#like okay we get the typical vas that usually do these things right

[sevenines]

we got:

november 15, 12:00 PM CDT (youtube), group panel -rebecca sugar (series creator)

-susan egan (rose quartz)

-estelle (garnet)

-tom scharpling (greg)

-michaela dietz (amethyst)

-charlene yi (ruby)

november 15, 1:30 PM CDT (instagram), individual signing

-deedee magno hall (pearl)

november 18, 12:00PM CDT (youtube), group panel

-jennifer paz (lapis lazuli)

-shelby rabara (peridot)

rest are listed as 1:00PM CDT instead, could be separate or an error

-rebecca sugar (series creator)

-sarah stiles (spinel)

-grace rolek (connie)

-larissa gallagher (bluebird azurite)

-erica luttrell (sapphire)

-aj michalka (stevonnie)

-kimberly brooks (jasper)

november 18, 2:30PM CDT (instagram), individual signing -susan egan (rose quartz)

november 22, 3:00PM CDT (instagram), individual signing

-shelby rabara (peridot)

november 23, 2:00PM CDT (instagram), individual signing

-jennifer paz (lapis lazuli)

(source)

So are we going to talk about how there is a Steven Universe panel coming on November 18th or

[inconsideratekidney]

11/12/24

hey y'all,

how is it hanging? it's hanging well for me. as of rn.

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so many eyes in this world. so many always looking. to think of the psychology of your eyes, they are your information recruits. being a sighted person, you are constantly searching for clues and pieces in your visual field to put together this crazy puzzle we call life. mine seem to work in overdrive and all the time. i am sick of using my eyes. i'd like to take a damn break every so often, but they are always picking up every single aspect of my environment and i can't get them to stop or the bugs yell at me.

if i am comfortable in my environment, i've noticed it calms down, but that can take a while or the right people or environment. it's either the adhd or anxiety or something that makes me act up when there are a lot of people around and it makes me feel like i have to survey the room and take everything in. it's a habit that ruins my way of existing on a populated campus. i love when places aren't full and busy, when i can sit down in a coffee shop almost alone or when there's no one in the bathroom.

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i dont wanna be done with college. i feel like since i'm considering not pursuing my second major anymore, i could have one less year here :( its so funny that all through high school i couldn't wait for it to be over as well. in the process i want to be done with something, but i enjoy the routine. while school is so difficult, i love having roommates and friends right next door. it's crazy to think how much i've taken all of this for granted. i do take notice of everything and i appreciate everything, but now that i'm nearing the end of my 2.5 years here, its kinda wild to think that i only have 1.5 years left. all of a sudden i'm feeling so nostalgic, but just like they did in inside out 2, we gotta push that shit down for now. it's not time yet!!!! oy va voy.

next semester i might get a car and wont have these terribly frigid walks home anymore or complain of the bus system. that is, if i pay for campus parking. i won't have to borrow anyone's car anymore or feel nervy every time i drive because it's the first time i've driven in over a week. it would be kinda nice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

every time something pops up up my brain, i think about it and it changes my track of focus. normal right? i forget what i was thinking about. consequently, i often forget things later on bc i lost them before even writing them down. this happens all the time and it's pretty typical for me. but what i never understand is that looming fear that i'm always forgetting something like super important. like what if i was supposed to be pursuing some hobby or mindset and i totally forgot about it. i have so many worried thoughts like this that wrack my brain. it's different than the usual "oh i forgot my headphones at home," it's more like "wait, i wanted to be more positive," "i wanted to stop cracking my knuckles," "where did that motivation go that i had an hour ago? i swear i'm into this task i'm doing aren't i?" "when did i say i wanted to finish this by? okay and then i have to really focus on something else, but i wanted to try to hyperfocus on this? no, it was the other thing...what other thing? wait, no. i thought i remembered...i can't tell if it was important or not, it sure feels important. i won't know until something big changes and i'm not ready...oh well." that kind of fear. the kind that i have no idea how to distinguish between losing something physical or leaving something behind at home.

i hate when people say to imagine yourself in a field, or hide your intrusive thoughts or thoughts you don't need to deal with in this vault, that cannot be broken, behind this painting on this wall. like, no i cannot i'm sorry. my brain knows there's no vault, no field. how will my thoughts stay in there? no they won't. i am certain that they will roam free and forget that they were supposed to "be in a box" hell i can't even remember what intrusive thoughts are until they recur constantly and affect me later on anyway, so how could i put them aside now? once they affect me they literally take control of me and i literally cannot get my brain to change its course so i just embrace it. i've had a lot of experience trying to embrace every thought that comes into my mind. i'm curious what other people think on this tbh, but for the most part i truly believe i should own every thought i have. when i have uncomfortable or intrusive thoughts, that's typically when i look up how to get rid of them and people are like, "it's normal, you don't have to acknowledge every thought that passes through your mind." and i'm like, yes. yes, i do. i wish i didn't, but when i ignore them they rise up and eat me alive. so, yeah -_-

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

honestly i need to go to sleep, it's too late. i keep going to sleep at 1am and i never used to do that. the existential crises need to stop. i'm losing sleep and fucking up my times i go to sleep. i'm also fucking losing my mind every day from homework and a lack of free will. why can't i get a degree without doing any work, hmmmmmmm?? it's no fair. i want two degrees, but i barely can make enough effort for one. honestly, my whole major is questionable rn. idek why i'm doing what i'm doing. it's all unintelligible gibberish and sillyness in my brain. it's also the headaches that have really been pushing me over the edge lately. i think i'm going to go to sleep now, i'm doing it again. i've been pushing 2am recently, ugh.

goodnight, love y'all,

kD x(

[marcelinesghost13]

Good morning Blog,

So let's just get right into it I'm going to talk about my dad first. Over the weekend we had a number of falls and hurt his hand and possibly knee. The retirement home wanted an x-ray machine and ultrasound done. In order to check his knee and heart because they weren't too sure if you messed up his knee really bad. And I think he might have possibly have had another stroke. The reason why they think he might have had another stroke is over the week his memory has declined significantly. I definitely have noticed that change in him. They're supposed to call me Monday morning which is today. To see if they're going to have an ambulance come by and take him to the VA if they can't have those two machines come up to the retirement home. In any case he definitely needs to get checked out to make sure that he's okay. It sucks seeing my dad like this I positively hate it.

As far as the spouse goes she's doing her normal bullshit. Coming up and down I hate you I like you. Why don't you talk to me why do you hate me. The normal typical crab Plus on top of that talking shit about my dad which is normal when I have to spend a lot of attention on my dad but that can't be helped because of what has occurred to him. So for the most part I've been avoiding her negativity. She did give me a text calling me out on me using narcissistic tactics on her LoL. Which I'm not going to deny I do use them but she's a narcissist and overly controlling. Like I said before I got sick of the abuse and I wasn't going to be around it anymore. If she doesn't like it that's her problem not mine.

As far as I go a lot of different things have happened. I tried to get the heart monitor that's on my chest off because I'm having an allergic reaction to it. They did give me the option of non allergenic pads but the catch is I can't get them wet. That's not going to happen I sweat way too much when I'm at work. So I'll just keep the stupid thing on until Wednesday. Then I will rip it off my chest and mail it away. Plus I think I have a doctor's appointment with Presbyterian on Wednesday or Thursday to talk about the heart monitor. I don't really see the point of the appointment but whatever.

On my day off my order came in for "Road Trip gummy shrooms". There's Abe that come in a package and they tell you in the back like your experience by taking each gummy. Each package has eight gummies in it. I decided to say fuck it and took all eight. Boy oh boy did I get fucked up. For the first time in my life I actually had visuals. I also saw a bunch of colors which has never happened before. The normal time stopping did occur. So basically like I have no concept of time when I do shrooms 5 minutes to me is like 30 minutes in my reality when I'm high like that. I did have my spouse try to ruin my high but I just turned my phone off. I was not dealing with any kind of negativity in any way by any person as I was high on shrooms. All in all I actually had a lot of fun and it was nice to get high on shrooms again. I hadn't gotten that fucked up since I was in my twenties. I think I will definitely be doing that again.

The other exciting thing that happened is I got asked out on a date. At first I was very hesitant and this is not the first time this person has asked me out. I usually make up an excuse of why I can't go but this time I just said fuck it. We did a lot of talking and laughing. They bought me lunch at this really cute restaurant. I really liked it it was a really nice environment. Also the food was really good and they had Mountain dew. So how can you go wrong. I absolutely loved their company and we had a lot in common. We also shared a lot of the same views when it came to like different life issues or seeing life almost in the same light. And we hung out for a good amount of time. IDK the whole experience was just really nice I'm positive. Plus there's no arguing or fighting and that was the best part. I've grown so tired of going out with my spouse and it turning into this negative bullshit. The person I went out with today was just very happy and positive and cute. I definitely want to go out with them again it was it was amazing.

So because the weekend has been so insane and crazy from everything that's been happening I called into work. I was just so mentally exhausted from everything that's been happening good and bad. I get burnt out when I have to deal with a lot of my dad and a lot of my spouse at the same time. Things would be so much easier if my spouse didn't get all jelly on me because I have to pay attention to my dad because of his health issues. She just gets very negative and needy and starts talking shit about my dad it's not really necessary like I don't understand why she does that. And then I'm trying to control my emotions because of her negativity and because of what's going on with my dad. So I definitely have a roller coaster of emotions inside my head and I have to be the Rock I have to be the fucking adult. In order to deal with everything that's going on and to make sure that everything that needs to happen does happen. So because of that I called into work today I did write my doctor a note to see if she can give me a doctor's note for taking a mental health day because I was straight out burnt out. So that's everything that's been going on which is a lot I think.

102020240533

[littlepadika]

Calling Home (1) | Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You are a receptionist at the VA. Frankie Morales keeps calling. Yearning ensues...

Rating: M -> E in later chapters

Warnings: fem!reader, age gap (legal), praise kink, voice kink, discussion of addiction/PTSD/trauma, no use of y/n, no beta reader, reader is bad at Spanish, Frankie has a sexy voice 😩

Masterlist here

AN: My first fic. Pedro writers have inspired me to finally start writing again 🥺. Concept inspired by the movie RED. I hope you like it ❤️Set after triple frontier.

Chapter One

~~~~~~~~~~~

The first time he called was an ordinary Thursday.

“Veterans Affairs, how can I help you?”

You had been working at the VA office for about two weeks. Fresh out of college you felt lucky to have a job in the first place. You went to school to be a writer but your big idea for 'The Next Great American Novel' had yet to present itself. At least here you had access to the most inspiring stories and interesting people. Men and women who had seen more and done more than you probably would in your entire life. You loved talking to clients on the phone. It was weird but something about only being able to hear people’s voices excited you. You would sometimes write little stories in your head about the people you'd talk to, filling in the details that were unknown.

Your desk accessories reflected your love of books and writing. You had your growing collection of books sitting on your desk sandwiched between baby pink bookends. Next to them was a matching desk organizer filled with your favorite sparkly pens and sticky notes. You had decorated the plain cubicle walls with posters of quotes from your favorite books. You also brought your favorite candle from home. Even though you couldn’t light it you still liked to lift it to your nose once and a while and smell it between chapters. When you weren’t on the phone or scanning documents you would read. You finished To Kill A Mockingbird in your first week on the job and were now halfway through Murder on the Orient Express.

You were starting a new chapter when Frankie Morales called the first time.

You picked up the phone on the second ring already mustering your chipper 'customer service' voice. “Veterans affairs.” You stated your name. “How may I help you?”

“H-Hi. My name is Frankie- uh-Francisco Morales." A deep voice answered you. "I’m calling because I have gotten my benefits check yet. It’s been a month. I was hoping you could tell me if it got sent?”

“Okay Mr. Morales." You flipped on the computer. "Let me check. Can you spell your last name for me?”

“M-o-r-a-l-e-s”

“Okay... let's see.” You clicked on his account. You were momentarily distracted by his picture likely taken when he graduated basic if you had to guess based off the uniform. He looked sweet. Sharp nose and strong jaw balanced by kind eyes and a shy smile. You could imagine how age would continue to soften his expression making him even more handsome. The image was a strange juxtaposition to the voice you were hearing on the phone which was much deeper and rougher. His profile said he was special forces. A pilot. The rest of the information was blacked out. Something you were used to seeing on many people's accounts but even his years of service were redacted. He must have been involved in some dangerous stuff, you thought to yourself. The dates that were not redacted were mostly in Latin America. You clicked over to processing requests. “Looks like the check got sent one week ago.” You informed him.

"I'll look again but I haven't seen anything-" It sounded like he was apologizing when clearly it was not his fault.

"No no. It's probably a mistake on our end." You interrupted. With how shitty and outdated the payroll interface was you wouldn't be surprised if there was a mix up. "I’ll go ahead and let payroll know to send another."

"Great. Thanks." He replied sounding relieved. The roughness in his voice gave way to a smooth baritone.

“No problem. I'm sorry for any inconvenience it may have caused. We'll get it sent right away." You hoped he was not relying on this benefit check for anything important. While you could promise you'd fix the problem, the administration was notoriously slow. When he didn't respond you asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with today, Mr. Morales?”

“Uh-no" The roughness back in place. "Thank you." He paused before adding your name onto his thank you which made you smile. People usually never remembered your name.

“Alright. Have a nice day and thank you for your service.” You chirped before hanging up. The smile he put on your face lingered for a few minutes as you returned to your book.

The next time he called was exactly twelve days later.

“Veterans affairs” you answered, your routine greeting cut short as your eyes were still on your book.

“Hi- I’m calling because uh I still haven’t gotten my benefits check. This is Frankie Morales.”

“Oh Mr. Morales.” You recognized his voice even before he even said his name. You quickly shut your book, pushing your hair out of your face. Had you been thinking about him? No! Okay maybe you stared at his picture for a few minutes longer after he hung up. Yes, it was probably very unprofessional but you couldn't fight the curiosity. You were trying to rationalize the contrasting sharpness and softness of his features with his voice. How it all worked together. How one person's voice could change textures and colors so easily. You wondered what kind of things this man might have seen on the job. Most of the veterans you would help day to day did not have so many redacted missions and deployments. You were in the middle of Narcos season one so you immediately thought of drugs or something equally dangerous. After much pondering, you had come to the conclusion that Frankie Morales was both insanely attractive and insanely courageous. “Still no check, huh?”

“Nope.” He sighed the sound making the phone's shitty speaker crackle as you held it to your ear.

“Let me just check that it was approved...“ you found his profile again and scrolled to the status page. “Hmm... it says it was sent out last Friday after we spoke. That’s so weird...”

“Yeah. Really weird.” He echoed your frustration on the other end.

Typical payroll, you thought to yourself as you rolled your eyes. “I'll get another one sent to you right away. I'll see to it myself.” You tucked the phone under your chin and typed out a short email to Mary in payroll letting her know you'd be stopping by her office to explain the situation. You realized he hadn't hung up yet.

“Sorry for the back and forth.” You said, trying to fill the silence.

“It’s not your fault." The earlier irritation gone. "You’ve been really helpful.” His voice sounded warm and reassuring. Less gruff than it was last you spoke. Instead it was that rich baritone that you caught of glimpse of last time.

You feel your face warm at his compliment. It was this annoying reflex you had. Praise always made you blush no matter what context but it was worse when it came from a (you assume) gorgeous stranger.

“And just to verify that your address is correct- you’re on Maple Lane in Miami, Florida?”

“That’s right.” He confirmed.

“Okay. Sent!” You clicked send on the email, which caused the window to close and reveal Frankie’s profile page again. “I was curious-" You spoke before you really made the decision to speak. You didn’t want to overstep but once again your curiosity got the better of you. Honestly, you were just searching for a way to keep him on the phone. The day had been so boring.

“Your profile says you were stationed in Costa Rica.”

“For a bit.” He replied after a moment. He didn’t sound too defensive but there was definitely some tightness in his answer that made you feel bad for asking. Like you were scratching a wound.

“Did you like it? The country I mean.”

“Are you planning a trip?” He sounds a little amused.

“Yeah- well- kind of. It's more a trip in my head right now. I’d like to go there one day. It looks so beautiful.” You sighed closing your eyes trying to imagine the heat on your skin.

“It is." He agrees. "Really humid though.”

“Mm that sounds nice.” You would kill for some warm weather after such a long winter in DC.

“It was too muggy for me at times." He grumbled. "If you do go, stick to the costal areas where it’s more breezy or else you’ll just be sweating the whole time.”

“I don’t mind a little sweat” you shrugged, still thinking of the awful east coast winter you were currently suffering through. The sexual connotation of what you said hit you hard as soon as you heard the statement in its entirety. You felt your face flush again, though the man on the other end would never know.

“I’m learning Spanish!" You announced loudly trying to move the conversation past your awkwardness.

“Wow. Muy impressivo.”

“Si” you replied but after a moment you admit “I don’t really know what you said.”

Frankie laughed loudly on the other end and you couldn’t help but join in, drawing dirty looks from the elderly lady, Donna, working in the cubicle across from you. You ducked your head behind a stack of papers to avoid her glare.

“Fake it till you make it.” He chuckled.

“Maybe you should help me out.” You took on an indigent but still playful tone. “You sound better than duolingo” Your smile widened when he laughed again. His laugh was what you hoped it would be, by all your assumptions from his picture. It was an unencumbered, unburdened, rich sound with only a hit of roughness from the air behind it.

“Tell me you’re not using that dumb app to learn.” he scoffed, saying your name in an almost scolding tone.

“I’m got my thirty day streak today.” You boasted.

“You’ll be a total tourist if you go by duolingo.”

“But the owl is so cute every time I get something right!” You argued your voice taking on a more childish cadence.

“That’s how they trap you, silly girl.” He teased right back. Usually such a condescending nickname would piss you off but something about the affection behind him using it made you feel very differently. You felt warm like you were proud to be silly as long as it made him laugh.

“Then you saved me just in time, Mr. Morales.” You bit your lip. His scoffing and laughter died down on the other end.

“Frankie” He corrects you.

“Frankie…” You repeated it, smiling at how well the nick name suited the voice over the phone. Honest, sincere, and not pretentious at all. Way better than the pompous guys you know with equally stuffy names like “Edward” and “Christopher.”

“So what do you want to know?” Frankie interrupted your thoughts. “Dime”

You started asking him questions in Spanish to the best of your ability. Granted they weren't particularly probing questions. What is your name? What is your favorite color? What is your favorite animal? What's your favorite book? I am reading Gone Girl. He answered them all with patience and amusement, occasionally interrupting you to correct your pronunciation or explain what a word meant. Every time you’d repeat the word back correctly he would say something like “good” or “there you go” or “you got it”. You hated to admit that his kind words and his praise was doing something to you. You didn't even realize you were clenching your legs together unconsciously, almost in anticipation of his next correction or next answer. His low voice so sweet and encouraging against your ear, more tangible when he was speaking Spanish. You just wanted to hear more of it. Would it be this sweet in other situations? Would it get huskier or rougher? If you closed your eyes it was like he was sitting right next to you. It would be all too easy to slip into that daydream and escape the dull office.

Suddenly out of the corner of your drooping eyes you saw a flashing red light on the phone console meaning another caller was waiting.

“Shoot- i’m sorry, Frankie- I have to take this call.” You shot forward in your chair, legs uncrossing.

“Of-Of course. I should let you get back to work.” He sounded a little sad or so you hoped. You felt bad for interrupting him after you both were having so much fun. You wanted to say he could wait on hold but he killed that idea when he said, "I have work too. Technically I'm five minutes past my lunch break."

Your pout turned to a smile. He was spending his precious lunch break with you? Get a grip! you snapped at yourself.

“You’re welcome to call again if you want.” You threw out the offer in a small voice, scared you would be rejected. You peered over the cubicle wall to see if you were still being glared at. Thankfully Donna was away from her desk. Probably out for a smoke. “It’s really boring here and usually no one calls.”

“Maybe I will.” He replied and you could hear the smile behind those words. You felt your heart clench weirdly in your chest like it didn't know how to process the sudden spike in emotions.

“Bye, Frankie.” You beamed.

“Bye”

This time the smile on your face lasted for hours. Frankie’s laugh echoed around in your head, taunting you, sending your mind to the gutter. His voice went from grit to molasses on a dime. You wanted to be the one to bring out those sounds. You wanted to hear his voice bend and stretch and strain as you fucked him. What the hell is wrong with me? you screamed internally. You had never been so depraved and with a stranger no less! You clearly needed to get laid fast because this much yearning would not end well.

Frankie got the second VA check a few days later and this time he didn’t even feel bad about ripping it in half. He was already reaching for the phone to call you.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Tags: Message to be added 💕 no minors please!

[letarasstuff]

Where do you go?

(A/N): This is requested by an anon and based on this post.

Summary: How does Hotch’s daughter, who everyone goes to with their own problems, cope with her mother’s death two years later?

Warnings: Angst. Grief. Dealing with a loved one’s death

Wordcount: 2.2k

✨Masterlist✨ _____________________________

“Hey (Y/N), I really need your help with Tim. Do you have a minute for me?” (Y/N) turns around to see a boy from her science class. It’s not like she knows him that much, they occasionally team up for small projects, there is nothing more behind that.

“Uh of course. I just had my last class, so I got time for you.” She smiles and lets him, Vincent is his name she thinks, rant to her about how his boyfriend doesn’t understand his needs.

This is nothing out of the ordinary for her, to be asked for advice. She simply is a good listener and gives good tips, the best even according to people close to the teenager. The problem is her limited knowledge on relationships. “Coaches don’t play”, Hotch tells her. And he intends on keeping it that way.

“That does really suck. Did you try to talk to him about it?” (Y/N) asks the boy in front of her. Suddenly he bursts into tears, describing how he only sees breaking up as a solution. She awkwardly pats his back and says encouraging words to him. That he will make the right decision, that he shouldn’t rush it and that he has to take his time.

After Vincent, or is it Gordon, calms down he looks up at the girl. “Thank you for listening. You were a great help, (Y/N).” He hugs her and leaves.

As she looks over the parking lot she spots her father’s car. Excitedly (Y/N) walks over and gets onto the passenger seat. “Hey, I didn’t know you pick me up today”, she greets him.

“We finished the case early and I was on the way home and thought giving you a lift wouldn’t hurt. Who was that boy? Is there something I should know?” Hotch looks at her from the side. But his daughter shakes her head. “Don’t worry, he is gay. He just needed a shoulder to cry on about his ruined relationship.”

“You do know you are not the school’s therapist, don’t you? At this point your classmates should pay you.” He tries to joke about it, but as a father he is worried. Since Haley died, (Y/N) took it upon her to make sure everybody is happy, no matter at what costs.

“I know, Dad. I’m fine and Alex feels better.”

A few days later (Y/N) sits in JJ’s living room, watching the mother go from one place to the next. “Food is in the fridge, so help yourself. Henry’s bedtime is in half an hour, please make sure he goes to sleep by then. He should be easy to put down, Will made sure to tire him out earlier. All important numbers are on the fridge. Feel free to watch anything on the TV.”

The teenager volunteered to babysit Henry, giving his parents a child free evening. “Thank you, JJ. We will rock this, don’t we?” She looks down to the boy on her lap, who nods his head.

“Good. Behave for (Y/N), ok?” The mother gives her son a kiss on the head. After Will’s goodbye the couple is gone.

“Ok, how about we get real comfy on your bed and I read you a story?” Henry nods again. He takes (Y/N) by her hand to his room. As suggested they lay down on his bed.

“Which one do you want me to read to you?” But the boy looks unsure all of a sudden. “Can we just talk?” Surprised the teenager nods. “Whatever you like, champ.”

“Uh okay, do you know Mommy is a bit… much? She is like there and the next second she is here and then she isn’t here for days. I- this is sooo annoying”, Henry rants to her. He is only three, so it is kept rather simple.

“Oh man, she must be a handful, champ. But you have to keep in mind that she really loves you and in the end this is the only thing that matters. Do you love her, too?” It hurts her to talk about a mother’s love, since her own passed away over two years ago. (Y/N) still misses her. She is sure it will never go away.

“Of course I love her.” Sleepily Henry cuddles closer to (Y/N), holding his plush toy near him. After that, he falls asleep safe and sound. The teenager waits for a bit, watching him scrunching up his nose every few minutes.

The next day at the BAU a knock is heard on the Unit Chief’s door. “Come in!”

“Hey Dad, I thought a little visit wont hurt”, the daughter enters the room. Automatically a smile appears on Hotch’s face. “Also, I thought a little help from Spencer wont hurt, too”, she adds with a laugh. “Last time I checked he was in Garcia’s lair. You might have a shot finding him there”, he tips her off.

“Thank you Dad, you are the best!” Not long after this she steps into the Technical Analyst’s office and is immediately greeted by the preppy woman being anything but preppy.

“What in heaven’s name do they think I am, do you know it (Y/N)? They want me to work faster and more efficiently and expect me to be all sunshine and rainbows while looking at the most gruesome pictures ever taken on a daily basis! Un-be-lie-va-ble!” The blonde walks back and forth, gesticulating wildly.

The teenager takes her hands in an attempt to calm her down. “Sit down and tell me from the beginning what you are talking about.” This ends in Penelope raging about some superiors for an hour. When she finally calms down, it is like she wakes up. “Oh my, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to load all that up on you. You don’t need that in addition to-” She suddenly cuts herself off.

“I’m fine, really. It’ll be like any other day.” The smile the girl struggles to put on looks pained. “My sweet sweet summer child, the second anniversary of your mother’s death is not like any other day. You are still allowed to grief, you know that, right?” Penelope hugs (Y/N), cradling her close to her chest.

“I know, Penny. Thank you for reminding me. But I have to go, I need Spencer’s help with my chemistry assignment. You know, gotta keep those grades up.” With that she makes a beeline for the bullpen, leaving a stunned Technical Analyst by herself.

Since Foyet Hotch worries about his daughter. He learned many things about her coping mechanisms in the last two years: She tries to do it on her own.

In times like this the similarity between him and (Y/N) frustrates him. Aaron also tends to deal with his emotions alone, in the safe space of his own four walls. With all of his qualifications he knows it’s not healthy and he slowly learns to let his feelings loose around people he trusts, typically his team.

The difference between (Y/N) and Hotch is that he knows when he reaches his breaking point and she doesn’t about hers. So in a situation like right now being a profiler comes in handy with the job as a father.

It’s the day. The second anniversary of a mother’s death.

Hotch already planned the whole day for his two kids. At first he wakes both of them up, a luxus he seldom is able to indulge. But for today he has called into work saying he won't be coming any time before ten.

The mood around the house is suffocating. Even the little boy notices the heaviness of the day and its meaning.

“Are you ready, (Y/N)? I’m gonna drop you and Jack off at school!” Aaron shouts standing at the foot of the stairs. “I’m coming!” The answer is heard faintly.

Not long after this the Hotchner Household is on their way to the youngest’s elementary school. “Behave and remember: If you don’t feel fine it’s okay. Just tell your teachers and they will call me and I will get you, do you understand?” The father looks at his son with a certain seriousness. “Understood”, the blonde boy confirms and gives him a hug.

When he is back onto the driver’s seat, (Y/N) speaks up. “I don’t feel good about letting him to school today. What if he suddenly gets overwhelmed? I don’t think his teachers are able to calm him down.” Hotch gives his daughter a glance from the side. Jack never showed any signs of what she just described.

“They know to call me. I also told him it's all right to let them call me. He is in good hands.” It’s quiet for the next few minutes. “Dad, this is not the way to school”, the teenager tries to alert her father.

“I know. You won’t go today. I called you in sick when you were in the bathroom. I got the day planned, be ready to be surprised.”

The first thing they do is having breakfast in a little niché café. They once visited it regularly with Haley, way long before Jack was born. The two of them sit down at a booth in the corner.

“What can I get you two sweeties?” A waitress asks, her notebook ready in her hands. While the father orders their usuals, (Y/N) lets her eyes wander. So many memories at once crash onto her.

“Do you remember this one waiter, who always got you a hot cup of chocolate for free?” Aaron says after noticing her sad look. The girl begins to smile through the tears forming in her eyes. “Of course. Mom always got nearly a heart attack seeing me down it like it’s juice. I-” Her voice breaks. The tears fall down and make their way over her cheeks.

“It’s ok, you don’t have to say anything. I’m here. For anything you want or need me. Because nobody expects you to be alright, especially on this day.” He takes her hand and looks her in the eyes. (Y/N) nods, leaning against her father’s shoulder. He puts an arm on her, keeping her closer.

“I know. It’s just- It still hurts. So so badly. I feel like she still is here, but that’s just not true and that hurts me more.” Silently Hotch motions the waitress to make the order to go, while rubbing his child’s arm. Because that’s what she still is, a child.

A child that went through much, especially for her age. When (Y/N) calms down a little, they make their way back to the car.

“I thought we are going to the BAU to distract you for a while. But I can call the team and tell them we are going to do a SPA day at home or something. What do you want?”

“Can we go to them? And maybe leave earlier to do face masks at home before picking Jack up?” There is no way the father can say no to her puppy dog eyes. “Of course, Honey. Anything you want.”

As soon as the doors of the elevator open to floor six of the FBI building in Quantico, Penelope Garcia embraces (Y/N) in a big bear hug. “My sweet sweet summer child. You are so strong, I admire you. We are so happy to have you here” she whispers into the teenager's ear. “Thank you, Penny. Thank you so much.”

Over the course of the next few hours (Y/N) visits everyone’s desk. At first she goes into the lair, where mountains of cookies wait for her. Then she sits at Spencer’s desk, listening to cute facts about sloths. But Emily is quick to steal her from the genius, bribing the girl with new pictures of Sergio. Derek takes the teen from there, pushing her through the office on a desk chair with wheels. Her father is able to hear her laughs in his office, which puts a small smile on his face.

After that (Y/N) goes to JJ, who has a drawn picture from Henry for her. “Will had to write ‘best babysitter ever’ for him”, the blonde explains, pointing at the picture. The girl smiles. “Woah, I think you got a little Picasso at home. Tell him I love it.”

Her last stop is Rossi’s office. The older man looks at her with a fond smile. “Do you know that I see so much of your father and mother in you?” Confused, she glances at him.

“You are as stoic as Aaron. You are determined. But you are also caring and loving, like Haley. You are a perfect combination of both of them. Just keep that in your mind.”

As mysterious as this seems, it somehow makes (Y/N) happy. Happy to know a part of her mother is always with her.

Soon the little family departes for their home. Not long after they bid their goodbyes, Penelope receives a picture of the Unit Chief and the teenager with pink glitter masks. The father is willing to do anything to make her smile, even when this means he gets a basket of various masks the next day for teasingly reasons.

[laceymorganwrites]

Shallow love

Word count: 2,128

Pairing: Nacht x reader

Warnings: SPOILER ALERT, swearing, teeny bit of gore, insecurities, I probaby butchered his character >.< I´m so sorry, baby

A/N: NACHT APPEARS IN TODAY´S EPISODE SO OMG I HAD TO POST THIS!!!!

okay so

Nacht is my second favorite Black Clover character and yes, I am currently: freaking out. also he has Dabi´s VA so: perfection. 

I will definitely post more about him in the future! I just wanted to get this out today since it just fit so well <333 I´ll be back to regular posting in April

You didn´t think that you would ever be able to feel peace again and go back to your normal life after the attack of the Diamond kingdom.

And yet here you were, in the calm after the storm.

It was weird. Everything was in chaos, the villages and overall buildings were even more destroyed than when the eye of the midnight sun attacked.

Everything was as per usual at the Black Bull´s base, nothing out of the ordinary except for Yami forcing Nacht to stay now.

You´ve known him for a long time now, being the first member of the squad, and you never could read him. He always intrigued you.

And yet he also always made you distance yourself from him.

Nacht was the type of guy who was too blunt for his own good. You appreciated honesty, but he just always made it hurt.

You knew full well that you weren´t an innocent little lamb, but who was?

What irked you most about him was how badly he thought and spoke about his own squad, to this day you asked yourself why he even joined in the first place, he could´ve just as easily denied Yami´s order.

Sure, Yami could be persistent, but that wouldn´t stop someone like Nacht.

There had to be more to the two of them but over the years you learned that you just didn´t want to know.

Every time you approached Nacht about it he just shut you off and reminded you of all your flaws again.

Like he always did. With everyone.

Except for Asta, like everyone, he took a liking to the little guy.

Though, you had to admit Nacht seemed more open and approachable after the war. And yet you didn´t.

Instead you watched him at first reluctantly, over time without any hesitation, becoming rather friendly, talking to the rest of the squad.

In all those years you have known him you always asked yourself whether you really did. You highly doubted it.

You just couldn´t figure him out. Did he just wear a mask? Were all of his infuriating smiles for show? Was it all a game to him? What were his goals?

And why…

No. You didn´t want to think about that.

What was the point anyway? Anyone got a crush at some point, the only difference was that crushes usually didn´t last this long.

Especially if said person didn´t pay you any mind unless they were insulting you.

Nacht mostly stayed to himself, making it known he didn´t want anything to do with the rest of the squad.

Though like anyone else who stayed with them for a long amount of time, he warmed up to everyone. Still, he had his moments and didn´t exactly change his opinion. Because in his world people couldn´t change, they just didn´t.

And that made you sad.

Because deep down you just wanted him to acknowledge you, to tell you that you weren´t as bad as he thought, that you were a good person.

But at one point being around him just hurt. You cared too much, thought too much about him, it kept you awake at night.

If only you went out of your room into the kitchen where he would stay because of the same problem.

Especially since that day…

You were surrounded. Everywhere you looked you saw black, greedy eyes. The devils were everywhere and all hope seemed lost. You couldn´t rely on Asta only anymore, he already went through enough. He shouldn´t fight your battles for you just because he had strong powers, he was just a little boy.

And yet there he was, fighting ferociously, once again defeating the devil that came to slay everyone that day all those centuries ago.

It was hard to keep at least somewhat of an overview, everything seemed in shambles and the screams and cries of everyone were deafening.

You really shouldn´t be focusing on Nacht right now, now was not the time. Not that there ever was an appropriate time for that anyway.

But of course you just couldn´t help yourself, your eyes wandered to him frequently even as you told them to stop.

Though in this instance it might have not been that bad. Your eyes went wide as you realized what he was about to do, everything around you faded away, you felt numb and your body moved on its own to prevent him from going through with his plan.

“Please die with me” were the last things that left his lips that shut your brain off and made you move automatically. They weren´t uttered to you, Nacht didn´t even look in your direction, it was none of your business.

Even still you couldn´t just stand by idly and watch him die, watch one of the only chances you had at winning die, watch the man you hated to love die.

The little devil on his shoulder looked scared as your gaze met him and honestly, you could understand it all too well.

You were scared too but now wasn´t a time for fear, you needed to stop him at all costs.

“That´s the stupidest thing you ever said!” you screamed out as you were still running towards him.

Finally his head turned to you, he still had that infuriating smile on his lips, though it was so sad this time.

“It´s the only way…” he replied.

“You don´t know that! You can´t know that! You can´t just throw you life away like that, it won´t change anything! In fact it will… we will lose. We will lose so much more than just the fight, don´t you understand that? You´re not more or less important than the rest of us and you´re our vice captain, so it´s my duty to stop you from sacrificing yourself!” you said, grabbing his shoulders and frantically panting, you looked at him aghast, shocked, eyes wide and searching for something...anything in his eyes that wasn´t dull.

“Then we´re all going to die, but it´s so typical of you to be so selfish” he told you, his tone as entitled as always.

“You´re selfish too, you know that?” you whispered, averting your eyes.

“You can´t just run away from your responsibilities. It isn´t right” you stood your ground, balling your fists in anger and frustration.

“It´s the only way, why do you even try to stop me?” he sighed, looking at you. He was feeling quite frustrated now too, what were you trying to achieve? If he didn´t make this sacrifice so many more people would die, didn´t you care about them? Wasn´t it your job to protect everyone? So why were you trying to desperately to save him out of all people?

“Because I care. A lot. We all do. And yes it´s selfish, you´re right about that. We´re all selfish losers and assholes but you know what? We do it best and we´re goddamn proud not to be as picture perfect as all the others. That´s what defines us. And you don´t have to agree with that, but I´m fucking stubborn so don´t think for even a second that I´ll let you go through with your stupid plan!” you looked at him with such emotion, such passion, it made his heart ache with a foreign familiarity.

Nacht never paid you any more mind than he did the others, just thinking all of you were useless. That was why he was so surprised that someone would voluntarily want to save him.

He treated you like shit, sure it was more out of a defense mechanism cause he couldn´t bear leaving people behind, having people worry about him, he already had enough guilt to carry.

But hearing your words was like a revelation to him.

Maybe he still had a role to play in life, maybe his story wasn´t over yet and just maybe could he live his life without having to fulfill anything, but solely for himself and the ones he cared about.

Maybe it was finally time to start caring more than he was ready to admit, to take a step into the unknown and discover it with…

You.

It had always been you, he realized as he saw your desperate face, your hands on his shoulders, all dirty from fighting and yet feeling warmer than any fire ever could.

“Yes, maybe living might not be that bad” he tilted his head, smiling at you.

You felt an intense amount of relief wash over you as you gave him an exhausted smile back.

That was the first time you ever smiled at him, Nacht would never forget that moment, the moment in which you broke down his walls without even knowing it.

He would have to thank you later for that, when he fully comprehended what that meant.

Asta and you were training together again outside while the others were inside going on about their daily ruckus. Some were on missions already but some, like Asta, who were wounded and exhausted still needed to rest properly.

Though it was no use. Asta would never rest like he should unless he was knocked out.

And you tried that the first week, you each took turns but eventually you just couldn´t keep up anymore and let him train like he wanted.

Nacht also kept training with him, though he himself was new to everything going on and needed time to properly accommodate to things.

You stretched a bit, sitting down to just enjoy the sun for a moment.

“I can´t wait to go on missions again! I´m as good as new, I´m ready, I promise!” Asta beamed and showed off a bit but you only sighed.

“It´s not my call, kid” you apologized.

Asta pouted and kept training.

“You got a mission” Yami announced as he joined you outside and Asta practically jumped up and down with excitement and energy.

“Just the usual, rebuilding a town and fighting some magic beasts that escaped” he explained and Nacht slowly appeared behind him.

Asta´s eyes were beaming right now, he was excited to learn even more about the devil´s powers although he got quite the hang of it and even made a new friend.

Nacht smiled and waved at you, you just looked away as always and stood up to go back inside.

Nothing had changed anyway.

Until Yami stopped you in your tracks.

“If you get going now you´re gonna return by nightfall” he said and you nodded.

Asta sighed in frustration.

“I wanna go on a mission too!” he cried out.

“Not happening” all three of you said at the same time, shutting him up for a bit.

Both you and Nacht didn´t say anything as you made your way to the town in question.

Nacht because he didn´t know how to approach you and you because you thought there was no point in it, he wouldn´t think of you any differently.

And so you started your mission, once again fighting alongside each other and even though the task was dull Nacht´s presence gave you an energy that was unmatched, you just couldn´t help but smile.

When you were done you went deeper into the town to help the people rebuild it.

“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” he said out of the blue, making you turn around in confusion.

“Why would I go on a date with a guy who hates my guts?” you asked, making him sigh sadly.

“I´m sorry if I left that impression on you. I really don´t hate you… it´s quite the opposite actually” he explained.

“Did you just… I swear I never heard you apologize in all those years I´ve known you” you chuckled, not quite processing the second half of his statement.

“I never saw the point in it. All my life I always watched from afar, I always wanted to save people but you know, I´m just operating in the shadows. I´m good at spying and gaining information, saving people. Not so much making friends with them. I never saw it as my role. After all I lived my life for the kingdom and its people and not for myself. Why would I care if anyone liked me? In fact it would be the worst thing that could happen… death was always part of the job description and I was always willing to take that risk if it meant you could live longer. But now… ever since that day, I just want to live with you” he confessed, leaving you at a loss for words, so you did the only logical thing to you in this moment: hug him tightly.

“Of course I´d like to go on a date with you, Nacht. And I will keep protecting you” you smiled.

[ottosuricatoblog]

"Is it that obvious?"

@everyhowlmarksthedead asked : Hola, amor mío 😏 Aquí va una petición que me encantaría que escribas pARA MÍÍ. Spaniards assemble. Since we are in english territory, let's make a request. What about reader fucking in love with Chibs, practicing with Jax to ask him out. And he hear them. You know, like those movie scenes of a typical película un domingo a las cuatro de la tarde en Antena 3 de procedencia alemana 😏😂✨

Author: I just wanted to thank everyone for the feedback! I'm so glad you guys like "I don't sulk". Remember that my requests are open for Chibs, so if there's something you want me to write about, just let me know!!☺

Words: 1111 lol

Warning: language, kissing

You've known Jax since you two were 3 years old. He had always been your best friend, the one you could always count on.

You knew what SAMCRO did, you weren't an idiot, even if Jax always tried to move you away from the club. At one point, he stopped trying and finally started to let you hang out with his brothers, the ones you had heard so much about. At first you were a bit self-conscious, but when you got to know the boys you started to get along with them quickly.

One of the guys was your favorite, that's for sure. When you first met the Scotsman, you couldn't take your eyes off him. He exudes sex appeal, even when he isn't even trying to be sexy. As you got to know him, you discovered that he's also funny and very caring. God, you have the hots for him. After your last relationship, you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for anyone, at least not in a while, but you couldn't help it. Even if you didn't want to admit it, you were madly in love with Filip Telford.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

As usual, you are hanging out with Juice at the clubhouse waiting for Jax to finish off his business. You hear some motorcycles' engines and a moment after you see Chibs coming into the place followed by Tig and Jax.

You are quite sure that your love for the Scotsman isn't too obvious, considering yourself a fair actress.

In effect, Chibs doesn't have a clue about your feelings for him.

However, there is someone who isn't buying your "I'm not in love with you" face, and that someone is your best friend. Jax had caught you looking at the Scotsman with goofy eyes a couple times now, so he decides to act.

"Hey guys!" You greet the boys.

"Hi darlin'." Chibs greets back with a smile.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a sec?" Jax asks, and you know he has something up his sleeve.

"Sure." You shrug and follow him to the corridor towards his dorm.

Jax points out for you to get in the dorm and half closes the door. You wait for him to talk, your eyebrows up on your forehead.

"Something you wanna tell me?" He asks with a smug smile in his face.

"No." You shrug, realizing that you hadn't tricked your best friend and where the conversation was heading. "Is that all?" You said starting to walk towards the door.

Jax's smile widens. If he wasn't totally sure before, he sure as hell is now. "C'mon, Y/N. I know you better than I know myself." He says with confidence.

You just stand there, looking at the blond man with a death stare.

"Something to do with some Scotsman, maybe?" He keeps going.

"How do you know?" You finally give in. "Is it that obvious?"

He laughs, happy that he's gotten you to confess. "You can't keep anything from me, sweetheart. You should know that by now."

You just stare at him, arms crossed around your chest.

"How long have you been in love with Chibs, eh?" He continues. "I hadn't seen you like this since that Chris boy in high school."

Chibs, who was looking for Jax because of some phone call he had received, frozes when he hears his name.

"I..." You blush. "He's just so handsome and funny... I can't help it, Jax. He gets me everytime."

The Scotsman, listening to the conversation through the door, raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"So ask him out." Jax says. As if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Yeah sure." You reply, skeptical. "I go and ask the sexiest man I've ever met out. Just like that. Have you lost your fucking mind Jackson?" You raise your voice, frustrated. "He probably doesn't even know my name. I'm just the president's friend who is around sometimes."

"First of all," Jax starts. "I am the sexiest man you've ever met." His smug smirk is back. "And in second place, he does know your name, Y/N. He's always asking me how you're doing. I don't think I'd be wrong if I say he's crazy about you too." Jax continues, taking your hands into his. "Baby, you're gorgeous, funny and the most fucking intelligent person I know. Chibs would be a fool if he didn't want you."

You feel tears coming to your eyes, and you hug your idiot best friend. Maybe he was right, maybe you stand a chance.

In that very moment, you hear a knock on the door, and you see Chibs' head sticking out.

"Jackie boy, we need ye out. Nero just called." He says.

"Comin'". Jax kisses your cheek and winks at you, leaving you and Chibs in the room.

"Y/N." He starts. "I've got to talk to ye about something. Can ye wait 5 minutes?" He asks with that smile you love.

"Yeah, sure." You reply, smiling back.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

When Chibs returns to the dorm, you're sitting in Jax's bed, running your fingers through your hair. Chibs sighs, doubting he's ever seen something sexier.

"Hey there." He says, suddenly feeling a bit shy. "Can I sit down with ye?"

You nod nervously.

"I don't know how to start..." He says, rubbing his face. "First, promise me that ye are going to let me talk, aye? No interruptions." He turns to look at your eyes.

"Okay," you say, "no interruptions".

"Here we go..." He whispers. "I've heard what ye said about me. When ye were talking to Jackie." You open your eyes in suprise, suddenly feeling embarrassed, breaking eye contact. "Don't be embarrassed, look at me, love." He says, holding your face in his hands. "I'm crazy about ye, Y/N. Have been for a while. I just didn't think ye felt the same. Ye're so beautiful, love. I'm better when ye're around." He caresses your face with his thumbs. "Can I kiss ye?" He asks with that smile you'd do anything for.

You smile and reply to his question by kissing him passionately, running your hands through his hair.

When the kiss breaks, you can't help but whisper. "I'm so in love with you, Filip Telford." He smiles and kisses you again.

"That's lucky, darlin', cause I'm in love with ye." He smiles against your mouth.

Author: I'm just feeling like doing a smutty second part to this one, what do you guys think? Maybe Jax waking in on them?🤭🤭🤭

Taglit: @chibsytelford @everyhowlmarksthedead @bigcreatorwombatdreamer you wanna be added, just let me know💘

Second part here

[hydra-collector]

touch

AO3

Ship: Analogical

Characters: Logan Sanders, Virgil Sanders

TW: drinking mention, panic attack, food

Words: 1796

Summary: Neither Virgil nor Logan are particularly touchy people, but they become more and more comfortable with it as they grow closer.

Note: High school AU

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you consider us friends?”

“I mean, yeah, we’re sitting at the same lunch table and we’ve pretty consistently talked for like, a month. It doesn’t take too long for me to consider people friends.”

“Ah. Do you mind if we make an agreement for how we should proceed in our friendship, just to lay out some ground rules so neither of us overstep a boundary or don’t know when someone needs help? It could really be anything.”

“Oh, sure, I guess. Do I get to add on?”

“Considering friendship implies that both sides are as important as the other, I think it would be inappropriate if I didn’t let you.”

Logan began pulling out his binder, taking a piece of scrap paper from inside. He scribbled a title and the beginnings of a list.

“First thing, I would prefer if you didn’t take my glasses. Some people do it quite often as a joke, and it’s extremely irritating, especially considering I can barely see without them.”

“Okay, teach. How about… if I have a panic attack you- no, I can’t ask you to-”

“If what you’re asking is just that you’d like me to help you, I don’t see why that’s unreasonable.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

Logan tapped his pen on the table as he considered what to add next.

“You can ask me for help on your homework, but I won’t give you answers.”

“Damn it.”

“You have to learn the material, Virgil.”

“Fine. So, if either of us has a crush or something, the other person will try to give them the courage to tell them.”

“That’s fair. It’s something friends usually do, right? I don’t have very many.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“Okay, next thing. If I text you asking where you are, whether we were going to meet up or I’m simply concerned, you have to answer if you can. I had a friend at one point that didn’t respond and it turned out that they’d been getting drunk, and no one was even with them.”

“I can promise I’m not gonna get drunk.”

“Wouldn’t you appreciate someone that makes sure you didn’t get abducted or something anyway?”

“...Yeah, I guess.”

They sat there for a moment, both trying to decide what to add. Virgil looked up for a moment, seeming to think of something.

“Okay, so do you have any problems with touching?”

“Touching?”

“Yeah like, would it bother you if I tapped your shoulder to get your attention, or pulled you by the hand to get you to go somewhere, or hugged you if you have a mental breakdown or something?”

“I don’t have any particular qualms about it, but I do find it awkward if I don’t know someone very closely. Are you specifically affectionate with your friends?”

“Nah, I’m pretty much like you. I guess if it happens, it’s usually fine. Although I’d prefer it if you asked during panic attacks.”

Logan nodded, noting it at the end of the list.

“Anything else?”

“That’s it, I think.”

~~

Virgil sat beside Logan, hand holding up his chin as he neglected the bangs covering his eyes. They were set on his homework, a pencil resting in his other hand.

“I understand what I’m doing now, but I still don’t get how. Do I put this here or-”

Logan pushed Virgil’s hand to the other side of the equation, copying the number there instead.

“It doesn't go beside the va- Virgil, are you alright?”

He wore an odd expression on his face, looking between this hand and Logan.

“Oh, yeah, I’m… continue, I just zoned out for a second.””

“Okay. It doesn’t go beside the variable because…”

~~

Virgil caught up with Logan, who was seemingly heading home. He had a bit of money he’d been meaning to spend after school, and who better to share a meal with than Logan? He’d never eaten the school lunches (to be fair, neither did Virgil) but he wasn’t sure if he brought anything today, so he likely hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He usually brought lunch, or snacks at least, especially with his lectures about good eating schedules.

“Hey, Lo.”

“Hello, Virgil.”

“Wanna go get something to eat? I’m feeling particularly altruistic. Plus, nobody’s home right now so I’ll have no one to hang out with.”

“Well, I suppose I don’t have anything to do. Except homework. I always start on my homework the moment-”

Virgil rolled his eyes, grabbing Logan’s arm and bringing him to the bus stop at a jog.

“Virgil-”

“It takes you what, an hour to do your homework? You can spare a little time to hang out and chill with me. Do you go anywhere like, ever?”

Virgil dropped his arm when he realized he‘d been holding it. He busied himself by pulling out bus money.

“Plus, we can go to that cafe you told me you liked. It’ll be fun.”

“I go places, Virgil.”

“When was the last time you went somewhere that isn’t your house, my house, or school?”

“...Six weeks ago, I believe.”

“My point. Get on the bus.”

~~

“Today was awful.”

“It's only lunch, Virgil.”

Virgil put his head on his folded arms, silently hoping lunch would never end. He was pretty sure he just failed three tests and was about to fail another. He should probably employ study help from Logan, but he was so exhausted. And hungry. Aside from the tests, he’d forgotten both to eat breakfast and bring his lunch, which was probably another contributor to his awful mood.

“Are you going to eat? That usually seems to help if you’re feeling negatively.”

“Don’t have my lunch,” he mumbled through his sleeves.

“You can have mine. You told me earlier you have a test after lunch, you need it more than I do. I’m not very hungry anyway, I wasn’t even planning on eating it.”

“Oh. Are you sure?”

Logan fumbled through his bag, pulling out the box he kept it in.

“Sure.”

Virgil slid over, opening the box. He felt an arm wrap loosely around his shoulders. It wasn’t quite a hug. Virgil leaned slightly against Logan, eating quietly, unable to tear his mind off of the warmth in his chest.

~~

No, no no, not that song-

Words of death, destruction, and misery pounded at his head, trying to get in. Calming thoughts, he tried to replace them with. Think of beaches, and fluffy animals and Logan instead of-

Logan? Does Logan make you happy? Well we’re friends, friends- he doesn’t love you, he never will, not even platonically, you’re having such a fucking reaction to this-

“Virgil, can I touch you?”

Logan? Logan’s still here? Tell him yes, you need him- someone.

He managed a nod, feeling warmth cover his ears, felt Logan’s hands press them, blocking out the words. He leaned closer to the source of the warmth, burying his head as close as possible.

Is that okay? Will he hate me?

“Virgil, could you tell me about where you are and what you were just doing before this happened? Please remember where you are, the song isn’t real.”

“W-we’re in your room. I came here, because- because there wasn’t anybody home today and- and you s-said I could come talk and we- we were talking about music and we played My Chemical Romance but then they started playing that and I couldn’t breathe and I need my-”

He groped around for his backpack, digging desperately until he found his headphones. He put them on, holding them tight to his ears. Logan took his phone for him, opening YouTube because Virgil wasn’t really going to be able to use it at the moment with his hands so shaky.

“What do you want me to play?”

“Um- s-sometimes I listen to Be Calm when I have a panic attack but if you just wanna put some album on that’s fine too-”

He tried to breathe, feebly asking Logan to do the pattern, who tapped it out on his hand. He let the music consume him as it filled his ears. He leaned forward when it had been enough to calm his breathing back to normal. Logan wrapped his arms around Virgil, holding him closer than they’d ever dared to be before. Virgil barely even noticed, just glad to have something warm offering comfort. After a while, he hugged him back, feeling his body relax a little from the touch.

“Thanks, Lo.”

~~

Fuck fuck fuck-

Virgil swore he was going to tell him today. He was going to say “I like you” and then get rejected or not. Simple. If he was rejected, their relationship would go back to normal and they would forget it even happened.

Will it go back to normal? Will he think you're weird or something and stop being friends with you?

He had to tell him.

Virgil had followed him to the bathroom. He knew it was a stupid idea, but he wouldn’t do it if he waited until after lunch, and he was pretty sure no one but Logan even used the bathroom next to the lunchroom.

“Logan can I talk to you?”

“Friends typically converse, so I don’t see why not.”

Do it quick. Don’t give yourself time to overthink it.

“I, um, I get it if you don’t- I’ll just- like you.”

“...Don’t people usually interact with those they enjoy the company of? I assume you would like me, based on the amount of time we spend together.”

“Like… romantically.”

There was a pause as Virgil looked at the floor, prepared for rejection. He would've seen the blush on Logan’s face if he dared to glance up.

“Of course, I get it if you don’t feel the same, we can be friends still, or if you don’t want to be friends anymore that’s fine too-”

“Would you like to kiss me?”

Virgil finally looked up, finding that Logan had approached him, standing close before him. He felt the warmth on his cheeks and could see it darkening on Logan’s face as well.

“...Yes.”

“Then please do.”

That was the invitation he needed, barely waiting a moment to crash his lips against Logan’s, his heart somersaulting and his mind wondering if this was possible.

He couldn’t help but press harder, turning them around so Logan was pressed up against the wall. He pressed his chest closer until he wasn’t sure it could get any closer. Logan’s glasses were pushed up by Virgil’s nose, his hands reaching up towards Virgil.

“Virgil-”

“Virgil can-”

“Do you want me to stop, I’m sorry, I can stop-”

“No just- will we have to come up with a new agreement?”

Virgil laughed quietly. “Oh, I guess. What, like boyfriend rules?”

Logan leaned back towards Virgil’s lips.

“Something like that.”

[astro-break]

Thoughts on the 12th ep of Hypmic Rhyme Anima. Spoilers beware

Ep.1 | Ep.2 | Ep.3 | Ep.4 & 5 | Ep. 6 | Ep. 7 | Ep. 8 | Ep. 9 | Ep. 10 | Ep. 11

I am the definition of Fear.jpg rn please help

MTR are so cute, just celebrating their win. Look at how happy they are!

... Oh well thats new. I like how Ichijauku has a tiny bit more agency in throwing out ideas (it really shows how close her and otome trust each other) but it also completely retcons a part of hypmic lore that was established with the Drama tracks. If you’ve heard “” then you know what I’m talking about

SMILING DOPPO HOLY SHIT DOPPO

ahaha doppo i love you so much youre so adorable you deserve to be happy

MTR as a family is just soo good. Both as familial or 

Hmm.... yes Samatoki has the right to be angry but that flattens him to a good for nothing thinks first asks questions later type of thug which is absolutely not what his character is. Especially with how the anime portrays him, it seems like there's only one emotion that he feels at any moment and that is anger. Which, fair he is an angry boy, but thats just one facet of his character. He’s also logical and not that sore of a loser, seeing that he still has room to grow (if you want an anime example, refer to the previous episode where he genuinely wonders what he could have done to treat Nemu better)

I think my biggest gripe with the adaptation is the flattening of all the characters TBH. I only really see it in Samatoki since I understand his character the most but I also see hints of it with Rio, Hifumi, and Gentaro. Most of the characters are just flattened into 2D tropes and made to act those tropes out. Which, y’know is the basis of each character but the series has built upon each character so well that its kinda jarring seeing them all so flat

I’m not sayin that I hate what the Anime has done with MTC but I hate what the anime has done with MTC

I expected a “Brocon” “Siscon” fight not this. What the fuck

☆ミ＋。゜H A C K I N G ゜。＋ミ☆

ahaha Ichiro you’re too trusting and pure for your own good

Okay why does all the animation budget go to making Samatoki look hot as fuck?

Ahaha they really do get along like cats and dogs. Jyuto being the voice of reason is kinda weird tho but oh well I can live with it

Tom saying “hai warat~e!” is so cute wtf?????? Lemme pet your head please

GENTARO PICKING UP HIS HAKAMA TO RUN IS ADOARBLE HELP ME

Im getting second hand embarrassment from Ramuda lmao

Slightly suspicious about how these group of reporters know the underground layout of Chuuoku so well

Oh well see I was right to be suspicious

That Unit name is really funny considering the whole Galatic Federation thing ahahaha

Oh that english! that was super clean and enunciated really well

Good intentions, bad execution. His reasoning is a bit flawed but its at least sound

hmmm usually I’d be happy about Doppo giving Hifumi his jacket but in this context not so much. See, Doppo gave it to Hifumi mostly because they had to fight, not because there were woman (which let me remind you Hifumi is deathly afraid of and the jacket acts as a wall between him and his gynophobia)

...... uh Interesting choices of microphones for Secret Aliens. Tom’s is a recording studio mic which makes some??? but not much sense. like Tom is a street photographer, not a radio host. Iris’s mic is.... I’m sorry what is that? Some sort of keyboard and.... something. idk what it is on her finger. And T. Rex just ripped out a purple dinosaur spine, stuck a mic onto the neck and called it a day. Nice

At least their speakers are somewhat better. Iris has Iris plants which. hilarious, but also very modern looking and sleek fitting of her more tech savvy nature as a hacker Theres also phone cameras which makes sense but the butterfly imagery which is present .... Fear.jpg. Rex again just went with a T. Rex Speaker which. Thank you rex for being very predictable, we love you so much. That soundwave looks like DNA too which is cool as hell. Tom.... Idk man Tom are you okay? What exactly is your speaker? are they those aperture umbrella things that photographers use? Im so confused, photographers in the fandom please help

YOOOOOOOOO THAT RAP THOUGH IRIS SOUNDS SO PRETTY?!?!?!? Can she please sing me to sleep? its so smooth and rolling. If I had to describe it, I would say that its the type of voice that I would hope would sing the ballads that I compose, the voice of a mother who still holds on to something after loosing everything she has fought for. 

Too bad Iris doesn’t get a verse to Rap in but holy shit what? Secret Aliens just might become one of my fave divisions based off song alone

Ah theres the cancellers. Thats fun, nice to see that there isn’t an adaptation induced plot hole in this One instance. Lets see if they can patch up the other plot holes created because the anime and source material went into different places

Dice, bad. no cheating. Bad dice

Ahaha there the flash bomb. That high pitch wailing was awful though. please never do that again

Hah, typical Ichijaku. We love it

Oh look at them. Working together. How cute. I really like Rio and Saburo interactions mostly because theres so much potential

Oh noooo i worry for FP

That growl from Ichijaku though. That did things to my heart oh my god

Aww I do like that enthusiasm from Ramuda. I do hope that things turn out at least somewhat okay for him. He’ll probably suffer 

Wait why is Saburo’s left eye purple? Is it the lighting or something else? I hope its just the lighting bc if anything happens to Saburo i will be very very sad (I rewatched the episode and Saburo’s eye is blue all the way up till he gets hit by Secret Alien’s attack. Even in a brightly lit area, it looks purple... i hope it isn’t forshadowing but then again Saburo’s eye has always been a darker shade of blue so it could just be the yellowish lighting since Ichiro’s red eye looks fuchsia)

Ichijaku with an angry face is kinda hot ahaha. Her deep rolling voice of anger just. Ugh very very good. Major props to her VA for pulling it off

IM FUCKING SORRY WHAT

YOU CAN”T LEAVE US ON THAT CLIFF HANGER?!

WHAT THE FUCK

IM GOING TO GO INSANE

THAT WASN’T EVEN SATISFYING?!?!?!

WHAT THE FUCK

KING RECORDS E X P L A I N

I DEMAND AN EXPLANATION

oh there’s a 13th ep

well thank fuck for a 13th ep bc if they ended the season like that i think id actually cry lol

Ugh so I guess that next week will be the last episode. I was so prepared for today to be the last episode but its kinda surprising that they have 13, slightly different from the normal season

[misssophiachase]

Blame Taylor Swift for distracting me from my other stories (which are still being updated I promise). Eleven parts - eleven songs. Hope you like it. 

Invisible String

Famous singer Caroline Forbes returns to her hometown for a funeral and to face demons from her past, not expecting someone familiar to return and throw the confected world she's created upside down. Based off songs and lyrics from Taylor Swift's Folklore. On FF and AO3

Chapter one: the 1

Mystic Falls, VA

The large, antique mirror was always one of her favourite pieces of furniture in the house. Her mother had been an avid collector of rare, antique pieces and this was one of her most treasured finds.

Liz told her as a child that mirrors possess magical powers.

They don't lie.

Looking at herself today, Caroline knew that much was true. She barely recognised the woman staring back at her.

Her knee length, black, Chanel dress was modest but stylish and her blonde tresses were pulled back into a low chignon at the nape of her neck with a pair of simple, pearl earrings her only accessories. 

She looked every bit the grieving ex-girlfriend, her publicist had made sure of it. The problem was, only half of that statement was true. Ex-girlfriend, yes, but grieving she wasn't quite sure.

Caroline walked to the nearby bay window, looking down at the beach below.

Her large mansion sitting atop the cliffs overlooking the sea had been an impulse purchase five years earlier. She'd bought it for her mother initially. But Liz always maintained that she preferred the small house on Mulberry Drive where she'd raised Caroline and it had remained vacant ever since.

She couldn't bring herself to sell it, if anything it was a veiled reminder to the residents of Mystic Falls who she'd become and just how much some had underestimated her worth. Petty, yes, but Caroline felt it was justified all the same.

She faltered, seeing the long stretch of sand below. It always reminded her of him. The lazy summer days that passed while they played in the surf and built a myriad of sandcastles, some even taller than Caroline. He was like that, always had to be the most competitive. The best.

But also so loving and kind, his unconditional support like a warm hug that she'd craved for too long before he arrived in town. He was everything she needed and that feeling had never abated, even after all this time.

She looked away and shook her head, determined to push those particular memories deeper inside. This trip was about her ex-boyfriend, not the boy with the dimples who rescued her and what they could have had, what they could have been. Caroline repeatedly told herself that their story was destined to be captured like a snapshot in time, nothing more.

After all, some of the greatest movies of all time were never made.

He'd gone on to become one of the hottest and most sought after actors in Hollywood, his recent nomination for an Academy Award his latest accomplishment. 

Sure, she liked to pretend she didn't keep tabs on his life but that would be lying. Every time she saw him photographed in magazines and at movie premieres, his arm around the latest girlfriend, Caroline couldn't help but wish it was her.

But they'd had their chance and there was too much history between them to ever salvage what could have been.

"Caroline, you ready?" she turned to face her publicist and best friend from the doorway. "Are you sure you're going to be okay?" She nodded, her invisible mask now firmly in place, determined to hopefully get through this day unscathed and as quickly as possible.

Then she could get the hell out of Mystic Falls and never come back again.

1 week earlier...Empire Field Mile High, Denver CO

"Thanks everyone, you've been amazing, good night!" Caroline yelled into the microphone, waving at the heaving crowd for the last time.

Whether it was a small dive bar at the beginning of her career or the giant stadiums she'd graduated to, Caroline didn't think she'd ever tire of the feelings it evoked. Caroline didn't think she'd be here, let alone doing something that she loved. She'd been singing since she was a little girl sitting on her mother's lap but never thought she'd be singing her own songs for the masses.

She was discovered in one of those very dive bars at the age of nineteen. It was her first regular gig and although the clientele were either non-existent or questionable, Caroline was just grateful to have a steady job for three months.

When the handsome and immaculately dressed brunette (although she wouldn't admit that to him now) had entered the bar, looking completely out of place, she was mid-song. She could remember the cover song like it was yesterday, Breathe by Sia.

Just after her set, he'd produced one of those impressive-looking business cards before approaching her on stage. Enzo St John was his name. His demeanour was poised, his manner and unexpected British accent extremely polished.

"I'm going to make you a star."

If she wasn't so starving, desperate and facing eviction from her Santa Monica studio, Caroline probably would have scoffed at his cliched terminology. But she wasn't that much of an idiot.

And he did make her a star. As evidenced by her steady climb up the music charts, sold out concerts and complete make-over from small town girl to multiple grammy award winner and current 'it' girl if nights like this playing in Denver were anything to go by.

"You knocked it out of the park!" Enzo yelled, trying to be heard over the loud cheers from the manic crowd in Denver as she walked off stage.

"You do realise this is a football stadium, right?" She asked, taking the towel one of the stage hands had kindly provided.

"I don't understand." The way his forehead creased in utter confusion was enough to prove that very point.

"Of course he doesn't," her agent interrupted their conversation. "Enzo doesn't realise he's used a baseball metaphor because all he cares about is his beloved soccer."

"I'll pretend you didn't just commit blasphemy by calling football that dreaded word, Bennett," he huffed. "Bloody Americans."

"We love you too, Lorenzo," Caroline teased, throwing the towel she'd just used at him teasingly. "Now, what's next?"

Bonnie and Enzo looked at her mouths agape. Only Caroline Forbes, America's sweetheart, would be this hardworking. Her schedule was hectic enough but Caroline always took it in her stride and strived to do more and be better. Her mother had taught her that from a young age and she hadn't forgotten since.

"Ah, I don't know, maybe go back to the hotel and sleep, darling," Enzo responded, finally finding his voice. "This tour is only going to get crazier and you need to rest."

"Even Kat would recommend that and we all know how much she loves a good after party," Bonnie joked.

She was an agent at premiere talent company CAA and had recently come on the road for a few weeks. Caroline had met her and publicist Katherine Pierce not long after Enzo. The three were a packaged deal even if they did fight like siblings. Being an only child, Caroline actually relished in their incessant bickering.

Caroline weaved her way backstage and into her makeshift dressing room. Her finale outfit was meant to not only sparkle but also to stand out. Which was great but comfort definitely wasn't an overall factor in its design.

After an obligatory swig of Evian, she began to change. A knock at the door wasn't wholly unexpected, hence the screen she was standing behind. Usually, it was one of her personal staff needing to discuss various matters. Caroline was someone who didn't like to be alone, especially with her thoughts, so would never discourage company.

"Care," she heard her publicist call out. "You decent?"

"Come in, Kat," she said, albeit muffled by the top she was removing.

"Amazing show, as usual," she smiled, closing the door behind her. "How are you feeling?"

"Invigorated," she grinned. "Performing live is the best high anyone could ask for."

"Well, I'm glad," she began slowly,"because I have some news that I thought you should know." Caroline didn't like the sound of that, it was just like when she'd been informed her mother had passed away in the line of duty three years ago. She suddenly felt sick, holding onto the screen for some much- needed balance.

"News?"

"From your hometown," she added. "I wasn't sure if you already know but given your response I assume not."

"Just tell me," she snapped. Caroline knew it was uncalled for given she was just the messenger but there was something about the mention of Mystic Falls that had the tendency to throw her into a spin.

"I'm sorry," Kat soothed. "Your, uh, I mean, uh, Damon Salvatore has passed away."

Caroline felt the precarious sense of balance she had slowly slipping away, all the way onto the floor. It was only when Kat scooped her up and led her towards the couch that she finally processed her words.

Damon.

Dead.

"How?" She managed to bite out as Katherine force fed her some water.

"Motorcycle accident," she offered, brushing the hair from her forehead. "He collided with a vehicle on the interstate. It was instant."

Caroline closed her eyes. She'd always wondered what it would feel like to hear those words but it didn't register like she'd imagined. She'd wished so many bad things on him too many times. She thought there'd be a sense of relief or freedom.

But all she felt was nothing. Not sad, not angry, not shock or disbelief. Just nothing.

Besides Kat telling her she was "so sorry" and continuing to rub her back, the silence in the room was deafening.

"How do you, of all people, know that?" She croaked, sitting up and looking at her friend imploringly. They'd never met. Damon was nothing but a revised memory she'd concocted for her public image.

The typical small town girl with the high school sweetheart angle and her management team had eaten it up. If only it was true.

"Those rabid vultures at TMZ somehow got a hold of it, want to know if Caroline Forbes is attending his funeral in Mystic Falls."

"Well, given you just told me…"

"I know, like I said vultures," she hissed. "I'm not even going to justify their heartless request with a response. Can I get you anything, sweetie? Tissues, water, a really big bowl of chilli fries with extra ketchup?"

Caroline snuggled back into Katherine's embrace knowing exactly what she wanted. She wanted to forget, even if it was just for one night. "I need a really big bottle of tequila."

Caroline winced from the memory, thinking that tequila truly was evil and that she wouldn't be touching it again anytime soon.

Fast forward a couple of days and Caroline was here preparing for Damon's funeral. They'd only arrived late the night before so as to avoid the welcome circus. Her team had accompanied her to Mystic Falls in a show of support and she appreciated it, even if they didn't know the full story.

Given every media outlet knew about his death via TMZ, Caroline figured if she didn't go along with it then they'd know her backstory wasn't exactly what she'd sold them and that couldn't happen.

She'd worked too hard to get where she was and her past wasn't going to return and ruin that.

[deadratio]

Morning Delights/Stormy Evenings

Pairing: young Noah x Sylvie LaChance (OC)

In which the day begins warm and loving, but ends in a storm of life-changing events. 

TW: death

Word Count: 4.3k

A/N: Hey y’all! I just wanted to say thank you in advnace for reading this! I know that OC pairings in the Dark fandom are not all that common, but @nikkzwrites and I have talked extensively about our OC’s in Nikkz’s AU Origin world. I personally do not feel comfortable writing young Noah/Hanno with Elisabeth, so that’s why I do nor write for them. If you would be interested in any of the Dark characters in a reader insert type of fic, then please let me know! I’m open to suggestions as well as constructive criticism! 

Also, to clear some things up: Silja does not exist in this AU. Noah is the son of Martha and Bartosz. Regina and Aleksander no longer live in Winden. 

-Katie

A soft breath fluttered its way through her lips as her eyes opened, finding herself wrapped in sun-kissed warmth. Yellow rays mixed with orange danced on the walls, her hands meeting her tired face, the breathing behind her coming from a soft slumber, which she hoped was filled with the sweetest dreams of all. Tanned arms constricted her waist, preventing her escape to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee. She turned her body to face the still-bodied boy, his hair falling into his face, and his mouth slightly agape. A giggle filled the air as her fingers gingerly brushed the hair away, pressing her forehead to his. 

Stirring slightly at the touch of the girl next to him, Noah blinked open his eyes, being met with the hazel ones of the girl who he loved most dearly. A smile broke his stoic features, a hand moving to brush against her cheek, his fingers tangling into the edges of her hair. “Good morning, my love.” His voice was slightly hoarse from sleeping, but it’s one of the many things Sylvie loved about him. Instead of a verbal response, Sylvie pressed her lips against his tenderly, quickly pulling away before chuckling at the boy. 

“Bonjour mon amour. Comment vas-tu?” She asked him this every morning. Though he understood very little of the girl's native language, she always greeted him by asking how he was. He found the little things of their morning routine to be some of the most special because Sylvie was usually busy writing her thesis for university. “I’m always my best when I wake up next to you.” He responds, pressing another kiss to her lips. Pulling him to her, Sylvie kissed him back passionately, smiling against his lips before breaking the kiss, running her hand over his face. “I’m glad you’re so well. We should get out of bed, we have to be at your mom’s house by two today.” She stated, a soft glance moving his way. Her smile was still soft, her hands moving to detach his arms from around her. Pouting, Noah leaned back onto the pillows, his arms resting behind his head. Though he loved his family, he did find them to be a bit overbearing when it came to his relationship with Sylvie. That would always ask the most personal questions, when was he going to propose, when were the grandkids going to come, the ones they find the most important. It had been two years since she showed up to his cousin’s birthday party slash aunt and uncle’s wedding anniversary party, and had taken his breath away the minute he laid his eyes on her. 

She had already moved from the bed, her shirt riding up as she stood, arms stretched high into the air and towards the ceiling. Turning to face her beloved boyfriend, Sylvie let out a soft laugh, looking down at him. “If you don’t get out of the bed, I’ll only make my coffee and toast.” Teasing, she moved towards the door of the bedroom, only turning to look back at him as she turned the knob. Groaning playfully, Noah rose from the bed, picking up his discarded shirt from the night before, finding that both the covers of the bed and the body heat of his dearest love to be rather overwhelming. Bare feet padding against the wooden floors, he followed the girl down the hallway and descended the staircase, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he went.

Shuffling into the kitchen, Sylvie began to make the coffee, also grabbing the sourdough loaf off of the microwave along her way. A soft sigh could be heard from the taller of the two as he opened the front door to find the newspaper laying on their front step. Though he didn’t read the paper in full, Noah still found it the easiest way to keep track of what was going on in their small town of Winden. The wafting smell of fresh coffee filled his nostrils as he closed the door, stepping slowly towards the kitchen, leaning against the archway. He watched her movements. This has become a daily routine for them; wake up, eat breakfast, get ready, and do what needs to get done. Though they deferred their decisions sometimes, Sylvie enjoyed having a typical set of activities to do before she had to bear her eyes on the computer monitor for the majority of the day. 

Turning to find him looking at her, Sylvie felt a slight heat rush to the cores of her cheeks, turning back to face the slow-burning coffee pot. Soon after, comforting arms wrapped around her waist, rubbing soft circles into her sides. “I love you.” a tender whisper filled her ears, chills running their way down her spine. In all her years of living, he had been the only person able to make her feel so warm and giddy. Anybody she had dated in the past had been cold-blooded and reckless towards her. Spinning around in his embrace, a wide smile graced her features before she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. 

Just as he went to kiss her back, the coffee pot shrieked with its cruel tone, signifying that it had finally finished brewing the steaming black liquid. Though he preferred his without any additions, Sylvie typically added sugar and cream. Noah blames it on how sweet she is, but she brushes it off unless she’s in a particularly playful mood. Pouring two mugs, Sylvie hands one to Noah, careful not to spill any on his bare feet. She’s done it before, and she surely does not want to go to urgent care early in the morning again. Thanking his girlfriend, Noah takes his seat at the kitchen bar, watching the dark-haired girl as she, what he would say “dumped,” sugar and cream into the steaming ceramic cylinder. Facing Noah, Sylvie let out a chuckle, pulling the chair next to him out as so to sit next to him. Moving her free hand to his, she gripped his hand tightly. Though it felt like a normal weekend morning to her, she also had a haunting feeling in the back of her head. She typically ignored this and brushed it off as anxiety for the upcoming day, but this time it felt different, eternal, almost. 

_________

A few hours had passed since the two young adults had finished their coffee and started to unpack the day ahead. Noah’s grandmother and grandfather, Regina and Aleksander, were visiting from America for the next couple of weeks. Sylvie had only been introduced to them over a video call, which was nice, but she was excited to meet them in person. Regina and Aleksander adored Noah and therefore were very adoring of Sylvie, who had brought light into his life. Black strands of hair flew amongst her face as she brushed her hair, attempting to style it more neatly than she normally would. Through her excitement, Sylvie was rather nervous to meet the two elders. Though she had already met the rest of the Tiedemann’s long ago, she still valued Noah’s love for his grandparents and did not want to disappoint the two on their return to their hometown. 

Spending another fifteen minutes on her hair, Sylvie was finally satisfied with the simple braid she had put it in. Noah moved in the doorway, pressing a kiss to her temple while preparing to take a shower himself. A gentle smile sat upon the girl's features as she closed the bathroom door, stepping into the closet to decide on an outfit for the occasion. Though she wouldn’t consider her wardrobe to be all that special, she still valued her appearance and kept certain items for times such as these. Sticking out to her particularly was a deep forest green top, tiny polka dots freckled throughout the pattern. The sleeves were wide and almost whimsical, the bottom cinched at the waist and flaring out again. Setting the blouse on the tousled blankets of the bed, she moved to the dresser to select a pair of pants. She knew jeans would likely be okay with the Tiedemann’s, but her desire to please the two in-person won her over as she selected a pair of cropped black trousers. She knew she had a pair of flat, suede sandals that would go perfectly with the two items. 

In the process of changing clothes, Noah stepped out of the bathroom, a towel wrangling with his sopping wet hair. Having changed into clean clothes right out of the shower, he was more ready than Sylvie was. He hadn’t hugged his grandmother in years and missed the long, thoughtful conversations he shared with his grandfather. Sylvie looked up at him from her position on the corner of the bed, one shoe strapped, the other sitting next to her feet. A wide grin exposed itself to the boy, who returned his own. Slipping on the other shoe, Sylvie stood from the bed, straightening out her shirt. “Are you ready?” The question was filled with both concern and excitement. Walking over to stand next to her, he grabbed her hand, intertwining their fingers together. “I’m always ready with you by my side, my love,” A playful laugh ended the sentence as he leaned to place a kiss upon her lips once more. “I must fix my hair though, my grandmother would have a fit if I showed up to the house without at least combing my hair.” He chuckled, moving towards the dresser. He thought back to when he was just a young boy and his grandmother would come over to fix lunch occasionally, her fingers parting through his hair just as the heat of the day reached its peak. He missed her tender touch and her gentle words of reassurance. 

_______________________

Standing at the kitchen sink, Bartosz peered through the window. The sun bore down on the trees surrounding the Tiedemann household, the leaves dancing in the light breeze. Today his mother and father would return from America to visit the family for two weeks, the first time in nearly five years. With both of the kids out of the house, it had become alarmingly quiet as Martha had been busy with the school and preparing for the coming months. The scruff along his chin had not bothered him for what seemed like decades at this point, but he knew his mother and decidedly made his way towards his and Martha’s shared bedroom to make himself more presentable. He feared the tension between his mother and his wife. Ever since Agnes had been born, admittedly out of wedlock, Regina had been rather brash towards the former Nielsen girl. He hoped that the day would go on without issue, though lingering in the back of his consciousness was a deep dark shadow. It was eerily detached from him, leaving a lingering trail in the distance. He shrugged it off as his nerves had got to him as he prepared himself for the day.

______________________

  The time had finally come for the two young adults to make their way to the Tiedemann home. Sylvie pressed a kiss to Noah’s cheek before running to the front door of the house, a playful smile breaking through her lips as she looked back at him. Their shared coupe sat in the yard, sleek and toned. Noah, amused by his girlfriend’s antics, closed the locked door behind him, running just past her to open the car door for her, laughing. Closing the door behind her, he headed to the driver’s side, sliding in next to Sylvie. Her green-toned eyes were lit with excitement, but he knew that behind them, the feeling of butterflies and anxiety were mixing into it. The engine revved up as he started the car, a soft musical tone filling the cabin from the previous drive. Putting the car into drive, Noah and Sylvie made their way to the other side of Winden. _______________________

Pulling up to the curb, Sylvie could see multiple cars in the Tiedemann’s driveway. She knew that Annalise and Jonas would also be there, maybe even Jonah and Michelle. Taking a deep breath, she watched as Noah walked around the front of the car to open her door, his veined hand gently encompassing her own. Twisting her legs, she stepped out of the car, smiling at Noah. His fingers tangled themselves with her own as they made their way to the front door together. His lips pressed against her hair before he knocked on the door. Appearing almost immediately in the doorway was Martha, a pleasant smile adorning her features. She first moved to hug her son, a kiss landing upon his cheek before she turned to Sylvie. Sylvie returned an eager smile to the woman she had come to admire dearly, her arms wrapping around her shoulders tightly. “Come in! Annalise brought us some hors d'oeuvres to enjoy while we all visit!” She exclaimed, moving back into the house. Noah let Sylvie step in first, following closely behind her. Martha, looking back at her son, smirked while following the couple, soon taking her place next to Bartosz. 

 The first person Sylvie saw in the large gathering space was Annalise, who joyfully waved at the two. Jonas acknowledged them with a smile and a nod. Standing next to Bartosz, Sylvie was able to recognize the red-haired woman as Regina. Attached to her shoulder was a man who she immediately assumed was Aleksander. His grey hair and slight scruff was a signature Tiedemann look amongst the older men. Bartosz was not quite there, with strands of grey peeking through the brown locks atop his head. A wide smile was set on Sylvie’s face as Martha announced their presence, both of the oldest Tiedemann’s turning to greet their grandson and his girlfriend. Regina, overwhelmed with excitement, rushed over to the two, embracing her youngest grandchild into a near bone-crushing hug. A giggle was heard from Sylvie, Aleksander approaching her in greeting, his hand jutting out to shake hers. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Miss. Sylvie.” He said, his mellow voice welcoming to the girl. Her hand molded with his, a firm shake swinging their arms in sync. “It’s such a pleasure, Aleksander. I have been looking forward to this for so long!” The excitement was evident, in her voice. Before Aleksander could reply, Regina had already made her way to Sylvie. One would think that the woman’s cheek would break from the big smile on her face. 

“Sylvie! My darling! I am overjoyed to finally meet you in person!” A laugh erupted from Sylvie’s throat, Noah leaning slightly closer to her. Regina squeezed her shoulders, Sylvie’s arms gently grasping her back. Pulling away, the two moved back towards their respective partners. Noah and Sylvie joined the others in the lounge, sitting directly next to Annalise and Jonas. Annalise, eager to see the two again even though she had seen them mere days prior, hugged Sylvie from the side. Sylvie leaned into her, watching Bartosz set the hors d'oeuvres onto the coffee table in the middle of the room. Thus began the afternoon and evening of many laughs, stories, and embarrassing moments between the eight of them. 

The day turned into evening seemingly quickly, the whole family chattering away. Sylvie, having enjoyed herself so far, excused herself to the bathroom. Noah squeezed her hand lightly as she stood, her gaze meeting his, a gentle smile etching its way into her face. Moving through the legs of the others, she made her way down the hall, pulling her phone from her back pocket. She had put it on “Do Not Disturb,’ having found it disrespectful to not only Noah’s parents but also his grandparents had she pulled it out in front of them. Clicking on the screen, she found multiple missed calls from her family, as well as nearly thirty text messages mostly from her aunt. This was immediately a red flag for Sylvie. The darkness that had encompassed her being early this morning returned to claim it’s stake. Moving further towards the back of the house, Sylvie changed her settings and found her mother’s contact, pressing the call button. Anxiety gnawed at her stomach and chest. Her aunt never called or texted her. Her mother had cut her off a few years ago due to a disagreement regarding a family matter. 

The phone was pressed to her ear now, her fingers on her free hand clenching and unclenching. The phone went to voicemail, which she found more outrageously weird than her aunt texting her. Her mother always picked up the phone. Hands shaking now, Sylvie leaned her head back, taking a few deep breaths before calling her mother again. Waiting, it rang three times before being picked up, the voice on the end was not the one that belonged to her mother. “Sylvie! Oh, thank god! Why haven’t you been picking up your phone?” The question was full of concern, anger, and subsequently, unrecognizable sorrow. Swallowing her fear, Sylvie pressed, “Who is this? Why are you answering my mother’s phone?” 

“Sylvie, it’s your aunt Odette…” There was a silence on her end, Sylvie was gritting her teeth now. “Odette, why do you have my mother's phone? She hasn’t spoken to you since Papa passed away.” Sylvie wanted to interrogate the woman, but she was more concerned with the extremely odd situation at hand. 

“Dear, I do hate to be the one to inform you, but your mother was in an accident this afternoon.” Sylvie’s stomach dropped to her feet hearing these words, her heart beginning to race. She didn’t know what to say. How to ask “Is my mom okay?” Or worse. “Sylvie?” Odette’s voice shook the girl from her numb state of mind. “Odette. Tell me everything you know. I need to know immediately.” She ordered the woman on the other end of the phone. Her body was becoming hotter with each passing second, a rush of emotions overwhelmed the girl. 

“Sylvie...she didn’t make it…” Sylvie’s jaw was agape, pure terror filling the veins in her body with a stiff coldness like no other. She could not fathom the thought, or even the existence, that her mother was dead. A muttered “I will be there soon” was all she could muster before hanging up the phone. Heavy tears began their journey through her tear ducts, spilling over onto her pale cheeks. She didn’t want to go back out to Noah and his family this way, but she had no choice but to do so. She had to get to France as soon as she could. A sob wracked its way through her body, her throat caught in the pain of the loss. Her hand cupped her face, her eyes twisted shut. Her jaw shuddered with another sob, her breathing ragged. Before she could fully reason with herself to take herself back to Noah, her anchor, she heard footsteps down the hallway. Her face had become blush-toned, her hands still shaking. Looking up through the flood of tears, she saw Noah. 

Noah, concerned that Sylvie hasn't returned from the bathroom, made his way towards the back of the house. Martha also asked him to bring fresh water to the table on his way back. He had placed the pitcher on the kitchen counter, making Sylvie a priority since she had been gone for longer than ten minutes. Turning the corner towards the dining room, Noah was shocked to find the love of his life sobbing, tears dripping from her chin onto the wooden floors. Panicked, he rushed over to her, his arms embracing her immediately. He could feel her body shake with each sob, his shoulder becoming wet with her tears. Tangling his fingers in her dark locks, he whispered to her, “What’s happened, my love? Why are you so upset?” His voice was soft in her ear, only a slight comfort. 

Shaking her head almost violently, Sylvie stuttered her words, barely willing, or able, to say the words out loud. Her fingers grasped the chambray fabric of his shirt as if her life depended on it, her forehead buried deep into his shoulder. Noah hadn’t met her mother, but he knew how close her and Sylvie’s bond was. She had grown up with her alone for nearly the entirety of her life until she met her father several years ago. Noah, concerned for his love and her wellbeing, proceeded to maneuver her towards the scarred dining chair, much like he expected her heart to be at this moment. Pulling out the chair, he gently placed her upon it, his hand moving to caress her cheek. He brought another chair in front of her, taking a seat in front of her. Knee to knee, he pulled her closer to him, his hands rubbing soft circles into her shoulders. Her sobs were quieter now, the tears continuing to streak their way onto her skin.  Her breathing was more rhythmic now than when he had first found her, though he knew on the inside she was torn into pieces. Though she saw Martha as a mother figure, you cannot replace the love a biological mother and daughter have. 

Martha had also excused herself from the gathering, stepping into the kitchen to find the water pitcher on the counter, unfilled. Finding this rather odd, she filled it herself and took it back to the others. Annalise, looking up from her spot, asked the woman, “Where are those two? Surely they cannot be canoodling at a family gathering? The only people I’ve known to do that are you and Bartosz!” Martha, taken slightly aback by this, stifled a laugh and shook her head. “Annalise, they are more respectable than that. I’ll go to find them. Also, it was only once!” She stated, turning back to walk towards the other end of the house. She shook her head at her dearest friend, a wide smile pinching the corners of her lips.

Noah whispered soft affirmations into Sylvie’s ear, promising that they would immediately pack and leave for France the moment they arrived home. The girl had moved to be sitting in his lap now, her legs scrunched up atop his thighs. He had begun to rub circles on her hips as he held her close to him, becoming silent. The only sound was their breath leaving their bodies until scuffled footsteps could be heard. Opening his eyes to find his mother standing in the entryway, a sad look glazed itself throughout his features. Martha, confused and concerned, approached the two slowly. Noah, whispering to Sylvie, set her feet back onto the ground, moving her to sit in the chair he had previously occupied. “I’ll be just a moment, love.” He whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Nodding, Sylvie looked up at him before glancing over to Martha. Seeing her made her chest tighten, threatening to spill more tears. 

Grasping his mother’s hand tenderly, Noah guided her to the pantry next to the dining room, closing the door behind them. Turning the light on, Noah faced his mother. “Noah, what’s happened? Why is Sylvie crying so?” She questioned, a frown replacing the smile she had worn on her way to find the two. Noah, sighing deeply ran his hand down his jaw, biting his bottom lip.

“I believe that her aunt has just called her,” He started, the tears beginning to well in his eyes as well. “Her mother was in an accident back in France. She didn’t make it,” He looked at his mother, his chin trembling. Martha gasped, her hand reaching for her son’s shoulder. He leaned into her touch, the tears making their trek down his face. “We must leave at once for France. I hate to cut our visit with grandma and grandpa short, but Sylvie means the world to me. Not being there with her in her time of need would be negligent of me.” Nodding, Martha understood his reasons for needing to leave. Pulling him into a tight hug, she kissed his cheek. 

“Well, don’t keep her waiting. We will be here for you both when you get back, Please send our condolences to her and her family. She’s like a daughter to me, you know that. I love you both dearly.” Noah cracked a small smile at his mother’s words, squeezing her shoulders before turning to open the pantry door. Walking back to Sylvie, he crouched down, his hand gently taking hers in his. 

“Mama said we could go. I’ll carry you to the car.” Sylvie nodded, her arms already moving to secure her reach around his neck. Slipping his arms under her knees, Noah lifted the girl from the chair, his mother watching them from the doorway of the pantry. A sad smile made its way through her features, following close behind them. Slowly stepping into the living area of the house, Noah glanced over at his family, the same sad smile of Martha’s etched over his face. Annalise, shocked at the situation, stood almost immediately. The rest of the family followed suit, Martha walking towards them. Before Annalise could move to ask the young couple what the matter was, Martha gently grasped her wrist, shaking her head. Together, the six of them watched the two exit the house and make their way towards their car.

Looking at Martha, Annalise began, “Martha! What happened to the poor girl?!” Martha’s eyes could have told the whole story, but she obliged the woman, as well as the others in the room. “Her mother passed away. They are going to France immediately.” Martha’s lip began to tremble as Bartosz gripped his wife’s shoulder. Annalise, shocked, grabbed onto Jonas’ shirt, looking up at him. The three couples moved to the window to watch the two slip away into the car, pulling from the curb. She leaned into Bartosz, fear for her son’s love digging its way through her chest and stomach. She couldn’t imagine or even fathom the pain Sylvie was going through. Though things were changing for her son, and undoubtedly Sylvie, Martha could only hope that the two of them would make it through this, and come back with a new lease on life. 

[tonysttank]

Fine Line Series |b.b.| Prologue

I haven’t posted writing on here in ages, and I’ve been planning to write this series for a while now. I have this planned as a 12 part series, not including this prologue. Hopefully you all enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it!

Constructive and/or general feedback is always welcome!

Bucky Barnes x female reader

Summary: Sam Wilson’s adopted sister thought she finally had everything the way she wanted it after he left D.C. to help Captain America. Little did she know that her world was about to get turned upside down when she is forced to move out of the country for her own protection. But maybe living in this new place wouldn’t be so bad...

Word Count: 1.5k

Prologue

It had been a strange few years for everyone, but especially Y/N and Sam. It was almost as bad as when he was on tour over seas… Sam Wilson and Y/N had been attached at the hip since, well, forever. The girl was raised in his household. Y/N’s parents weren’t the best by any means. In fact, they were pretty shitty, if she was being honest. Her mother had left her and her father when she was still in diapers, and the only memories she had of her father were him coming after her in a drunken rage. She ran away for days at a time fairly often, but he never really noticed. She’d spent many nights on the streets, stealing food and sleeping under porches just to get away from him, all before the age of 9. That’s how Sam had found her. She had snuck under the Wilson’s porch, and was munching on a stolen bag of chips. It was pouring rain and she was absolutely drenched and freezing.

“Is someone there?” The young boy, aged about 13 at the time, had asked, his footsteps stalling on the stairs when he heard the rustling of the bag of chips. Y/N froze, and hoped he would just go away. A few moments later, Sam was on his belly, poking his head underneath the steps. “Who are you?” He asked, an eyebrow quirked in confusion.

Y/N didn’t say anything… She didn’t know what to say.

“Oh! I know you! You’ go to West Elementary. I’ve seen you on the bus...” Sam said, his voice slightly prideful as he had recognized the girl. “Why are you all wet and eating chips under my porch like a mouse?”

Y/N stuttered for a moment, unsure of what to say. “Your house was the closest one when it started raining.” She said, her voice small. Sam climbed down off the steps and crouched next to her under the porch.

“Well, where’s your house?” He asked slowly, now noticing how dirty she was.

Y/N shook her head fervently. “I don’t want to go home.”

Sam looked at her with confusion written all over his features. Why didn’t she want to go home? Home was warm, and soft, and where family was… “Why not?”

“I just don’t.” Y/N said, a bit more sternly now. Why was this kid asking so many questions?

Sam sat there quietly for a few moments, thinking carefully about what he should do. He couldn’t just leave this girl here out in the rain… “I’ll be right back.” He said suddenly, and bounded off up the porch stairs. Y/N heard the front door close and relaxed again, quickly considering if she should run away or stay put… Her choice was made for her when Sam came out a few minutes later, and she was just about to bolt. “Do you want to come inside? My mom has something for you.” He asked, now crouched in front of her on the ground.

Y/N shook her head no, shoving her now empty bag of chips in her pocket. She would find a trashcan later. “I don’t like moms.” The girl said softly, wiping away a bit of water that had dripped from her hair and onto her forehead.

“Don’t like moms? Never heard of anyone who didn’t like moms...” He said, considering her statement for a long moment. “You’ll like mine. C’mon,” He insisted, holding his hand out for her to take.

The rest was history. Darlene Wilson had cared for the girl like she was her own, and Y/N had no need to return home to her abusive father. After some time, Darlene was able to receive full legal custody of Y/N, and the little girl was insistent she change her name. She was a Wilson through and through, and nothing could ever change that. 

But now, Y/N missed her brother like the plague. He’d left her in D.C. after going on the run with some guy named Steve, who was great, but him stealing Sam away left a bad taste in her mouth. It had been an absolute whirlwind. All Y/N knew was that this was some guy from the VA, and then next thing she knew Sam was an international criminal and working with the internationally famed Avengers team.

It had been close to a year now since she had seen Sam, or even Steve for that matter. Y/N had sold the condo they shared in D.C., and relocated to Manhattan for a job opportunity at Stark Industries. It was just a typical personal assistant job, but it was leaps and bounds better than working retail in the nations capital, at least now she was surrounded by some decent culture. Y/N was 25 now, and taking this job at Stark Industries was her attempt at trying to make a name for herself, since now she’d be living under the shadow of The Falcon. The girl was smart, that’s for sure, and graduated college with honors in biomechanical engineering. The only problem was the shitty job market, hence the working retail and the new P.A. job.

Y/N went about her week as usual, and had no plans for her Friday evening other than drowning herself in blankets while watching the newest true crime documentary on Netflix. To say that she was caught off guard when she walked into her apartment to see Sam, Steve Rogers, and Natasha Romanoff sitting on her couch was the understatement of the year; the girl nearly had a heart attack. Her first instinct was to punch Sam in his stupid face for literally dropping off the face of the earth for the better part of a year, but all she could really do was cry. It was quite embarrassing to cry in front of three of the most powerful people in the country, but Y/N didn’t give a damn at the moment. It was a reunion like you see in the movies, all tears and hugs and half assed explanations. The three intruders gave Y/N some time to shower and change before they dropped the bomb on her.

“You have to leave New York.” Sam told her as the two sat on the couch. Steve had perched himself on the arm of her unused recliner while Natasha sat in the seat.

“Excuse me?” Y/N bit back, an eyebrow quirked in question and indignation.

Steve spoke up, which was his first mistake. “It’s too dangerous for you to stay here without any of us to watch over you. Your close ties with Sam make you too much of a target.”

           “Sorry, but I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You guys disappear for a year, break into my apartment, and are now telling me I have to leave?” Y/N spoke in disbelief. Her attitude was all heat, the words flying out of her mouth red hot and angry. Steve was a little taken aback by her fiery response, not used to anyone other than Tony talking to him like that.

“We’ve been on the run all this time,Y/N, and the last thing I want is some power crazed assholes to come after you.” Sam told her, trying to keep his tone even and calm. He knew she wasn’t going down without a fight, but this was the best thing for her. With all the events he had been involved in during the last year she was a target, and he wasn’t taking any chances in losing her or putting her in danger.

           “Look, I know this is a lot, and trust us, we don’t want to do this anymore than you do.” Natasha chimed in. “But these are really, really bad people that we’re talking about, and they won’t hesitate to involve you. The last thing we want is for you to end up hurt or dead.”

Y/N didn’t know what to say. She’d kept up with the whole “fall of HYDRA” thing in the news and online, but this was all too much. “So, what exactly are you proposing? If you guys are hiding then what the hell am I supposed to do? I’m well aware of what you all and HYDRA are capable of. I read the files.”

           “We’re sending you to Wakanda. It’s all been organized already. All you’ll have to do is pack your things and get on a plane.” Steve told her.

“You’re sending me to a fucking third world country? Hell no. At least let me live in Europe or something.” Y/N scoffed, crossing her arms and shaking her head in disagreement.

           “It’s not a third world country. Just trust me, okay? It’ll be fine. I promise.” Sam’s voice spoke, even and sincere. Y/N looked over at him, skepticism and confusion clear in her gaze. He’d never led her astray, and she knew that he would never put her somewhere unsafe, especially if she was already in potential danger.

“What about my job?” Y/N asked, her defiant attitude being replaced with fear and timid body language now.

           Natasha nodded. “We’ve arranged for you to work there. Not much will change, but you’ll be with a different company. You’ll actually get to use your degree because there’s a project we need you to work on.”

Once again, Y/N was essentially speechless. There wasn’t much she felt like she could say, and she didn’t even know how she felt. She’d worked hard to get this life in Manhattan, and the thought of being forced to leave it all behind did not sit well with her… But Sam wouldn’t make her go through any of this if he didn’t think it was worth it, right?

           “So when am I leaving?” She asked after several minutes of quiet consideration.

“That’s my girl.” Sam said with a grin and threw his arm around her shoulders. “The sooner the better. Can you be ready in two days? I’ll take care of getting all your furniture sent over.

[rubyredsundae]

Mass Effect Trilogy Tag!

I was not tagged by anyone, I just really wanted to join in. If you see this and want to as well, please do! I've been loving reading through everyone's :)

I am a fan since… 2011ish? Definitely at least a year before ME3 came out. I remember watching my brother play ME2 and thinking it was so cool. While he was away it was a huge comfort for me to play it in his room, kind of like a bonding or cathartic experience for someone who wasn't there at the time.

When ME3 came out, me and him went to the midnight release at a gamestop like 40 minutes away or something, wearing clothes we threw together to kind of fit the N7 color scheme. Even though we don't talk anymore, those memories are still really precious to me. Also, the nostalgia of playing ME1 after-school or on the weekend, running to get my easy mac from the microwave during a cutscene, stuffing too hot mouthfuls while speeding the Mako towards the conduit on Ilos.

Favorite game of the series: It's a tough call between ME1 and ME2, but I'd say ME2. It's the game I get the urge to replay the most.

MaleShep or FemShep? Femshep all the way. I only play MShep when I want to do his exclusive romances. No offense to BroShep, but ME was the first game I ever played that let me not just be a girl, but customizable. Not just to be the already generated token girl character in a pack of boys. And not only can you play Femshep, but every game you are surrounded by smart, funny, tough women as squadmates. It was such a huge deal to me, and still is. Femshep represents so much. As Jennifer Hale put it, FemShep was a military grade boot to the video game industry glass ceiling.

Earthborn, Colonist or Spacer? I personally tend to lean spacer in-game, but I tend to use Earthborn when I'm writing fics.

Paragon or Renegade? Usually Paragon, but Renegade playthroughs can be really interesting, especially if I have a detailed background about why Shep is the way they are. My first Renegade, Krystle, is pretty bigoted and anti-alien until she meets Liara. Krystle is naturally guarded and quick to anger, so meeting someone who seemed to accept her and listen to her without judgment really opens her mind.

By the 2nd game, she wakes up in the cerberus lab with new biotic powers, having previously been a regular foot soldier. This makes her seeth, having someone completely take her agency, agreeing with the illusive man on the surface but plotting against him the entire time. She starts to lean more Paragon, if only to piss him off. She has the biggest smirk on her face when she blows up the collector base.

Biotics or Tech? Oooh, this is hard. Maybe biotics just the tiniest smidge because of Jack/Samara biotic bubble throw during the suicide mission. I don't know if we'll ever get a screen adaptation but THAT is a moment I would pay to see done with a big SFX budget behind it.

Favorite class: Sentinel! I don't know how much this reflects on my class preference in gaming in general, but I love the 'jack of all trades'ness of it. By the time I get an assault rifle, I don't really feel the need for anyone else to make up for something I lack. Also, tech armor in ME2? Where your shields regenerate automatically when it breaks, and the cool down is when you initially active it, instead of when you detonate it? Chef's kiss. I understand why it was nerfed in 3 but I'm still mad.

Favorite companion: Ho boy. This is obviously very difficult to choose but I'm gonna say Miranda. I've always loved and identified with her character, I love the accent, and she's always useful on missions. I was so happy when I learned she could be a squadmate in the armax arena.

Honorable mention to Ashley in ME1. Her character is rarely used to exposition lore, so she just gets to have her personality fleshed out. I don't always agree with her but she does seem genuinely willing to listen. ME3 tosses her out the airlock though; partially because her content was bugged and never restored, leaving her inclusion feel half-baked, and partly because Ash and Kaidan have to be able to serve the same plot function as each other and it negatively affects her character more than his. This could also be intentional on bioware's part, to try to flesh out kaidan's personality and tone down Ashley's as a response to criticisms of them from ME1.

Least favorite companion: Also difficult, because I don't really hate anyone as much as I am just less interested in some. I didn't like Zaeed for a long time, but I think he's much better and really funny in ME3. James was pushed on me too much at the beginning and it made me really dislike him, but I think he's greatly improved and also pretty funny in Citadel DLC. I'm also pretty indifferent to Jacob; I don't think he's a bad character, just disappointing because there was a lot of potential.

Not that every character has to go on and do some grand quest to be interesting, but I don't feel like Jacob every really got a big hero moment like everyone else. He is a very calm and introverted person (imo) who doesn't really share his feelings, so it's always been hard for to to connect with him on anything.

My squad selection: Depends on the game, but it usually involves Garrus lol. Typically it's Liara/Garrus in ME1, Miranda/Garrus for ME2, and Liara/Garrus again in ME3. I am very boring and predictable! If you have any suggestions for me to try out and mix things up, let me know!

Favorite in-game romance: Also depends on the game. ME1 it's Liara, hands down. It was the first game, really the first piece of media, where I was told two women could fall in love and be happy and that was okay. The amount of enlightenment and comfort in figuring out that I was bi these games brought me is kind of wild to look back on.

ME2 is a toss-up between Garrus and Thane. They are both wonderful but in completely different ways. I tend to now romance Thane on characters I don't plan on importing to ME3, or if I do, to just have a really depressed fucking Shepard lol. I hate how much Thane was brushed off, especially if you romanced him.

Other pairings I like: l love Miranda so much, but I'm a gay girl so I ship her and Femshep. Same goes for Tali, Jack, Ashley... damn I'm just really gay for straight girls huh :/

I don't really have any other ships for non-Shep related pairings.

Favorite NPC: Shiala is really cool to me, I wish we got to see her in 3. Emily Wong is also cool, also wish we saw her in 3. There's probably a lot more that when I come across them next I'll be like, "you! I love you! You're my favorite."

Oh also Joker! And EDI! But not together. Idk I feel like ME3 threw a curveball at me with "do you support organic/non-organic relationships?" Like m'am please don't ask me, I accidentally drank turian liquor last year, I'm not qualified to be an expert on this.

Favorite antagonist: Tbh I really dig Saren. I think his reasoning is super fascinating, both to set up how someone who's indoctrinated can rationalize to themselves that they are still in control; and as a foil to Shepard, to show what can happen when you become too isolated and the ends justify the means. I think his VA does a great job of walking the line between desperate survivor and madman. He's also the only antagonist in the trilogy that we ever fight 1 on 1 (ignoring squadmates) and it feels more personal. I think he's such a fantastic foe for the first entry in a trilogy and I don't think he gets enough credit.

Favorite mission: Is it cliche to say the suicide mission? It's honestly close to perfect. The stakes, the sequencing, the cinematics, the score. Everything works so well.

Favorite loyalty mission: Kasumi's and Tali's are really cool, as we all know. Samara's is also cool because it is entirely non-combat based. Shepard has to prove they can accomplish what seems impossible without a gun or biotics.

The confrontation at the end with Morinth always haunts me a little, because they are both right in their own way. Morinth's final line, "and they say I'm the monster", as you let Samara kill her, watch her scrambling backwards in fear... I know that she's a remorseless killer, but it gets me every time.

Favorite DLC: It's Citadel, obviously. Turns out what I really wanted was quality time and a party with all my friends. I love mass effect for many reasons, but simulating friends and affection when I had none has always made me bond to this series like other games don't. Is it sad? Sure! But I don't think love and affection for fictional characters should ever be shameful until it makes you hurt other people.

Control, Synthesis or Destroy? I'd say destroy. If the other options were presented earlier and we had time to stew with it, maybe I'd be more split. But all of this in 5 minutes? It's not like the collector base where the implications are obvious and the choice is just down to what Shepard believes. The 3 choices all seem like space magic out of nowhere, and none of them seem to really offer any insight on what Shepard should believe. So I say destroy, just because it's what Shep has intended and is most consistent with their character and their admiration of Anderson.

Favorite weapon: The spectre level assault rifle in ME1. Never have I felt more powerful.

Favorite place: Idk why but I just thought of the creepy lab with all the scientists during the leviathan DLC. I really love when Mass Effect leans into the Lovecraftian horror aspect of things. Talking to Sovereign and Vigil in ME1 gave me goosebumps my first few playthroughs.

A quote I like: I have hundreds, but the one off the top of my head is, "After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began." I have a poster of it up on my wall right now!

[yue-muffin]

The muffin watches Love and Redemption (insert preemptive crying here)

Aright, I finally FINALLY finished live blogging this episode. @mejomonster my thoughts are aplenty! I actually wrote way too much! 

Edit: I’m an idiot, I forgot to mention a prediction/observation.

Episode 1:

The CGI is actually very nice in this drama, I’m pleased. I will definitely watch dramas with cringe-worthy CGI, but it’s always nice when they manage to integrate it with the actors and set pieces well, which is even harder to accomplish in Xianxia.

Wait, what did the god of war do to deserve the reincarnation out of the heavenly realm punishment? Didn’t she defeat the Asura/Mosha guy? Was it because she used his weapon or something? And in the first place, why does that half of the Mosha guy’s soul qualify as a celestial that can be reborn? I suppose everyone is subject to reincarnation, but this batch is explicitly for those who have committed crimes in the heavens and wasn’t he on the demon/asura side? Or…maybe he was a celestial who betrayed them? Who knows, I’m just wildly speculating…

The scene definitely suggests there is a lot the narration is not telling us about how these two ended up being reincarnated - yet.

If she lacks the six senses, then why can she see and hear just fine? She apparently can’t feel pain, which would count for the deficiency of touch. Hm.

Xuanji, I relate to just wanting to go back to sleep and not deal with visitors so much lol.

HA, that little look of alarm one of the shixiongs (Liuzi?) has on his face when Linglong tries to convince Xuanji it’ll be fun because they get to check out the handsome guys. So is Linglong supposed to be her twin since they’re both 16 years old?

The dragon wolf thing moves a little funny, but at least it doesn’t look glaringly out of place and the camera doesn’t focus on it for too long, as is typical of CGI monsters. Kudos to them!

Cheng Yi is low-key really good looking in action scenes, just putting that out there. I didn’t think I would adjust to him in period clothing and long hair so quickly, since it usually takes me a while to make the switch (after seeing him in The Lost Tomb 2), but nope! He looks really good!

Ah, so this is the ruthless sect. I love how their first rule, which is literally more important than anything else they may value or encourage in their members, is to not show their entire face when outside the sect…also, what’s the point in hiding only half your face?? Sifeng’s mask only covers one eye, his forehead, and cheek on one side…at least have it cover the entire upper or lower half like everyone else in the sect (I know it’s so we can actually see the actor’s face and not supposed to make sense in-universe)?? I actually do like how they designed it though, it’s far less clunky than the full-face masks we saw in the opening sequence, probably due to the curves.

Sect leader…Sifeng is 16, he IS little pfft. Even adjusting for the times, he is a BABY haha. As I grow older, I realize more and more how young a lot of protags in fantasy stories really are. Also, sect leader is a drama queen, like he’s just lounging on his chair with this dramatic laid-back pose, takes a deep breath, and turns his chin up. So extra.

Aw, yes, I want to see more of Cheng Yi’s easy smiles. He’s so serious in TLT2, except when the warmth seeps into this expression when he’s smiling fondly at Wu Xie…

These devil/asura people have a weird bowing pose. I can’t help but think their hands make them look like…eagle claws or something lol.

Ah, a classic ‘I forgot my invitation’ situation. Well, Xuanji doesn’t have to feel too bad, apparently none of the other Shaoyang disciples know how to fly on a sword either lol. Her sister was tied down by that spell, but could none of the others have attempted to chase after the jerk who grabbed her? (Side note: I really love the color of his sect’s outfits.)

:3 I like Xuanji’s expressions, they’re just cute? So cute. Like her little huff when she’s defending her big sister from the jerkass. Also, I love characters who are like little kittens who puff up and try to protect their friends/family even though the one they’re trying to protect is probably more capable than them.

Jerkass really does take it too far when he just DROPS HER FROM THE SKY. Like, I can accept if youthful teasing goes a little far in that he snatched her and took her for a joy ride, but when it’s apparently that she really can’t summon a sword, it’s 100% not okay to just drop her and laugh it off. If Sifeng didn’t catch her, she could’ve died, and how exactly do you plan on explaining THAT to her father, huh Mr. Jerkass? He had like a dozen witnesses too.

Well, what can you expect from a guy who forgot to bring his invitation and literally was too arrogant and entitled to wait for his teacher to come out and let them in. :p Not the smartest cookie, is he. Even if you got in trouble for forgetting your invitation, you’d get in x10 more trouble for murdering a girl. Good thing she has plot armor and Sifeng was conveniently in the right spot to catch her lol.

Small note, he left her on his sword and she fell off after a bit - so…how exactly is HE flying? Can people fly without the help of their sword? Is he able to make more than one?

Lol Xuanji tugs at him like she does to her sister, it’s cute. But he’s so PANIC every time she touches him haha poor guy. He’s so awkward…why is it so endearing…

It took me a second to realize that he stutters, also that he has a voice actor this time! Idk why, Cheng Yi has a good voice. It would’ve fit this role just fine, unless there were parts they were concerned he couldn’t do. They did a good job matching the VA to his lip movements though, it’s really hard to tell it’s not his voice. It’s been a while since I heard Cheng Yi on video, but listening and comparing, now I can tell that it’s not his in this drama. Anyways, this might be my only complaint lol. Both he and his VA do a good job conveying the stuttering though!

Cheng Yi, you’re playing another character who’s good at disappearing in the blink of an eye lol…

Aah, so normally her sister’s personality type is the annoying sort, which is why she works well as a supporting character. I love how she turns her brattiness up to eleven in order to help Xuanji get out of a scolding by their father. I just really love how these two are so supportive and defensive of each other.

Edit: Alright, but Xuanji did you really just raise a flag for yourself so early in the show. ‘I think tears are the most precious things’. I WILL EAT MY HAT IF THIS DOES NOT BECOME RELEVANT LATER.

And instead of holding onto Sifeng’s name tag for like 50 episodes, she remembers she has it and goes to give it back + some birthday snacks because it’s his birthday too! GAH Xuanji is too cute.

I love how the guy who answered the door just his back only to turn around and smoothly give an explanation for his friend’s disfluency lol (so it’s a language thing!). AND THEN HE GOES ‘carry on!’ AND TURNS AROUND AGAIN. Idk why I find this funny but.

? Why all that effort for dew from a peach blossom tree. Is this one a special peach blossom tree. Why is he making tea with it. OH OK it’s good for cultivation.

He’s so vicious ha, he’s clearly perplexed by her - I mean, he’s the top disciple in his sect, so likely he doesn’t get how she can live so carefree and not have any desire to cultivate or anything. It’s perplexing and kind of total opposite to his worldview, so he reacts harshly.

Ah, I really like Cheng Yi’s acting! He goes from flat/indifferent face to reacting angrily to her picking the snake up, then a subtle worry as his eyes drop down from her to the snake.

I don’t know why I like this snake scene but I dooo. xD Also, it’s interesting how she doesn’t feel any strong emotions (she’s actually rather intensely curious tho!), while he puts on a mask literally/figuratively to seem like he doesn’t and yet gets worked up quite easily.

I’m glad she stops imitating him when he tells her to and is explicitly angry/upset, I get enough of people being assholes and making fun of others for things they can’t help like their speech impairments or mannerisms, it’s just kind of a personal thing that irks me.

AW HE’S SO PROTECTIVE OF HIS LITTLE SNAKE.

Why is it always the peach tree forests?? They’re always weird places that trap people. I can think of two other dramas where this happens haha. I know peaches do have significant symbolism in Chinese culture, so maybe that explains it.

Lol he still flips out a bit when she gets close. Poor girl, getting dropped from the air AGAIN.

Ah, this is the lake! Where they sealed part of that Mosha guy’s soul! This can’t be good.

Aw, look at his face, he’s genuinely worried for his little snake. CHENG YI YOUR RANGE OF EMOTIONS. GAH. 

I CAN’T OPEN IT. Oh wait.

WHY DID YOU GO IIIIN YOU JUST SAID YOU CAN’T DO ANYTHING AND HE TOLD YOU TO STAY OUT, YOU LITTLE IDIOT. If he’s Little Stutterer, you can be Little Idiot, ok.

Here’s an idea, she finds the snake, you fight the dragon, and then all three of you get out of there.

OH the mask comes off!! Ok, but you have seen like most of his face already…Hahaha the look on his face ‘wait…why do I feel a hand why is she touching me there…OH NO’

Ah, a nice detail I didn’t think they’d think to add in: his stuttering got way worse without the mask on, since he was so upset/shaken.

?? What just happened with her blood lol.

Final Thoughts:

An interesting start, with nice character dynamics revealed and a dangerous situation to move the plot right along. I have been informed the drama really differentiates itself from the typical setup that has been supplied thus far, and I’m excited to see it unfold.

For now, I have a tiiiiny crush on Cheng Yi and I’m interested in where they take Xuanji’s character. Also, what disasters will result from their little excursion into the super lake where a demon lord thing was sort of sealed away a long time ago...

[spiders-hth-is-an-outlier]

Four Reasons You Can Pry Cass Out of My Cold Dead Hands

Look, I kept my mouth shut for like three goddamn years of Tumblr.  That’s a lot, for me.  I’m not famous for keeping my mouth shut, so, you know.  Accept that I tried, and even though I failed, An Effort Was Made.  Take that for whatever it’s worth.

Cass is the better spelling.  It’s not just the correct spelling (though it is the correct spelling), it’s the superior choice of spelling, and here is why.

1. The Phonetics Are Good, Not Bad

You may see people point out that in English, single-syllable words with an A in the middle are typically pronounced with a short A sound.  Bat, rad, van, pal.  Cool, true!  This would be a point, except that--

It’s typically NOT true of words that rhyme with, uh, Cass.

Now, there aren’t a ton of those words in English.  One-syllable words with a short A sound and an S at the end are relatively rare!  Which is cool, because we can pretty much look at all of them, ready, here we go:

ass -- bass -- brass -- class -- crass -- gas -- glass -- grass -- lass -- mass -- pass -- sass

What do you notice?

Sure, I’ll give you “gas.”  It’s short for gasoline, and nobody ever bothered to add an extra S to make it match the pattern.  So there you go.

But now take the second S off of every other one of those words. Usually you  get a word that doesn’t exist in English, with the exception of “as” and “bras” (if you’re allowing plurals into the conversation).  But of those two exceptions, now *neither one* rhymes with Cass anymore -- either the consonant sound changes to a Z sound, or the vowel becomes that soft ah instead of a short A.  That’s what Kripke was trying to say when he says he picked the spelling because “Cas might sound like Caz.”  He meant that, reasonably enough, people might be prompted to think of the only other one-syllable word in common use English that matches this pattern, which is ass/as.

But what about the other words?  If you drop the second S and allow people to *guess* how they think the word might be pronounced -- well, who’s to say.  Would you automatically rhyme bas, clas, glas, las, and mas with gas?  Maybe you would.  More likely, in my opinion, your best guess would be to either rhyme them with as, or to pronounce them as the non-English words they are -- bas relief is from a French loan, glas is Irish, las and mas are common Spanish words.  None of them are pronounced with a short A.

So yeah, if you were randomly reading a fantasy novel, as a native English speaker, these are the calculations you’d make about how to pronounce a name: Das would sound more like dahz, I bet, while Dass is definitely dass.  Vas and Vass.  Ras and Rass.  Shas and Shass.  You don’t look at those and pronounce them the same way in your head; not if you’re an English speaker.  You just don’t.  And without the cue of knowing the full name, you wouldn’t for Cas and Cass, either.

2. Cass Is a Human Name, and We Call That Themes

Cass is a real, live name.  People have it.  The majority of them are women, and it’s short for Cassandra, sure, but it’s also a real, live, human male name.  Really!  Here’s a list of people who have that name in real life and fiction alike.  For some  of them, it’s a diminutive of single-S names like Caspar and Casimir. That’s a thing!  Sometimes it’s just a freestanding name; Cass Ballenger the politician just had it as his middle name.  Sometimes it does come from double-S names like Cassian and Cassius.  Regardless, it’s just -- a name that exists.

When you name a fictional character, sometimes you just pick one randomly, but sometimes the name reflects on or points up something thematically.  I have no idea if that was the intention in this case, but even if it was accidentally, something pretty cool happened.  The made-up fantasy-faux-angelic name “Castiel” tends to be used by other angels, particularly ones like Raphael and Naomi who are speaking to him as real or presumptive superiors in a hierarchy.  “Castiel” is the designation he was given out of the gate, when he was made to be God’s enforcer.  “Cass” is the name Dean gave him.  Cass is what his friends call him, and it’s symbolic of his relationship to humanity, which he consistently chooses over his relationship with angels.  When he fell, or jumped ship, or however you’d like to think about it, he was given a human name, which everyone who regards him with even the slightest affection at all now uses.  It’s good!  That’s good!  It’s a good use of a small thing to point up how differently different characters see him, and whether they emphasize his familiarity or his alienness. You lose that if you insist that his name is only an abbreviated form of his given name.  You lose something from the text if you imagine he’s being called Castiel-only-shorter, instead of becoming a real person named Cass.

3. Just Don’t Be A Jerk, People Are Named What They’re Named

This is just, like -- decency?  I know he’s not a real person, but it’s -- rude, right?  You don’t correct the spelling of someone else’s name.  Who does that?  Do you have beef with parents who call their daughter Catherine Katie, because only Catie is acceptable to you?  People are allowed to just do, like, whatever with names, it’s literally fine.  You know what’s not typically a nickname for Dimitri?  MISHA.  But that’s his name, because it just is.

Yeah, it’s fandom.  You can change whatever you like.  You can have whatever opinions you want about how you would have spelled it, if you were Eric Kripke, or Chuck Shurley, or Metatron, or Dean Winchester.  I have opinions about Isaac Lahey’s name in Teen Wolf, because it’s spelled Lahey and pronounced Leahy, and that’s bonkers!  But that is how it’s spelled, and I just -- go on with my life, unharmed.  Castiel isn’t a real person who will have real feelings about however you prefer to spell his name.

But the standard rule for polite society in re: how to spell someone’s name is however they want you to spell it.  Normally not obeying that rule reads as passive-aggressive at best.  Which is how we come to....

4. Fandom Gatekeeping Is Shitty, Actually

The reality behind the fervor with which Cas-people not just defend their choice to use the non-canonical spelling, but regularly flood my goddamn dash with weird, angry screeds about the fact that 100% of the world doesn’t use the non-canonical spelling, is that they are using it as a shibboleth, a marker of who counts and who doesn’t.  Who belongs here and who doesn’t.  I’ve always known this, because I’m clever like that, but recently I’ve seen versions of the Weird, Angry Screed that spell it out directly: people who spell it Cass are either new around here and haven’t learned How We Do It yet, or by choosing not to do it How We Do It, they are signaling their contempt for pro-Castiel fandom.

And honestly I understand that my reaction to this isn’t the typical one.  I know that most people find those little signs and signifiers of who’s Team Us and who’s Team Them Over There to be comforting.  There’s something that people just like about wearing the jersey; it makes them feel safe among others like them.  I get it.

But much as I love fandom, there’s something I have always hated, and always will hate, about that kind of expectation of groupthink within fandom.  I know, rationally, that part of the socialization is that you’re supposed to learn lingo and references and in-jokes -- you’re supposed to join the fandom by speaking like the fandom speaks.  But there’s something, I dunno, almost threatening?  There’s something crazy-making about taking this random, essentially irrelevant detail, and turning it into something that proves if you belong here or not.  At best, maybe you’re “new around here” (which is okay?  It’s fine, actually, to be new in a fandom and not yet realize that you’re supposed to be ignoring eleven seasons of subtitles? Why are you yelling at newbies, please don’t?), but at worst, we know because you won’t make this mental change that we’ve all agreed to make, that actually you’re not just an outsider, but an opponent.  If you weren’t, you’d do what we all do.

It’s the most literal, direct example of fandom gatekeeping.  If you know the secrets of how we speak and what we accept as real and important, then you’re cool and you can stay.  If you don’t know, or you disagree with what we all got together and accepted as real and important, based on -- watching the show? -- then we know to stay away from you because you’re the wrong kind of fan.  Not our kind.  Wearing the bad jersey.

It’s shitty.  It’s mean-spirited.  It’s the worst kind of cliquish fan posturing, casting people with legitimately different approaches to how and why to use, change, or discard canon in their art and conversation as opponents in a dumb, made-up turf war, and it serves to intentionally carve the fan community into narrower slices of self-siloed echo chambers of agreement and validation, rather than requiring people to just -- get cool with the fact that different opinions exist.

Sure, not all people who spell it Cas are like that.  Some of you seem nice.  But man, I see the knives come out all over every time the Cass spelling pops up in canon, because a lot of y’all really take this seriously, beyond just habit and aesthetic preference.  And even when it’s not said out loud, it’s clear to me that it’s not an argument about how the word looks on the page.  It’s clear to me that those who won’t conform don’t belong and aren’t wanted, and people are afraid someone somewhere might not realize they don’t belong and aren’t wanted until they conform.

There was a time in my life when I’d find that really hurtful, honestly.  That time is not now, because I have real problems, and what Supernatural fandom thinks of me really, truly, deeply does not matter to my life.

But it does bother me enough to write all this out, I guess, and I know that’s because I remember a time when I was younger and more isolated and fandom was really a social and emotional home for me, and I still have an idealistic fondness for the idea of a big-tent, non-gatekeepy version of fandom where people can just, like, be cool to each other about things, even things they disagree intensely about.  There are still people in the world who need and deserve that, and it always angries me up a little when I see people deliberately wrecking that version and replacing it with one where fans have to performatively prove that they aren’t on the wrong team through weird little random tics that have to be repeated just-so, just the way you learned them. So I don’t do that, out of love for my imaginary version of fandom where no one’s asked to do that.

So yeah, the combination of those four factors means that I am never, ever, ever going to mend my ways on this topic, which is a privilege I have, as a person with basically nothing invested in anyone in Supernatural fandom.  (I mean, some of y’all seem really nice, but none of my actual friends live here.)  That lack of being invested in the fandom also, I realize, means that I have no social capital to spend, and people are unlikely to give a fuck what I do or why I do it, so all of this has really been -- basically meaningless.  Still, I’m not really good at thinking things and not saying them, although I’m getting slightly better.  Really!  In general!

[artificialqueens]

It's You (Keep Me Singing All Day Through) (katlaska) - kamylove

AN - this fic is really fluffy and really soppy and it takes place between the last two chapters of my story They Don’t Love You Like I Love You. 

Summary: They’re still on tour and still a secret, until Sharon figures it out.

Sharon drops herself into the chair next to Alaska at the airport and hands her an Earl Grey Venti.

“Thanks?” Alaska says. It’s obscene-o-fucking-clock in the morning, and she’s not in the mood.

“You look like you’ve been missing some sleep lately,” Sharon says, with a devilish look that used to make Alaska want to do dirty things.

“Fuck off.”

“You already took the bribe. Spill.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Alaska tries to go back to her phone, but Sharon steals it out of her hand. “Hey!”

“Come on. You were glowing around her before, but now you’re fucking euphoric. It’s disgusting.”

Alaska’s not surprised that Sharon picked up on it before anyone else. Maybe Sharon just recognizes Alaska-in-love, or Alaska-well-fucked; maybe she can see it in Katya, too. Sharon sees a hell of a lot.

Past Sharon’s shoulder, Katya’s claimed five seats to sleep. Alaska glances at her and can’t help the little spark of joy in her chest. Euphoric is not inaccurate. “Didn’t you tell Katya you weren’t going to ask?”

“I told her that. Months ago. I didn’t make any promises about asking you.”

“That’s a technicality,” Alaska says, but really, she’s bubbling over with their secret. Jinkx knows, and Trixie knows, but they’ve known more or less all along, and more importantly, they’re not here. Courtney knows, because she’s close to both of them, and they knew her reaction on facetime to receiving an artful, not to say tasteful, nude selfie would be funny as hell. (It was.) But Alaska hasn’t actually talked to her for more than a few minutes.

Alaska wants to tell somebody. She and Katya are both very private people, but she can trust Sharon with anything, and Katya respects that. It’s one of the things that makes Katya so-

She bites her lip to stop her smile, and casts her eyes down like a shy teenager.

“Ah!” Sharon says. “That! That’s new!”

“You need to stop paying so much attention to me, and I’m going to have a long talk with your boyfriend about it.”

Sharon just peers at her over her glasses, and Alaska takes another quick look at Katya. She’s on her side, mouth hanging open, as fetal as she can get in that position, with her backpack under her head as a pillow. Ginger’s sitting next to her, probably texting her husband, and doesn’t notice Alaska looking.

“Okay,” Alaska tells Sharon, dropping her voice even more. “Yes. And, um,” she looks around to check for eavesdroppers, “Aaron, it’s amazing.”

“I knew it!”

Alaska wants to make a wisecrack, but can’t come up with one. “It’s just,” she confesses instead, “I don’t know why I didn’t see it before. I didn’t even really like her at one point.”

Shrugging, Sharon says, “You weren’t ready for forever yet.”

This is not something Alaska’s ever heard from Sharon. She figures at this point, she and Sharon have said just about all the words two people can say to each other. “What?”

“You have to be ready before you notice your forever person,” Sharon says. “They can be there all along, but you won’t see it until you’re ready.”

“What are you, fucking Yoda?” Alaska says. Because it feels so damn true, even before she’s finished examining the thought. She doesn’t like thinking unexamined thoughts.

“If I can dress him up in black and red, sure.”

“Where did you even-”

“Some bathroom wall, probably, I don’t remember.” Sharon shrugs again. “I was ready for you when you showed up on my fucking MySpace, but I wasn’t ready for forever until I got over you. And then I noticed my person.”

Alaska tries to deflect the emotions rushing at her. “Stop. It’s too early to be so deep.”

“He is, though, right? Your person?”

“He really is,” Alaska says softly. “He’s -” She cuts herself off before admitting how soppy and besotted she is, and how perfect Katya is. “There can’t be a fucked-up brain more suited for my fucked-up brain anywhere.”

“Yeah,” Sharon says, “the world owes you both a huge debt for taking your fucked-up selves off the market.”

Alaska laughs sharply, and it wakes Katya. She sits upright, blinking without her glasses on, and squints confusedly at Alaska. So Alaska takes back her phone and quickly texts, “I’m telling her how great you are in the sack.”

Katya reads it and shrugs. “Can’t argue with facts,” she types in reply, and lies down again, with her phone in her hand.

“Euphoric,” Sharon says. She grabs Alaska’s phone to read the conversation, and Alaska locks it as fast as she can. It’s not fast enough.

“I bet he is,” Sharon says.

“A lady does not share secrets,” Alaska says primly.

“That lady,” Sharon says, jerking a thumb towards Katya, “does not have secrets.”

“She does now,” Alaska says. She feels unbearably smug. She’s been feeling smug for weeks, if she’s honest, and it’s only in this conversation that she finally has a chance to put it on display, a little bit.

“Someday I’ll get it out of you,” Sharon says, but Alaska can tell her heart’s not in it anymore. She’s just teasing. 

“Go call your person and leave me the hell alone,” Alaska says with a fond smile.

Detox comes over right then and sits across from them, asking with the opposite of subtlety what they’re talking about. Alaska has to wipe the lovesick look off her face, and Sharon makes a joke to cover for her.

“This has been a fully surreal conversation, thank you for confusing me so early in the morning,” Alaska tells Sharon, and excuses herself to the bathroom.

As she walks she texts Katya to follow, if she’s awake. A couple minutes later a laughing Katya finds her in the last stall, and Alaska kisses her until they can’t breathe. She shoves Katya into the wall and hitches up Katya’s legs around her waist and crowds in close to keep her there. 

“I’m not complaining,” Katya whispers against Alaska’s lips, “but where did this come from?”

Alaska decides to save my ex just convinced me we’re soulmates for later. She says, “I just wanted to touch you and taste you and I won’t be able to do it on the plane.”

“Planning ahead?”

“Mmm.” She licks Katya’s neck.

“Did you plan how we’re going to get back to the gate with these raging boners?” Katya grinds their pelvises together and Alaska swallows a moan, her eyes rolling back in her head.

“Shit,” Alaska says, and they have to cover each other’s mouths to keep the laughter down. They have to do that a lot.

<><><>

They’re all busy for the rest of the day, traveling and rehearsing and sharing dinner on the stage, then dragging up and performing, meeting and greeting–completely typical of their lives on tour. But usually she and Katya can sneak in a few moments alone, and today they couldn’t. So when they get back to the hotel, they have a lot of notes to compare.

While Katya showers to scrub off her makeup, and Alaska stands in front of the mirror to remove hers with more finesse and a lot of Albolene, they enthuse over gifts from fans, bitch about the one creep at the meet and greet, decide they can get away without handwashing anything tonight, and plan out their morning. They have a midday flight, so there’s a little extra time, but they’re both tired. Sharon wasn’t wrong about missing sleep.

Katya steps out of the shower and walks right past the neat stack of towels to hug Alaska from behind.

“No, you’re wet!” Alaska protests, but the silk of her kimono heats up quickly between their bodies.

“I'm hot,” Katya says, meeting Alaska’s eyes in the mirror. She stands on her toes to perch her chin on Alaska’s shoulder. “And you told Sharon Needles all about my superhuman sexual prowess.”

Alaska chuckles. “You know I didn’t. I just told her how crazy I am about you.”

“Well. That’s a disappointment.”

“I could call her right now?”

“Maybe not right now,” Katya says. Her eyes are shining bright enough to bring out the green in them, and she’s showing off her gorgeous smile, and she looks as besotted as Alaska.

“Hey,” Alaska says. “I’m really glad we finally noticed each other.”

Katya tilts her head, and her smile softens. “I think I’m missing something in there, but I’m glad, too.” She kisses Alaska’s neck. “So, did she guess, or were you unable to keep your mouth shut about my fabulosity?”

“Mostly the former,” Alaska says, laughing. “A little bit of the latter.”

Katya laughs, too. “I’m not surprised. She knows you really fucking well.”

“Jealous?” Alaska teases.

“Nope. I know now you and I know now you better.” She stands up and grabs a towel, finally, and wiggles her ass in Alaska’s direction as she leaves the room. “Hurry up. We have looooooove to make.”

“Ugh,” Alaska says. “Never say that again.”

Katya peeks back around the door frame. “Looooooove?”

“No, that you can say as much as you want.”

“Looooooove,” Katya says again. 

Alaska throws a washcloth at her, and jumps into the shower to avoid Katya whipping her with the wet towel.

<><><>

“So,” Katya says when Alaska emerges with a towel around her waist. “How do you want me?” She’s sitting against the headboard, hands clasped in her lap, trying to look sweet and innocent. It’s too adorable.

“Hmm,” Alaska says. “I'd like to fuck you, but I saw what you had for dinner.”

“Better diet for both of us for the rest of the week. Intercrural?”

“Oooh,” Alaska says. “Big words!” She removes the towel to rub her hair with it.

“Coitus,” Katya says. “Fornication. Fellatio. Cunnilingus with the cunt you don’t have. Sodomite. Anilingus, phallus, cojones, glans penis, acomoclitic-”

“I don’t even know what that one means.”

“It means I love your shaved nether regions. Frottage. Testes. Seminal vesicle. Prepuce, frenulum, vas deferens, spermatozoa …”

“Wait,” Alaska says, sitting in lotus position by Katya’s feet. “How do you feel about foreskin?”

Katya doesn’t even blink. “If it’s a penis and there’s no rash, I’m happy.”

“No. Do you ever think about if your parents hadn’t done it?”

“My parents are good all-American Catholics. There was never any chance of that. Do you?”

“I just wonder what it would feel like during sex, you know? It would be interesting.”

“Interesting,” Katya laughs. “We can work on interesting. You can get it replaced, you know.”

“Eugh. No one is ever coming near my nether regions with a knife.”

“A wise policy that I will keep in mind for future reference. What brought this on?”

“Your word list. I looked at your dick and thought it would be cute with a little hood on top. Maybe some googly eyes.”

“I’m up for that,” Katya says. “Anytime you say. Just don’t use the E-6000, that stuff burns.”

Alaska gets up on her hands and knees and crawls closer. “Is there anything you’re not up for?”

“Hmmm. Breaking up? That’s all I can think of.”

“Good, because I’m not up for that, either.” She leans in for a kiss.

“See?” Katya says. “I keep telling you you’re perfect and you scoff.“ 

"That’s what I told Sharon. You’re perfect.”

“Scoff,” Katya says. “S-C-O-F-F.”

They smile together into another kiss. 

“Our squirrels are perfect for each other?” Alaska suggests. She straddles Katya’s hips and drapes her arms around Katya’s neck.

“That’s more believable. You’d better just hope mine don’t teach yours how to hotwire a car.” She leans in for a kiss. “I believe you promised to fuck my thighs, your honor.”

“You’re right, bailiff, I did.”

Katya grins and pushes Alaska onto her back, shoving her legs up and out. “Something I want to do first,” she says. She kneels on the floor and drags Alaska to the edge of the bed.

“Oh, fuck,” Alaska says as Katya’s tongue finds her hole. 

“Fuuuuck,” Alaska says again. Of all the things Katya’s good at, and Katya’s really going at it this time. Alaska tilts her hips to get closer and just feels for a while, little sparks shooting up her spine, her brain starting to drift. “Don’t make me lose it, okay?” she says. “We need to get some sleep.”

“Mmm,” Katya mutters. “Set a timer on your phone. I forget time exists, you forget which planet you’re on, next thing we know it’s Christmas.”

“I can’t reach my phone, so you’ll just have to stop. Come up here.” She grabs Katya under her armpits and yanks her upwards. Katya collapses on top of her.

“Hey, I was enjoying myself,” Katya complains.

“I’ll make you enjoy yourself,” Alaska says. She rolls them both until they’re fully on the bed and face to face, and wraps her fingers around both dicks.

Katya finally shuts up, closing her eyes and hissing, and Alaska watches her face contort with pleasure. 

They could have missed out on all of this, so easily.

“Love you,” Alaska says, and as she does she realizes it’s the first time they’ve put it in those words, no “pussy” or “vagina” anywhere. She knew, they both knew, they’ve been saying it in their own way for ages. But somehow they’ve never said it like normal people.

Katya smiles blissfully–euphorically–with her eyes still closed, and tangles her fingers in Alaska’s hair. “Love you back.” She searches blindly for a kiss, and Alaska gives it to her.

They’re in danger of losing time again.

“Roll over,” Alaska says. “I want to take care of you.”

Katya makes an interrogative sound but obeys, and when her back is against Alaska’s chest, Alaska wraps her whole self around Katya. Katya reaches back and tries to pull Alaska’s ass even closer.

Alaska helps Katya raise one leg a bit, so she can fit her dick in the space between. “Oh, God, Kati.”

They thrust gently against each other for a long time before Alaska takes hold of Katya’s dick again, making them both groan. Katya shifts her hand from Alaska’s ass to the back of her head. Alaska nibbles on her neck while she jerks Katya off.

“Fuck,” Katya says. “Is it Christmas yet?”

Alaska snorts a laugh into Katya’s skin, and Katya cackles as her dick throbs in Alaska’s hand and she comes.

“Fuck me, bitch,” Katya says in her sluttiest voice, and then Alaska’s laughing and coming, too, and she comes hard, with a long groan.

They lie there without words for a few minutes, just touching and feeling and breathing one another in. Then Katya rolls back over to face Alaska.

“See?” Katya says. “That was interesting.”

Alaska cracks up, and gives her a lovesick, soulmate smile.

“You’re all lovey-dovey today,” Katya says, kissing Alaska on the forehead. “I like it.”

“I like you,” Alaska says in that coy tone Katya uses sometimes, and they laugh together.

Katya sits up to clean off with tissues, and says offhandedly, “I wonder when we’ll be able to go a whole day without fucking.”

“At least two years,” Alaska says. “Maybe forever.”

“Sounds about right,” Katya says, lying back down. She lets Alaska spoon her again, and they sleep.