine’s roof, the structure groaning in protest from his considerable bulk - and inelegant way of climbing! What was he doing, kicking footholds into the wall?

“I’m getting too old to climb after you like this, brother!” Susano-o bitched, only to be interrupted by the sound of clattering roof tiles and-

SMASH!

“Ah, shit. Fuck,” Susano-o said. “Crap.”

“Stop destroying my shrine,” Tsukuyomi mumbled half-heartedly.

“He lives!” Susano-o proclaimed, and Tsukuyomi grunted when he felt his brother’s large hands grasp his shoulders and give him a shake. The back of his head whacked the roof a few times from the vigorous shakedown his brother gave him.

“I feared the worst, seeing you lie here so still!” Susano-o said with his usual needless dramatics. “Whatever is the matter with you, brother! Why- ah, why are you naked…”

“I’m hot,” Tsukuyomi admitted. He couldn’t think of any other reason that wouldn’t have Susano-o twisting it to something deviant and weird. “So I stripped.”

“I see…”

[onebluebookworm]

Ranking Books I Read in 2023 - 35-31

35. Maurice - E.M. Forster

Honestly, I didn't read any bad books this year. Just ones that weren't as good as I was anticipating. I'm not gonna deny this one is a trailblazing work and a classic of LGBT literature, but it's also hella boring and spends a lot of time on small details of English aristocracy life in the early 20th century. The love story is sweet and heartbreaking when we actually get to it, but for the most part, it's pretty stagnant.

34. Tuesdays With Morrie - Mitch Albom

My work's book club choice for February. I almost feel bad putting this up as high as it is, given this is about a real man who lived and died tragically, and this book obviously touched a lot of people, but it just didn't do anything for me. Maybe because I've never really been hep to the whole "old dying person gives sage life advice to the jaded young person" - especially something put out in the 90s where glurge like that was absolutely everywhere - but I was mostly just reading this to be done with it for the club. A few nice moments, and the scene of Morrie's death is pretty poignant, but I think the sparkle has officially come off.

33. Call Us What We Carry - Amanda Gorman

This is another one I feel bad I didn't like more. Amanda Gorman does have talent (the section inspired by Moby Dick was very interesting), but these mostly felt like first drafts. I've heard a lot of people describe this collection as kind of an expectation about she did the inaugural poem, and...yeah, it does indeed feel that way. I have no doubt Gorman will put out better stuff in the future as she hones the craft, but this wasn't it.

32. The Body Snatchers - Jack Finney

I found this years ago at a used bookstore, and it's part of the Stephen King's choice library (books that he thinks are some of the best horror fiction out there), so of course I had to give it a shot. While I do love the plot and some of the story beats are legitimately scary (when they first find the pod taking on a human form, I got actual chills), but it's mostly a lot of traveling from one place to another and back again, and it makes this very slim book feel like it takes forty years. I prefer a lot of the adaptations.

31. Forager: Field Notes for Surviving a Family Cult - Michelle Dowd

I've ingested a lot of cult content in my time. Learning about cult shit always gets me excited. So of course when I found this at work, I had to read it. And...it kind fumbled. The presentation is cool - Dowd's anecdotes are structured like field notes that talk about plants you can live on, while tying it back to a moment from her life - but the whole thing feels very disconnected and messy. We jump around a lot in her life, and big events are glossed over. A let-down.

[brainwormsprompts]

Danny Phantom x World Trigger

So what if the portal in Danny basement didn't lead to the Ghost Zone but to the Neighbor world? This could work considering I've seen lots of ideas that the Infinite Reals isn't stagnant and that the haunt doors move (I don't know if this is confirmed in the DP canon) and it's canonic that the different Neighbor Worlds move in a wacky sort of orbital system. This would make the ghosts Neighbors who are trying to yoink people for their own respective societies. Maybe the trigger that is allowing the void travel is very experimental/deadly/top-secret which is why other nations aren't using it. Or maybe other nations consider the idea foolhardy and something that would never work so they don't try it and actively shun the nations that are trying it. There's also the resource management/intensity that you could think about. Many ways that you can spin it so that the small regulars of Danny's rogue gallery fit within this explanation. In fact, you could have a handful of Neighbor nations separately come up with the idea if you want to have "in-fighting" within the Gallery (again, I don't remember if this happened in canon). Maybe some of the Gallery eventually move into Amity Park and become unofficial citizens.

In this case, the Fenton tech probably isn't based off ectoplasm, but trion. Whether or not Jack and Maddie are aware of this fact is up to you. I can totally see them stumbling across a trion soldier, defeating it with Fenton wacky logic and then completely mistaking it for a ghost instead of an alien/otherworldly entity. Maybe they saw one of their friends get taken by trion soldiers and that's what started their obsession. But this means that there are a few triggers laying around the lab. Maybe Danny and Jazz have been trained in a few of these triggers and have some that are highly specialized to them. If so, assuming that one is going with the "half-dead" thing that makes Danny a halfa, then maybe he has his on him and he makes a black trigger out of his death. Granted, this feels like a stretch in plausibility so one may or may not want to include it.

Now because of the long standing, open portal to the Neighbor-verse, more trion expeditions from other nations probably pop up around Amity Park when compared to a place that doesn't have it. This makes Amity Parkers really experienced with what to do when that happens. Maybe they start to believe the Fentons. Maybe the Fentons or the Undying Trio start to give out basic triggers and train them in how to use it. For example, if a Bamster comes through, then the Amity Parkers immediately form groups and go into smaller areas while also doing head counts on some sort of public server. But a Marmod makes them scatter in pairs or maybe groups of 3-4 at the most. The overall affect is that there is a tight bond between Amity Parkers. One moment, the A-listers could be bullying others and the next, they're all working together to get to safety. I imagine that it affects the younger citizens more than the older ones, but that's just me.

With this, you can also decide how or if you want any characters to have Side Effects. One could have Danny have something like Chika's and have him have a danger sense that changes as he grows. So a Marmod would set if off strongly when the portal first opened but maybe after half a year or so, it registers as a medium or low threat to him. Maybe Dash has enhanced strength while Paulina can affect how others perceive her to a degree. Maybe Sam can talk to plants while Tucker has a complete and total understanding of technology.

As for how this ties into the main series, it would likely come into play after the Aftokrator invasion. Osamu pushes Border into an uncomfortable position for them. With the Away Mission coming up and many of their heavy hitters leaving for it, they want to make sure that they're not left completely defenseless should something similar happen while it's happening. So they look to outsource (with a huge blow to their pride). Now when Neighbors became widespread knowledge, the US Government tried to "recruit" Amity Park. However, they rebuffed the government multiple times including and up to the present. Whether or not the GIW came about as a way to strong arm them before or after this is up to you. When Border reaches out to them, the US Government doesn't really want to give them resources because the US likes to hoard weapons. So they direct Border to small town Amity Park which has been dealing with Neighbor attacks for a while yet has a very small casualty rate.

The Border goes to investigate and try and recruit. Their success depends largely on who they bring. Old Border members are much more likely to have things go over smoothly, bonus points to Danny if Yuma is brought along. But if it's just New Border agents, then it's going to end with Border not getting any help from Amity Park with the residents being mildly antagonistic to them. Danny would go out to meet them because while the Mayor may make big decisions for them, being the main protector makes his opinion valued. If the Border mentions the fact that they are gaining temporary protectors for the Away Trip, Danny is going to consult with any of the Rogue Gallery that has moved to Amity Park and/or Team Phantom. If Danny has Danger Sense, it would be a great show of power to Border if an attack comes through and he just sighs and sends out an alert. It would not only show that Danny has a "powerful" side effect for Border, but it also shows just how normalized attacks are and how most people go about their day through it, which is mind-boggling to Border who has shut down an entire area because of Neighbor attacks.

If Border passes the trust test, then Danny would probably ask about which Nations they're going through. He would casually throw out names and be like "well so and so is a small nation so they're less likely to have people but this nation is getting bigger so they might have some new captures" which would reveal just how valuable Amity Park is as an information source if not a defense ally.

[trolagygirl2022]

Hey hey Mimi! Here for the game ^^

Physical traits of you fs

The Devil H, Six of Swords, Queen of Pentacles, Eight of Cups H, Two of Pentacles, Strength R, Nine of Pentacles

I feel like your fs will have some foreign looks. They might have another race than you. I do think their are foreign, but they prolly live in the same country as you (idc but I think you're from canada; I think you once said it yourself). They probably have brown or dark hair. Their height is average to tall. I also think they look clean and always nice. They might care about their looks a lot and actually put a lot of effort into looking good. They are definitely pretty! Like I see you pulling someone who is just very nice looking, very pretty; might have a model like face. But I have o add they might have a resting bitch face. Their body is average to thin. They might have like a good built body and actually work out. I see a good abdomen. Like biceps, abs, a well trained chest. They might have a fair skin tone, but I think they are most likely tanned. And you might actually think they aren't pretty at first. They are attractive, but I think you'll be like "yeah they are pretty, but there isn't something special about them." I also see them wearing darker clothes. They have that rich vibe to themselves, but they might also enjoy casual clothes or the style grunge

Their aura/vibe

Four of Cups R, Seven of Pentacles R, The Sun, The Star, Ace of Pentacles, The Emperor R, Ten of Cups

They seem to be pretty spontaneous and open for a lot of things. I see them as an extrovert, a social butterfly. Laughing, gigling, and enjoying is something they do on the daily. They are really nice and open. They also seem to be someone with feminine energy. They are down to earth and interested in the world. They are caring when it comes to the people around them. I also think they are really hardworking and hard on themselfe. They don't care if they are able to please others with their work as they find it really important to meet their standards, and they want to be proud of their work. Oh and tbh the vibe I'm getting is that they are like 1 to 3 years older than you but they are on the same maturity level as you

How others see ur fs

King of Pentacles R, Ten of Wands, Page of Pentacles, The Hanged Man R, Seven of Wands, The Magician R

People around them think they are pretty young when it comes to their mentality. Like kinda immature. Also, a lot think that they aren't successful at what they do. They lack skill, and it's noticeable. Yet everyone knows how hard they are trying to manage everything well... even though things might be stagnant from time to time. They are really working on things they aren't satisfied with. Many might also think they are someone who fight for themselfe and that stand up for themselfe. I also get the feeling that a lot think that they don't go with the flow. Most of the time, they are a follower, but as they mature, they actually find more happiness in other things. Things that not everyone likes. They are pretty unique and do things that not everyone does.

Hope you like it 🩷🩷🩷

X Risa

I am Canadian, I would really like someone that knows Canadian culture because we can really bond! They're really my type lol.

Physical Appearance: The Hanged Man, Knight of Cups, The Wheel of Fortune, 2 of Pentacles.

The moment WoF popped out I got "genetic lottery" so I see this person being very naturally good looking. Like they don't need to do lots of stuff to look good. If they're mixed then they're an even mix between two races. If not then they really resemble both of their parents. Oh major thing here that I see is them being pretty jacked and they have a nice body. If they're a guy, I see them having broad shoulders, big biceps and being pretty strong. If they're a girl then I see them being veeryyy curvy. I see something with their hair, I feel like it's pretty bouncy and big. This person is probably on the tanner side as well. They have really good facial harmony and overall have a nice face to look at. Back to the skin, the scent of caramel came to mind so I see them having a similar skin tone to that. Their features can be a bit more "feminine" though, like they have this one trait that softens their face (it'll be cute though!). They could possibly have blue eyes or some lighter colour. Their energy is a bit youthful so they might be younger than you. Egypt could be relevant to them or their identity.

Their aura/vibe: The Emperor, 4 of Cups, The World, The Emperor, 7 of Wands rev, King of Wands rev.

Your future spouse seemed pretty stubborn and hesitant to answer my questions. So I see them probably going through some tough path at the moment. So back to their aura, The Emperor really spoke to me. I was getting a bit of a "bossy" vibe? It's giving someone that can be pretty harsh. I see them coming off as quite difficult? They're pretty stubborn and they like to sit back. I wouldn't be surprised if they have a major fire stellium (specifically aries and sagittarius). I see them as not being as mature at the moment. They can come off as pretty domineering too, they seem to enjoy giving out orders and can have a sharp tongue. This is someone that seems to prioritize themselves, it seems to be a coping mechanism so they can be pretty careless and don't prioritize other people's feelings. They can be mean and not be conscious of it. I'm seeing them being in their own mini world so they can be pretty detached.

How others see them: Ace of Cups, 3 of Swords, The Tower, Death.

Ok umm asides from Ace of Cups the energy is very negative 😭. So I see people appreciating their beauty and good looks. It seems like a positive thing people acknowledge about them. I also see them being pretty caring to their loved ones and people they care about. Now, I see a lot of people disliking them and feeling hurt by their actions and such. I see "heartbreaker"? So they're aware of their looks but they don't really care for relationships? I see people also thinking of them as careless and immature. They have a LOT of work to do before you meet them. I'm also thinking about "fire cracker". So they like to speak what they think and don't think about the possible repercussions. People think that they need a complete 360 and they really need to change and mature.

[natewriteslol]

May i request this with the dorm leaders please?

 Dorm Leaders being teased and flirted with by their crush (they are the only person they flirt with)

Riddle:

-Riddle isn’t used to being flirted with AT ALL so this is a huge jump of change for him, especially when it’s his crush. 

-He isn’t exactly very readable when it comes to his feelings for you, alot of the things he does can be slightly described as things a really good friend could do. However, that blush slightly contradicts his “good friend” persona. 

-Whenever you would flirt with him, Riddle would completely explode. He tried so desperately to keep himself composed but would fail miserably. Your words were already enough but your touches? By the Great Seven-

-Typically he is very blunt and straight forward, however when it came to you? He just couldn’t do it 

-One day it was the breaking point for him, you softly poked his cheek while he was blushing, cooing at him “I think you really, really like me Riddle~”

- “A-and if I do?! So what? Your touches and things that you do may be meaningless for you, but they mean so much to me! So what is your end goal-?!” 

- “Riddle, my end goal was for you to realize that I liked you.”

-So all this time...you felt the same way about him...

-For someone so intelligent, he sure is...silly

Leona:

-He is a much desired man so flirting typically doesn’t phase him whatsoever. But he had such intense feelings for you that he was keeping under a mask for so long, and as you got closer and closer Leona could feel the mask slip.

-You absolutely terrified him, but excited him at the same time. Originally he thought that the roles would be reversed, you would become his new plaything and think that it would be a small adoration. But he was so wrong...

-He started to pay alot more attention to you, originally trying to stay away so that he could lose this interest. But the more he pushed back, the closer you became. It was awful...yet he was addicted. 

-Whenever you would flirt to the normal eye he looked unaffected, but his stagnant tail would flick in response, ears would twitch and he cough to try and calm the feelings in his cheeks. 

-No one had ever made him feel this way, so this drastic change was affecting him deeply. While a subtle change, his closest friends could most definitely could tell something was up. 

-He finally decided to open up to Jack and Ruggie about how he was feeling. The hyena beastman had made fun of him for just a moment before they both delivered the information that this affection from Y/N had only been reserved for him. 

-Leona’s confidence had most definitely grown and decided that he would confront you straight on about it. 

-You both were in the botanical garden chilling together, you were in the middle of making a flirtatious joke before being cut off by Leona

- “If I didn’t know any better, you make these jokes because you have a crush on me, right Y/N?” 

-Checkmate on boldness, something that you’ve never faced before. 

-Touche Leona, touche

Vil:

-He is used to slight flirtatiousness as that was how many of those in his life were whether it be fans, directors, fellow dorm members. Vil didn’t care for their touching or flattery and doesn’t think that much of it. 

-But with you, someone who he absolutely adored, it meant so much to him. Your words of adoration for not just his exterior beauty, but internally as well. He used to come even be intimidated, but your love, it was so warm. 

-You seemed to occasionally make fun of him as well, and this one, small thing that you did to Vil was the final straw. It was during theater class and no one was really paying attention, doing their own thing. 

-And somehow you wrapped yourself in his arms, saying “Oh Vil, it would feel so good to be all yours” in an obviously overexaggerated tone. But even though this was a joke, Vil still was dramatically affected. 

-He quickly ran to the bathroom, leaning against the stall panting with a heavy blush painted on his cheeks. How could he, Vil Schoenheit become so flustered by this person? He’s untouchable, unattainable, the one who makes others faint at the sight of him. Yet you have him completely whipped. 

-One day, he calls you to talk to him at NRC’s courtyard. Saying that it was something important and he needed to speak to you after class. 

- “I’d never thought that I’d be saying this, however, Y/N why do you constantly flirt with me?” At first, you apologized, thinking that you made Vil uncomfortable with your advances, but he continues speaking. 

- “If I am being completely honest, I do like you, Y/N L/N. You scare me, but in a way, I have never been scared before, why do you do the things that you do? Is it just to toy with me?”

 -“It’s because I like you, Vil.”

-HE KNEW IT. OH MY GOD, FINALLY HE FUCKING KNEW IT. THANK THE GREAT SEVEN LUCK WAS IN HIS FAVOR. 

-And that is what started your guy’s great journey of being one another’s partners. 

Azul:

-Was not used to it AT ALL. Throughout his youth, he had only been ostracized and made fun of, so this is a very intense contrast for him. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT’S HIS CRUSH.

-At first, when you started to do light flirting Azul was completely composed, and didn’t exactly have an intense crush on you. He didn’t think much of it and didn’t want to let himself get wrapped up in case you were just joking or fooling around with him. However, the more that you two would interact, the more amazing things you would do, Azul soon found himself completely around your finger. 

-And he hated it. He wanted to be a strong, independent figure who didn’t need anyone, someone who didn’t have time for something like love. Yet he was enraptured by you. 

-Yet your advances grew stronger, and it became more and more unbearable to contain yourself. He tried his best to stay strong but failed completely. And soon he completely popped.

- “Why? Why do you do these things to me and make me feel this way? Is this some joke to you-?” 

- “Azul, I did all of that because I’ve been in love with you?” 

- There was a wave of silence, Azul was red as a tomato with a hand covering his mouth. You adorned a smirk since this was the most flustered you have seen him ever. Until his eyes rolled back, fainting from the shock of your answer. 

-You caught him in your arms, adoring his beautiful features that you’ve studied for so long. Once he wakes up, you would be able to start your new beginning with him together. 

Kalim:

-He is most definitely not a stranger to flirting, he is a very friendly and open person. It was hard to get him flustered but you managed to complete such a feat. 

-Kalim was most definitely overthinking your moves and the things you said, making Jamil wonder if he could possibly put this thinking into his studies. However, his job is to make his master happy and he was tired of him moping around so he was trying his best to reassure him... but to no avail

- "It's no use, Jamil! They'll just end up HATING me!" Kalim said, exasperated. He was just so scared about it, despite people telling him to just confess and ask Y/N about it

- "Kalim, think about this, please. You're the only person that they flirt with, everyone else is strictly platonic."

- "I understand that you are scared, but you need to get a hold of yourself."

-Once he does confess he wasn't extremely nervous, he even had a smile on his face

- "Kalim, I really like you too. That's why I was flirting with you in the first place."

-It was complete silence for a moment before he beemed excitedly and locking you in an embrace

Malleus:

-Malleus was never used to this type of affection from another person, so this was such a drastic change. He couldn’t tell why you were doing this?

-It made him feel a certain way on the inside whenever you would flirt with him, a butterfly, bubbly like feeling. And while Malleus enjoyed this, he still felt a slight pang of reality hit him, were you meaning to make him feel this way?

-You would never do this with others as he was quite observant with you, therefore he decided to confront you >:(

- “Child of man, I’ve been meaning to ask why you’ve been acting this way around me, has there been something you’ve wanted to tell me?” 

-You felt cornered, no one has really called out your flirting let alone the man you’ve been in love with. 

- “It’s that obvious, huh?” you started, surprising him with your next sentence “Listen, Malleus I’m sorry but I really like you.” 

-He stared at you with slight startledness before breaking into a baritone giggle, “Well that is good news for both of us, Child of Man because I like you too.”

Idia:

-You really got a kick out of flirting with him because Idia reacted to almost everything you did, whether it be small or a huge reaction. 

-Whispering in his ears, playing with his fingers, etc. you would always get him to erupt in a blush

-Idia already had a huge crush on you, but the things that you would do would make it grow day by day, how could you make him feel this way with such ease?

-But one day, the flirting was just becoming overwhelming and Idia had to come clean. 

- “L-Listen I know we’re friends and you obviously don’t like me like that but just calm down with the flirting, Y/N!”

- “Idia, I thought you already knew that I liked you, that’s why I do flirt with you.” 

- He literally fucking dies ogmgmgmg-

[anyponyrequests-archive]

important update on our current situation

hello everyone! as you may have noticed, we have taken a bit of a serious turn recently. in the past few days, mod applejack (jack) has needed support to help get him out of his household and moved into a safe one. for the moment, our requests will be very very stagnant and any finished ones will have a url attached linking to his paypal for donations. along with that, we will be posting sketch incentives for donated funds from mods starcatcher (hanna) and rainbowdash (pansy.) we will also be posting adopts from most of us to raise money and awareness for his situation. we understand not everyone can buy adopts or donate, and we don't expect that from anyone, but we would really appreciate if you guys could reblog the posts associated and spread awareness! if you can also financially help that is a huge support and we are grateful for every penny. until mod applejack is safely moved in with me (mod twilight/aspen) we will be focusing solely on getting him here! so again, please donate and if you can't then please spread the word if you feel inclined so, we are so so appreciative of all your lovely support and everything you've all done (and donated!) so far! we are grateful for you all helping us and welcoming us with open arms. thank you all so so much, from the bottom of our hearts, and we wish you all very well.<3

Link to jack's donations post

[novaiya]

It’s Getting Better - Dutch x Reader (NSFW)

Summary: Based on this request “I’ve never requested anything before and I am begging you to write some like caring Dutch Van Der linde smut? Like idk you were unhappy & he made you feel better?”

Words: 2197

Warnings: smut, reader has female anatomy.

A/N: It took me longer to come up with the title than to write this fanfic lmfao

It was a particularly beautiful day at Shady Belle. The air was heavy and wet, but that didn’t stop the current occupants of the land from taking big gulps of it, enjoying it more than the cigarette smoke that usually filled their lungs.

Outside, the stagnant pool of water sparkled under the yellow sun. Jack stood right next to it, by the docs, throwing rocks and sticks into the water. Abigail was not far away, sitting on a log, knitting and periodically looking up to check on her son.

Pearson was preparing yet another pot of stew. He knew the recipe by heart, and by now could probably chop all the vegetables and meat with his eyes closed. The smell of it carried all throughout the manor, filling every room with its mix of vegetables, meat and spices.

There seemed to be a lot of chatter both inside and around the house. You, however, didn’t pay attention to any of it, holed up in the big room on the second floor, wallowing up in your sorrows. You haven’t been able to be a productive member of the gang for some time now, still shaken up from everything that has happened in Clemens Point just a few weeks ago. There of course have been some victories since then, like getting Jack back, but you still couldn’t forget Sean and what happened to him. It didn’t help that Miss Grimshaw screamed at you when you were spacing out while washing clothes. You knew she didn’t mean to hurt you, she too was grieving and was trying her hardest to keep everyone and everything together. Still, that didn’t stop you from bursting into tears and running up to the bedroom you and Dutch shared.

You were laying on your side in the bed, your back to the door when you heard it open and close, footsteps approaching the bed.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Dutch said as he sat on the bed next to you, his hand reaching out and running down your hair.

You sniffled and used the cuff of your shirt to dry out the tears on your cheeks. You wanted to tell him how you felt, what was on your mind, but you were afraid; afraid that if you opened your mouth, tears, along with every thought that was in your mind, would release in a flood wave like water from a breached dam.

“C’mon sweetheart,” he said, his voice having a hint of sternness, but still soft and loving, “tell me.”

You turned around on the bed, sitting up a little bit to be able to see Dutch.

“I’m just-” you turned your face fully towards Dutch, your reddened eyes staring at his own-“I’m scared.” You took another, shaky breath and kept on. “First Arthur, then Sean, and then Jack, and then we had to flee. How long before we have to move again? How long before someone else dies?” Without you noticing your voice was getting louder and louder with each word you said. Before you knew it, you were practically screaming every one of them, and tears that you’ve tried to dry not a minute ago were back in full swing.

You could’ve probably kept going for hours, spilling out every single thought that was on your mind, but you were momentarily stopped when Dutch embraced you, holding your body to his. No more words escaped your mouth, except for occasional sobs and weeps. You were clinging to Dutch, holding for dear life to his shirt as he ran his hand down your hair and your back, occasional saying “it’s okay” You weren’t sure how long you were crying for, or when you stopped, but when you finally did, you were lying down on the bed, your head on Dutch’s chest, his hand still soothingly running over your hair and shoulder.

You blinked a few times, trying to get your vision to go back to normal after all the tears blurred it. You looked up at Dutch; he was already looking at you.

“How are you feeling?” he said.

“I’m okay,” you said, before taking another moment and adding, “I just need time. It’s been a lot.”

“I understand,” he said. “It’ll get better, sweetheart, I promise you.”

You smiled. Dutch didn’t have to promise you anything, you already believe in him, you always did.

You reached out towards him and kissed him.

“I know,” you said after breaking the kiss, your lips a hair away from each other. He pressed his lips back towards yours, his hand now on the back of your head, holding you close to him. His other hand was following the curve of your body, running down your waist and stopping at your hips. When it came to Dutch, even such small actions could instantly get a fire burning in you.

You moaned, much to Dutch’s delight, when he pushed his tongue in your mouth. You were clinging to him, your nails threatening to tear his vest apart.

He maneuvered you on the bed, pinning you down, his broad frame towering over you.

“Dutch,” you said breathlessly.

“Let me take care of you.” He placed a hand on your cheek, his thumb running small circles on your skin. You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes and nodding your head.

You felt his lips on your neck, soft and gentle, paving their way down with kisses and nips. You started to work on the buttons of your blouse, your excitement evident by the way you couldn’t get them to open right away. Once all the buttons were off, Dutch took over, pulling the blouse down and off of you, revealing your breasts. His mouth watered at the sight of your naked chest, your nipples standing at the attention, asking to be licked and sucked. He covered one of them with his mouth, using his hand to tweak and pull at the other.

“Dutch.” Your sighs and moans of his name only spurred him on more and more. He released your nipple from his mouth, kissing down your stomach and reaching the band of your skirt. You lifted your hips up, helping him to pull it down off of you, leaving you only in your drawers, which soon enough join the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

You were now completely naked in front of Dutch, nothing but a thin sheet of sweat covering you. Dutch’s eyes were all over you;  on your breasts, your perky nipples, your naval, your mound. The heat in his eyes was infectious, and it was making you feel sexy, aroused and aching all at the same time.

He was sitting on his knees, situated right between your spread legs, all of you open to him, running his hands all over you. You were starting to get impatient, so you moved your hips towards him, biting your lip when he gave you a curious look.

“Impatient today, aren’t we?”

“I always am when it comes to you.”

Dutch laughed. “I know, darling. I promised you I will take care of you, didn’t I?” he said as his fingers ghosted over your slit. The action, albeit small, was enough for you to buck your hips toward his fingers, wanting, needing more. He obliged, collecting your witness with his finger and pushing in. After all the ministrations, just his finger-long and thick-felt like too much. He started off slowly, his movements timed, his thumb doing soft circles over your clit, watching your face, your expressions. Your eyes were closed, your mouth slightly open, warm sights and moans coming from it. You were writhing under him, your hair a mess on the pillow, making it look like a halo over your head.

“Dutch, please,” you said. “More.”

Dutch smirked, and added a second finger, picking up the pace.

Your moans grew louder, which only egged Dutch on. You were now moving your hips in tandem with his fingers, meeting him at every thrust of his wrist. Dutch loved seeing you like this; so completely drowned in pleasure. He could go on for hours, bringing you to new heights, seeing your face during your undoing being his biggest reward.

“Fuck,” you moaned, your toes curling when you felt Dutch add a third finger. One of your hands reached behind you to grab at the pillow, needing something to hold on to, while the other traveled down your naval and to your heat. Your eyes met Dutch’s as you started to rub your clit. His face was flushed, your was probably too, and his intense gaze was enough proof of how much he was enjoying this. Your eyes traveled down, looking over his neck, his exposed chest, down to his pants where you could see an outline of his cock, straining over his pants.

As if sensing what you’re thinking about, Dutch said, “Cum now, darling, and I’ll give you what you want.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress the smile that was forming. Dutch knew you very well, especially when it came to things like this.

“Dutch,” you moaned when you felt your peak near. A particularly deep thrust of Dutch’s finger was all you needed to throw you over the edge, your body twisting and turning on the bed, Dutch’s name falling from your lips over and over again.

You opened your eyes, your orgasm finally faded. Dutch were smiling at you, the sight of you being lost in pleasure never getting old for him. He leaned down, kissing your chin, your cheek, your forehead and finally your lips. You weaved your fingers into his hair, bringing him impossibly close to you, so close you could feel his heartbeat against your chest.  

One of his hands was on your waist, while the other reached down to pull down the zipper of his pants, pulling out his cock.

He moaned your name as he slowly started to push in, your warm walls enveloping his member. When he was all the way in, he stilled for a moment, savoring the feeling of your wetness, of your body under him, of your scent filling his senses. He was addicted to you and he couldn’t get enough.

His hand found yours, interlocking fingers. His lips met yours once again, devouring you like you were the last drop of water in a desert.

Your hands were on his forearms when he started to move, his thrusts pushing you deeper into the bed.

It was getting uncomfortably hot in the room. Your activities, combined with the humid air surrounding Shady Bell made beats of sweat form on your forehead just like they have on Dutch’s. Both of your moans, sighs and hot breaths filled the bedroom, seeping through the cracks in the floor and gaps in the doors, bound to be noticed by anyone who walked past.

Dutch’s thrusts were becoming quicker and deeper. He was hitting all the rights spots inside of you, and if he kept up like that you were bound to come apart in a few moments.

“Dutch,” you moaned. “I’m gonna cum.”

At your words, he sneaked one hand down between your bodies, finding you clit and rubbing it in tandem with his thrusts. That was all you needed. In seconds, all you could do was hold to Dutch for dear life and repeat his name like a mantra, the thought that anyone could hear you being the last thing on your mind.

Your release, combined with your sensual moans of his name, was bringing Dutch closer to his own. The feeling of your wallas spasming around him was too much. He dropped to his elbows, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. His thrusts became slower, but rougher and deeper. You could feel his lips on your neck.

With a moan of your name, he came in you. You could feel his release coating your walls, some of it already dripping down your thighs. He kept moving his hips a few more times before stilling over you. One of your hands laid on his back, caressing him. Both of you were catching your breath, trying to bring your breathing back to normal before anything else. Finally, he pulled out of you, laying down right next to you.

You scooted closer to him, laying your head down on his chest and closing your eyes. The feeling of his chest rise and fall down was having a soporific effect on you.

“Feeling better?” Dutch said.

“Much better.”

“I’m glad.” He kissed the top of your head.

The two of you stayed like this for a while, not bothering to go back to your work or continue on with the day. You’ve been running for so long, that you simply couldn’t run anymore. You stayed like that all till the evening, your bodies entangled in each other. Only when you heard Pearson’s jolly voice announce “Get it while it’s hot” did the two of you emerge from the confines of your room.

It might be a while till you felt completely better, but with a man like Dutch by your side, you knew that it wouldn't be long.

[raisans-art]

What the Fuck Are these Characterizations: The Essay

Full warning: This is only concerning Tommy's stream made today, 4/29/2021. I know Ranboo has streamed after Tommy but I haven't watched that.

On with the essay.

A lot happened.

Tommy tried to kill Dream, Dream actually killed Ghostbur, Wilbur is back (pog). It's a lot. A lot of plot and a lot of emotions. I will preface this with the usual "holy hell these people are pretty damn good actors for having no formal training as far as I'm aware." They get their emotions across very clearly and that's kinda why I'm making this in the first place. The way some of the characters acted in Tommy's 4/29 stream is a bit odd in my opinion.

Now, I will concede that I have not been diligent with the Dream SMP lore. I've been given broad strokes and have seen various clips but I have definitely not been on top of it. I may have missed streams entirely and you all more avid fans may be able to name scenes that I haven't seen that rationalize some of these reactions that I will be criticizing. If you can, please do so! I'd love to start a dialogue over this!

So, how I'm gonna break this all up is to take a look at Tommy, Wilbur, Ranboo, and Awesamdude and how their CCs characterized them during the stream. I'll sing praises where they are due and point out my criticisms where they arise. Then, I will try to surmise some meta as to why I think these characterizations came to be in the first place.

Tommy

Tommy, to me, has the best characterization in this. CC Tommy clearly has a very good sense of what he wants from his character and has been playing into that line of thought from the beginning of this whole debacle.

Tommy is scared, paranoid, and pissed off. Ever since he left the prison he avoids taking damage like the plague, rambles indecisively, is easily sent into a panic, and is hypersensitive to the people around him. He panics when he sees weapons out and one crucial thing that he made clear from the start was that he wants Dream dead.

Straight out of limbo, Tommy concludes that Dream needs to die. From there he plans this whole mission with Ranboo, Tubbo, and Ghostbur to get in and kill Dream. He says that Dream can't keep living with this power at his fingertips, and from before his final death, Tommy clearly wants to be rid of his abuser, adding a personal layer to his plan. Tommy is stubborn and determined since the beginning, sacrificing his life and disks for L'manberg and refusing to believe that his home is gone until the place is blown to bedrock. Of course, he would stick to his plan to a T.

Now, is this a smart decision to sneak into the highest security area in the entire SMP? Fuck no. It's a stupid idea. Even if Tommy hadn't messed up, Sam would've seen Dream die to a floating axe and kept Tommy and Ghostbur in that containment cell. It would've been a one-way ticket, especially given what we see of Sam in this stream.

But this all makes sense for the character CC Tommy is playing. Tommy isn't thinking about how smart of a decision this is and he hardly ever does when he takes action. He shoots from the hip, takes his first instincts, and acts on them.

It's easy to draw a clear line of progression of Tommy as a character from season 1 to this moment in season 3 and past Ghostbur's death. His hyperventilating as he tries to get his plan to work after it failed, Trying to save Ghostbur from what he went through, lashing out at Sam, and yelling at Wilbur. All of this in line with who Tommy is as a character and how events have changed him. This is a good characterization.

Wilbur

Wilbur has changed a lot since we've seen him last, both alive and dead. Since he's been alive, Wilbur has changed his tune from "I want to die" to "hell sucks, mate." What's particularly interesting is that this sentiment that he has from being alive carried for a long time into his limbo, as evidenced by his appearance in the season 2 finale on the bench. He wanted to "stay dead" at that point. Since we've seen him in limbo, he's gone from content in his situation and understanding why he's there and that he's there forever.

Now we have Revivedbur. Revivedbur is ecstatic to be alive again. He goes from numb to embracing feeling again. The fandom once thought that Revivedbur would be annoyed with or hateful towards Dream for bringing him back turned into joy and reverence. This is quite a drastic leap. Bad characterization.

But it isn't.

I have seen one clip from Ranboo's stream on 4/29 and that is Ranboo telling Philza that Wilbur is alive. In this bit, after mentioning that Wilbur has been in limbo for a perceived 13 and a half years, Phil says "13 years is a long time to be away... he almost certainly isn't the same person... people can change quite a lot in a single year, two years, three years, four years, even five years, Ranboo."

Wilbur has been gone for 13 years. He's been in the same place with no change other than Tommy for 13 fucking years. That's 13 years where we heard from him 2 times. We know virtually nothing about what those 13 years were like for him, but from what Wilbur has said, it was torture to him. He was stagnant, stuck in a fucking tube station for 13 years, unable to leave no matter how hard he tried.

We know so little about how his time in limbo changed him because it's such a long span of time with radio silence. I dare say this is fucking great characterization.

Ranboo

This is where I start having some issues, and this is where I have the least amount of context. From what I've seen, Ranboo is little miss angst who forgets things and is constantly on the verge of having a panic attack (hyperbole). From what I have surmised of his character in various contexts, serious and dramatic scenes and domestic ones, Ranboo really cares about the people around him and is scared of himself and his mind.

So why is it that he straight up just sneers at Tommy, saying "the hell did you do?"

I'm really just focusing on this because it just seems really off to me in the context of his character. Ranboo was in on this plan. It's pretty common knowledge that the only person with revive powers is Dream. Ranboo doesn't know everything that happened within the prison, sure, but why is he so quick to assume that Tommy was the root cause? Is it because he's been hanging out with the world's 2nd biggest Tommy hater, Niki (the character for clarification)? I honestly don't know where this jump-in assumption is coming from. Given what I understand of his character, this line and the implications I'm getting are just a bit out of character. Feel free to explain why I'm wrong because I am not in this loop whatsoever.

Awesamdude

Sam is where I have the biggest issue. How does a man go from living on an isolated island in grief over a death he could've prevented if only he had been quicker, to yelling at that same formerly dead person that he was at fault for the death/revival of another person?

Now, one thing that is strengthened by this characterization is Sam's dedication to the rules. He has his strict protocol and he is not going to let that slip up for anything. He wants to keep Dream in prison and never let him out.

But I'm just having a hard time grappling with a man so quick to blame himself last time something like this happened being so quick to place blame on a child he, from what I've seen, had a good relationship with. It feels like I'm missing something here.

Yeah, Tommy broke into the prison, but why is Sam's first thought that Tommy was trying to break dream out? This harsh turn on Tommy just doesn't come across right to me.

Why Did This Happen?

I do think there could be a meta reason as to why these don't land right to me. These two characterizations are centered around Tommy. How people are reacting to Tommy's actions. Tommy and Dream are the head of the prison stuff right now. at least as far as I know. I'm not sure if Wilbur has come back on as a writer yet but last I heard it's still Tommy and Dream handling their shit. With the writers in mind, I wouldn't put it past them to decide to add more conflict with Tommy and other members of the SMP right now. The Egg is a bit busy with other things, Jack is just running the hotel, and the Syndicate doesn't really have any qualms with Tommy on any level that they would act on. It could be the writers trying to add conflict to the prison storyline by generating conflict between Tommy, Ranboo, and Sam with Wilbur being a fuckin wild card.

I don't know mate, I just wanted my thoughts out there and maybe be fucking pounded into the ground by people more knowledgeable than me.

Have a dialogue with me I'd love to debate. (All friendly debate please I don't feel like taking this too seriously it is Minecraft roleplay after all.)

[fanfic-scribbles]

Smile

Fandom: MCU Captain America/Avengers

Summary: Bucky gives you some reasons to smile.

Quick facts: Romance – Bucky Barnes/Reader – Female Reader

Warnings: Fluff, puns, cheesy jokes, so cheesy

Words: 3344

A/N: I’m going to admit it upfront, about 40 percent of the time spent on this fic was spent on writing it. The other 60 percent was spent on finding the jokes. Also, this story is semi-inspired by the fact that my face is not nearly as expressive as it feels (I basically look like the polite cat meme when I really try and I can’t do it for long before my face hurts too much) so this goes out to other people who get accused of resting bitch/asshole face. And get written up for it. Anyway, please enjoy this goofy little Bucky/Reader get together.

  ~

‘How do you make a tissue dance?’

‘Put a little boogie in it.’

Bucky snorts and coughs when he accidentally breathes coffee instead of air. ‘That’s disgusting,’ he texts back but Sam just replies with an obnoxious smiling face. Bucky shakes his head and goes back to his coffee. It’s actually not so terrible today.

He doesn’t hang out in a dive, but this coffee shop is a type of quiet he almost never sees in the city. It’s too far from the tourism path for convenience and just outside the neighborhood purview where there are many other local (better) favorites. It’s clean enough and decently sized, but it’s decorated like it was supposed to be trendy ten years ago and the place is barely staffed, to match its perpetually nigh-empty interior. There was a short-lived attempt at hiring another person, but after a ridiculous amount of turnover the owners, or whoever, apparently cut their losses and the only constants that remain are Bucky, the lone customer, you, the person actually working the counter, and your manager.

You’re nice. You always speak kindly to Bucky and, when you think you can sneak it, upsize his cup without comment or charge. Also, one time when his glove broke and slipped off, you hadn’t even commented on the arm; you’d even helped him stop panicking enough to see it hadn’t gone far and helped secure it temporarily with a rubber band.

Your manager, meanwhile, is a dick who glares at Bucky and once made a snide comment about him leaning too close to the register, and only talks to you in demanding barks. Like now– but the five minute “hushed” conversation is winding down and soon it will be safe for Bucky to go get his refill.

“I’m writing you up,” the manager says.

You jerk back in shock. “For not smiling enough?”

“It’s what we got marked down for, it’s what’s going on your record,” he says, turns on his heel, and retreats into the back to do jack shit. Bucky glares at his back as he goes. His harsh expression turns to a milder frown when he looks at you, hunched over and staring at the counter with a dead expression on your face.

He looks at his phone, looks at his empty coffee cup, and makes a quick decision.

“Can I get a refill?” he asks when he’s in front of you, startling you out of your stagnant misery. You look up at Bucky and after a second force an unnatural smile on your face. He winces on your behalf.

“Of course,” you say softly, and turn to refill the cup.

When you hand it back to him Bucky shuffles, hesitates, but finally asks, “Why are colds bad criminals?”

You blink. “Uh…why?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You blink again, and then let out a startled laugh. Bucky smiles slightly at the sound, and smiles more at the more natural, smaller turn of your lips as you say, “That’s…that’s a good one.”

“It’s pretty terrible.”

“All the best ones are,” you say, and the door chimes making Bucky break away. But as he watches you talk to the delivery man like normal he nods to himself. He leaves with his coffee to start the day and fires a quick text to Sam: ‘Where do you get your dumb jokes?’

~

The next day when the door chimes and you see your one regular customer, you let yourself smile a lot more naturally than you have been. Your face is starting to hurt and your boss is probably napping in the back, so you take the chance to relax.

“Hi,” you say. “The usual?”

“Please,” he says, polite as ever as he hands you exact change and you go to fix his cup. When you bring it back he asks, “What did the fish say when he swam into a wall?”

“What?”

“Dam.”

You giggle despite yourself. Bucky’s smile is small and guarded, but you haven’t had a moment yet where you haven’t been grateful to see it. Maybe this ‘smiling’ business is all it’s cracked up to be. If only it didn’t hurt your cheeks so much.

But as he tips his cup to you and goes to his favorite corner, you find you don’t mind the ache as much.

~

Every time he comes in now, he brings a new joke.

“What do you call a fake noodle?”

“An im-pasta.”

“What does a clock do when it’s hungry?”

“It goes back four seconds.”

“Why did the bike fall over?”

“It was two tired.”

The delivery is fairly flat but there’s always at least the hint of a smile and, you don’t know, it might be his absolute seriousness that sells it, because every one of them raises your spirits. You don’t know why he’s suddenly telling you jokes. For anyone else you might think they’re flirting, but you don’t get that impression here. He’s handsome, always looks put-together in quality clothes even if they seem picked for comfort over anything else, and even before this he has always been unfailingly polite. If he wants someone, he has to have someone just as lovely. Right?

You can’t help but think about it even after he comes back. And the wonderfully terrible jokes, thankfully, don’t stop.

“Why did the mushroom go to the party?”

You keep pouring the coffee while you ponder an answer. “I don’t know,” you decide and lift your head as you hand Bucky his drink.

The way he smiles is very fetching– not quite a smirk, it’s a little too unsure for that, but it tilts up to the side and gives him a boyish charm that would make anyone weak in the knees. “Because he was a fungi.”

It makes a smile big enough for you to feel, but considering how self-conscious you are now you quickly tell him, “I liked that.”

“I know,” he says. “You smiled.”

“You can tell?” Maybe you aren’t as bad off as you thought. Or maybe he’s just being nice. But he seems honest, and he nods decisively.

“I get not being the most…expressive.” He shrugs. “But anyone can still see it, if they look.”

The implication that he cares enough to look stuns you both to silence. He ducks his head shyly and lifts his coffee cup in thanks before retreating to his corner. When you finally have working vocal cords again you say, “Have a nice day.” It might be the first time you’ve ever really meant it.

~

“What’s the opposite of coffee?”

Bucky’s eyes widen and narrow in quick succession as he goes from surprise to contemplation. He weighs your question with all the dramatic seriousness you could hope for before he says, “I don’t know. What is the opposite of coffee?”

You grin when you say, “Sneezy.”

His smile is bright and he nods his head. “Not bad, not bad.” He leans on the counter, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him. It’s…shockingly warming. You have to remind yourself not to get too close. He showed up out of the blue and he can be gone just as quickly. Just because he’s nice doesn’t mean he has any attachment here. In fact, you hope he doesn’t– you’d question his sanity otherwise. “Why did Mozart hate chickens?”

“I don’t know,” you say, eager to hear the answer.

“Because when he asked them for their favorite composer, they said, “Bach! Bach! Bach!’”

You laugh– that is, of course, when your supervisor pokes his head out of the back and scowls at you. He should be happy that you’re ‘smiling enough’ but you know full well anything you do is never going to be good. You freeze whatever expression is on your face as Bucky’s mood darkens and your heart sinks. “Enjoy your coffee,” you say, infusing meaning into every word. That ekes out a small imitation of a smile as Bucky raises his cup and goes to his seat.

Your supervisor starts to stalk over to you but you are saved by the sudden ringing of a phone, and he blessedly turns on his heel and goes to answer.

You sigh and start cleaning up the counter. Bucky is in his corner, hunched over and quiet as usual. He looks fine, but you feel bad for the interruption, even though you get the impression he understands. Still, this is one nice thing you’ve had in this otherwise miserable job and you’re not going to lose yet one more good person to your superior’s shitty attitude.

You push out a roll of receipt paper, scribble ‘Why did the espresso keep checking his watch?’ on it, and stick it in your apron. You walk over to wipe down an untouched table and, before heading back, make a little detour to drop it next to Bucky’s arm. He grabs the paper as you’re scooting away (plausible deniability in case your boss comes out) but it isn’t until you’re back behind the counter that you realize what that just looked like. Does he think you just dropped your number? He hasn’t opened it yet. Is he trying to figure out a way to let you down? You suddenly regret playing into this so much; he was just trying to be nice, he probably didn’t expect you to latch onto it so–

He opens the paper, reads it, and shoots you a little smirk. You breathe a sigh of relief and mindlessly wipe things down and rearrange well-organized creamers and straws until Bucky comes up for his customary pre-leaving refill. You’re a little disheartened it’s that time already, but it means you’re that much closer to the end of your shift, at least.

“Why?” Bucky asks quietly. It takes you a second before you remember the receipt paper and you surreptitiously check the back to see the door is closed.

“Because he was pressed for time,” you say quietly as you hand back his cup.

He chuckles. “I like it,” he says and takes a sip. “Thanks,” he adds as expected, but then he winks and you…you just stare at him as he leaves.

Should you have dropped your number?

~

A few days later, Bucky is caught off his guard and pays for it.

“What’s this?”

Bucky doesn’t get to his coffee cup fast enough and Sam snatches it and reads. “Sam,” Bucky grumbles but there it is, Sam’s eyes go wide and he turns that stare on Bucky. “Don’t look at me like that,” Bucky snaps and snatches his drink back.

“You’ve been using my jokes to hit on a dorky barista?” Sam asks and follows him across the room.

“I’ve been using jokes from the site you steal yours from to share with the nice woman who makes my coffee,” Bucky says and sits in a chair. He never stays for Sam’s group VA sessions and he should have left sooner, damn it. “I wouldn’t use yours. They’re gross.”

“Potentially inappropriate for a lady,” Sam says. Bucky opens his mouth to argue but, no, that’s exactly it, even though Sam’s tone implies something completely different from what Bucky would have said. “What’s her name?”

“Bucky?”

Steve has never been more of an actual hero to Bucky than he is right now. Right on time to walk back home with Bucky, Steve wanders in, sees the two of them, and stops. “Oh, should I…”

“Let’s g–” Bucky is immediately stopped by Sam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s got his eyes on someone,” Sam says, immediately centering himself as Bucky’s most hated arch-nemesis.

…Okay, maybe not, but if Bucky didn’t have real problems he would be.

“I do not,” Bucky grumbles, because he knows it’s pointless and Steve is immediately sitting in front of them and leaning in like he’s the last girl at the sleepover.

“Really Buck? That’s great!” Steve says. “Have you…are you going to make a move?”

“No,” Bucky says and quickly runs down the situation, hoping that it will clear things up but knowing his friends too well. Indeed, Sam and Steve share smirks before looking at him again.

“You’re a real hero,” Sam says, only partly joking.

“I hate you,” Bucky says, ducking his head down. He doesn’t really blush anymore, if he ever did, but the motion is instinctive.

“You don’t.”

“I wish I did.”

Steve grins, as does Sam, and Bucky wants to duck into a hole. Goddamn mother hens, they’re going to want to–

“Should we come by?” Sam asks and leans back in his chair. “Be real wingmen?”

“No,” Bucky says, harsher than he means to. Sam and Steve don’t look bothered– they’ve weathered worse emotional snaps than that– but they wait for him to explain and Bucky doesn’t know if he can. Because what if this is leading to something? Is he ready for that? He thinks he might like you, but would he be okay putting in the effort of getting to know you? What if he can’t handle it? What if Steve and Sam walk in and they’re all you see? Both of them are plenty distracting, and charming, while Bucky can hardly put one foot in front of the other, some days. And what if this isn’t leading to anything, you’re just nice, and it’s nice, but Sam and Steve find out and look at him with all the pity they can muster?

“I just…want to see it through. On my own. Whatever this is.” ‘Or could be’ he leaves unspoken, because hoping for anything still feels like too much.

“Okay,” Sam says first, because of course he does, but Steve nods along quickly. It’s enough to make Bucky exhale deeply and relax muscles he didn’t know he had tensed. He rolls his eyes and stands up to cover for it.

“You’ll keep us updated though, right?” Sam asks, an easy grin on his face as he lounges in the chair.

“Like I’ll be able to avoid it,” Bucky mutters, finishes his drink, and lets Sam know they’re okay by throwing the empty cup at his head.

~

The fact that you’re running out of coffee-related jokes is stressing you out. You wanted to keep on theme but too many more days of this and you’ll be scouring the internet for whatever jokes Bucky hasn’t used yet. There are some coffee-related puns, but…the ones you like carry a romantic hint to them, and you were hoping to save those in case Bucky showed any interest. So far you haven’t picked up on anything, but you’re also very oblivious, and your roommate thinks you’re an idiot and he’s obviously into you.

But he might not be.

You do what you’ve been doing since your boss snarked at you about flirting on the clock and get Bucky’s cup ready with maybe your favorite joke.

‘How did the hipster burn his tongue?

He drank his coffee before it was cool.’

And smile proudly at it. Your small handwriting is getting better– Bucky barely has to squint at it this time, and he gives you a conspirator’s smile when he slides his twenty-dollar bill across the counter at you, with the neatest print writing along the margins.

‘What do you call an alligator detective?

An investi-gator.’

It’s cute and you snicker to yourself as you gather his change and place it gently in his gloved hand. He doesn’t retreat to his corner right away, though, and shuffles in place. “I was…I just wanted to say…” But then his eyes glance to your side and his face freezes in an unfortunately familiar way. “Thank you for the coffee,” he says woodenly and raises his cup just so.

“Of course. Have a nice day,” you say as robotically as possible and watch him go. Your supervisor clears his throat pointedly and you pretend like the place isn’t as clean as it was since the last time you went around. But now you’re thinking. About how awkward Bucky looked, and how he mentioned wanting to say something…maybe…maybe he is open. To you. Potentially.

Tomorrow, you decide with a thrill of nauseating adrenaline. Tomorrow you’re going to bring it up.

~

The next day you arrive at the shop at your usual time in the pre-dawn cold only to find an extra padlock on the door and a note in the window.

You stare, dumbfounded, and read the note. You read it again. And again.

‘Out of Business.’

But nobody called you.

You immediately grab your phone and dial your supervisor’s number. When he doesn’t pick up you call it again because this cannot be real. The job was shit but it was a job, and you knew what to expect, and you’ll never see Bucky again, will you?

It takes almost half an hour for the asshole to pick up– or maybe more, as the sun is starting to show up– and upon answering, he snaps, “What?!”

“What happened?” you ask, just as unkindly.

Your boss grumbles unintelligibly but you wait. “Did you see the sign?”

“I was working yesterday; no one mentioned anything about this.”

“Corporate called last night.” He yawns loudly. “I tried to call you.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one, but your tongue gets tripped up in anger and he says, “Sorry but there’s no room at the other branches for you, your last check is in the mail,” and hangs up.

You stand there for a while, trying to blink away tears at the sudden upheaval of your life. You should have found a replacement job while you had a chance. You should have asked your co-workers where they were going. You should have given Bucky your number.

You stand there for a little while, debating spending money you shouldn’t on a nice breakfast to wallow in, when the sound of footsteps coming up behind you makes you turn around.

“Oh, Bucky,” you say and rub your face. You think you’ve managed to hold it in, but it’s chilly and any exposed skin feels frozen.

“What’s going on?” he asks and peers around you at the note.

“Um…” You gesture uselessly. “Apparently this location is no longer in business. Just found out.”

Bucky’s jaw drops. “That asshole didn’t even call you?!”

The amount of anger on your behalf startles you. Startles both of you, actually, but just as he’s about to say something you laugh and say, “At least that asshole isn’t my problem anymore.” You sigh. You have savings, and the other job, and there’s always some other crappy job waiting for someone like you. But there’s something here that won’t be, and you pull out your phone and start typing. “Um…Bucky…there’s something I wanted to say to you. But it’s hard to say.”

“Okay?” he asks. You squeeze your eyes tight, brace yourself for impending rejection, and hold out your phone.

‘I like you a latte,’ followed by your phone number, hopefully gets the point across. After a few seconds your phone buzzes and you jump and bring it back, hoping no one texted you anything terrible while Bucky was staring at your phone.

It’s a new number, and the text reads, ‘It’s hard to espresso my feelings for you.’

You look up at him and he’s smiling, mouth parted slightly, and you start smiling so hard your cheeks hurt. But it’s okay. “I only had two more coffee jokes left before that line,” you confess and save his name to his number.

“Maybe you can tell them to me over breakfast? My treat,” he says and extends his arm.

You don’t even have to think about it. “Your treat this time,” you say, and link your arm with his. “In return, I’m going to show you where to get some good coffee.”

“Oh I don’t know,” he smirks at you. “The last place had its perks.”

Lacking a good comeback, you push your face into his shoulder to muffle your laughter. He leans into you, and doesn’t pull away even when you’ve gotten under control.

It’s the beginning of a brew-tiful relationship.

[ranboo5]

Good evening my esteemed rival how do you feel about the take "even if lmanberg had been bad doomsday was still unfounded because it hadn't been the members' choice to leave it, the end of lmanberg should have had them come to the conclusion themselves that what they were hoping to bring back wasnt coming back and that as long as they remained stagnant they would never move forward healthily, instead the choice was forcibly taken from them by a group of people who insisted it was done 'for their own good' and then left them scrambling in the dust for that moment of peace again but this time without a home to return to and a hole in themselves" so i can vehemently disagree with you

-vaguepost anon

OKAY sorry for the late reply it's The Distractions but It's Time To Write Bc I am watching VODs and I m out of soup to write like fics and stuff so

"even if lmanberg had been bad" Okay I am assuming we mean L'Manberg as the model for the sense of community which is what was destroyed on Doomsday

And the reason it was destroyed was ultimately because the people that had upheld it came to that conclusion. Yeah giving up on it was prompted by the threat of Doomsday, but again at MOST GENEROUS only like 7 people were actually fighting for L'Manberg and only (again, at most generous) 5 of them ever were something like L'Manberg citizens (and that is counting Eret, Ghostbur, and Jack Manifold, so you can tell how generous I'm being rn), and at least 4 people who had been part of L'Manberg in some iteration very intentionally Did Not

Also, and this one's the important part here: even though the ideal of L'Manberg under that name was given up on + thus dissolved on Doomsday, by the time Doomsday came no one was being actually given safety materially by L'Manberg. If L'Manberg ever gave them that Moment Of Peace, that was LONG gone by the NLM era

[prurientpuddlejumper]

A Lipless Face That I Want to Marry, Ch. 7

<- Chapter 6 | Chapter 8 ->

Summary: I gave myself a stomach ache writing this one 🙃

2,961 words

Thirty-two days. Nine surgeries. Twenty blood transfusions.

Sometimes it seemed like just yesterday when everything was going right—you and Frederick were so happy together, his books were selling, your career was flourishing, and he had just asked you to marry him. Sometimes, it felt like a lifetime ago. A state of being so foreign, you wondered if it had even been real, or if you were remembering someone else’s life.

Seasons turned. Cherry blossoms were starting to bloom in the parks around Maryland, and each gust of cool wind carried with it their sweet pink fragrance. The spring air vibrated and sang with life renewed. But where you were headed, the air was stagnant, beige, and sterile.

As the automatic sliding glass doors drew you into the hospital, away from the sun, a piece of your heart withered like a flower. It sank deeper when you considered how the unhappy hours you whiled away in those sterile halls were nothing compared to what Frederick had to endure. He didn’t have the luxury of being able to leave.

Physically, he was beginning to show signs of real improvement. The pneumonia had completely cleared up, and he was starting to receive permanent transplants from the cutting-edge, lab-grown skin created from his own cells. Most of his body was still wrapped up in gauze, but a few places had only received second-degree burns, and those patches were almost back to normal. For the first time since the attack, his odds of not dying were higher than his odds of dying.

Mentally was a different story. His moods grew progressively more sour. With none of his true nemeses at hand to take out his bitterness on, that burden fell upon his nurses, doctors, and upon you—and it was beginning to weigh heavily. At first you didn’t want to see the rift that was forming, even as he cut your visiting hours short in an angry huff, and had fewer and fewer kind words for you. You shoved every fear and frustration into a box at the back of your mind so you could keep smiling. He was just in pain, you kept telling yourself. He just needed time.

You held onto the hope that as he got better, your relationship would return to what it had been before. But he was getting better, and the rift grew wider.

“We’ll still want to wait at least six months to do the procedure, until your infection risk has dropped to baseline levels for a healthy adult, but we’re putting you on the transplant waiting list now,” the doctor explained. She was one of his regular surgeons who had been with him since day one. She wore a white lab coat over blue scrubs, and hid behind a clipboard as she spoke. You liked the that she needed to use the file as a shield—it made her relatable. Always friendly, and clearly a skilled surgeon, but uncomfortable with the heavy emotional talking to patients, especially to Dr. Frederick Chilton, who was always in a bad mood, and always ready with a scathing remark.

But today he had nothing to say. No critique on the hospital’s competence. No casual observations with hidden barbs. Just a silent nod of acknowledgment before turning his head to gaze out the window at the fresh spring flowers, framed by the sea of fake ones you had bought.

Francis Dolarhyde, the Red Dragon, had bitten Frederick’s mouth with such extreme ferocity there was not enough connective muscle left to reconstruct new lips from Frederick’s own tissue. The only option for him to look normal again would be a face transplant—donated facial muscle, skin, and hair from a cadaver—although the doctor explained that the procedure was risky. After taking the transplant, Frederick would be put on immunosurpressant drugs for the rest of his life to prevent rejection, which meant every flu season, or even a coworker with a cold, could turn deadly without careful precaution. But to Frederick, it was worth the risk. He couldn’t bear spending his life being stared at. He couldn’t even stand you looking at the black hole that was his face.

Yet what the doctor explained about the procedure added weight after weight to Frederick’s chest until he felt crushed by despair.

The donated tissue had to be a very close match, or his antibodies would reject the new lips. Unlike receiving a heart or a kidney, his new skin had to be an aesthetic match as well. It could not be from too old a donor, or the skin would lack the proper elasticity. And, unfortunately, most organ donors were not comfortable donating external organs—it ruins the open-casket wake.

So, he could be waiting on a match for a very long time.

You thanked the clipboard-wielding doctor when Frederick remained sulking, not bothering to look up as she left. He adjusted himself slightly to follow a flash of movement—a bird—out the window, and winced as it tugged his unyielding scar tissue. Something tore under his armpit, but he didn’t yelp in pain—he was used to this level of it by now—but his eyes watered.

“At least you can sit up a little bit now. That’s great, isn’t it?” you said in an attempt to cheer him up.

He scoffed, and made no immediate reply.

Years, was all he kept thinking. It could take up to three years to find a match, possibly longer, the doctor said.

“Up to three years or longer,” he growled sarcastically. “She does realize that means nothing? It means any time, or never.”

“I know...”

“But thank god at least I can sit,” he spat bitterly. “A little.”

You were taken aback by his sharp rebuke and fell silent, a cavernous gulf between you though you sat right beside his bed. As you recovered from the sting, however, his words made you smile. He had always been churlish, but recently all of the spirit had been eroded away from his petty attitudes, leaving him defeated and mean. It was nice to hear his churlishness take on a spark of sarcastic sass.

“Don’t lose hope, darling,” you said in an overly-sweet patronizing cadence. “One day you’ll have enough movement back to flip her off.”

He paused, eyes flicking over to you curiously. You had been downtrodden for weeks, too, and he hadn’t expected a joke. He chuckled appreciatively. You wished the good moments lasted longer these days.

It wasn’t as though his life had ended, even if his full cosmetic recovery would take a little longer than he hoped, and even if he was bedridden for several more months. It was that sharp mind and wit that made you fall in love with him, and he still had that. He could keep you entertained for hours discussing some arcane piece of trivia or sharing lurid gossip. Since he was cut off from his normal sources of scuttlebutt, you kept him updated on all the latest rumors you’d learned over dinner with Jack Crawford—about the shitstorm he’d brought down on himself at the FBI when Will Graham went rogue, how Alana and her wife fled the country (but you heard they might be in Cuba), Freddie Lounds being sued again. He always enjoyed hearing about other people’s misfortunes, but today it just made him jealous that you’d been spending time with Jack.

“You have both recently lost a spouse. What comfort you must take in each other,” he insinuated.

“I haven’t lost you, Frederick.”

You went into that sentence thinking you were convincing him that you loved him, but as it closed, you realized you were desperate to convince yourself he wasn’t gone. The more you tried to hold him close, the more you felt him pulling away, and felt a creeping dread that even if he got better, you would lose him. Everything you tried to say to reassure him only made him feel worse, and you wondered if it was your fault. Someone more capable, more empathetic, would know the right things to say. You were a failure. He deserved more.

His professional life, too, hadn’t ended. His injury would barely be a bump in the road to his writing career if he wasn’t so stubborn and prideful. The publisher offered to send a ghostwriter to finish The Dragon Slayer, for which they greedily anticipated a significant boost in sales, considering the author’s headline-making personal involvement in the Red Dragon’s end. Frederick, however, refused to be interviewed by “some insipid amateur.” He claimed they would not understand the nuances of psychology required, and stood firm on the grounds of “artistic integrity,” but the truth was, he did not want anybody else to see him.

His face had not made it into the papers, despite several attempts by Freddie Lounds to sneak into the hospital with a hidden camera, and he did not want any more of the world than absolutely necessary to know the extent of what the Dragon had done to him. He did not want to see the shock in the writer’s eyes at seeing his disgusting lipless teeth. He did not want a stranger to see him inevitably start drooling the longer he spoke—and he hated repeating himself to people who could not understand his impaired diction.

No. Publishing The Dragon Slayer would have to wait, though the possibility of another author beating him to the punch bothered him nearly as much as his missing lips. After an entire month recuperating, he thought he would at least be able to type again, but he could barely move his gauze-mittened fingers.

The world had not forgotten him, evidenced by the occasional fan-mail the publisher forwarded to him. You would bring them in and read them—a lot of get-well-soons, and entreaties to hear his side of the Francis Dolarhyde story. A lot of them were from professionals and students in the psychiatric field, pointing out errors or suggesting contradictory theories. Those were the most fun to read, because Frederick would come alive with indignation, debating with the letter as if its sender could hear him, sometimes making you send a response, seething with superiority as he dictated.

In those brief moments, it was like having the old Frederick back. Then a nurse would come in and need to run a test, or feed him, or something else that embarrassed him back into his shell of anger. Or he would grow too animated and rip one of his grafts, and his zeal for argument would end precipitously with a scream, and a surgeon.

As you shuffled a handful of addressed envelopes and started reading through the latest batch of strangers wishing him a healthy recovery, you were struck by a thought.

“Why haven’t I met your family?”

The wind caught in his throat. His scabbed-over nostrils flared before he answered, “I doubt that is what the letter reads.”

“They never visit, even when… even when you could have died. My parents even flew in that first week, when they heard. They helped me with the flowers. Why do your fans send more condolences than your family?”

Gritting ones teeth does not come easily when ones teeth are constantly bared by default, but Frederick grit his teeth. “My mother is old. She can hardly be expected to travel.”

A plausible answer, but not the full story. His discomfort with the subject only spurred your curiosity. All the time you’d been together, you had simply accepted Frederick as an individual, with no need for a childhood backstory or a group of others sharing his features and last name to complete him. You’d gathered, in snippets, that their relationship was not the best, and were satisfied to leave it alone. But he nearly died. The nurse who asked you about his next of kin looked so confused when you had no one you could contact, and it made you feel foolish for never having asked.

“It’s just, we’re going to be married.”

“So?” he said, a hard, mocking edge to his voice.

“So, if I’m going to be part of your family, isn’t it weird that I’ve never met them?”

Instead of answering directly, he snarled, “Look somewhere else.”

“I wasn’t staring!”

“Look. Somewhere. Else.”

You huffed, and sat back in your uncomfortable plastic chair whose unpadded seat bruised your butt after countless hours, crossing your arms. The box full of anger was overstuffed. You shoved its contents down like clothing in a suitcase to squeeze one more sting of hurt inside, but it began to overflow. “I swear I don’t stare at your face any more than I used to,” you muttered aloud what was supposed to remain a thought, “but now every interaction needs to be a carefully calculated balance between not looking at you enough to feel gawked at, and not not-looking enough to make you feel like I’m averting my eyes from your horrible face.” At the word “horrible,” you wiggled your fingers and wavered your voice the way the vampire running a children’s haunted house would say the word “spooky.”

“I am sorry my suffering is so inconvenient for you,” he said in clipped, cold syllables, and you knew you’d pushed him too far.

“I’m just saying, you know I don’t care about your face. You’re acting the same way as when you got shot, and you got over that. You know I still think you’re beautiful. Can’t you give me some credit and just stop freaking out?”

Being stuck in a hospital bed with limited range of motion, he had few resources with which to express anger, but his chest rose and fell and his breath hissed like steam through his nose. “You...” he seethed. “You never care about the pain I suffer, do you? You, in your fantasy world where you accept my injuries and make it all better—you have no idea what it is like to be violated. To have your body ripped apart! It is not a thing one ‘gets over.’ Beautiful? That is rich coming from one who would not know how to tuck in a shirt without my guidance. It must be lovely in whatever quaint children’s storybook your mind inhabits, but in the real world, appearance matters. It matters to me. Your fetish does not stop every sane individual from seeing ugliness. You believe I should be delighted to have a partner who calls ugliness beauty and trivializes my grief? I should have had you analyzed years ago—my judgment was compromised by my relationship with you. I could not see. Your attachment increases with my physical deterioration. You prefer me broken.”

“That… that isn’t true! How dare—”

“You could barely tolerate me before Abel Gideon took my kidney. I was shot in the face and suddenly you professed your love. What shall it be this time? Ah, yes—marriage. You must be elated.” He rolled the words over his tongue in that distinctively upper-class way that was almost musical, yet bone-cuttingly brutal.

“Stop. This had nothing to do with it—you proposed to me!”

His eyes had been flashing with energy behind the bandages as you argued, but all the anger in them vanished like a message written in steam on a bathroom mirror. They took on a dull, blank glaze.

“Then I take it back,” he said. You wished you believed he meant the accusation. His head shifted toward you, but his dull stare seemed to look right through you to the door. “The engagement is over.”

Your throat dried up. “You don’t mean that,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

“I will not be with one who gains pleasure from my mutilation. Get out of my room. There are some amputees over in the rehabilitation ward; go explore your fetishes elsewhere.”

He couldn’t be serious, and yet there was no hint of sarcasm or hyperbole in his flat tone. He meant it. You were surprised to find that you weren’t sad. Your hands began trembling uncontrollably, the tiny convulsions working their way from your extremities to your shoulders, tightly clenching in your gut, but it wasn’t sadness. The overfilled box tore open at the seams, exploding its pressurized contents, and weeks of frustration shattered against the walls and cascaded out over the floor.

“Fine!” you stood up from the hated plastic chair so sharply it scraped across the laminate floor and tipped over backward. “I can’t put up with a second more of this, anyway! I can’t keep walking on eggshells waiting for you to snap—if this is the way it’s going to be from now on, then marrying you would be a nightmare.”

If you had seen him flinch as if your words had physically wounded him, then you might have stopped shouting. A surge of pity might have overwhelmed you, and you might have broken down sobbing. He might not have been able to go through with it, then. Seeing you blubbering with heavy, hot tears rolling down your face, he might have said he was sorry, like he wished he could have said if only he were not so much like his father.

But you were too angry to look at him, and you didn’t see him flinch.

So a moment later when your back was in the doorway, instead of I’m sorry, he said, “Keep the ring. Sell it, and get a new apartment. Do not come back.”

“Fuck you!”

[madmaddoxfuryroad]

HSMTMTS: Season 3 thoughts

So I’ve been ruminating a lot about this show today (like every other day) and I got to thinking about what they might do for season 3. Less so plot-wise (I mean season 2 is just over halfway through), but more about what musical they might do, what the cast might be, and how that could tie into the individual characters and their arcs (some more so than others, but c’est la vie).

In trying to figure out what musical they might do, I started first with the obvious: what does Disney own? I don’t think they would return to the HSM franchise (until the final season, but thoughts on that for another day), so anything related to that and other DCOMs I counted out. I also eliminated all Disney animated/princess films. I love them, don’t get me wrong, but seeing as this season they are doing BATB, I don’t think they would immediately go into another animated-film-adapted-for-broadway right after that. So at that point I wasn’t quite sure where to go. Mary Poppins was really the only other thing that came to mind and while I love the film and broadway show I just don’t think it fits the cast well slash even has enough parts to really showcase them. You have Mary and Bert. And then I guess Mr. and Mrs. Banks? Then the kids are a whole other issue. It just felt messy. So I just started thinking about broadway shows that I like, I mean if they wanted to, Disney has the money and could pay for the rights to use most shows. Then everything fell into place.

Into the Woods. I am 100% positive I am letting my bias for this show cloud my judgement, but if you stick with me, I think I can persuade you (or not, your mind is your own and I respect that). First off, Disney owns it. At least I think they do. They made the movie (RIP), so I am going to safely assume they have the rights at this point. Next, yes it contains fairytale elements, which might make you feel it’s a little too close to BATB, but it is such a deconstruction of fairytales and their tropes that I almost feel like it is an amazing follow up to a more traditional fairytale. It introduces conflict and the real world into these fantasy scenarios, which I feel goes really well with high school in general and growing up, expectations being shattered, and learning to alter your world view (I really love this play). Plus, I think it would be exciting to see this cast do a more broadway-type show. Obviously BATB is a broadway show, but I think there is a lot of reliance on knowing the film and less on the play itself. And not going to lie after Julia Lester’s rendition of “Home” last week (which I have not STOPPED listening to) it would be amazing to hear these teens tackle more broadway-style music. Which, takes me to my final point: the cast. What I love so much about Into the Woods is how it is very much an ensemble cast. Yes some roles are bigger than others, but if you have a named character, odds are it’s a fairly good role. And the whole HSMTMTS cast is so talented, I like the idea of them picking a show where it does not feel like anyone is sidelined with their part. Now the only thing left to do is cast it…

FULL disclosure. I ran into an issue early on that I ended up thinking Ashlyn was perfect for every female role and Seb was perfect for every male role. But I was eventually able to push through and cast it (in my humble opinion) pretty well. So I am just going to go off in the order that I cast them, because I think it will help explain my thought process.

THE CAST

Cinderella - Nini. Once I got over my need to hear Julia/Ashlyn sing “No One Is Alone” (loophole to this coming later), this felt like a pretty natural fit and was one of the easiest to cast. For one, I just think Olivia’s vocal range pairs very well with Cinderella’s and she could do beautifully with her songs like “On the Steps Of The Palace”. But what really got me was the way she parallels the character so perfectly. Cinderella is a character who always dreams of more but isn’t quite sure what that “more” is. And because she isn’t *quite* sure what she wants, the character is often seen grappling with indecision (see: “On The Steps Of The Palace”). Most of Act I is her being stagnant and letting the Prince take the active role. Finally in Act II she starts to get a better sense of who she is, who she wants to be, and what she doesn’t want. So this felt like it tied in really nicely with Nini’s journey and would be a great role for her, especially when…

Cinderella’s Prince - Ricky. Yes, yes I know. Ricky and Nini playing love interests? Groundbreaking. But stay with me. For one, I just like the idea of Ricky not getting the lead male role, and this part is perfect for him, regardless. The whole relationship between Cinderella and her Prince mirrors Nini and Ricky remarkably well. The way the Prince sees Cinderella as this perfect maiden who, if he could just be with her, would be the only thing he would ever want/need. But of course this isn’t realistic and isn’t how relationships work, which they both come to terms with by the end of Act II. Their break-up/parting ways scene might be my favorite in the entire play and I think it would be so great for Ricky and Nini to get to perform. In part because the conclusion of the scene is basically them both admitting that they will always love the idea of the other, even though they don’t actually work as a couple. (**I am operating on the assumption that they will have broken up in season 2 and are still broken up, but never really dealt with it). Honestly I recommend just watching the scene I will link it here (it goes from about 2:12:35-2:15:00). Plus, I could totally see there being an episode where they are trying to rehearse this scene, but it just isn’t working so Miss Jenn has both of them improv it or rewrite the lines to something that might feel more comfortable or personal. And I just see that being a really beautiful moment for the two and a chance for growth and closure. I could go on about this dynamic, but I will move on to my final point: “Agony”. First, while it is mostly a comedic song, you can take just the first verse of the song and recontextualize it really nicely as a Ricky pining kind of song, which I absolutely dig (not quitting on my Rina endgame, and you can’t make me) I mean: “If I should lose her, how shall I regain the heart she has won from me? Agony, beyond power of speech, when the one thing you want is the only thing out of your reach”. And BONUS I think we could also get a full-on version of “Agony” in all its absurdist glory with…

Rapunzel’s Prince - EJ. Well, sort of. Technically, no. BUT for the purposes of “Agony”, yes. At this point EJ will have graduated, but I don’t think he will be written out of the show, so it remains to be seen exactly what his place will be. I just think these two 100% need a song together and this is 100% that song. I could see it being something as simple as EJ is helping out with the show, the unnamed kid playing Rapunzel’s Prince is out, so they have EJ fill in. Or they have to have him go on for that kid last minute during the performance. It’s a quick, easily explainable thing that would have SUCH a great payoff.

Jack - Big Red. This was certainly one of the easier ones to cast, but my first thought was of course Seb. Jack is just a boy whose best friend is his cow and Seb radiates that energy. But I needed him for something else. Enter Big Red, the perfect Jack. For one, Big Red has a lot of that starry eyed wonderment that Jack has, that none of the other characters do. There is a purity and innocence to the way Jack sees a lot of things. That pairs nicely with Big Red. And it also opens the door for him to grow and mature more as a character. By the end of the show, Jack is in a place where is needs to transition more to adulthood and with Big Red being a senior by season 3, I think there is a lot of potential here. Also, with Big Red as Jack, I really like the character he is often paired with in scenes, but I will hold back until I get to them.

Witch - Kourtney. Yes. It is her time. One can debate over which character is the “main character” of Into the Woods, but for me it’s the Witch. And Kourtney deserves this. Did I heavily consider Ashlyn for this as well? You know I did. But I grow more and more confident in the casting of Kourtney the more I think about it. First thing’s first: the Witch belts, and I mean BELTS. Dara is such a powerhouse vocally that she would crush every moment of that; I have total faith. But the Witch also has such quiet and tender moments that people don’t think about as much, but are so necessary for the character to be effective and I think she also has that on lock. We have not seen a ton of it (so I would be eager to get more) but when she did her version of “Beauty and the Beast” she was able to find soft but strong moments in the song, and it was so lovely. Then, from a more thematic POV, the Witch is characterized as “the voice of reason”. While everyone else is running around in their fairytale dream world, she is always the one there dolling out the reality checks. And if that ain’t Kourtney. Basically, I think it is her time to get the lead and she would be amazing in this role.

Baker - Seb. Finally settled on a role for him. But really, how could it be anything else? I have felt since the first time we heard him sing (in Truth, Justice, and Songs in our Key, I think) that he was severely underused. The Baker is essentially the male lead, and he has earned it. I don’t think there’s much more that needs to be said here.

Baker’s Wife - Ashlyn. Here’s the thing: could someone else be cast as Baker’s Wife? Yes. And I am sure they would do a fine job. But the thing about this role is that you often don’t realize how fantastic it is until you see someone really great playing it. There’s heart, humor, tragedy, and so much more all wrapped into this character and I would far and away trust Julia/Ashlyn with this above all others. And Baker’s Wife gets to sing a short reprise of “No One Is Alone” so I get to win both ways. No matter how I try to cast it or rearrange characters, I keep coming back to the fact that Ashlyn is just hands down the correct choice. Plus she is one of the better options when it comes to having chemistry with Seb. And I’m not even talking about romantic chemistry, just more about the camaraderie of it, and being able to really see them as a team worth rooting for. They both have an inherent sweetness that makes you care for them, which is crucial for the show. AND this would be another opportunity for Julia Lester to flex her acting after playing VERY different roles in HSM and BATB. Basically, I don’t know when it happened, but I think I am a Julia Lester stan and I only want what is best for her and I think this is it. 

Little Red - Gina. “Didn’t see that one coming did you?” -Pietro Maximoff. And honestly same. There’s always that tough moment in casting when you’ve done the more obvious ones and then you feel sort of stuck with cast choices that weren’t really your choice. But this one really grew on me. Hopefully, I can do it justice. And I will be the first to admit Gina deserves her time to shine because I do think she is amazing. It just isn’t her time yet. It also doesn’t help that Into the Woods is one of the LEAST dance-centered shows and dance it where she really puts all others to shame. So this is where we landed. But it works. I promise. Little Red as a character is pretty naïve, but covers it up with over the top confidence. That feels pretty Gina. I love where her character has gone and all the growth she is displayed in trying to be more vulnerable. But there is still a part of me that does miss mean girl Gina and I think Little Red is a great way to get that energy without backtracking the character development. I don’t think she would be the stereotypical “bratty” Little Red, but I think she could still do something great with it. Also very similar to Jack, Little Red is one of the more innocent characters that has to grow up and face a lot of harsh realities over the course of the play. And I have no doubt Gina would nail that aspect of it, too. And speaking of Jack, Little Red has a number of scenes interacting with him and you know what that means: Gina and Big Red bonding time! I really like the idea of these roles bringing the two closer as friends. And I already head-canon that they would have a ton of fun playing with the fact that they are now Big Red and Little Red (especially since he is on the shorter side and she is on the taller side). Basically I see this as a way for them to build up a really good rapport. I am also pretty convinced that Big Red is a secret Rina shipper, and this would only add to that. And finally even though this is not a dance-heavy show at all, one place where they could add a dance is during “Hello Little Girl”. Now I will be the first to admit that this song is dicey at best, particularly for Disney. But even a scene working on the dance with just the instrumental, no lyrics, could be great. I see it as a partner dance with the wolf (I don’t know dance terms, so maybe this is super vague). And oh, wouldn’t you know it? Cinderella’s Prince is often double-cast as the wolf! (WHAT ARE THE CHANCES) Meaning the Wolf would also be good ol’ Richard Bowen. And I like the idea of getting Rina scenes of them trying to work on the dance, but Ricky is super bad a leading, and they just have fun trying to figure it out. It’s also nice that it is absolutely not a romantic dance so the two wouldn’t feel any added pressure and could just have fun with one another, and that really is when Rina is at its best (not that I would say no to a scene where Gina has to teach Ricky the BATB waltz, but I digress).

Narrator/Mysterious Man - Carlos. By process of elimination, you probably could have guessed who was next. And I know this one also feels like a weird choice but I do kind of love it. First you have the narrator, which is another one of those roles that is only as memorable as the actor playing it, which I think is right up Carlos’ alley. He is always trying to put his unique stamp on things and be memorable and he would take the narrator in a very enjoyable direction. There’s also the matter that I see Carlos as something of an assistant director with Miss Jenn, which makes him a third-party observer of the shows inherently, so it is almost a little meta that he would also end up being the narrator. Then there’s is the mysterious man. I love the idea of Carlos getting to play two very different characters, but I love it even more because the mysterious man is the father of the baker which makes for a lot of sweet moments between the two of them. Yes it might be a little weird for Seblos to be playing father and son, but there is such a vulnerability and tenderness in the moments between the two characters, particularly during “No More” that I can get over it. Because I think they are one of the few pairings on this show that could really pull that off. I just think this character would be a great way to exhibit the range of Carlos.

**BONUS ALTERNATE CASTING**

I really, really love this idea and could not fault them if this was the direction they went, but I ultimately decided against it, mostly because I felt too strongly about another character having the role BUT:

Baker’s Husband - Carlos. I just really love the idea of Seblos getting to be front and center, with their dynamic as the focal point of the show. And honestly Carlos would also do an amazing job as this character. I mean, Seb and Carlos singing “It Takes Two”? How sweet is that? This would also be a great way for the development of their relationship to get a little bit more attention, instead of a side story here and there. There is a lot that could be done with this from a story perspective and I would be here for it.

Unfortunately, then that leaves me unsure of where to put Ashlyn. She could be Jack’s mother, but that feels like such a waste of her. I mean, she would do well and she does have the lead this year, so it’s not SO terrible her having a more minor character, but it just doesn’t feel right. And I really just feel so strongly that she would be the best option for Baker’s Wife out of everyone. And it opens the door to develop the Seb and Ashlyn friendship more, which I am always here for. 

Anyway. Those are my thoughts. If you made it this far: wow and thank you!

[raspberry-starship]

Start reading the series here.

Masterlist for this book is here.

Read by scrolling up the tag here.

As soon as Sadie pulled away, Sam swooped in to give Ian a hug, too. Cas hovered behind, unsure of what else there was for him to do.

“You got taller!” Sam commented, pulling away. “What’re you, six-two now?”

“Hell yeah.” Ian smiled weakly for a moment before glancing around, “Is there, uh, somewhere else we can go? With… less people?”

“Oh, yeah, of course.” Sam nodded, ushering them into the hall. “Let me know when you’re far enough away.”

They moved to the first-floor storeroom, where they were surprised to find Mary, Jo, and Inara already gathered. The second two looked Ian over with suspicious eyes, while Mary cocked her head, a bit intrigued by the appearance of a teenager.

“Sam?” She asked delicately, “Who’s this?”

“Uh, this is my brother, Ian.” Sadie supplied, shuffling to a halt, with Ian between her and Sam.

“Ian is psychic.” Sam explained, gently guiding Ian to sit down in the nearest chair.

“E,” Sadie sat down beside her brother, “how… how did you get here, exactly?”

“I took a bus.” Ian replied, “And then I got a taxi to take me to the end of the access road.”

“Oh, uh, okay.” Sadie barely got that out before he was talking again.

“You’re not safe.” He said very seriously, turning from her to the rest of the group. “None of you are.”

“What makes you say that?” Jo crossed her arms, still looking skeptical.

“I saw it.” Ian replied very seriously.

“Saw what?” Mary asked with patience.

“The angel.” Ian said, “The one that doesn’t belong here.”

There was a moment of tense silence as all the adults shared apprehensive looks. So Michael was not as much in the rear-view mirror as they had hoped.

“He is going to come here, it’s only a matter of time.” Ian elaborated, glancing around at each of them like he thought they wouldn’t believe him.

“Michael?” A voice spoke from the doorway.

Everyone turned to see Dean standing in the doorway. His expression hardened.

Outside the Bunker, Jack was wandering around. He had an umbrella he’d borrowed from Mary covering him from the gentle but consistent drizzle, a blank look on his face as he thought. He had seen a lot in the other world—he’d gotten used to all the noise. It was so peaceful and quiet here. Somehow, it felt wrong—it felt too stagnant. There was still this ringing in his ears that wouldn’t seem to go away. Every time he tried to focus on the noise, though, it would be too distant to really make out.

Lost in his head, he meandered further and further away from the Bunker. He considered his time in the other world; he had… he had ended lives. He had exploded countless angels into clouds of dust and had been revered for it. He wondered if that had been the right thing to be rewarded for. He knew that he had saved those people from the angels, but he couldn’t help the feeling that the angels were almost all just as afraid of Michael as the humans. Jack wanted to save everyone, not just pick and choose who he got to deliver.

A twig snapped behind him. He spun on his heel and his blood froze in his veins.

“Hello, son.” Lucifer said, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Jack swallowed and shifted to face Lucifer fully.

“I think we should have a chat.” Lucifer smiled.

Jack blinked, “Are… are you real?”

“Always.”

“Sam said you’re dead.” Jack frowned, “He said Michael killed you.”

Lucifer heaved a long, dramatic sigh, “Yeah, I don’t like to speak ill of people but Sam is a big, fat liar. And he’s a bad person. And, like, freakishly tall, so…”

Jack frowned harder. “I don’t understand.”

“Sam was the one who left me behind.” Lucifer corrected.

“What?”

“Yep.” Lucifer began meandering around slowly, “I mean, I think he thought I’d be trapped over there in the ‘Giant Litter Box World’ forever—‘cause that worked so well the first time.”

Jack looked conflicted.

“I don’t blame him, though, okay?” Lucifer spoke like Jack was a kid in a movie—all over-saturated with tenderness and warmth. “I mean…” Lucifer shrugged, “For everything that I’ve done to him, I think, uh, I had it coming, you know?”

Jack’s expression softened just a tiny bit.

“And you know what?” Lucifer smiled, “I’m moving on.”

Jack thought for a moment. “But… if the rift is closed, then how are you here?”

“No. Not how.” Lucifer stepped closer, “Why.”

Jack narrowed his eyes and cocked his head, looking remarkably like Castiel. Lucifer swallowed the bitter taste of anger that caused in him and continued on.

“I’m here for you, Jack.” Lucifer continued, “Because, you know, even though the Three Amigos—Sam, Dean, and the other one—won’t admit it, you need me.”

“Why?” Jack seemed unconvinced.

“‘Cause we’re blood.” Lucifer said, “And we’re not human, no matter how much we pretend to be. See, humans are limited and fragile. And I’ll admit, they bring out the worst in me, I gotta say.”

He chuckled and Jack looked uncomfortable, making Lucifer sober up again.

“Anyways. It seems like, you know,” Lucifer shrugged with a wince, “no matter how much you try to do right around them, something always goes wrong. Follow?”

Jack’s gaze flickered away. He considered all the mistakes he'd made on Earth—all the destructions he was capable of. “I… I know.”

“Right?!” Lucifer said excitedly, “And that’s not their fault, or ours. It’s just, us and humans, we’re like oil and water. You know, sardines and strawberries. It’s just a bad combination.”

Jack contemplated this for a moment. “So, what do we do?”

“We leave.” Lucifer replied, before looking up through the canopy of leaves above them, straining to see the rest of the universe beyond the blue dome of the sky. “I mean, there’s a whole universe out there, buddy. Planets. Stars. Galaxies. Why should we stay here on Earth when we can go anywhere else? Heck, everywhere else.”

“Like…” Jack paused, “like Star Wars?”

“It’s exactly like Star Wars.” Lucifer pointed to him, getting a bit over-zealous again. “You want a lightsaber? I can make you a lightsaber. Heck, I can make you a Wookiee.”

Jack seemed intrigued by this, then he thought for a moment, his face falling. “That sounds cool, but… but no. Sam, Dean, and Castiel, they’ll miss me.”

“Yes, they will.” Lucifer nodded with exaggerated solemnity, “It’ll be hard. But you have to live your life for you, right? This is our second chance, kiddo. This is our opportunity to escape our past and our sins and start over.” He cocked his head a bit, “What do you say? Father, son… You up for an adventure, buddy?”

Jack considered all of his mistakes and all of the people he’d hurt. A fresh start? Someone to look up to who he didn’t feel like he was a disappointment to? That sounded sort of nice, right about now.

“I… I’d like that.” Jack smiled, “But there’s something I need to do first.”

Back in the Bunker, Ian had just finished re-telling his vision, leaving the room in silence.

“So…” Inara frowned, “…what you’re saying is that Michael is here, on Earth—or he will be—and he’s… he’s coming here?”

“Yes.” Ian nodded, “He’s coming to kill the ones you saved from the other world.”

“How do you—?” Dean paused and rolled his eyes at himself, “Dumb question. Alright kid, what’s your idea.”

“I figure we get all the other-worlders out of here, and somewhere safe.” Ian explained, “If we put up enough warding then they should be protected.”

“Should?” Jo quirked a brow.

“I can, um, help.” Ian’s gaze flickered away.

“You what?” Sadie cocked her head.

He gave a sheepish shrug, “Missouri has a lot of books about psychics. I’ve been reading about masking.”

“Oh.” Sam perked up, “Oh, I’ve, uh, read about that. It’s where psychic magic is used to make a—a fog around a certain area that blocks other psychic energies from penetrating—you can do that?” He directed the last part at Ian.

“I’ve, uh, been practicing.” Ian nodded.

There was a pause then Dean spoke. “Alright, so, here’s the play: Jo, Inara, Ian, you three are in charge of the refugees’ safety. We have a safe house nearby that you can use, and spray paint and whatever else you’ll need for warding the basement.”

Inara and Jo both nodded. Dean turned to Mary.

“You guys listen to my mom. She’s in charge of all of you, she calls the shots.” Dean explained, giving his mother a solemn nod.

She swallowed tensely, looking conflicted about leaving, then nodded too. “I’ll start gathering the refugees.”

“Great.” Dean took a breath as the three women rushed out of the room.

He turned from watching them go to see Ian and Sadie hugging once more. She kissed his forehead and then murmured to him to be safe. He nodded and murmured back a “you too” before scurrying off after the women. A hand gently took ahold of Sadie’s elbow.

“Sadie,” Sam breathed, garnering her attention, “I want you to go with them.”

Her eyes narrowed. Maybe it was because she was still feeling a bit tired that she got annoyed by that, but it didn’t matter. She took a breath and gently removed his hand from her.

“I’m not going there.” She said, “I’m staying here. I’m not gonna leave you to die.”

“Well, I don’t want you to die with me!” Sam hissed.

“Well, then we won’t.” She replied, straightening her shirt a bit. “I’m tired of being a sitting duck, Sam. I need to be someone Ian can look up to. I need to be a part of this, and you’re not gonna sideline me.”

With that she stormed out of the room, leaving him to blink animatedly in her wake. Cas and Dean shared a tense look, then the latter cleared his throat.

“Well, uh,” Dean shifted slightly, “that’s settled, I guess.”

Sam swallowed, still staring out the door even though she was long gone from view.