#maybe I’ll revisit it tonight and see what I can add

[asteria7fics]

Who do you headcanon Wendy winding up with? (Either in EWILY or anywhere)

Ooooh this is a good one!

Truthfully? It really does depend on the AU. Potential spoilers for an EWILY extra under the cut!

So I really like making everyone a little bit gay, and Wendy isn’t escaping that treatment. For EWILY, I’m working on an extra that explores her perspective on some of the events of the story. It will pretty clearly frame her as having unrequited feelings for Bebe, their dynamic in some ways mirroring that of Stan and Kyle’s. However, Wendy doesn’t have anyone pulling strings in her favor, so things don’t really start moving for her and Bebe until after high school, and a lot will happen before they get together.

I won’t say anything more to avoid major spoilers, but suffice it to say in my perfect AU Bendy is endgame.

However, I’m actually pretty open to who Wendy could end up with in other AUs. If I decide to revisit the RSB/LPM universe I would establish who she’s ended up with, and that will not be Bebe.

For future AUs? Who knows. I think Bendy will always be my default, since friends to lovers is my favorite trope. We’ll see though!

Thank you for this ask! I love talking about Wendy, and this really makes me want to work on that EWILY Extra!

[steddieas-shegoes]

Hello love! ❤️

I wrote this little blurb and don’t know where to go with it so I figured you could have it if you want it ❤️ I can see it being something good but I don’t know if I’m the right person to write it. But here it is:

My star ✨ you absolutely could do so much with this and I hope you revisit it. For now though, I’ll add a little something to this and maybe it’ll help you do more too ❤️

Eddie doesn’t pull into the driveway, he knows better. He waits on the road.

Steve was already waiting outside for him.

That’s never a good sign.

He was hopping into the passenger seat before Eddie even registered that he was walking towards him.

“Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.”

Eddie turned around and left the neighborhood, keeping the radio turned down in case Steve wanted to talk.

But as they continued towards the trailer, Steve remained silent.

“Did something happen?”

“Just my dad being my dad.”

“Did he hurt you?”

Eddie felt Steve’s eyes on him, but he didn’t look away from the road.

“No. Not physically.”

“Good. Do you wanna talk about it?”

“Maybe later.”

Steve leaned his head back against the seat.

The rest of the ride was silent, and Eddie let his mind wander to all the possible things that could have gone wrong.

“I can hear you thinking.”

Eddie put the van in park in his yard, finally looking over at Steve.

“Just worried.”

“I’m okay.”

“You say that a lot for someone who isn’t okay a lot of the time.”

Steve sighed.

Eddie watched as he considered what to say, reached his hand out to rest on his leg to comfort him.

“He’s mad because I haven’t found a better job. He figured I would have worked on making contacts or something. I dunno.”

Eddie squeezed his thigh.

“You don’t want that though.”

“Yeah well. Try telling him that.”

“I could.”

Steve smirked.

“Yeah? What would you say?”

Eddie leaned in close, lips almost close enough to touch Steve’s.

“I’d say that he doesn’t know his son well enough to judge what he chooses to do with his life. I’d say that his son is perfect the way he is. I’d say that I love his son no matter what career he chooses, if he even chooses one at all. I’d say he doesn’t deserve to have you.”

Steve closed the space between them, his breath hot and lips warm.

“And I’d say, fuck you Richard, I’ve got plenty of people who are proud of me.”

“That’s my boy,” Eddie said before kissing him again, hungrier, wetter.

“Can we go inside so we don’t get caught in your van?”

“That’s no fun. You love when I take you apart in my van.”

Steve’s blush said more than his words could.

But Eddie led them inside, past Wayne’s room, to his bedroom.

And despite the kiss in the car, Eddie didn’t let things go far tonight.

Steve needed him close, needed him to hold him, but didn’t need more than that.

[threeminutesoflife]

Have You Any Wool?

Pairings: Ransom Drysdale x Reader Warning: 18+, dub/con, manhandling/rough sex, breath play/choking, unprotected sex Summary: Engagement dinner with Ransom doesn't go as planned Word Count: 3.2k

The car ride home was silent, tense. The car bounced causing Ransom to grumble when it caught the edge of a pothole. One more thing that was surely your fault.

Ten more minutes passed until Ransom broke the silence by revisiting the earlier accusation, “You were flirting with him. Might as well have pulled your top down when talking to that fucking prick.”

“If I exposed my tits every time I talked to a prick, I’d constantly be topless around you.”

Ransom shot you a glare as the car whipped the curve out of the city and down a remote road, “It’d be safer for you to only be concerned about my prick.”

Your fingers dug into the car door as he straightened out the vehicle, “What did you-”

“Smarter. It’d be smarter for you to only be concerned about me- and my huge prick.”

“I don’t know how many times I have to tell you- there was no flirting.”

“Could have fucking fooled me with those exchanges tossed around.”

“What the hell, Ransom, you’re ridiculous. There were no secret coded exchanges. Nothing said was of value.”

“Sure. Nothing. Whatever you say.” You didn’t have to look at your boyfriend to know he rolled his eyes at least twice when spitting out those words.

“What is wrong with you? Whatever untrue scene you cooked up in your crazy head- knock it off.”

Ransom scoffed out your name, “I know what I fucking saw.”

“Oh my god-“

“No, I’m Ransom. Your boyfriend,” his eyes staying on the road as he spoke heatedly at you, “but I know how you’ve recently become confused on our roles to each other. So let me break it down- really fucking simply for you. I don’t loan my toys out for others to play with.”

“Fucking hell, Ransom-“

“Hugh… I think, I’ll have you address me as Hugh from now on.”

Taking your beaded clutch, you smacked Ransom’s bicep, “How about I call you ‘asshole��� and tell you to lose my number!”

Ransom growled and grabbed your purse as he weaved along the isolated lane. Taking the clutch, he smacked your thigh in return and tossed it out his window.

You screeched seeing your belongings fly across the wooded night sky, “Are you insane?! Pullover! Pullover right the fuck now! Everything I have is in there!”

Ransom pressed down harder on the gas pedal, propelling you back against your seat. “You have me- that’s all that fucking matters. Fran can play fetch and get it tomorrow.”

“You can’t just order her- Ugh- Pull over right now, Ransom! Goddammit, you’re unbelievable! I need my keys, my phone, my fucking wallet! It’s all in there, you asshole!”

Ransom only picked out one thing from your rant, “I’m the asshole? What kind of grade A bullshit are you feeding yourself to believe that? You were the one flirting with someone in right front of me. I don’t need to be in this relationship, you know. Plenty of people want me.”

Your eyes narrowed at that, “Then let me out here if that’s how you really feel, asshole.”

Ransom ignored your challenge and the look you shot him to smugly add, “Besides, seems like you’re up shit’s creek without a paddle. No keys? Guess you need me pretty fucking badly now.”

He squeezed your thigh and slid he hand down closer to the apex of your thighs.

“Are you crazy?” You pushed his hand away and pressed your knees together tightly. “Are you seriously getting off on being a complete shitwad to me? And- hey asshole, look at me- he was the waiter. The waiter. He asked if we wanted dessert. Meaning you and me, Ransom- not him and me. With your sweet tooth, of course I asked about the dessert options! For you, Hugh.”

You flipped his car’s heater on with more force than necessary. Really at this point, all you wanted to do was smash every button and rearrange all his settings into chaos. “All this fighting, you’d think the rage would keep me warm. But no, it’s freezing in here!”

“Maybe try wearing more clothes and not letting your nips slip out to random men.” Ransom flipped the heater off with a smirk, “Should have brought a sweater.”

“I hope you fucking choke on your sweater,” You mumbled as you crossed your arms over your chest, feeling cold and vulnerable.

Ransom arched an eyebrow at your wish and internally gloated when you ran your hands over your arms, trying to warm up.

You refused to acknowledge him, keeping your eyes pointed out the window. “Just take me home. I know you keep my spare key on you.”

Ransom smacked the steering wheel in annoyance with how the evening went, making you slightly flinch.

He had been anxious all day and well-aware he was acting like a dick to you at the moment. But the untouched ring box in his coat pocket felt too heavy for him to speak kindly to anyone tonight, even you.

Ransom had been nervous since picking up the archaic piece of jewelry. A feeling that left him sneering at a weak characteristic of humanity. He wasn’t a soft individual, but he wasn’t as abrasive around you.

He knew he wanted you as soon as you met and rejected him, only then to turn around and tell him to meet you in the restroom at the charity event. He walked in expecting to receive a blowjob and gift you with a beaded necklace. Instead, he was surprised and became more aroused when you lifted up your gown and instructed him to get on his knees and press his lips to yours.

He had this night planned for a long time- the setting, the restaurant, little details ironed and starched out. But when he arrived at the perfect restaurant, he was quickly pulled aside- as perfect you was led away to the perfect table- and was quietly informed that the perfect waiter, who he perfectly coached to ensure the perfect timing, was perfectly out sick.

The stand-in waiter was a shit show, and Ransom was convinced the guy couldn’t even shit in a pile.

Besides being on edge all night from his nerves, Ransom was now on edge from the imbecile who couldn’t time the courses correctly and wouldn’t stop talking to you like you were friends playing twenty questions.

It felt like he was watching the waiter attempt to speed date you, every time circling around your seat with more questions. What are your side dish preferences, would you like more cheese, how about more pepper, would you like your glass refilled?

Were you actually flirting with the waiter? No, you were being a polite customer. But at that point of the night, all Ransom could focus on was the wasted time he spent on the preparations and his perfect proposal going down a perfectly shit-filled toilet.

But then as negativity was drowning Ransom’s thoughts, you did that thing only you could do.

You knew something was wrong with Ransom without having to ask. You took his hand across the table and gave it a light squeeze. A tilt of your head as you bit your lip and smiled endearingly at him. He felt your thumb rub the back of his hand, each graze softer than the last. He felt the sincerity in your smile and saw the concern in your eyes. You treated him in a way that was far better than he deserved- a way he didn’t know he wanted to be treated until meeting you.

And this was it. This was the moment he planned for.

You cemented it with that serene look of adoration for him.

This was right, this was perfect.

He gave a crooked smile and thumbed his pocket for the ring box. Clearing his throat, he softly said your name. Almost too softly, because you half-laughed and looked at him with a look of cute confusion. He held your hand just a little bit tighter, a little bit more desperate. He leaned in closer from across the table and-

The waiter came back and interrupted the moment by asking about dessert. As you pulled your hands away from Ransom, you smiled politely at the waiter. Ransom felt you and your obvious answer of yes slip away from him. And he was pissed.

As the ring grew cold again in the velvet box, he vowed with every bite of the overpriced, sickly-sweet dessert he’d never eat here again.

Ransom shook his head at the tension refilling the car. The ring still stashed away in his coat pocket, teasing him with how it wasn’t warming on your finger.

The ring was still cold, but his annoyance and sweater kept him plenty warm.

He’d make up for the fight later. You were his. You’d forgive him, you always did. But first, finding a small amount of humor in his ill-aimed anger, he turned the air conditioning on. Before you could protest, Ransom flipped on the radio and raised the volume to drown out the inevitable sound of your chattering teeth.

Shifting in your seat to find a comfortable spot, you kicked off your heels. Debating which was worse- cold feet or sore feet? Biting your tongue at Ransom’s childish air conditioning antics, you weren’t about to address him more than you’d have to. You were annoyed with yourself for agreeing to eat at this out-of-the-way restaurant, and even more annoyed at yourself for losing your purse to your and Ransom’s tempers.

---

“This is not my house, Ransom,” you weren’t surprised to see he only drove where he wanted to go.

“Get out, we’re having makeup sex.”

You kept your arms crossed in annoyance and didn’t move. “Wow, so romantic. Hugh Ransom Drysdale, everyone- the last true Renaissance man.”

Ransom inhaled deeply, half-amused and half-not at your dry sense of humor, “Grab your shoes or leave'em, I really don’t care. But your ass is going to be out of this car and cupped in my fucking hands within the next five minutes.”

“I am too fucking cold for these games, Hugh. Some asshole kept the air conditioner on and wouldn’t lend me a sweater. You want us to stop fighting? Fine, we’ve stopped. But we are not fucking. Now take me home.”

“We are home. Get out or I’ll move you, y/n.”

Something about Ransom’s tone made your legs flex and your knees press together. He knew it would draw a reaction from you, it always did. You sat up straighter, your core awaking at the thought of him manhandling and manipulating your body into various positions.

Smugness twisted in Ransom’s smile as he undid your seatbelt, “Look at you rubbing those thighs together, baby. You whine about going home but we both know you’re only going to end up in my bed. If we even make it that far.”

Ransom slammed the driver's door closed and came around to your side as you tried to downplay your interest and focus on your annoyance with him instead.

He opened your door and rested against it, “Out. Before I help you.”

You grabbed a high heel from the floor and pointed it at Ransom with each word, “Leave. Me. Alone.”

Ransom dove at you, grabbing you roughly out of the car, “You’re pissing me off, y/n.”

You yelped when he flung you over his broad shoulder, your stomach pressed painfully into him.

“And I have to say, I fucking like it,” Ransom smacked your ass and kicked the car door close.

The high heel abandoned on the ground as he made his way into the house with you.

He kneaded your freshly spanked cheek, only to smack it again, “Keep screaming. Make a scene. I know you’re wet and ready.”

Ransom dropped you on the bed to bounce about as he took off his sweater and dropped it behind you on the mattress. “Strip.”

Your eyes dart over Ransom’s chest and up to his eyes. You were still miffed with his attitude tonight, but when he became forceful and unpredictable like this- you couldn’t wait for the release.

Ransom kicked your knees apart and stepped one leg in between your open thighs. “I know, my girl. Fuck, I can smell my girl. Strip before I rip it off you.”

You jumped up and caught his face in your hands, crashing your lips against his. Teeth, tongue, bitten lips, all clashing over his; the desperation and hunger for it all felt more like a tactical advance than a romantic gesture.

Ransom pulled away first and chuckled darkly, “It’s always a sexual rollercoaster with you.”

His fingers snaked across the top of your sweetheart neckline and he slid two fingers underneath the material. He kept his eyes on yours as he slowly dipped his fingers up and down along your smooth skin.

Moving his fingers over your clavicle and up your neck, he laid them across your lips as you opened your mouth. Your tongue darted out, circling and wetting his fingers, anticipating him to insert his fingers in your mouth as you parted your lips more.

But he pulled away surprising you, and moved them back down to the top of your dress. Dipping his fingers between your cleavage, the cool air hit your skin along the wet trail he left.

“You’re a stubborn little tease, baby. Now, what did I tell you to do?” His hand came out from the top of your dress to grip the delicate material. Ransom jerked you close to him and bent his knee, your core hitting against his thigh as you stumbled into his chest.

Your eyes closed at the contact, your clit eager for more friction and attention. Biting your lip, you decided to change his command slightly and started undoing his belt. Ransom’s hips jolted out towards you as you tugged the leather lose. His grin widened when you tossed it on the floor and dipped your hands in his boxers.

Reaching behind you, he unzipped your dress. The tips of his fingers lingered down your spine. Ransom leaned into your neck, his teeth slowly nipped and his lips gently bruised your skin as his fingers dug into your hips. The dress pooled around your ankles, his pants followed. You stripped each other bare, a veil of soft intimacy hung around you both.

You cupped Ransom’s cheek with a soft smile, “Hi.”

A furrow started in his brow at your voice and before you had time to think, you were taken by surprise.

Ransom shoved you backwards, disliking the tenderness only you brought out in him.

Your head snapped against the mattress as your legs fell open, pussy glistening. Startled by his abruptness, you shouted out, “Asshole.”

“Oh, we’ll revisit that area again, princess- but I have something planned for you first.”

Ransom grabbed your ankles and yanked you across the bed to him. Gripping your hips, he flipped you over onto your stomach. He ignored your protests and slapped your bottom, sending a jolt through you.

Ransom’s hands ran up the back of your legs, his thumbs dipped between the apex of your wet thighs.

He moved his slick-coated thumbs along the crease of your cheeks, “Go on, keep crying wolf, baby. We both know you like it.”

His words made you involuntarily lift your ass off the bed, welcoming him to tease you more. Pulling you up to his chest, Ransom dropped his arms around the front of your waist and rocked his erection against your ass.

His lips ghosted your ear, his long fingers teased your clit, “Turn over, lay down. You’re going to like this.”

Breaking away from Ransom you dropped to all fours but didn’t refused to move further, and watched him spit and stroke himself over your shoulder.

He looked down at you, an eyebrow raised at your delay, “Fucking stubborn. Fine, I’ll make sure you love this.”

Ransom jumped at you, grabbing your shoulder and collaring your neck. He twisted you over onto your back and pressed his weight into your chest. His hold tightened around your neck and your knees fell apart inviting him closer to your core.

“So beautiful, aren’t you?” He lined himself up to your entrance. “So fucking sure of yourself,” he groaned as he felt you stretch around him. “So fucking sure-”

He pressed his fingers harder into the column of your throat as he pushed himself deeper into you, “I won’t hurt you, much.”

One of your legs hooked around his waist, both of your arms around his torso as he dragged himself in and out of you. You concentrated on your breathing and the chaotic fluttering in your core.

Every push into you, Ransom held your throat tighter; every pull away from you, he loosened his grip.

“You still cold, baby?” Ransom mocked and rolled his hips deep into you.

A mangled moan and a hard press of your heel on his ass was your reply.

“Here,” Ransom rocked back on his heels, pulling you back with him and down onto his cock with a tilt. “Let me warm you up some more.”

His knees dug into the mattress while your bottom was suspended in the air, each ass cheek in Ransom’s hands while your legs were wrapped high around his waist. He watched himself slide in and out of you, glistening. Your moans filled the room and nails bit into his forearms as you matched each other’s pace.

“Fuck.. Ransom..” You patted wildly. “Oh my god...”

He rolled his hips and snapped into you harder, arrogance and pleasure rolling off him.

Keeping himself inside you, Ransom dropped your bottom and bridged himself over you, his arms caging you under him, “Gotta get you warmer, baby.”

Without slowing his pace, he reached for the discarded sweater with one hand and looped it around your neck.

He felt your pussy clench as he made the knot. Your whimper cut off as Ransom tightened the wool sleeve around your throat.

With one hard yank on the sweater, he dove himself deeper in your pussy. Your cervix hurt but you were never wetter.

“That’s it, baby,” Ransom murmured above you, watching your reactions, all your tells, as he fucked you faster. “Fuck! Can feel you trying to milk my cock. So.. close.”

The sweater knotted in his hand as he braced his weight on his elbows. A tighter twist with a dirty roll of his hips. Your ankles locked above his ass as he slammed you over the edge.

“Right there, baby,” Ransom cupped your face, twisted the sweater tighter and roared, “RIGHT... THE... FUCK… THERE!”

Your mouth fell open and vision whitened as you shattered around him, your cunt convulsing and squeezing him. Ransom loosened the sweater and grabbed your face as he rutted into you.

His rhythm lost as he kissed your cheeks and brought you back to him, “So good, baby. My fucking girl.”

You pulled his lips to yours and swallowed his moans as he found his own release in you.

---

Ransom climbed back in bed, the sounds of your steady breathing filled the room as he nestled himself behind you. He pulled your back closer to his chest and slipped his leg between yours. Pressing his thigh against your core, he smirked feeling his dried release still staining your skin. Tomorrow morning, you would notice the ring on your finger. But by then, it would be warm on your skin and remain there. It didn’t matter to Ransom that he hadn’t asked you, you were his.

[obeymestudentcouncil]

Surprise

I couldn’t let Mammon’s birthday go by without something for him, lack of writing or no.  Thankfully, the event gave me the idea and I ran with it.  I’m not as happy with this, but maybe I can revisit it later and add to it. 

You couldn’t have been happier with how Mammon’s party turned out.  The letter idea that you had all enacted the day before worked perfectly.  It warmed your heart to see the brothers bonding in a way you saw rarely at best, and from you could tell happened even less than that before you joined them.

 But you’d came up with a final surprise unexpectedly.  When you’d brought up his special day, Mammon had floored you with the day he described.  A day, just the two of you?  You started making your own plans.  It would end up being the day after his birthday, but you doubted he’d mind that too much.

 You stole a small amount of time to yourself during the day, while the others were still all preparing the house for the party.  You knew there wouldn’t be time after; and you didn’t like the idea of making trips into the forest by yourself late at night anyway.  Later, after the party was over and clean up done, you slipped back to your room.  You were glad that there was one final sheet of paper left from the set you had purchased for the plan.  You hadn’t even had time to set pen to paper before there was a knock on your door, Lucifer’s voice filtering through the wood to ask for entry. You called out for him to come in, setting the pen down and turning as the eldest stepped into your room.  He crossed his arms over his chest, looking at the paper on your desk.  “You snuck away as soon as you could.  And I noticed you were missing for a while this afternoon.” You nodded, there wasn’t any reason to deny it anyway.  “I have one last thing I’m wanting to do for Mammon.  I’ve been getting it set up when I have time.” It might have been a trick of the light, but you swore you saw the corner of Lucifer’s lips twitch in a smile for a moment.  “And exactly what is it you’re setting up?  Don’t think I didn’t notice you heading into the forest earlier.” Grimacing, realizing you were caught, you came clean.  “Well, I was trying to get him to think about his ‘special day’ meaning his birthday.  He started talking about a day with me, no interruptions, in a cabin by a lake.  I wanted to do something like that for him.”  You looked down at your fingers in your lap, twisting them together nervously.

 “And you were thinking of giving him that?”  At your sheepish nod, he chuckled.  “I don’t think the others would be likely to be accommodating for that, but I’ll see what I can do to distract them.  Tomorrow, I’m assuming?”

 You looked up at him, mouth open slightly in surprise.  You smiled hopefully and nodded.  “I was writing a letter to send him out there.  I planned on dropping it under his door after he went to sleep tonight and beat him out there in the morning.”

 Lucifer nodded.  “I’d rather you not spend the night out there alone, so that should work.  If I see him up before you, I’ll distract him, but it’s Mammon.  He’ll almost certainly sleep later than you.”  He turned to leave the room, the door clicking closed behind him.

 You smiled at the door for a moment, then turned your attention back to the matter at hand.  You were glad you’d kept this piece of paper aside.  It was the flashiest, and gaudiest if you were being honest; but that suited Mammon just fine and would help it catch his eye in the morning.

 Another knock at the door had you sighing, pushing the letter under a stack of schoolwork.  You got up and opened the door yourself this time, not surprised to see the birthday demon himself on the other side.  “Hey Mammon, what’s up?” ”Heyyy, c’mon, you left the party and disappeared!  I thought you’d want to spend the rest of the night celebrating with the Great Mammon!”

 You sighed, hoping your expression read as disappointment.  “Awww, I want to, Mammon.  You know I wouldn’t pass up the chance to spend the rest of the day with my first demon.  But, I have a really big test next week and I’ve got a full weekend ahead of me too.”

 He pouted, and you felt your heart melt.  But you knew it would be worth it tomorrow when you got to surprise him with what you were working on.  “I’ll make it up to you, as soon as this test is past me, I promise.”  You said hopefully. ”Fine, fine.  But I’m holding you to that.”  He glanced over your shoulder into your room.  “Hey, what’s up with that big basket over in the corner?  Looks like a picnic stashed in here.” ”What?!”  You stumbled mentally.  You hadn’t thought of hiding that out of view of your door.  You’d gathered up an assortment of the leftover goodies from the party, stashing them in your room to protect them from Beel for the morning.  “Oh, that.  I just grabbed a few things to snack on while I’m studying.”   You gently prodded him out of the doorway, surprising him with a quick peck on the cheek. He fell back a few more steps, eyes wide and hand over his cheek.  “Alright, gotta get back to it, happy birthday again, Mammon.”  You shut the door on him, leaning against the door as you waited for the sound of him leaving. You dropped back into your desk chair, pulling the paper out one last time, finishing up the short note.  Now you just needed to wait.  You set your alarm to ensure you were up early enough to drop the letter and get to the spot you’d picked out before Mammon woke up.  You weren’t sure how long the nervous energy kept you up, tossing and turning until oblivion finally took hold of you.   Your dreams were interrupted by the sound of the alarm blaring in your ear where you’d dropped your DDD the night before when you finally fell asleep.  You dragged yourself out of bed, waking up quickly as you got ready, the excitement lending your more energy than you usually had this early.  You shouldered your backpack and picked up the basket, scooping the letter up on your way to your door.  A quick stop to slip the letter under Mammon’s door and you were on your way, passing Lucifer in the entryway.  The two of you nodded to each other before you opened the door and took the footpath into the forest.

You didn’t have quite enough time to finish setting up by the time you heard the crunching of footsteps on the dry grass of the lakeside.  The tent was up, the basket stashed inside, but not much else.   ”Oi!  What’s this?”  You stuck your head out the tent flaps at his voice, beaming at him.   ”Happy birthday!  Or, well, I realize it’s a day late on this one, but I had to work with what I had.”  You stepped out, still grinning.  “I know it’s not a cabin by a lake, but hopefully a tent works too.”

[arrow-guy]

The Lighthouse (6/??)

Summary: The town is sleepy, the people are nice enough, but life gets turned upsidedown when the God of Thunder literally falls out of the sky.

A/N: Alright, I promise to start answering some questions as soon as I can get through this and the next chapter. I’m really excited to share this story with you guys now that it’s all planned!

Page dividers by @carryonmyswansong​

Pairing: ThorxReader

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: None

Part 5

“You seem more confident today.”

“Can we not talk about that right now?” I ask. “Trying to do magic with your instruction is hard, but it’s nigh unto impossible with you commenting on irrelevant stuff.”

“You’ve improved immensely over the last week, and I’d hardly say it’s irrelevant.”

“I don’t think confidence has anything to do with it,” I mutter.

“Then what is it?”

“We need to find Loki and I don’t want to scare Thor again if I have to use magic.” I shake my head and forget trying to focus on the spell. “The fact that I can even do magic still blows my mind. There’s still a lot that I have to process on top of all of trying to train with you.”

“What makes you think you need to find Loki?”

“You don’t know where he is and Thor’s worried about him. I’d say that’s cause enough to want to find him.”

“You really care about him.”

“Of course I do.” I shake my head and flop down on my bed. “Of course I do. I thought that was obvious.”

“To you, perhaps.”

I scowl. "Am I not allowed to experience my feelings privately? I've barely had time to process the fact that an actual god seems to have a crush on me, let alone sift through my own feelings on the matter."

“I’d say you’ve had a fair amount of time.”

“I’ve had barely more than a week. I don’t think you understand the kind of brain power it takes to even contemplate Thor wanting me.” My face flushes and I cover my cheeks with my hands. “I don’t want to process that right now. I just want to finish my projects and keep going with these lessons so I can be more helpful.”

"I think you're mistaken to believe that you're not helpful, (Y/N). You've done more for all of us than we'd have been able to accomplish on our own."

"But I've got all this… this energy inside of me. I want to understand it. I want to use it. Maybe if I can, we'll be able to find Loki."

"You're not going to drop that, are you?"

"Not a chance. I have a gut feeling that he'll be able to help us."

"How?"

"I don't know, it's just a feeling. But I want to act on it before that feeling goes away."

Thor knocks on the door frame and pokes his head into the room. "Am I interrupting?"

I smile at him and shake my head. "Nah. What's up?"

"I was hoping I could start on dinner."

"Oh?"

"I'd prefer to do so with supervision," he explains. "I'm sure I can do it, but I'd rather not burn down the house."

I laugh. "I'll be right down."

“Thank you.” He grins and disappears out into the stairwell.

“You still there, Heimdall?”

“Yes.”

“We’re going to revisit this Loki thing tomorrow,” I say. “This is non-negotiable”

“Fine. I’ll make preparations.”

“Thank you.” I haul myself up from my bed and head for the stairs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go make sure he boils the pasta instead of setting it on fire.”

I kiss Thor’s cheek as he dishes up the spaghetti. “Thanks for cooking tonight.”

His grin lights up his face. “Happy to. Though I must thank you for your help. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“I’m sure you could’ve figured it out..” He raises his eyebrows and I laugh. “Maybe not just yet, but I’m sure you’ll get it eventually.”

“With you as a teacher, I’m sure I will.”

“Aw, you’re sweet.”

He hands me my dinner and dishes up his own. Thor watches in confusion when I move to the living room instead of sitting at the kitchen table. I gesture for him to follow me and he does so with some reluctance..

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Look, I’ve been proper as long as I can manage it,” I plop down on the couch and pull my legs up onto the cushions as I pat the space beside me. “But right now, I just want to eat dinner on the couch.”

The cushions dip as Thor takes his seat and I tip to the side and fall against him. He looks concerned until I laugh and right myself enough that I can sit up, but my arm is still pressed against his. I jokingly jab his side with my elbow and he laughs. We eat in silence, occasionally having to fend off Daisy when she comes begging and Charles when he tries to stick his little paws in our pasta.

Daisy eventually manages to distract Charles long enough that he decides playing with her is better than getting marinara sauce on his paws. I sigh in relief and lean heavily against Thor and he hums softly.

"How is your training going?" he asks.

I shrug. "It's alright. Way more exhausting than my day job, but I think we're starting to see some improvement?"

“I had a feeling you’d be a quick study.”

“Really?”

He shrugs. “You’re a very determined person. It doesn’t surprise me that you’d apply that determination to everything that you take on.”

"O-oh," I say dumbly.

"What is it?"

"I guess I just didn't expect you to make that kind of assessment."

"I may not be able to cook, but I'm not stupid, (Y/N)," he jokes.

"No, I know you're not. I just mean that I sometimes forget that you pay attention to me. Being known like that is… it's nice." I look up at him and smile. "It's really nice."

"I want to know everything about you, eventually," he says softly. "If you'll allow it."

“Of course. But only if you’ll allow the same.”

The corner of his mouth ticked up into a small smile. “I’d warn you against it, but I know you’re well aware of how  much there is to know.”

I nod. “Yeah, I know. But, like you said, I’m a very determined person.”

He laughs. “Yes, I know you are.”

I smile at him and wipe a bit of marinara sauce from the corner of my mouth with my thumb.

We finish dinner and do the dishes. Thor tries to start a water fight and I grab his wrists and he allows me to hold his hands to his chest.

“You’re cute, but I’m not gonna do this with you tonight.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Perhaps a different night?”

I shake my head, unable to stop myself from smiling. “More like never. Maybe we go to the beach next week or something. Make a day of it.”

“(Y/N), are you asking me on a date?”

“I’m asking you to go to the beach with me,” I poke his chest. “Anything that happens after that is unplanned and spontaneous.”

“Spontaneity isn’t really your thing.”

“It is sometimes.” I place the bowls into the dishwasher. “Infrequently, but sometimes.”

“Alright,” he says softly. “We’ll go to the beach.”

I smiled up at him. "Cool."

We finish with the dishes and round up Charles and Daisy to cuddle while we read on the couch. Daisy has a hard time staying put and Thor moves to the floor where she flops down in his lap. I lay on the couch and Charles curls up on my stomach. I doze off with my book on my chest and Thor gently shakes me awake.

We say goodnight and I kiss his cheek before heading upstairs to get ready for bed. I turn back to look at him and find him sitting on the couch with pink cheeks and a lopsided smile, gently touching his cheek. I smile and my heart flutters at the sight. I duck into the bathroom before he can catch me staring.

"I am not sure you’re ready for the magic it will take to find Loki."

"I mean, it's gonna have to be a sheer force of will type of magic, right? Based on what I know about my magic, spells aren't really my thing. Maybe I can work up to finding him by finding little things first."

"That could work… though I wish there were an easier way to focus your power. Compacting magic and forcing it to do what you want can be very dangerous."

"Then I'll practice outside."

“You’re not going to let go of this, are you?”

“I told you yesterday that this was non-negotiable. We’re finding him and that’s that.”

Heimdall sighs audibly and I know that I’ve won. “Fine. You will not tell Thor about this until we have his location.”

“Obviously not. I don’t want to get his hopes up.”

I head downstairs and Thor pokes his head into the kitchen when I reach for the door.

“Where are you off to?” he asks.

“Working on bigger magic today. I can’t really use spells so I kind of have to force the magic to do what I want which is,” I mime an explosion. “Explosive.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, don’t really want to blow up the house.”

He laughs. “Alright, let me know if you need any help.” He grins and adds, “Or a test subject.”

I shake my head. “I would never use you for that. You’re too pretty.”

“Thank you, (Y/N).” He hesitates before heading back to the living room. “I’d still trust you to, if you needed me, though.”

I smile. “I gotta go. I’ll let you know how it goes after.”

“Yesterday definitely didn’t go as planned,” I mumble.

“That is not your fault,” Heimdall says. “From what I could tell, his location kept changing. There was no way that either of us could keep up with him at the rate he was moving.”

“How can he be moving that fast?” I shake my head. “It makes no sense.”

“I’m puzzled as well.”

“Well, he’d have to be moving through space, right? If he were anywhere on Earth, he’d at least be easier to pinpoint. More like a Pachinko machine than Pinball.”

“I’ll assume what you just said to be gibberish and move forward,” he mumbles. “But yes, he would have to be moving through space as opposed to being stuck on a stationary planet.”

“All of you are experiencing memory issues, correct?”

“To the best of my knowledge, yes.”

“Alright, what if you’re the one who sent Thor away?”

“There’s a possibility that I did.”

“Is there any way to mess up that kind of magic?”

“Only if the subject of the spell was knocked off course.”

“What if you tried to send Loki away and he was knocked off course?” I begin pacing, biting at my thumb. “There has to be something pretty powerful to mess with the memories of literal gods. Maybe Thor was subject one and got away clean, but Loki was subject two? Maybe whatever attacked you went after Loki before you could do anything, and he was already sent away, but knocked off course.”

“If that’s the case, then finding Loki is a matter of waiting.”

I groan. “That sounds awful. Is there no way to pull him closer?”

“Unless you’d like to completely destroy yourself, I would advise against it.”

“Ah, well… I guess I can wait a little while.” I paused mid-step. “Is there any way to more accurately pinpoint where he is?”

“It may be possible to determine his general position.”

“Then we’ll have to work on that, if there’s nothing else that we can do.”

“It would be prudent to practice on other spells while you are looking for Loki. I’m sure that this runs deeper than poor memories and displaced godlings. You may be getting yourself into something that you’re not ready for.”

“Fine. I’ll train and look for Loki during breaks. Does that sound good to you?”

“It sounds… acceptable.”

"Great, where do we start today?"

“Are you sure that you’re alright?” Thor asks.

I nod. “I’ll be fine. I just need to sleep off this magic hangover.”

“I’m worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard, (Y/N),” he admits. “There’s no reason to kill yourself over magic.”

“I’m not going to, I promise.” I take his hand and smile up at him. “It’s like exercise. I have to build up my stamina and I’ll eventually get stronger, and I’ll be able to cast better and longer than I was before.”

“I don’t know…”

“What can I do to ease your mind?”

He holds our clasped hands to his chest. “Take a day off. You finished with your last project for the week two days ago. Just… take some time for yourself and rest.” He reaches out and cups the side of my face with his massive hand when I frown. “In the time that I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you this run down, (Y/N). I just want you to take care of yourself.”

I nod. “Alright.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Will I have to wrap you in a blanket and make sure you stay in one place?”

I roll my eyes. “You won’t. I’ll take the day off.”

“Thank you.” He gently kisses the top of my head. “Do you want clam chowder for dinner?”

I try not to laugh. “Why clam chowder?”

He shrugs. “I saw a couple of cans in the pantry and it looks good.”

I laugh and pull him towards the kitchen. ”Okay, we’ll have clam chowder for dinner, but we’ll do it with a twist.”

“Oh?”

“In my family, we add bacon, heavy cream, and fancy white cheddar cheese to our clam chowder,” I explain. “Makes the flavor a little more rich. I like to add a little Tabasco on top of all that, but that’s just a personal preference.”

“Wow.”

“Mhm, it takes a little extra time to prep, but it’s worth it.”

“Then I’ll help.”

“Hmm?”

“You say it takes extra time. If we work together, then it won’t take as long.”

I press my lips together to keep from laughing. I don’t have the heart to tell him it’ll take just as long to make dinner, even with two people in the kitchen, so I don’t say anything.

We cook dinner and Thor enjoys it just as much as he hoped he would. 

“You’re supposed to be taking the day off.”

“I know, I’m not doing anything.”

“Where are you off to, then?”

“We need groceries. You looked like you were really deep in your book, so I figured I’d go by myself.”

He perks up slightly. “I can go with, if you’d like.”

“No, it’s alright. You stay here with the beasts and your book. I won’t be gone all that long anyway.”

He sighs and agrees to let me go and settles on the floor just as Daisy trots into the living room. She flops down on his lap as I’m grabbing my purse and keys. She stretches as far as she can and licks Thor’s mouth and I laugh as he splutters and wipes away her slimy, doggy saliva.

“Are you sure that it’s wise to leave him on his own?”

“He’s a grown man, Heimdall, he can take care of himself and a dog for half an hour,” I mutter.

Thor looks up, silent question on his face, and I wave him off as I close the door behind me. The drive to the grocery store is uneventful and I’m able to get in and out of the store with relative ease. I just barely manage to escape having to talk to Sheriff Green as I’m climbing back into my car.

“I’ve been trying to find Loki,” I admit.

“I’m not surprised. You don’t seem the type to do what others tell you.”

“Look, I tried to take the day off, but there’s only so much TV I can watch and so many hobbies I can fiddle with before I get excruciatingly bored. I’m a fan of doing things that yield some kind of result.”

“So you decided on magic that will drain your energy unlike anything naturally found on your planet.”

“Thor doesn’t need to know.”

“I won’t tell him if you won’t.”

“Much appreciated.”

We lapse into silence, but Heimdall is just as eager to find Loki as I am.

“So, you said you were looking. Did you have any success?”

“I don’t know for sure, but it feels like he’s getting closer. Like he’s closing in on Earth.”

“I see.”

“More Pachinko than pinball, finally.”

“You still have yet to explain what you mean by that.”

“Okay, so with Pachinko you launch a ball into the board and hope it falls in the hole that you want, whereas, in Pinball, you want to keep the ball in the air as long as you can.”

“And the hole you want, in this instance, is Earth.”

“Exactly. If not Earth, then at least our solar system.”

“I see.”

“You should, you’re the one who’s supposed to see everything,” I joke. Heimdall says nothing and I shake my head. “You have no sense of humor.”

“It wasn’t funny.”

“Thor would’ve laughed.”

“Thor is in love with you, he would laugh at any joke you tell.”

“He’d laugh because I’m hilarious, not because he’s in love with me,” I retort. “And he is not in love with me!”

“You say that, but you’re half in love with him yourself. You are hardly in any position to argue about love.”

“I’d really appreciate it if you wouldn’t tell me how I feel. You don’t know how I feel.”

“I see all, (Y/N). Remember?”

“Yeah, not as cool when you’re peeking into someone’s emotions.” I park the car in the carport, but don’t immediately get out. “But, as I was saying, I’ve been looking for Loki. I think he’s getting close to the solar system. I don’t know how close he is to Earth, but I plan on keeping an eye on the situation.”

“I see. I’ll do what I can to find his specific location.”

“Alright.” I grab up the groceries and reach for the door handle, but pause. “No telling Thor.”

“You seem to forget that I couldn’t, even if I tried.”

“Just making sure.”

I walk into the house and find Thor spread out on the floor with Daisy hugged up against his chest. The two of them are snoring softly and I laugh quietly and shake my head. I don’t wake them, and instead decide to get started on dinner on my own. The smell of cooking ham eventually rouses Thor and he wanders into the kitchen and wraps his arms around my middle. He kisses my temple and tucks his chin against my neck as he asks what I’m making.

“Breakfast sandwiches,” I answer. “Quick and easy and way healthier than McDonald’s.”

He hums softly and I pat his cheek before turning my attention back to dinner.

We curl up on the couch and watch a couple of episodes of a forging show. Heimdall’s accusations from earlier ring in my ears and I can’t help thinking of how I feel about Thor. I refuse to put too much thought into it, though, and settle against Thor’s chest.

---------

Part 7

I know this chapter has probably left you with more questions than answers, but I promise all will be revealed in due time.

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[pixiegrl]

“I bought you a beanie! Isn’t the pompom cute?” with fairy tale lashton

Meghna!! I’m so happy to revisit bad gift giving mermaid and werewolf Lashton with more gift giving gone wrong and then right! This is the sequel to this fic. Shout out to Amanda for editing this! 

On ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28254867

Luke’s stuck. It’s Christmas and he’s relatively sure that Ashton celebrates Christmas. Do werewolves celebrate? They must. Luke’s never celebrated Christmas, because he’s a mermaid and he’s still trying to understand human customs. Ashton’s spent his whole life on land, so surely he must celebrate this. As such, Luke’s picked out a gift for Ashton that he’s sure is perfect. It’s a beanie with a cute little purple pom-pom. Luke happens to think Ashton looks very nice in deep purple, complimenting his hazel-gold eyes and he thinks the colors of the beanie will be good for Ashton. The weather is getting colder too and Ashton never seems to have a hat, unlike Luke who has to wear three layers at all times. Luke texted Ashton an hour ago, asking him to come by the shop so that he could give Ashton his gift. 

“You’re excited,” Michael says from his spot on the other side of the counter, sorting through different gemstones for authenticity and their value.

“I have Ashton’s gift. It’s perfect and I can’t wait for him to get here so he can see it,” Luke says, bouncing on his heels and fiddling with his pearl necklace. Reginald bubbles in agreement to Luke. Michael rolls his eyes.

“You two are gross. It’s only been like two months and you’re practically married already. Maybe your gift should be an engagement ring.”

Luke blushes, “I couldn’t do that Mikey. It’s too soon.”

“Ashton gave you a pearl. That’s like a proposal already. Why don’t you just make it official?”

Luke’s saved from answering by the bell at the front door jingling, bringing Ashton in from the cold in a burst of cool air and a light dusting of snow. The door’s barely closed behind him before Luke’s rushing over, fussing over Ashton to make sure he’s not cold. Ashton laughs, pulling Luke in for a quick kiss.

“Hi Starfish. How’s your day?” He says when they separate.

Luke grins, “Better now that you’re here, Moonshine. I haven’t seen you in ages.”

“It’s been four hours. Get a room you two,” Michael grumbles from the counter. Luke steadfastly ignores him.

“I have a surprise for you,” Ashton says, grinning widely, sharp canines on display. Luke’s heart flutters.

“What a coincidence, so do I.”

Luke tugs Ashton over to the counter, rounding it and pulling his gift from underneath, laying it out for Ashton. Ashton grins, pulling his gift from inside his coat. It’s a neat little gift, wrapped in silver paper. Luke picks it up, realizing that the paper is covered in little seashells. He laughs a little, earning him a bright smile from Ashton.

Luke tears into the paper. It’s the first Christmas gift he’s ever received and he’s excited to see it. Surely, Ashton’s gotten him something sentimental and personal now that they’re dating.

Luke is wrong. He pulls a white crop top out of the paper, with little purple seashells on the chest. Luke cocks his head to the side, glancing up at Ashton, who’s grinning earnestly at him.

“I don’t...um...get it?”

The smile drops from Ashton’s face, “The Little Mermaid? She has a seashell top she wears.”

“Did you just compare Luke to a cartoon teenage mermaid?” Michael blurts out, laughter edging at his voice. Ashton goes red.

“I thought it was cute.”

“It’s cute. Thank you, Ash,” Luke rushes out, trying to soothe over the situation quickly before the werewolf’s mood drops even more. He’s already drooping as is.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes it’s very cute. I’ll wear it when it’s a little warmer out. Why don’t you open yours?” Luke says, gesturing to the package and trying to distract Ashton. Ashton perks up, tearing into his own wrapping paper. He pulls the beanie out, frowning slightly at it while he glances between Luke and the present. 

“A hat?”

“It’s a beanie! I say it and I know you never have a hat, so I bought you a beanie! To keep you warm! Isn’t the pom-pom cute?” Luke gushes out, leaning over to bat at the little pom-pom.

“Luke, this is very sweet, but I don’t use a hat because I don’t get cold,” Ashton says, looking up at Luke sheepishly.

Luke freezes, “What?”

“I’m a werewolf. I don’t get cold. Internal body heat and all. I’m practically a furnace.”

“But it’s cold out. Don’t you need a hat sometimes?”

“Not usually. It’s cute though. Thank you for the thought,” Ashton says, taking the beanie and putting it into his coat pocket. Luke’s filled with despair looking at it.

“You’re welcome,” He mumbles, crestfallen. Ashton smiles, corners of it not reaching his eyes as he leans over, pressing a kiss to Luke’s cheek.

“I have to run. Thank you for the gift, it was very sweet. I’ll see you later,” Ashton says, raising his hand in a wave to Michael as he leaves the shop.

There’s a beat of silence when Luke huffs, morosely and looks down at the crop top. Michael clears his throat.

“You’re doing it again,” Michael says. 

“Doing what again?” 

“Failing to communicate and giving each other shitty gifts. Except you guys are dating now so you shouldn’t be this bad at it,” Michael says, staring at the rose quartz in this hand, turning it over and over. Luke stares at the side of Michael’s head blinking. No that’s not...that can’t be…it can’t be happening again. Right? 

Luke looks down at the crop top in his hands with the seashells on it, the thing that reminds Luke of Ariel. 

“Michael, this is like...a joke gift though. This is the kind of thing you would buy me.” 

“I think Ashton was trying to be funny? And before you, the only mermaid he’s probably seen is Ariel. Plus, we already know you two suck at giving proper gifts. It has to be,” Michael says, glancing at Luke over the rim of his glasses. 

Luke huffs, thumbing his forehead down on the countertop, groaning. 

“Oh god Michael. We are. I bought a werewolf a beanie. He bought me a seashell bra top. We are destined to be a mess, aren’t we?” Luke moans. 

“We saved this last time. Maybe we just need to do some more research. Find what we can give a werewolf. I have faith in us,” Michael says. 

“What do I even get him? This is so stupid,” Luke mumbles against the counter. Michael hums.

“Well, last time he got you the pearl. Maybe we can find something in one of the books for species rituals. Seriously, we didn’t exhaust all our courting options with the potion.”

“The pearl was practically a proposal.”

“So, we find something that’s a proposal for werewolves. There has to be something out here. Chin up, Ariel. We’ll figure something out for your Beast,” Michael says, grinning.

“You’re mixing Disney movies, Tinker Bell.”

“Fuck you, I’m a Merryweather,” Michael says, mock offended, wide grin on his face. Luke rolls his eyes. He regrets making friends with Michael.

“Fine Merryweather. Show me in the direction of the books. Let's get started,” Luke says. He’s going to regret this, he knows.

***

Luke’s sure he has the perfect gift now. He and Michael looped through all the possibilities for days before landing on it. Luke still has the knife he tried to give Ashton months ago. He knows that Ashton won’t use it to hunt, but Luke still wants to extend the sentimentality and meaning of it to Ashton. Ashton gave him the pearl, practically proposed marriage and Luke wants to extend the same thing to Ashton. Show Ashton that he’s serious. It’s taken a little bit of time and effort, but with Michael and Calum’s help, Luke’s crafted a shadowbox for the knife. He polished the wood and put the box together, carving a little moon with Ashton’s initials in it and a little starfish with his in it. It wants it to be pretty, something that will remind Ashton of them, a display of their love (and, Luke selfishly thinks, something they can display in their future home).

He and Ashton are having their weekly date night at Ashton’s apartment. Luke prefers Ashton’s apartment. It doesn’t have Michael for one thing, but it feels more lived in. Luke’s place is messy, practically an extension of their store, filled with books and potions and anything else they can find. It never used to bother Luke, but now, after seeing Ashton’s apartment, filled with family photos, bits and pieces of his life, blankets, plants, and candles, Luke realizes that this is a home. That he never wants to leave Ashton’s apartment, wants to weave himself into Ashton’s life, add his seashells and seaglass to the collection of things Ashton has, wants to be a permanent part of Ashton’s life.

Luke’s clutching onto his gift in its little gift bag, approaching the door to Ashton’s apartment. Luke has only just raised his hand to knock on the door, when Ashton pulls it open, grinning. His curls are messy, falling into his eyes and he’s wearing an apron. It’s endearingly cute and Luke has no choice but to lean over, brushing the hair out of Ashton’s eyes and pressing a kiss to his nose. 

“Moonshine,” He says, giggling when Ashton pulls him close, burying his nose into Luke’s neck.

“Starfish.”

“How did you even know I was here?”

“Smelled the ocean wave down the hall. Only one person smells like that.”

“Sap,” Luke mumbles, tugging Ashton back and kissing him on the mouth. Ashton grins into the kiss, nipping at Luke’s bottom lip before pulling back. He grabs hold of Luke’s hand and tugs him inside and over to the dining table. Luke knows that Ashton never used to eat fish before Luke, just like Luke never used to eat meat, but they’ve been slowly adapting their tastes to fit each other. It looks like Ashton made some kind of stew tonight, smelling of potatoes and vegetables and fish. It warms Luke, knowing that Ashton made something he would like.

“And I made those ginger cookies for us later. The ones you liked last week,” Ashton says. Luke grins, settling in at the dinner table. Ashton goes around to the other chair, settling in. They swap stories back and forth, Ashton talking about how his day on site as a carpenter was, the table he’s building for a client, Luke talking about having to deal with the various witches who come into the store, thinking they know more than Luke and Michael.

Eventually, they finish their meal, clearing the table, Ashton washing the dishes, Luke drying them. Ashton makes tea when they’re done, carrying the two mugs and the plate of cookies over to the table.

“So, I have a gift for you,” Ashton says, clearing his throat. Luke glances up at Ashton, notices the blush on his cheeks.

“You do?”

“Yeah. I realized the last gift wasn’t the best and I talked with Michael, who had a really great idea.”

“What a coincidence. Michael also helped me plan my gift to you.”

“Michael’s a menace it would seem,” Ashton mumbles.

“Guess that depends on what the gift is,” Luke says. Ashton blushes even harder, turning around to picking the gift up off the counter behind them. It’s small, neatly wrapped in the same paper as before. Luke snorts, getting up to grab his gift off the table by the door and bringing it over. He places it in front of Ashton and sits back down, peeling the paper back on his.

Luke sucks in a breath when he realizes that it’s a rabbit’s foot. He picks it up gingerly, turning it over in his hands. He looks up at Ashton, ready to ask him about it and feels his breath catch in his throat when he realizes Ashton’s holding the shadowbox with the knife in it.

“Luke. You gave me the knife?” He whispers, looking up at Luke, meeting his eyes. Ashton’s look a little wet, like he’s close to crying, voice full of emotion.

“I know you don’t need it to hunt like I do, but it’s still an important part of my culture. It’s a courting gift and it’s important because it’s crafted to fit the person we want to be with. I designed it specifically for you back when I first gave it to you. Usually, you would use it to hunt, but since you don’t need to, I thought you could display it. See, I even carved our names into the outside. You practically proposed to me with the pearl and I wanted to do the same for you. I love you, in the forever kind of way. I want to be with you and I want you to have this knife,” Luke rushes out. He blushes when Ashton looks up at him again, glancing between the box and Luke’s face.

“Luke,” Ashton says again.

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good. So, so good. The rabbit’s foot is from that rabbit I gave you months ago. Michael apparently saved the foot and gave it to me cause he read about how important the rabbit is for us. He said I should give it to you as a gift and that it would make sense later. Now I get it,” Ashton says. 

Luke’s a little puzzled at that, looking between the rabbit’s foot and the knife before it clicks, “Oh, we can display the foot. We can display our love for everyone. Oh, Ashton.”

Luke leans across the table, pulling Ashton in for a kiss, soft and full of love. Ashton huffs against his lips, pulling back.

“Wait, did Michael just give you this idea?”

“Yeah, must have been a couple days again. I guess after you made the box.”

“So, did you literally come up with a gift idea that quickly?”

“Well, I had another idea before this.”

“What was it?”

“Check the wrapping,” Ashton says. Curious, Luke leans back, moving the paper. A key falls out, bright blue and covered in little waves.

“Is this...for here?”

“It’s a key to the apartment, yeah. I...I want you to move in. I mean, we’re engaged almost and it would be nice to come home to you. To know that you’ll always be here, that you’re not leaving. I want this to be your home, our home. I want to build a life with you and I want it to start here.”

Luke rushes around the table, pulling Ashton into a tight hug, pressing kisses to his face. Ashton laughs, returning the kisses happily.

“Yes, yes, a thousand times yes I’ll move in. I want never want to leave, I want to call this home, to put our shadowbox up on the wall for everyone to see, I want to argue with you over closet space and I want this to be home,” Luke says, pressing the words to Ashton’s skin in a quick succession of kisses.

“Well then, welcome home Luke. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Ashton,” Luke says, burying himself in close to Ashton, pressing his face into Ashton’s neck. He has a home, a place to call his, a life to build with Ashton, the love of his life. It’s the best gift he could have asked for.

[brieflygorgeouss]

Hiii, i love your writing ❤️ im waiting patiently for updates on your fic. But........ number 12 for the prompts bc i like angst

12. “please don’t do this” (you wanted angst, so here it is :’) part 2 of this is coming in a separate post!)

Lucas has made a mistake.

When it comes down to it, the whole thing is pretty simple. Lucas tries not to pay it much attention. In his day to day life, there’s very little space for those kinds of things. See, Lucas is a science guy, not a feelings guy. He likes facts, and undeniable truths, something he can lean on, knowing that it’s not just his own heart messing with him.

But then, sometimes there’s this — Eliott will turn his head just right when they’re hanging out in the park with everyone else, and the sunlight will catch in his hair. They’ll catch a glimpse of each other in the hallway and he’ll smile at Lucas with this horrible, breathtaking smile of his like it’s nothing. He’ll draw something on a napkin while they’re waiting for their coffee orders at Starbucks, then give it to Lucas, just because.

And in those moments, Lucas always thinks — maybe his heart is playing tricks, after all. If the way it stutters and aches is anything to go by.

*

Lucas has made a mistake and here it is — a throwback to three months ago. Lucas is standing in Eliott’s living room, late at night after they’ve just finished watching some weird Spanish movie, with his hair in his eyes and his heart in his throat, and he’s saying, ”I’m in love with you.”

Eliott is wearing an old t-shirt that hangs loosely enough around his neck to show his collar bones, and his hair is messy from where he kept running his hands through it. His eyes are huge. For a second, he looks at Lucas like he doesn’t believe him, and then he looks like he does believe him and something in his eyes lights up, burns like a flare and then dies down again. He’s turning to Lucas, in the next moment. Then, he’s saying, ”Listen, Lucas, I— I’m not—” and then, turning his eyes away, quieter, ”Please don’t do this.”

So. Fast forward to now — Lucas should have just stayed quiet.

*

”Hey,” Lucas hears from somewhere above him, ”I really like your jacket.”

When he lifts his head, there’s a guy standing by his table, with thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose and a small smile on his lips. Lucas is about 70 percent sure he has seen him around the library before. They’ve caught each other’s eyes once or twice while sitting at neighbouring tables and run into one another by the lockers downstairs. If he remembers correctly, that is.

He says, kind of unsure, ”Oh. Thanks.”

”We’ve seen each other around before, right?” the guy voices Lucas’s thoughts, which, in turn, makes Lucas wonder, again, if they really had. Maybe the Glasses Guy had even introduced himself. Lucas can’t remember his name. ”I’ve been meaning to tell you, this jacket is so cool. And also your hair.”

Lucas is not sure what to say to that, so he just keeps smiling, a little plasticky. ”Thank you.”

”Would you mind if I joined you?” the Glasses Guy says, gesturing at the empty seat across from Lucas. 

”Uhm. I’m, actually. I’m kinda waiting for someone.”

There’s a beat of silence when they just keep looking at each other, Lucas having nothing else to add and the guy waiting for him to probably do so. 

”Oh,” he says after a few seconds, takes an awkward step back. ”I’ll leave you to it, then. Sorry.”

”See you around,” Lucas barely manages to get out, and then the guy is gone, just as quickly as he appeared in the first place. Lucas follows him with his eyes until he rounds the corner and disappears, then he lays his head on the table. It’s smooth under his cheek.

Then, a thumping noise startles him enough to sit back up.

Imane slides into the chair across from him, already busying herself with flipping through one of the approximately 50 books she brought with her, before saying, without lifting her gaze from the pages, ”You do realise that he was flirting with you, right?”

Lucas plays with the corner of his notebook’s cover. ”Yes,” he mutters. ”But I’m—you know. I’m here with you.”

He looks up at Imane just in time to see her roll her eyes, exasperated. ”It has nothing to do with that. You could have at least asked for his number or something.”

”Maybe I didn’t want his number,” Lucas says, and it comes out a little defensive. His phone buzzes with a notification so he busies himself with that instead of looking at Imane’s questioning expression. ”Maybe I’m not interested.”

”Lucas,” Imane says, this time looking straight at him and he can feel the weight of her eyes somewhere on his face. He locks his phone, then unlocks it, locks it again, just to pretend to be doing something. ”It’s really not my business, but he was exactly the type of guys you usually go for.”

Yeah, Lucas thinks, puts his phone away, screen down. Tall and messy-haired and smiling at strangers. Lucas knows this, and Imane knows this just as well. When he looks at her, the disappointed lines of her face clear as day, he knows what she’ll say even before she says it.

”You have to try to move on,” Imane tells him. It sounds softer than what Lucas was expecting. Imane’s eyes are soft, too, like Lucas rarely gets to see, dim with something he doesn’t want to think too much about. 

Lucas thinks, I know. I know.

It’s not like he hasn’t been trying. It’s not like he’s too stubborn to make this kind of effort. After Eliott turned him down, he hid away for a moment, turned off his phone and locked himself in his room until Manon and Mika almost drove him nuts with their constant knocking on the door and are you feeling better’s but right now, he’s all good. The past is the past. Lucas really tries his best to not think too much about how Eliott’s expression looked when he confessed, or how he could barely look Lucas in the eye at all, or how Lucas has spent the entire walk home stubbornly wiping his tears away that night, even though they just kept and kept coming.

Those are all his memories, his and no one else’s, but he doesn’t want them. Revisiting that would be like poking at a bruise — causing unnecessary pain. Not letting a wound heal fully like it should.

And that’s what Lucas has been doing. Healing. He just needs some time.

”I have moved on,” he says stubbornly, not wanting to hear any more of Imane’s too-soft tone, then thinks, I am moving on. I am. ”Anyway, can we get started?”

He gestures to the books that Imane has brought. She shoots him another look, one that lasts a second too long, but then just nods without any further comments.

For the next two hours, they talk about something else.

*

On Saturday, the sweltering heat finally dies down to something resembling nice breezy summer. Lucas wakes up to sunlight filtering through the curtains and specks of dust swirling in the air where they’re visible in the light. He drags himself out to the kitchen, and it’s early enough for no-one else to be up yet, so he makes himself a coffee and a sandwich and takes the breakfast to the balcony, just because he feels like it. There’s a dog barking somewhere, and a few cars driving by. He can hear someone laughing, sharp and bright and quick.

Then, his phone buzzes with a text notification.

It is, because that’s just Lucas’s life, from Eliott. hi, it reads, are you free tonight?

Lucas is. He doesn’t want to say he’s always free for Eliott because he isn’t supposed to think that way anymore, but somewhere in the back of his head, it rings true whether he likes it or not. 

sure, he texts back. want to hang out?

Because, see — they’re still friends. They can still be friends. It’s what he told Eliott that awful night he confessed, after Eliott, beautiful and so, so gentle, turned him down, looking like he was about to cry himself. I don’t want to ruin what we have, Lucas had told him, sounding a little shaky, feeling a little like a child, silly and overdramatic and inexperienced. I’ll get over this. I promise I will.

He can’t blame Eliott for not loving him back. Love is not something you can force yourself to feel. And Eliott never asked for any of this, never asked for any of those messy, overwhelming feelings that Lucas just couldn’t keep a hold on. There was never a reason for Lucas to count on anything, really.

As he finishes up his coffee, he looks over the railing of the balcony. There are two girls in the middle of the sidewalk downstairs, talking about something as they walk. One of them is gesturing animatedly, and the other nods from time to time, and then Lucas watches as she, unexpectedly, catches the other girl’s hand in hers and presses a quick kiss to her knuckles. Her expression is fond, then only grows fonder when the other girl’s face creases up in a smile.

Lucas turns his eyes away.

There is a theory he’s spent a lot of time reading about, a theory that he likes. It’s about alternate universes. According to the theory, there’s an infinite amount of worlds just like this one, somewhere out there, only slightly different. Lucas likes to imagine them, sometimes, because it makes him feel at peace — a world where he still lives in his old house. A world where his parents never split up in the first place. A world where everything is the same, except his eyes are green instead of blue. 

i’ll pick you up at 9, Eliott writes back, and then sends another message. It’s a heart.

Lucas stares at it until the screen of his phone goes dark.

”You have to try to move on” is just a nice way of saying ”He’ll never love you back”. Lucas knows this. That’s okay. It feels a little pathetic, this whole ordeal, but then again, it’s been almost exactly three months since he confessed. He’s had enough time to swallow the hurt down. Bury it somewhere where no-one else would see. 

According to the multiverse theory, besides the universe where Lucas’s family stayed together or where his eyes are a different colour, there also must be a universe where, somehow, Eliott loves him back. 

It’s not a bad thought. If some other Lucas managed to get everything that this Lucas doesn’t have, then, well. Good for him. It’s not like Lucas is unhappy. He’s okay.

Three months is enough to get over someone. 

*

A throwback again, to the same time and the same place: Lucas thought he had a chance. He thought there was something in the air that night that made things possible. He came over to Eliott’s just to hang out like they’ve done times and times before. Eliott let Lucas pick the movie, then promptly retracted the offer when Lucas said, ”Can we watch Green Lantern?” and they ended up on the couch with a bowl of popcorn in Lucas’s lap and Eliott’s head leaning against Lucas’s shoulder. Eliott was busy explaining the individual shots that he really liked. Lucas was busy making comments and stuffing his face with popcorn and looking at Eliott instead of the actual film. It was nice. They were comfortable and close and talking in hushes voices, leaning into their shared space. Lucas thought he had a chance.

He never did, apparently.

*

At 9, when Lucas gets downstairs, trying to put on a jacket and simultaneously stuff his keys into the back pocket of his jeans, Eliott is already there. The sun has just gone down, and in the thinning out light, he looks like someone out of a dream. Lucas smiles when Eliott turns his head at the sound of the front door of the building opening, then closing. 

”Hi,” Eliott says, already grinning as well, and pushes himself away from the wall he was leaning against, then stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket, like he’s shy. Something quivers in Lucas’s chest and he smothers it.

”Hi,” he answers, looking up at where Eliott’s still smiling at him. ”So, what’s the plan?”

Eliott shrugs, then raises an eyebrow with a glint in his eyes. ”Let’s see where the night takes us?”

And Lucas, laughing a little, says, ”Okay,” and falls into step next to him as they go, shoulder to shoulder, almost close enough to brush.

In reality, not much has changed. That’s something Lucas is really proud of, actually. Apart from the first few awkward days where they acted around each other like strangers and a few sad moments Lucas has to swallow down every now and again, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. They joke around, and Lucas shoves Eliott away when he starts to make fun of how Lucas should probably get a haircut but refuses to, and then they get on a bus and sit in the seats right next to each other, their heads bent together. The whole bus is empty. Lucas keeps stealing glances at where Eliott’s profile reflects in the glass of the window.

This is exactly what Lucas doesn’t want to ruin. This — Eliott being so laid-back and relaxed around him, laughing freely, bright. In moments like these, Lucas feels more himself than he does anywhere else. He can’t afford to lose it, everything they have, how well they work together, just because he’s looking for the sun at midnight, just because he was stupid enough to fall in love.

And at one point, when he asks about one of Eliott’s art projects, Eliott suddenly whips his head around, and, eyes huge, says, as if enlightened, ”Oh my God. I know where I’m gonna take you.”

”Oh, yeah?” Lucas says, and then lets his smile widen a fraction. ”Let me guess, is it McDonald’s?”

”Shut up,” Eliott mutters, his own smile widening, too. ”That was only once.”

Lucas laughs, then, and looks and looks, at the curve of Eliott’s smile and at the slight colour high in his cheeks, until they get to the next stop and Eliott drags him out of the bus.

*

They only talked about the confession once, during a party at Emma’s, at the very end of their awkward phase. Lucas came out there to finally head home after moping in the corner for hours on end and spoiling his friends’ moods. Eliott was simply already there. They ended up sitting on the pavement with the party music pouring from the speakers from behind the closed front door, huddled close. Lucas remembers feeling relieved at the proximity, and also like someone punched him in the gut. 

”Do you have any idea,” Eliott asked him then, quiet under the night sky, sitting so close that Lucas was half-afraid he might do something stupid, ”what it’s like to be told that by someone like you?” And then, shaking his head, quieter, ”I don’t deserve that at all, Lucas. Not from you. I wouldn’t be good for you, you— you’re just so—”

Lucas said, then, unsure of how to respond but desperately wishing for things to just fall into place again, ”It’s okay, Eliott,” even though it wasn’t, even though it was nowhere near as easy. He kept thinking, why can’t you just tell me that you don’t feel the same?

”It’s not okay,” Eliott told him then, looking a little broken and so, so sad. ”I just—I wish it was different.”

Me, too, Lucas thought but didn’t say it.

”We’ll figure it out, Eliott,” he only said instead, proud of how sure he sounded even when did not feel like it as he got up, because it was time to go home. And even if there was something in Eliott’s gaze when their eyes met, something heavy and dim and unsettled, Lucas decided to write it off as a trick of the light. ”We will.”

*

They end up, somehow, in an art gallery.

Or something of sorts, anyway. Lucas doesn’t know why it’s still open and running at 9:30 at night, but it’s nice, he guesses, or as nice as an art gallery can get, anyway. There aren’t many people here, and Eliott claims that the exhibition is something he’s seen before and liked very much, so Lucas lets himself be taken by the hand and lead inside and only complains a little bit, just for show.

Eliott’s hand is warm in his, and for a second, Lucas allows himself a bluff. A what-if. Between one breath and then next, he can pretend they’re something else. Then, he moves his hand away first and ignores the look Eliott sends his way.

He doesn’t know much about art, arguably. He was never good at it, because, again — he’s a science guy. And there are many paintings here that he doesn’t understand, full of sharp lines and patches of colour, but they’re pretty. He stops in front of a painting of the sunrise, soft and full of light, full of blues and pinks and muted oranges and stands and just looks until Eliott finds him.

”What do you think?” he asks, stopping just shy of Lucas’s shoulder. He sounds curious but also a little nervous. Lucas doesn’t really understand why, so he just brushes it off.

”It’s nice, I guess,” he says, still looking at the painting, but then shifts his eyes onto Eliott and discovers that his expression is just as bright as the landscape on the canvas in front of him. ”I don’t know why you chose an art gallery as a form of entertainment for me, though. I’m not really big on places like that.”

”I’m aware,” Eliott chuckles, but then, startlingly, ducks his head and shrugs like he always does when he’s shy. ”But the first time I saw it, I thought of you, and—I wanted to bring you here. To see it, too.”

And—oh.

Lucas kind of just…stops. At that.

Because, you see — he’s been trying his best. He’s been careful and withdrawn and afraid, just a little, of reminding Eliott of what he’d said, of how he feels, when Eliott made it so, so clear that he doesn’t want that. That he doesn’t want whatever Lucas has to give, whatever Lucas took and tried to push into his hands that night three months ago, all of his crushing, throbbing feelings, this whole mess. And he’s been doing well. Most of the time, it’s almost like nothing ever happened. Lucas is okay. Lucas has been making progress. 

But every once in a while Eliott does or says something — texts him a heart or takes him by the hand or says ”Do you have some time” or ”I saw it and thought of you”, take him to look at art because it’s something he wants to share with Lucas and Lucas alone, and all the painstaking progress he has made goes teetering down, down and back to square one. 

Lucas doesn’t know how many times he’ll be able to take it. There is something lodged in his chest that suddenly makes breathing difficult. He thinks, I’m so stupid. So, so dumb.

Something must show on his face, or maybe he’s been quiet for too long, or maybe Eliott just knows him too well, because he asks, rocking on his feet, his voice tentative, ”Do you like it? Here, I mean?”

What does it matter to you, Lucas thinks, but swallows the words down, because they wouldn’t be fair. Eliott cares, is all. He knows that. They’re friends.

”I like it, yeah,” he answers instead, then watches another smile break across Eliott’s face, impossible, prettier than all the art in the room.

Lucas thinks back to the balcony, to the girls he saw on the sidewalk in the morning, to fond smiles and kisses pressed to knuckles, to feeling like he was intruding on something he had no right to, and feels like Eliott and his smile and this whole goddamn scene is another thing like that. Something stolen that does not belong to him. Something that is not meant to be his at all.

”I’m glad,” Eliott tells him. His words sound nothing but sincere.

They move onto another painting.

*

But maybe the truth is this — Lucas is tired of feeling like him being in love has become something to be ashamed of. Before, he’d thought that now when Eliott knew, maybe the feeling of it all would lessen, would become less biting, simmer down to friendship again, but it didn’t. It’s still there, no matter what he does, whether he covers it up or screams it from the rooftops, and he’s tired of hiding something everyone knows about anyway.

It’s not fair, pretending he never confessed, when it took so much courage and strength and nerve. 

*

It’s not much of a revelation, really, but Lucas can’t help but feel very, very dumb. He meets up with Imane again and can barely look at her, keeps thinking, you were right, you were right as always. He goes to class, and to work, and spends the evenings lying on the couch, watching reruns of old TV shows with Mika and Lisa arguing over whose turn it is to choose the channel this time. It’s not bad. The acute awareness of I’m still in love doesn’t change much. 

Except when Eliott texts him now, he barely even answers and doesn’t pick up when he calls and lies that he’s busy when Manon suggests that they all go out together. It’s awful, and it makes him feel guilty and like a failure, but he doesn’t know what else to do. It’s all he has left, he tells himself, because Eliott is not his to have. He’s been reading too much into his smiles, and his soft touch, and how bright his eyes get sometimes, into little drawings on coffee cups and text messages saying, let me know when you get home safe.

It’s just how Eliott is. And if Lucas can’t do anything about his stupid wishful thinking, if what Eliott can offer is not enough for him, then maybe it’s better if he doesn’t get anything at all.

It’s sad, in the beginning, but he likes to think he withdraws slowly. The unanswered texts pile up on his phone one by one, and Manon asks less and less about why he doesn’t hang out with them as much anymore, and once, when he sees Eliott in the hallway in-between his classes, he shoots him a smile and scrambles out of sight before anything else can happen.

He misses Eliott so goddamn much. It grows in his chest like vines, this ache, winds around everything else he feels and taints it. But Lucas only allows himself to feel it when it’s late into the night and the apartment is quiet and his thoughts have nowhere else to go. Because, again — Eliott is not his to have. Not his to miss. This is not a universe where they’re together.

He just needs to get it into his head.

*

And then, one night as he’s getting off his shift and closing up, stepping into the dark of the streets, Eliott is, for some reason, there.

He looks slightly unsure of himself, as if the sun, when it went down, took away the usual bright aura he radiates. His hands are in his pockets, and his hair is a mess. He’s chewing on his bottom lip and something flits across his face when he realises Lucas has spotted him, but then he comes up to where Lucas is standing with the keys still dangling from his hands, in big, quick strides like he’s afraid Lucas will run off, as if he has anywhere to go.

”Can we talk?” is the first thing Eliott says. 

So they talk.

It feels a little bit like the conversation they had after Lucas confessed, the one when Eliott had told him ”I wouldn’t be good for you”, the one when Lucas had said, ”We’ll figure it out,” only to fuck up everything even more in the end. They wander through the streets in silence at first, Lucas unsure of what exactly is happening and stupidly happy to see Eliott again, almost despite himself, all at the same time. He can’t help but steal glances at Eliott’s profile, coloured golden in the light of the street lamps. 

Then, Eliott says, ”So. You’ve been avoiding me.”

It’s not really a question. Lucas supposes that’s fair, since his behaviour left so little room for doubt. He holds the confirmation like breath in his lungs, then lets it out as a sigh. ”Sorry.”

If Eliott was expecting him to deny, it doesn’t show on his face. Lucas watches him lick his lips. ”Did I—” Eliott stutters. ”Did I do something? Did I say something stupid?”

Something unfurls in Lucas’s chest, then, the vines grow and grow and make it a little bit harder to breathe. 

None of this is Eliott’s fault. That’s what Lucas keeps thinking as they walk, as Eliott waits for an answer, as they keep looking at each other like that could serve as a reply instead. None of this is on Eliott. It’s all Lucas and his stupid, stupid heart, him looking for the sun at midnight, him reading too much into Eliott’s kindness, because he just never learns. That’s all.

”No,” he says, looks down on his feet, then up again. ”You didn’t do anything.”

”Then what’s wrong?” is what comes next. Lucas breathes in, breathes out. ”Are you alright?”

”Yeah,” he says. I was just busy, he wants to say, with school and work, you know how it is. But that would be a lie. He was never too busy for Eliott before. Maybe that was the very first mistake in all of this. ”I’m okay.”

”Then—” Eliott starts, quietly, and doesn’t finish. Why, is what he really wants to say; Lucas realises that but pretends that he doesn’t, only walks alongside Eliott and waits for him to speak again, looks at the pattern of light-dark-light as they pass the street lamps. Then, Eliott takes a breath, looks ahead. ”I know it’s not really my business,” he says, ”but—we’re okay, right? Because I feel like I did something. I just— I really miss you.”

And just like that, it’s too much. It’s too much.

Lucas says, ”I’m still in love with you.”

Eliott turns his head fast, surprised. He stops walking. Lucas slows down, too, stands centimetres from where another streetlamp is casting yellowish light on the nearby building. Eliott looks dumb-struck and a little scared, and Lucas looks at him and thinks that he has no right to, because it’s not like he didn’t know. It’s not like Lucas didn’t tell him.

And here they are again, a different time and a different place but the same two people and the same situation. Here he is, defeated and pathetic and like he’s stuck in some sort of fucking loop. It’s so unfair, he thinks, his chest suddenly too small for his heart, too tight for his lungs. So unfair.

”I know you don’t want to hear it,” he goes on when Eliott doesn’t say anything but just stands frozen still, his expression twisted into something Lucas is afraid to work through, ”and I’m sorry. I really tried to keep things how they used to be, but I can’t. I tried to stop—” A breath. Lucas feels shaky. ”I tried to stop feeling the way I do because I didn’t want to ruin anything, but I can’t. Not when you keep acting the way you do and keep saying all those things—”

”What things?”

Eliott sounds very small. Like he isn’t sure what to say but needs to say something anyway, like he’s scared. Lucas is scared, too, just a bit. All the words he says sound like coming from underwater.

”That you miss me,” he hears himself answer and only half-registers that it is really his own voice that’s sounding so strange. ”That you think of me. Everything, I don’t know.” His next breath sounds watery, and Lucas isn’t crying, but he’s almost there. He tries to push through it. ”It’s not like you don’t realise that, right? I know it’s easier to just pretend I never said anything, but the truth is that I did. We both know that. I don’t think it’s fair to pretend everything is still the same.”

Eliott casts his eyes down. It takes him a moment to say, ”No. It’s not fair.”

And Lucas, stupidly, because for just a second he can’t help it, thinks about some other universe, then, where a different Lucas and a different Eliott are happy. Where they kiss on street corners and hold hands as they walk down the sidewalks and where some other Lucas is allowed, impossibly, to lift some other Eliott’s hand to his lips and press a kiss there, too, or to his cheek, to the curve of his jaw. 

”I meant what I said about still being friends,” he says after a while, and it burns in his throat, but in this universe, it’s all he gets. ”It’s still important to me. I just need to work through it all, so that we can go back to how things really used to be, this time.“ He licks his lips. "I don’t want to ruin this any more than I already did.”

”Lucas, you didn’t—” Eliott sounds almost as bad as he does. Lucas doesn’t think about the reason. ”You didn’t ruin anything, listen, I—”

”I just need some more time,” he cuts in, because he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to handle Eliott saying ”Please don’t do this” one more time, if that’s what Eliott wants to tell him. ”Some time and some space and I’ll really—try and just. You won’t have to listen to it again. I promise.”

Eliott is quiet, then. The vines in Lucas’s chest grow and grow until there’s no more room left.

”I’d take it back if I could,” Lucas says after a moment because it’s the truth, and it feels important, somehow, that Eliott knows. He’d take it all back. All of his scattered, burning, unwanted feelings and keep them away, safe and only for him to deal with. ”I would. But I can’t. I’m sorry that I need so much time.”

For a second, Eliott looks like he wants to say something, but whatever is it, it never leaves his mouth.

So in the end, Lucas only says, ”See you later,” and then goes.

[kimshavacado]

Dead Heat Ch.6

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Language, Alcohol, Awkwardness

A/N:  It’s good to be back! I’m so glad to continue this story, I have such great plans for it. While writing this chapter, I fell in love with Yoongi again. I hope you do too! 

Chapter 6: Fucking Sandwiches?

When you wake up, you find yourself more rested than you’ve been in a long time. You choose to attribute this to being exhausted the past few days. 

Although, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t sarting to get comfortable where you are. The thought flies right through you mind with little consideration  as your brain catches up with the beginning of the day. 

You throw on a hoodie and trudge out the door and down the hall. Honestly, you’re feeling good today. There’s no one source of your serenity, but you decide it doesn’t matter. After holding in so many emotions it’s good to be open about the positive ones.

When you get downstairs, you realize you are probably without a breakfast partner. You look at your watch and see that it’s already past 10, he would’ve left hours ago. 

You brush off your slight disappointment until you go looking for breakfast and find that there’s really nothing to eat. Your good mood day is already starting to crumble and you haven’t even had your morning tea yet. 

You find yourself the biggest mug in the cabinet and start making a cup of tea that’s big enough to offset your lack of food. You walk through the kitchen towards your tea spot in the living room, but stop dead in your tracks at the dining table. There lays a box of poptarts with a note. 

“This is all we have, don’t be a pig about it. I’ll pick up more food on my way home early this afternoon. We’ll do something nicer for dinner. -Yoongi.”

Rude, but also intriguing. You could really go for a nice dinner tonight. Now, not many things are nicer than a box of poptarts but you’re happy to see him try. 

You listen to Yoongi’s words and only grab one bag of poptarts as you continue making your way to your tea spot. 

It’s a quiet day spent reading on the porch and dining tea. The reading helps your mind drift from reality and offers a nice break from your world. You’ve also made it a challenge to drink as much tea as possible. 

By two in the afternoon your in your fifth cup, not that bad. You think that had you kept drinking you could’ve made it to about eight cups before dinner. That or enough for Yoongi to think you had some obscure tea drinking problem. 

You’re about to grab a sixth when you hear the man himself pull up in his sleek black car. You expect him to exit the car in his regular formal manner, but are instead surprised to see a very casual dressed Yoongi almost slip out of the car. He doesn’t notice your brief snort.

“You look very relaxed.” He calls up to the porch.

“As do you.” You fire back. “Maybe a bit too much.”

He raises an amused eyebrow at you as he walks past and into the house. “Change into something casual.” He says while continuing down the hall.“But less casual than pajamas, please." 

You’re suddenly filled with excitement at the recollection of the promised dinner. You pack up your book and tea as you rush inside to get ready.

The ultimate challenge is now dressing correctly. You have to find a way to look cute, but not like you’re trying to for him, but still be casual, but also fit for some mystery place you don’t know of yet. It’s actually very inconsiderate of him to attempt to surprise you. Doesn’t he know the location dictates the clothing? 

After about fifteen minutes of mindless staring into your closet, you hear a knock at your door.

"I need your help downstairs.” Yoongi’s muffled voice comes through.

“I’m not ready yet.” You reply.

“What? How?”

“I… just…I need to change still.”

“My god. Please do not tell me you’ve been spending this whole time trying to pick something to wear.”

”…“

You hear Yoongi sigh on the other side of the door and are about to just suck it up and pick a random outfit when Yoongi surprises you again. 

"Do you like… want help? Am I supposed to help in this situation?”

"Absolutely not, I’m capable of making basic decision.”

“Clearly not if you’re still in there. How are you supposed to run an empire if you can’t even pick an outfit?” “What!? They’re completely different decisions!” “But one’s far more complex than which dress you should wear to dinner.” At this you storm towards the door while saying, “Well you never said I should wear a dress! That would’ve narrowed it down!” When you open the door you find Yoongi smiling amusing, knowing how well he’s riled you up. “Aw that’s cute, our first fight.” You use your palm to push his face back out the door and close it again behind him. After he’s quiet for a couple moments, you turn around and find yourself smiling when you should be annoyed. You grab the light blue dress you haven’t worn since you left home. You really do look good in blue. 

You finally make it out of your room and ready to go 10 minutes later sporting a casual night out look. What you find downstairs is something that leaves you with a blank stare. Yoongi has a bunch of groceries spread out all over the kitchen. It looks like some battleground of food that you definitely aren’t trained to traverse.

Yoongi looks at you with a stupid grin on his face. “Sandwiches.” He says while flapping a slice of bread in front of you. “This… is the nice dinner? Sandwiches.” You say, a bit in disbelief. “I dressed up for making sandwiches in my own kitchen.” “No, you dressed up for me.” You’re now frozen with a blank stare for a different reason and Yoongi’s face is still stuck with that stupid grin. “Just come on and help, there’s gotta be some kind of sandwich you want.” He nods you over to the spot next to him. You don’t know what’s going on, he has to be off in the head or something. Nevertheless, you find yourself making a sandwich, and a pretty damn good one at that. When you’ve created what you view as the perfect sandwich, Yoongi has the audacity to take it right out of your hands. “The hell…” You stand with your hand still grasping at the ghost of a sandwich that was once there as Yoongi adds your creation to a large bag that contains more prepared food. He zips it up and slings the long strap attached to it over his shoulder. “Alright, let’s go!” He announces while walking out of the kitchen. “Oh, so we’re taking sandwiches hostage now?” You say as you follow him out of the house. He puts the food into the car and goes to hold the car door open for you. You stop to glare suspiciously at him. He wasn’t going to tell you where you were going, this much you can predict. You give in and slide into the passenger seat, but you can stop the feeling of excitement in your gut. About 30 minutes later, Yoongi’s driven so far out of town that you’ve lost track of where you are. The windows of the car are down and the cool evening air is flowing all around you. The two of you have been really quiet. It’s not uncomfortable, but calming You relax further into the seat. “I just realized, it would be extremely easy for you to murder me right now. Middle of nowhere, no one knows, easy target.” Yoongi blinks a few times. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He says, looking straight at you. You both smirk.

In a couple more minutes you reach your destination. You peer out of the car and your mouth falls open. In front of you there’s a secluded grass area with trees surrounding it. Just over the shallow curve of the ground, you can see the city below. So alive but so far away. You stare for half of a minute until looking to your side and find Yoongi looking at you with that face again. “I want you to know that this is cheesy and stupid and I fucking hate it.” You say as large smile creeps its way onto your face and he mirrors you. “Would it make it better if I said I wouldn’t murder you?” He responds. “Ah, how chivalrous.” For a moment you stare at him before suddenly bolting out of the car for the field. You lose your shoes and keep running until you reach the center and lie straight on the ground. You feel like a child released into the wild. You take in the breeze until you hear Yoongi’s complaints coming towards you. “That’s okay, I got it. No need to get up off your ass.” He says as he tosses the stuff from the car onto the ground beside you. “Why did we come here?” You ask looking up at him from the ground. He sighs looking away from you towards the city. He just smiles and leans down to start unpacking as you let your question die out.

Sandwiches eaten and sun setting, you decide to revisit your earlier curiosity. “So what happened? Watch too many disney movies and suddenly trying to be all gooey?”

He scoffs. “Look you’ve been through a lot. I could tell you could use some time away from reality. Plus the view’s amazing up here once there’s no light left.”

Yoongi reaches into the endless bag and pulls out a bottle of wine. And you’re glad, maybe booze will make this seem less tacky.

You have what would normally be tea time but with alcohol instead and rant about things of little importance. Yoongi’s generally quiet, but he can really get going when triggered.

“I swear to god if one more person trashes on pineapple pizza, I will bury their corpses with my bear hands.”

“Wow Yoongi, that was unexpectedly dark of you.”

Eventually you fall silent as you look up from your picnic location. It’s then you realize he wasn’t talking about the view of the city.

All the way out here the lights don’t pollute the sky as much. There are so many more stars populating the sky out here than you’ve ever seen. Looking at it seems overwhelming for many reasons.

He took you here. Yoongi brought you here to bring back memories and make you feel better. It wasn’t done to make up for or fix anything, he just did it for you. It’s stupid and not that hard to do, but it catches you right where it matters.

“Holy shit.” He’s definitely gotten to you with his awkward acts of selflessness, his banter, and his stupid face. And for a split second you have hope for the way that things will turn out for you, but then you’re reminded of all the shit you’re supposed to be worrying about. 

“Um…” You hear Yoongi’s voice next to you and realize you’ve dramatically sat up and are staring at the ground. “You okay? You look like you just had some sort of crisis, or something.”

You can barely make out his expression in the dark but you can tell he probably has his eyebrows furrowed in worry. 

It’s very unlike you to feel like you need someone else. But you realize just how glad you are to have Yoongi in this moment.

Without words, you crawl closer until you are right next to him and pull his face into yours. Your lips meet for a solid 5 seconds before you slowly pull away. 

You’re glad it’s dark enough to not be able to reveal your blushed face afterwards. You stay by him and settle your head onto his shoulder. You take it as a good sign when he leans into you as well.

Let’s just hope this doesn’t bite you in your ass.

During the drive home you fall asleep in the car. It’s a good way to avoid having to talk to him about your actions earlier. Unfortunately, it’s short lived because he wakes you up after he pulls up to the house.

“Come on, I’m not gonna carry you in. You’re like a brick.” The wit is a good sign that he’s not weirded out, but you’re not conscious enough to worry about that right now. He helps lead you up the front steps but stops near the top.

Oh, no. Here it comes, the confrontation. Right now you don’t have the mental capacity to formulate responses to any questions about your feelings. “Look” You begin.

“Shh.” Yoongi hisses at you.

You pout at his rudeness until you notice that he’s pulled his gun out and is pointing it at the suspiciously open front door. Well you’re suddenly awake now. You tuck yourself behind Yoongi, very curious but also still tipsy meaning you’re not at all helpful in any dangerous situation.

“Go back to the car Y/N.” You know better than to argue and jog back to the vehicle. Once you’re in, he nudges the door open and slips inside.

It must’ve only been five minutes, but it feels like an excruciating amount of time. You almost jump when he sticks his body out of the door to beckon you inside.

“What was it? Anything?” You call up to him.

When you reach the door you can see into the main hall now that the lights are on. All you can do is stare at the blood streak on the floor.

“I promise it’s okay. You should probably go to bed and we’ll talk in the morning.”

A million questions run through your head. Was he not going to mention the fact that it looks like someone died? “Yoongi, is there a body? Is it one of ours?”

Yoongi sighs and looks at the streak. “I have some things to take care of.” Before you can register it, he walks over and places a kiss on your forehead. “Just try to get some sleep.”

God, what a reminder of the fucked up world you live in.

A/N: I hope y'all are ready for some more Jimin next chapter ;)

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds @xxqueenwxtchxx @alecmidnight

[coinofstone]

On Balls and Sticks

Just FYI I dug this out of an abandoned 14x10 post that’s been sitting in my drafts for a year.  Now, my swiss cheese brain doesn’t remember if anyone’s already covered this, so apologies if I’m rehashing someone else’s work. This was part of a much longer post analyzing the shit out of the set dec in these scenes, which I ended up abandoning because I couldn’t get the images to work. Now that I’ve solved that dilemma, I may revisit the post in its entirety in the future, but after seeing the ‘Drowning’ video Shaving People Punting Things posted, I had to dig this back up. For now, I want to talk about this shot:

At the time it stuck out to me because it’s so deliberate, but also so seemingly odd, random, until I stared at the pool table for a while. Is it insane to analyze billiard balls to this extent? Maybe, but here we are. This is the section I originally wrote on this shot:

All hail Amanda Tapping. Now I didn’t catch this shot, other than noticing that it seemed odd for what it was shooting - but that’s because the pesky dialog and characters in the background aren’t the goddamn point. I’ve gotta give @naruhearts @thetwistedwillow​ and @castielslostwings all the credit in the world for a) bringing this up and b) midwiving this shit out of me. The first thing I’ll bring up is the (white) cue ball and (black) 8 ball being positioned across from each other, easily interpreted to represent good and evil. The three numbered balls positioned defensively, or perhaps defiantly, in a row in the middle: green stripe (Dean), blue stripe (Castiel) and maroon solid (Sam). The Dean and Cas balls are stripes, but the Sam ball is a solid. To me, it’s intentionally differentiating Sam from Dean and Cas - those two have something in common with each other that they do not share with Sam. (Hint: it’s romantic love.) This is especially notable considering the maroon color of Sam’s ball is also available in a striped ball in any given set. The cue stick between the white ball and the numbered balls indicating the divide separating TFW and good - God and his self-imposed restriction from meddling in human affairs - evil (8 ball) has no such restriction, while still being in opposition to or confrontation with the colored balls. So TFW is left to fight evil or Lucifer without assistance from God or Heaven.  Additionally, the lights above the table - notice how there is three framed together and one on the opposite side of the pillar? One off on its own. Anyone who has read my Jack Meta piece knows that this episode spent a good chunk of time painting Jack as ‘other’ in the context of TFW. I believe this also represents that, three lights (Dean, Cas, Sam) together and one, the same but separated (Jack). Dean, Pamela, and ‘drunk’ vamp are also framed together within that shot - further representing three together, as well as the three stools and the three beer taps. These don’t have the single lone figure off to the side, (though the stools might, there IS one on the other side of that post but honestly it’s not really a focal point in this shot) so I think it’s more about the unity of the three than it is about the isolation of one. There is a whole load of actual color meta that can be read from this, but I’m not going to go into that here.

Now, the benefit of hindsight here is that I can pat myself on the back for the stuff about Jack being framed as ‘other’, but the real treat is that now I can look back on this and go ‘Wait! the fucking pool cue is Jack too!’ - I’ve specced that the ultimate endgame move for the show will be to have Jack resurrected at full power and use those powers to defeat a weakened Chuck, possibly locking him away like Chuck had once done to Amara, but more likely just locking him the fuck out of our universe. Looking back at this, I think it’s plausible that however it’s done, Chuck is going to be cut off from the rest of our world by Jack, much like the cue ball is cut off from the others by the pool stick in the shot above. While this does slightly alter my original perception of the visual narrative in this shot, foreshadowing God being cut off from the rest of our world deliberately by Jack versus Chuck cutting himself off from our world and the boys’ fight against evil, one thing remains the same - it’s still TFW vs evil, unrestricted. I’m taking this to indicate that by the end, they’ll not have sealed off Hell completely, or permanently rid the world of monsters, but they will still be there to fight them, or (hopefully) advise and assist others who choose to do so, in a more supervisory capacity. Interestingly, now that we know Rowena sits on the throne as the Queen of Hell, given her own character journey it’s entirely possible that there is a further layer to the positioning of the balls in this shot. Evil, or in this case, the Queen of Hell herself, could very possibly be read to be... on the same side as TFW against Chuck, you could say, backing them, even... Now there’s an interesting thought. Well, time will tell, anyway.

Now, I know you’re saying, ‘But Coin, why the fuck are you rambling about a shot of balls from over a year ago, now? What’s this got to do with the Drowning video? Why are you posting two separate analyses in one night when you usually average about one post per year?’ WELL. I’ll tell you, since you’ve asked so nicely. It was another blink-and-you’ll-miss-it shot from the Drowning promo video, but I would’ve shot up from my seat in triumph when I saw it, had my sciatica not been acting up. Behold, my validation:

What’s that you say? I’m insane you say? Well, you’re not wrong, but neither am I:

Look I spent like three days teaching myself to make gifs from blu-rays I haven’t figured out how to make the words I add to pictures shrink legibly when I resize for tumblr and I’m not gonna figure that shit out tonight, so just - it’s the fuckin balls again. The TFW balls are positioned with Dean and Cas together and Sam slightly off on his own, one space away from Dean. Maybe the orange solid ball between them is Eileen, GASP! maybe it’s Rowena because GINGER, maybe I just need to go to bed, but I’m NOT seeing things.

I’m just sayin’, man. The fuckin DeanCas balls wanna be together.The Sam ball wants to be slightly off on his own. Who is Sam even playing pool with he has no friends. I’m not going to sit here and suggest they set up like a trick table or something to get the balls to do what they wanted them to do - but, you know, as long as Jared hits it consistently they really only need a couple takes to realize placing all three of the relevant balls on the back line isn’t going to work because they will mostly scoot off on the break - leaving the Cas ball on the back line where it’s sitting sort of, say, on top of, or under, the Dean ball (ahem.) while still being visibly next to it, doesn’t hurt the metaphor/visual at all while also adding that layer about Cas going off on his own sometimes, which is something he, ya know, does. Sam’s ball not moving much could indicate that he intends on staying in the bunker or in the life, or it could very well just be where it ended up. This isn’t mean to be a conspiracy theory post and I really don’t want to dive any deeper into the possible machinations behind this shot - but I do want to point out that Sam’s initial rack is not how I learned how to rack, and contrary to what this post suggests I don’t actually spend a lot of time analyzing the pool tables in this show, so I don’t know if they normally follow any kind of method or if they just throw the balls in all willy-nilly every time. What I do know, is that this little blip in the promo made me think of the shot from Nihilism, and made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

[aion-rsa]

Boy Meets World’s Slasher Episode Was Scarier Than it Had Any Right To Be

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Blood-curdling screams. Taunting phone calls from a psycho killer. Creepy, ominous music with lyrics like “Here’s a knife. Here’s a gun. There’ll be fun for everyone. Death is on the menu tonight!” Elements of a forgotten ‘90s slasher classic? Nope. Just some highlights from the most memorable episode of ABC’s family sitcom Boy Meets World.

With the launch of Disney+ and ample time to get nostalgic and revisit old movies and TV shows due to the pandemic, many older millennials are diving back into Boy Meets World, which ran for seven seasons from 1993 through 2000 as a staple of ABC’s TGIF lineup. The show centered on Philadelphia teenager Cory Matthews (Ben Savage) navigating life with his best friend Shawn Hunter (Rider Strong), his love interest Topanga Lawrence (Danielle Fishel), and brother Eric (Will Friedle), while perpetually receiving life lessons from longtime teacher and eventual principal Mr. Feeny (William Daniels). 

Boy Meets World had no shortage of standout moments and episodes, like WWE wrestler Vader appearing as the father of a misunderstood school bully, a young Linda Cardellini being the girl who almost destroyed the Cory and Topanga love story for good, and Peter Tork (who briefly played Topanga’s father), Micky Dolenz, and Davy Jones staging an impromptu Monkees reunion. And who could forget when Ben Savage’s famous brother Fred guest starred as a creepy college professor and was shoved through a glass door? 

But perhaps no other Boy Meets World episode made a bigger impact to impressionable young minds than the fifth season highlight “And Then There Was Shawn,” a format-breaking homage to the popular slasher films of the moment, like Scream and I Know What You Did Last Summer (the latter of which hit theaters just four months earlier). Serving as a metaphor for the fear and uncertainty Shawn feels over the recent breakup of Cory and Topanga, the episode is a mini-horror movie that operates in dream logic and features shocking cast deaths, zeitgeisty jokes, and a big ‘90s teen idol cameo. Many young fans were genuinely frightened by the scares conjured up in the episode, while older fans loved the campy, winking references and the change of pace storytelling.

“And Then There Was Shawn” writer Jeff Menell was typically happy to do what was asked of him on the series, but he jumped at the chance to write a horror-influenced episode. “I’m a diehard movie fan. I have been my entire life. But as a writer on set, I just did whatever I was told,” Menell said in a phone interview with Den of Geek. “I never went after anything. But I begged to write this one because I just knew I could do it.”

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The episode finds the high school-aged cast members serving detention with Mr. Feeny after a fight, springing from Cory and Topanga’s recent breakup, disrupts the class. Things quickly take a turn when the kids see a message in blood written on the chalkboard that reads “No One Gets Out Alive!” and hear a discomforting jingle with menacing lyrics playing over the high school’s PA system. Initially, the kids believe that Mr. Feeny is playing a prank on them, but things take a turn for the serious — and scary – when classmate Kenny is murdered in the dark by the masked killer wielding a pencil (prompting a very timely “You Killed Kenny!” reference). None other than Mr. Feeny himself bites the dust shortly thereafter via scissors to the back.

“You know, usually you go off for two weeks and you go write this draft and you bring it back, and then the room rewrites it. That always was the process. I wrote this one like in two days, and I had to pretend that it took longer because if you’ve written the script in two days, they assume it sucks, or that you didn’t really care or make an effort,” Menell says.

When Menell brought the initial draft to the writer’s room, however, there were minimal changes to his script. The episode’s director, Jeff McCracken, was impressed. 

“Jeff (Menell) went out and wrote his episode and when it came in it was perfect. It was an absolutely perfect flow of the script. He just nailed it.”

Emulating classic slasher film elements, McCracken had to approach the filming of “And Then There Was Shawn” differently than a typical episode. 

“It was so much fun,” McCracken says. “Because it had all these special sequences, we really had to shoot it like a film. We rehearsed for two days, then shot it for three, and then we showed it before a live audience. The film style is generally single style or two cameras, but I shot a lot of it with three to four cameras so that we wouldn’t have to do multiple retakes. You couldn’t have done the whole thing in front of a live audience because it would have taken too much time to set everything up and run through a show with an audience sitting there.”

The pencil kill is the most memorable moment from the episode, but McCracken nor Menell can take credit for it. “I remember the one gag that was not in the script, the one gag that Michael Jacobs (creator/executive producer) came up with, which was genius, was the pencil dynamic,” McCracken recalls. After classmate Kenny is shown impaled through the head with a pencil, his body slumps down the wall, leaving a lead pencil mark behind him. Cory quips, “We’ll always remember he was this tall.”

Kenny and Feeny’s deaths are bloodless, but they leave a mighty impression for a network family-friendly series. Both writer and director knew that they’d have to tread lightly if they were going to be faithful to the slasher genre (“I’m surprised they let us have Feeny with (scissors) in his back, to tell you the truth,” Menell says) but they both made a concerted effort to surround the kills with humor. 

“We had to make it funny,” McCracken says.” I mean, you put (scissors) in someone’s back, it can be very disturbing for a young audience. You can’t traumatize them. We did it with some sense of humor and it wasn’t so graphic.”

Part of the humor was derived from the very specific references made in the episode. Like Scream standout character Randy, Shawn makes meta references to the rules of the horror genre, telling his friends that virgins are the only ones who are safe. Eric says, “I’m dead,” Jack says, “I’m dead,” and Shawn says, “I’ll get as sick as you can without dying.” 

This slightly scandalous joke wasn’t anything new for the series, but the violent nature of the episode led to “And Then There Was Shawn” receiving the show’s first TV-PG-V rating. According to Menell, Michael Jacobs had a way of pushing the boundaries with network executives. “He got away with a lot more stuff than most people because he could really browbeat some network executives at times to get what he wanted.”

One major addition to the cast for “And Then There Was Shawn” probably helped Jacobs catch the network in the right mood. Jennifer Love Hewitt, coming off Party of Five and at the height of her scream queen powers, guest stars as new John Adams High student Jennifer Love Fefferman. Hewitt at the time was dating Will Friedle and it’s believed their relationship inspired her cameo. 

“We maybe asked him to ask her, because obviously she was in I Know What You Did Last Summer, so having her there just adds horror film credibility to it,” Menell says. “She was great. She was such a great sport, and it was fun having her on.”

McCracken concurs: “It was such a pleasure. It was one of those things that you don’t know how a major star walking in on your set, how they’re going to be, what their demands are going to be, what their personality is going to be like, what their disposition for the script’s going to be like, and she just came in full guns blazing and just had a blast and that made everything just wonderful. She was game for anything.”

One thing that Hewitt was game for was a big makeout scene with Friedle’s Eric, that may or may not have been improvised. “I don’t think we wrote that in, I think they just wanted to do it and we let it,” Menell laughs.

Amongst all of the horror homage fun, the episode ends with Shawn removing the killer’s mask to find himself starring back, having gone through this whole slasher bit just to get his friends back together. It’s quite the philosophical ending for a show primarily aimed at tweens and teens. 

“When it did get serious with Shawn at the end, it was more poignant than it was scary and it was also a great reveal that it was him,” McCracken says. “It was metaphorical in the sense that that component of Shawn is in us all and it’s always lurking and it’s always out there. And so, be vigilant.”

The Jeffs knew that they had a special episode on their hands with “And Then There Was Shawn,” but who could have guessed the episode would have this sort of longevity 22 years later?

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“We got a few letters from people that were so scared, couldn’t believe we would kill Feeny. And we got some people that were upset,” Menell says. “But we had no idea until years later when the internet came on how popular that episode became. We did some crossovers, some time flashbacks, and some other really cool episodes, but this was a show that was nothing like any other episode we had aired or would air. It was probably the most fun … it’s certainly the most scary.”

The post Boy Meets World’s Slasher Episode Was Scarier Than it Had Any Right To Be appeared first on Den of Geek.

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[general9chaos]

Symmetries in Mauling Snarks and Hook, Yarn, Sinker

Mauling Snarks and Hook, Yarn, Sinker are two fics that have a bunch of interesting similarities and symmetries. They are both Slice of Life stories about aesexual-spectrum people in long-term queer relationships. They both are lighter and fluffier AUs of their respective source material (Worm and Teen Wolf, respectively).

Their symmetries are even more striking. I'll start with gender stuff: CmptrWz, the author of Mauling Snarks, is a man writing about Taylor Hebert, a bullied girl who becomes the hero Maul, with the power to talk to snarks (the things that give people powers) and hit things at a distance. pprfaith ( @wordsformurder), the author of Hook, Yarn, Sinker, is a woman writing about Stiles Stilinski, an artsy man who owns a craft store and is really good with children.

Both of these descriptions are incredibly reductive, but this highlights one of the symmetrical differences: Mauling Snarks changed Taylor's power, and retroactively changed the world so that this power fit well. HYS changed Stiles' setting, aged him up, and removed all the supernatural powers because they were not necesary for the story, because these are people who could actually exist IRL. Mauling Snarks is driven primarily by Taylor's power and connections, while HYS is driven primarily by Stiles' character and friends.

As they meet their partners to be, the authors tell very different stories.

Taylor meets Amy Dallon when she's in costume as Panacea, the world's greatest healer, because she has TSS and other injuries from the trigger event that gave her powers. She's delirious, and says "You should buy a greenhouse." This is because a lot of Amy's depression is because of her snark's boredom with always healing humans. Playing around with plant biology will make her snark happier and improve her mental health. Taylor starts out by giving Amy useful advice to make her happier, which looks like incoherant rambling at first, but which contains a life-changing bit of well aimed advice if you look past the surface.  

Stiles meets Peter Hale after Cora, Peter's toddler neice, runs headlong into his leg. He picks her up and starts looking for her adult, and finds Peter. He's immediately struck by Peter's "stressed dad doing his best to take care of three kids" look. Stiles demonstrates his kid-distracting skills by giving Cora a crochet ball with peas in it, and then starts to help Derek, Peter's 6 year old boy, get over thinking that crochet is for girls, pick out yarn and learn to crochet. He demonstrates that he is good with kids, and that is what catches Peter's attention. He tells Derek his advice straightforwardly and follows up with a real life example of a manly man whose knitting a baby blanket!

Taylor doesn't go out of her way to make her advice understandable. She just gives it and goes on with her life until she meets Amy again. This comes up over and over again in the story: Taylor doesn't want to be easily understandable. She likes to confuse people, to give them misleading answers, to see how long they will run in circles before wising up and asking her for more information. She doesn't often lie outright, but loves to mislead or just not give people the information they want. Also, telling someone that something is classified is not lying, but also doesn't give them any useful information. Add in the threat of making you fill out hundreds of pages of Non-Discloser Agreements, and not many people push her.

Stiles likes to give good advice, to make himself understood. When he talks about grief with Laura, Peter's 10 year old niece, he figures out the right metaphors to get her to understand. He goes into detail about how that loss is like a bomb went off. There's a crater in Laura's heart where her mom and dad died. That crater will not disapear, but as life goes on grass and flowers will grow there, until it doesn't look like there was a horrible explosion there at first glance anymore.

The authors' interests often shine through in their characters' interests. Taylor is a systematic thinker who enjoys reading bureacratic documentation, who knows what forms to file before pulling a prank, who gets really into computers and tech as the story goes on and she builds up more and more connections with powerful people. Stiles is a craft store owner who crochets and knits, who loves taking care of kids and hanging out with his tight-knit friend group.

Both of these characters are not typical of their genders. They have interests, personalities, and interaction styles that are more typical of the opposite gender. When I first started thinking of these stories as symmetrical opposites of each other across gender lines, I grappled with the idea that Taylor is more masculine than feminine and Stiles is more feminine than masculine, even though Taylor's a girl and Stiles is a man. At this point, I just accept that gendered traits are population level and there absolutely are masculine women and feminine men.

Taylor is possibly demisexual and possibly aesexual. She has an aversion to romantic and sexual relationships with non-parahumans, because her snark is social and wants a certain level of compatibility with her partner's snark. She doesn't care about physical form, but about trust. Her relationship with Amy is non-sexual as far as CmptrWz has written, but much more intimate. Because of some powers bullshit after they became friends, they share powers and snarks. Both of them can feel the other's body using Shaper, Amy's snark. They can talk easily at any distance with Broadcast Administrator, and are basically always aware of the other. They have both upgraded the other's body, in collaboration with Riley, a biotinker who's really good at human augmentation. The process involves taking the patient's skin off to integrate nanoweave armor into it, as well as improving basically all internal organs, including the brain. It doesn't get much more intimate than that. Can you see how the powers drive the story and relationship here? I get that I'm barely scratching the surface of their relationship, but Mauling Snarks is 1.5 million words long and I've got a few paragraphs.

Stiles is aesexual and doing romance backwards with Peter. He thinks that sex is gross, but loves taking care of Peter's kids. His first date with Peter was a crafts festival that was just as much a business trip for his store as it was an opportunity to hang out with Peter without the kids around. They already knew each other for months by that point.

I'm kinda running out of steam on this essay for tonight, so I'll just post it and maybe revisit it later. Also, @olderthannetfic, thanks for the kind words and curiosity about Spacebattles. I hope you enjoy this, and I'll have some more comparisons between these stories whenever I get around to it. Also, I should reread HYS again and get back to rereading MS. Have I mentioned that MS is 1.5 milion words long? I’m not doing justice to these characters in a short essay like this.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Two

Part One , Part Three , Part Four

Pairing: Douglas Booth!Nikki Sixx X OC

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: Language

Tag list: @fandomshit6000 , @lilmou5ie , @tamedhearts , @divaanya

**Let me know if you want to be tagged**

———————————————————————

“So, how did this happen?” I ask the four band members, taking another sip of water while we wait for our food. Vince and Mick glance at me while Nikki doesn’t bother looking up from the menu he’s pretending to be fascinated by, even though he’s already ordered. 

I at least expect Tommy to answer me, but he’s watching a woman in a short skirt walk by, reaching across the table to hit Vince and Nikki to catch their attention so he can show them the hot chick he discovered.

They watch as she walks by, as if they’ve never seen the lower half of thighs before, and Mick and I exchange eye contact with unamused looks on our faces.

“Idiots.” Mick mumbles, pushing his sunglasses up his nose.

“Horny idiots.” I add in the same tone, feeling a little better when the usually stoic face of the guitarist shifts and nearly gives me a smile. Nearly.

I don’t think they heard us, and when the woman’s too far out of sight and Vince leans back, smirking at me.

“So, Viv, what’ve you been up to these days?” He asks, completely brushing off my earlier question.

“Same thing I was up to freshman, sophomore and junior year. Focusing on school.” I tell him blankly and he rolls his eyes and groans, tilting his head back.

“When the hell are you gonna blow your fuckin’ parents off and have fun?” He asks me.

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to tell her and she won’t listen.” Tommy cuts in and I look at him pointedly.

“I snuck out to come see you tonight.” I argue. “Dressed like a hooker.”

“Not a slutty one,” Tommy says it as if it’s not good enough. “You’re wearing a bra, and your shorts could be a few inches shorter.”

“If my mother saw me like this, she would exorcise me.” I state tiredly.

“Ugh, she’s one of those.” Mick comments blankly.

“You have no fucking idea, Mick.” Tommy shakes his head as he complains.

“Judging by how boring her spawn is, we have a pretty good idea, T-bone.” Nikki speaks finally, tossing the menu aside with a low exhale.

“Wow, you have been on it tonight.” I call him out with cut eyes, my arms crossed. “Did you not get all of your anger out during that brawl?”

“Did you not get all of your bitchiness out during the show?” He asks me, furrowing his brows. “You know, we encourage people to get their feelings out during a show so they go home chilled out and not so uptight.”

“Well, maybe you should do better next time.” I shoot back, getting annoyed with his attitude and he chuckles without humor.

Tommy and Vince stay quiet, letting us bicker, glancing at us quietly as Mick just sits still, keeping his face forward, minding his own business.

“I met Tommy after I left my band, London, and he said he could join me. He knew Vince from school, and we found Mick through a newspaper add.” Nikki explains to me with barely any emotion. “That’s how this happened.”

So, he was listening after all.

“How the fuck did this happen?” He asks next and motions between Tommy and I, and we look at each other.

“We met in first grade.” I tell him.

“I put gum in her hair.”

“Then tried to get it out with his spit.” I add. “Which made it worse.”

“So I just cut it out with scissors.” He finishes with a smile and a nod as if he’s a problem solver and I rub my lips together.

“Basically our friendship has consisted of him just making my life hard from day one.” I explain. “Which nowadays instead of putting gum in my hair, he’s screwing girls in the backseat of my car.”

“Oh my God. It was one time, Viv.” He sighs, looking at me.

“Tommy, I saw your everything.” I remind him and he waves me off.

“I’ve seen your everything before. It’s not the end of the world. It just brings us closer.” He tries to reason with me and I’m reminded of the one incident I was hoping they’d forgotten about as he and Vince exchange looks and try to hide their smiles.

“Oh, do tell.” Nikki’s interest is obviously a jab at me, the smug look on his face as he leans forward makes me want to come across the table and hit him.

“Her sophomore year, summer pool party, my house, her bikini magically came off.” Vince tells him, pointing his finger at me.

“‘Magically came off’ meaning Vince spiked my drink with Tequila.” I correct him and he gives me a tight grin.

“You know, now that I think about it, I can’t decide if it was the Tequila or the AC/DC that turned you in to a dirty stripper.” Vince thinks aloud and I have to keep from smiling.

“I was only fifteen. I was not a dirty stripper.” I assure Mick and Nikki.

“Tommy had to chase your naked ass down the street and wrestle you in order to get you to put clothes on.” Vince continues on, not helping my case and I give up. “Tell me you didn’t have fun that day.” He tries to make a point and I think for a few seconds.

“I don’t remember anything past me getting drunk, Vince. Why would you want to live life not remembering any of the fun you supposedly have?”

“Ugh, you’re one of those.” Nikki says to himself, repeating Mick from earlier, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I forget having morals and a sense of sobriety is like having the plague to rockstars.” I spit out.

“Viv,” Tommy says under his breath and nudges me with his leg to get me to stop whatever rant I’m about to go on and ruin the mood.

“Do you plan on sticking with Tommy through all of this? Like if we happen to get signed or something and make it to the big leagues?” Nikki asks all of the sudden and Tommy and I stay quiet.

We’ve talked about the possibility of him finding luck in someone’s band ever since he started playing.

I promised him I would go with him wherever he went. We haven’t revisited the idea since I made that promise our junior year. Now we’re half way done with senior year and I’ve already been accepted into a prestige college on a dancing scholarship. If he happens to make it big, I wouldn’t be able to go unless I dropped out. And that would be a fun conversation with my parents.

“That’s what we agreed on. Why?” I ask him and he shakes his head slightly.

I wish he would’ve told me what he really wanted to say. Which was “you’ll never make it out alive.” I wish he would have given me even the slightest idea of what exactly I was getting myself in to. Not that any of it would have made me change my mind.

After we finished eating, I was half asleep, leaned against Tommy as he, Nikki and Vince talked about their next gig and what improvements need to be made for a better show. Mick’s already gone, he left before we even got food, and physically I’m here but mentally I’m in my bed at home.

“Tommy, I’m going home.” I say to him after glancing at his watch and seeing it’s almost two in the morning.

“Lame.” Vince pipes out.

“I know.” I admit, not even caring at this point. I just want to sleep.

“Are you okay to drive?” Tommy asks and before I can answer, he’s taking Nikki’s glass of Coca-Cola away from him and putting it in front of me. “Drink. It’s got caffeine.” Tommy suggests and I glance at Nikki to see him glaring at Tommy for snatching his drink without asking.

“No, thanks. I don’t want any contagious Devil-Spawn disease.” I push the drink away, hearing a single “ha” come out of Nikki’s mouth as Vince snickers.

I slide out of the booth we’re seated in and stand up, relieved to stretch my legs.

“Have fun on your knees, Viv.” Vince tells me slyly, giving me a grin. “Ya know, praying at church and all.”

“I’ll be thinking of you the whole time.” I promise him, looking at Tommy. “I’ll see you Monday.” I tell him, walking to the door.

“Drive safe.” He orders me and I give him a thumbs up before stepping outside to my car.

When I get home, I carefully shut my door as quietly as I can, stepping to my unlocked window. Once it’s slid up, and I climb in, I immediately go pee, strip down and fall in to bed, smelling like cigarettes, booze and sweat but I’m too tired to care.

I hated lying to my parents. And I never did anything necessarily wrong so they had every reason to trust me. Of course what happened at Vince’s pool party a couple of years prior could be considered “wrong”, but they’d never find out about that. And as Mötley Crüe’s success grew, I was having to lie more and more to my mom and dad because I was going to every show they played. Which meant I had to go behind my parent’s backs multiple times a week, multiple nights in a row.

I pace the floor of the dressing room, Tommy perfecting his hair as I continue ranting.

“...And I can’t even sneeze without them interrogating me so I don’t know how much longer I can keep this whole thing up.” I finish telling him.

“Don’t worry about it. Just tell them you’re tutoring me if they keep getting suspicious.” He tells me, teasing his hair, and I step behind him in the mirror, teasing a section that he missed. “Thanks, Viv.” He mumbles once I’m done, taking a swig of Jack that’s on the counter in front of him.

“They don’t even think I’m friends with you anymore, Tommy.” I don’t expect the hurt look on his face when I tell him this, and he snaps his full attention my way.

“What the fuck do you mean?” He asks and I breathe out.

“Mötley and it’s members are starting to gain recognition from my church. My mom told me I don’t need to be friends with you anymore.” I explain and his face scrunches up. “Being that you represent Satan and all of hell’s demons and what not.” I try to make a joke but he’s not focused on it.

“Who the fuck is she to tell you to stop being friends with me after twelve fucking years?” He hisses bitterly, looking in the mirror to line his eyes with black liner.

“I’m not listening to her, obviously.” I motion to myself.

There’s a pause of silence between us, and he finishes his eye liner, taking another gulp of alcohol.

“You don’t really believe that shit about us and Satan do you?” It’s a question I assume is meant to be funny but he’s dead serious when he asks it.

“No, Tommy, I don’t.” I state sternly. “There is nothing hellacious about you.” I add, smiling reassuringly at him.

I decide I better hurry and change from my “appropriate” clothes that I wore out of the house since my parents were still awake. They weren’t about to let me leave until I explained to them I was going to a prayer meeting at my friend Tansy’s house.

“Tommy, I need my clothes.” I tell him, taking the long, denim skirt off, along with the long sleeve shirt, leaving me in a bra and panties and he turns to hand me the skin tight, emerald green dress that leaves little to the imagination.

He doesn’t acknowledge the fact I’m in just my underwear, his face turned away as he hands me the dress and I feel a shred of pride that he actually can control himself to an extent.

I put the dress on, deciding it doesn’t look right with a bra and I can see the distinct panty line so I take it off again and toss my bra aside, and take my panties off, tossing the set of under garments on to the counter.

“Hide those from Vince or I will never see them again.” I tell Tommy and he gets a look on his face before turning to face me, screaming like a girl when he sees me completely naked.

“Tommy!” I scream as he screams “Viv!” And squeezes his eyes closed.

“Why didn’t you warn me?!” He asks with his face in his hands and I shouldn’t find this funny, but I do.

“I didn’t expect you to turn around and you’ve already said you’ve seen it all—“

I’m interrupted by Nikki and Vince barging in blaring out “Tommy” and “T-Bone.”

I have never seen Tommy Lee move so fast and before I know it, he’s shouting “No!” And tackling me, while I’m still naked, to keep Vince and Nikki from seeing me.

Judging by the looks on their faces, he was a little too late at covering me up.

[hotchocolateandpillowforts]

Rules: if you’re tagged, answer the questions and then add 10 of your own!

tagged by the amazing @eg515 thank you so much!

tagging: Anyone who’s bored.

1. What was the last movie you watched in theatres? Birds of Prey and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn. I can never remember the full title so I always call it Birds of Prey.

2. What’s your favourite game to play? I get bored with games. I usually play one like mad for a week and then delete it. I’m currently doing a woodworking game.

3. Chocolate or vanilla? Chocolate for sure.

4. What’s the last show you binge-watched? Probably Roswell, New Mexico. Currently working on The Umbrella Academy.

5. Do you have any pets? One cat named Lexie Anne.

6. What’s your favourite fairy tale? Probably Beauty and the Beast. Fall in love with a prince AND get that gorgeous library. Yes, please.

7. Who’s your favourite superhero? I liked X-Men a lot growing up, but I’m really over super heroes at this point. Too much Marvel shoved down my throat. I still like Hawkeye a lot.

8. Who’s you favourite Disney Princess? Anna? She’s the most relatable.

9. Where’s the first place you’re going to go after the social distancing is over? Probably just to grab some food and buy some books? Social distancing hasn’t had a huge impact on my life.

10. Cookies or Cake? Cookies. I don’t like cakes.

+ 10 questions

1. which show could you watch over and over?  I WANT to say Gilmore Girls, but I tried that when doing prep for my colonoscopy and I just cringed a lot. Firefly, Dollhouse, and Buffy for sure.

2. favourite song lyric? That’s really hard. I know that Panic at the Disco and Fall Out Boy both have a lot of great wordplay.

3. favourite season of your favourite tv show? I don’t know that I have one? Season 6 of Buffy, Season 1 of Dollhouse, or the only season of Firefly?

4. what never fails to make you smile/happy? Christmas.

5. how are you doing with all that’s going on in the world (virus, having to do social distancing, etc)? It’s been pretty rough with all of the bullshit going on? But I’m watching Christmas movies with the husband.

6. we all love new music to listen to, name an artist that is underrated/you think people should check out? The Pretty Reckless.

7. tv show or movie? T.V. show but only because my attention span is shitty. Thankfully Christmas movies are easy to zone in and out of.

8. favourite holiday? Christmas.

9. a song that describes you? My most played song on iTune is Breaking and Entering by Tonight Alive.

10. describe your tumblr in three words? Which one? My main: bit of everything. My CM blog: Criminal Minds Obsessed. My book blog: Books, More Books.

10 more questions!

1. Favourite book? I don’t think you have the right to ask this question. I cannot pick one. The latest book to completely destroy me was House of Earth and Blood by Sarah J. Maas.

2. Favourite candy? I love most chocolates, but I was addicted to the Strawberry sour patches a while back.

3. How many siblings do you have? 1, but he’s been a handful my whole life.

4. What’s your zodiac sign? Cancer

5. Where in the world would you most like to travel? The U.K., Ireland, Prague. I’d love to revisit Honduras.

6. Do you speak any other languages? I’ve studied years of French, but I’m nowhere near fluent.

7. Something you wish more people knew about you? I would honestly prefer if people knew nothing about me. I spent too much of my life trying to make other people see me as I am and it not work to want to do it again.

8. Describe your style/look in three words? Simple, stuck, unchanging.

9. Favourite weather? Late Fall through early February. Fall and wintery weather.

10. Most-used emoji? The blushing smiley face apparently.

+ my 10 questions:

1. First OTP you had and how do you feel about them now? Oh wow. That one’s so hard. For TV shows probably Klaroline (Caroline X Klaus from The Vampire Diaries/The Originals) and for books? Karou X Akiva from Daughter of Smoke and Bone. I still really like Karou X Akiva, but it’s less soul wrenching to think about them than it was while reading the series. With Klaroline I’ll always be upset by what didn’t happen. I will love them forever.

2. Favourite (or most tolerable) Disney movie remake? The latest Aladdin movie.

3. What is your phone case like? It’s one that can charge wirelessly. I’m not a big fan of the texture of the case, but it fits my stand well.

4. Favourite food to cook/bake? COOKIES! I love my Cinnamon Roll Cookies, but they’re so much work. I enjoy making my PB Chocolate Chip Cookies the most.

5. If you could save/bring back one cancelled tv show, which would it be? FIREFLY...oh, or Ringer...or Dollhouse. Shit.

6. Which book would you like to see as a tv adaption? (even if it already has a movie adaption) Six of Crows!

7. Most hated chore? Dishes!

8. What is your guilty pleasure trashy tv show or movie that you always watch but don’t talk about? Oh wow. That’s hard to come up with. I usually just talk about what I watch. Maybe stupid reality shows like 90 Day Fiance.

9. One song that you love, but hate the artist? Don’t You Wanna Stay by Jason Aldean (Ft. Kelly Clarkson)

10. One movie (or tv show episode) that always makes you cry? The only one I can think of is Up because the first 10 minutes made me lose my shit. But I’m a pretty easy crier when it comes to TV shows/movies. I think the last time I cried watching a TV show was when (SPOILER FOR ROSWELL, NEW MEXICO) Max died.(END SPOILER)

[strawberry-slurpee]

"I mean, I was giving him all the signals," I groan, laying back dramatically on my friend's bed. "I was playing with my hair like you said. I even did that dumb thing where you put your hand up against his to compare sizes... Was that super lame?" I turn to look at my best friend, sat on the cream carpet of his bedroom floor, legs stretched out and leaning back against his door. He looks back at me, a small smile beginning to form on his lips. "I don't think you're super lame," Steve replies. I just groan for the millionth time, rolling my head back to look up at the ceiling. "Am I ugly then?" I wonder softly, "Because I thought I looked kind of cute tonight and I know that I was the one who asked him to hang out so maybe he just thought it was a friendly thing and never saw me in that way... or maybe he did want to go out with me but then I said something wrong or didn't act right because he didn't really say much all night if I'm being honest, or maybe I should have taken control and just grabbed him and kissed him... but that's not really me." The room is silent after my stream of consciousness runs dry. My chest tightens slightly as I revisit the events of the night, my nose wrinkling as I cringe in thought of all the times I had tried to mentally tell my date I wanted him to make a move; to grab my hand, or tuck my hair back behind my ear so he could look at me, tell me I looked pretty and kiss me gently on the lips. To give me my first kiss. Maybe I was being crazy to think that the kind of thing you read about could happen in real life. That romance could exist in High School. I just wanted it so badly. I wanted to feel cherished and to have someone say I was beautiful that wasn't my mother. "Did I ever tell you the story of my first kiss?" Steve asks, breaking me out of my spiralling thoughts. "Yeah, it was second-grade and you kissed Stacey Lewis on the playground," I reply. I hear Steve chuckle so I sit up on the bed, confused. "No," he starts gently, "My first real kiss." I gaze at him blankly, not sure where he was going. "I was fourteen and I kissed a friend of my cousin. Her name was Charlotte and we got dared to kiss so we went somewhere private and we did... and I guess she'd seen some movie or something where the girl bites the guys' lip while they kiss because she tried to do that, but did it too hard and made my lip bleed,". I stare at him, uncertain, until a laugh shoots through me. I had remembered him telling me about this kiss the day after it had happened. He had told me all about this super hot blonde girl from out of town and how they had made out. What a little poser. "Look, all I'm trying to say is first kisses really aren't all that great," he lets out, a small chuckle of his own leaving his lips as he glances around the room, a little embarrassed. "I can't win!" I say following another groan of frustration. "I want to kiss someone. I'd probably kiss anyone at this point. But now I find out it's gonna be awful... What's the fucking point, Steve?". Quiet falls over the room again as I begin to accept that maybe I'll just never kiss anyone and will die alone surrounded by cats. "You'd kiss anyone?" Steve asks with a smirk. "Pretty much," I sigh. "Even Mr. Heinrick next-door?" he retorts. "Anyone my age," I laugh, turning my nose up at the image Steve has placed in my head of kissing his eighty-year old neighbour. "What about me?" Steve asks gently. "What?" I ask, my stomach dropping at his words. "You wanna kiss King Steve?" he grins, jumping up from his seat and lunging at me. He grabs me around my waist, tackling me and pulling me down on to the bed with him. He pins me down with my wrists above my head, my defence hindered by the shrieks of laughter he's elicited. He lets go of me and allows me to sit up. He sit across from one another on the bed, our legs crossed and knees touching each other; the way we used to sit as kids when we'd share secrets. "I dare you to kiss me," Steve says, earning only an eye roll from me. "I'm kind of serious!" he defends, "I think you should kiss me and get your first over with so you don't keep worrying about it and so I don't have to listen to any more details about your terrible dates.". I stop to look at him, not totally sure as to whether he's still joking. But he looks pretty serious. "Wouldn't that feel kind of weird?" I ask hesitantly, part of me wondering if he's about to break character and call me gross for even entertaining the idea. "Only if we make it weird. It's just a kiss. Doesn't really mean anything," he shrugs. It worries me slightly how much sense he's making. It would be nice not to have to worry about not having had my first kiss still. It would be even better to think that I could kiss someone and get some honest feedback about how to be better without feeling inferior and embarrassed. He is a safe pair of hands. Maybe it would be good if Steve was my first. I trust him with my life. "Okay," I say, my voice only just above a whisper as nerves start to creep in. I can feel my palms start to clam up and my stomach twist slightly. "Are you sure?" he asks. I nod. He looks into my eyes, as if triple checking I was okay with this. Once he's satisfied with whatever he finds, his face softens, his eyes relaxing as they take in my whole face. He takes my hands and places them gently on his waist, his own falling just above my knees. There's a moment where nothing happens, both of us just adjusting to this new dynamic. There's definitely tension between us, but whether its nerves or awkwardness I can't quite tell. Before I have too long to overthink, Steve is leaning towards me, and I'm following his lead. Our heads tilt slightly and my eyelids flutter closed. Our lips touch. I'm having my first kiss. And holy shit, I'm kissing my best friend. And it's kind of weird but I can't tell why. I pull back. "Sorry," is all Steve says, looking down, clearly worried he's pushed me too far. "No, no, um, could we do that again maybe?" I ask and he quickly looks up at me so I add, "I think I just got a bit in my head. Do-over?" Steve smiles and nods slightly. This time it's me who initiates the leaning in. Our lips meet for the second time. This time I'm focusing on the actual kiss. His lips are soft. A lot softer than I thought boys lips would be, and they're not really that chapped despite how much I see him biting at them when we're at school and he's focusing hard on something. I can feel his body relaxing and mine in turn does the same as our lips part briefly before reconnecting, our lips stacked this time. I add a little more pressure, pulling on his bottom lip ever so slightly. I feel him exhale out of his nose when I do this, sending me immediately back into a panic. I pull back again, letting go of his waist and pulling my hands back into my lap. "Sorry was that bad?" I ask, unsure if I want to know the answer. "What? No, that was--" he clears his throat, "That was pretty good," "Oh," is all I can muster. There's a small period of silence before Steve asks, "Do you regret it?" I shake my head. He's quiet for a moment before a sly smirk spreads across his face. "What?" I ask quickly. "You just kissed King Steve," he replies. I roll my eyes and shove him off the bed.

[kusunogatari]

[ ObiRyū October | Day Twenty-Three: Government Conspiracies ] [ @abyssaldespair ] [ Uchiha Obito, Suigin Ryū ] [ Drugs ] [ Verse: Make Ends Meet ] [ Previous || Next ]

She doesn’t regret it at all, but Ryū has to admit...after having given Obito a key to her apartment, she really has no idea what she’ll come home to some days. It’s very rarely anything bad - typically he just shows up and hangs out. Occasionally he’ll be on this drug or another, but it’s only once in a blue moon he’s anything to worry about.

Though once she did come back to find him cooking (or...trying to cook) in her kitchen with no pants on. And...nothing in the pan. Thankfully he’d also missed actually turning the burner on, so he was just grooving and wobbling a pan around - no harm no foul. She even got a few pictures before he realized she was there.

And then...there’s days like today.

She’s actually off a bit early, the clinic having to close after the power grid went down for their block. So after running a few errands with her extra time, Ryū returns to her place and makes her way through the door, doing a customary sweep of the main room in search of Obito.

She finds him, and...well, at first she doesn’t notice anything, calling a greeting and putting her things down in the kitchen. He doesn’t reply, and she figures he’s just up to something, so she sorts through her few groceries before returning to the sitting room.

He’s sat on the couch, legs pulled up and crossed atop the cushions. A throw pillow is hugged tightly to his chest, eyes wide and staring at her unpowered TV. The curtains are all drawn, and...Ryū perks a brow.

“Um...Obito?”

“...huh?”

“You okay?”

Sluggishly, he turns to look to her, clearly a bit slow on the uptake...likely on some substance or another. “...did they see you come in?”

“They? They who?”

“Them.”

“...hun, you’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Wiggling to turn and face her, he whispers, “They’re always watching, Ryū...always watching. They have access to all the cameras…! The traffic cams, security monitors, your cell phone...they see it all!”

“Who?”

“The government, Ryū!”

Before she can stop it, Ryū lets loose a snort.”...did you get lost reading conspiracy theories before you came over here?”

“It’s not a conspiracy, it’s true! You know why you always get ads about things you look up? They know!”

“That’s an algorithm, Obito. Kinda hard to avoid, but...that’s why I block ads. Look...you’re a little worked up, and you just need to chill for a while, okay? You hungry?”

“There’s chemicals in your food, Ryū…”

“Obito, everything is chemicals. It’s how matter works. I’ve got organic chicken, if that makes you feel better.”

He doesn’t really reply, muttering to himself and sinking back into the couch. Doing her best not to giggle at him, Ryū just retreats to the kitchen with a shake of her head, making some food and hoping he’s a bit more calmed down by the time she’s done. She’d turn on the TV, but...that might just freak him out more. Best to give him some peace and quiet for now.

By the time she loads up his plate, he’s looking a bit less dazed, but still refuses to loosen his hold on the pillow he hijacked from the couch, taking it with him to the table. Ryū allows it, seeing no harm (so long as he doesn’t spill anything on it). Chewing a bite and watching him very slowly go through the motions, she asks, “Obito...what did you take before you got here?”

“Take?”

“What are you on right now?”

“Just...some weed. Some new, uh…”

A brow perks. A new strain, is that what he means? Must be hitting him a little harder than usual...but at least she knows that’s nothing to really worry about. “Anything else?”

“...no, no...just...just weed.”

“Okay...good. You can just stay here tonight until you’re sobered up, and...get some sleep, okay?”

“No cameras?”

“...no, Obito. My apartment doesn’t have any cameras.”

“Are you sure…?”

“Yes, I’m sure. I don’t even have a webcam. And my cellphone is off. I’ll even take the battery out if it makes you feel better.” She’ll miss any possible texts, but...if it’s any sort of emergency, those who need it have her landline number.

Once they finish eating, she does up the dishes and sits him back on the couch, putting on some slow music instead of TV for something to listen to. Sitting beside him, she opens her arms, letting him collapse into her hold.

...he still has a death grip on her pillow.

“Next time you’re going to smoke, please don’t read any more government conspiracies, okay? Do that when you’re sober. Otherwise it’s just gonna mess with your head.”

“Okay…”

They sit and snuggle for a while, Ryū almost dozing between the warmth and the quiet music in the background. But eventually Obito wriggles his way out of her grip, mumbling about needing to pee. By that time, she looks to a window and finds it well past dark. It’s not quite bedtime, but she’s never against getting some extra sleep. And she’s already groggy after their stint here on the couch.

When he comes back, she asks, “How are you feeling?”

“Better...I think I’m about out of it. Sorry about, uh...getting weird.”

Ryū just snorts. “I don’t mind. You sure were worried, though.”

“It’s a legitimate concern!”

“I know, I know. I guess I figure I don’t have much to hide.”

“Well I do,” he mutters, earning a giggle.

“Well, look at it this way...if they really do have all of that surveillance, how come they haven’t caught you yet?”

“I dunno. Maybe I’m not a big enough fish yet.”

“Maybe. But I think for now, at least, you don’t have anything to worry about.” Giving him a sleepy smile, she asks, “Still want to stay the night, or would you rather head home?”

“...I can stay. Not sure I’m good enough to walk home yet. And I want to stay, anyway.”

“That’s just fine with me,” Ryū agrees with a grin. Settling her apartment down for the night, she slips into her nightgown and flops into bed with a sigh. “Hopefully the power’s back up at work tomorrow…”

“It went out?”

“Yeah, some weird electrical thing...I don't know enough about it, but the whole block was out. I got out early and ran some errands, and then...found you tripping out on my couch.”

Obito hums, slipping into the other side of the bed. “Did they give an estimation?”

“Not that I heard, no. I’ll text someone in the morning and see what’s up. Maybe I’ll get a day off! Could use the money but...day off…”

That gets him to snort. “Quite the dilemma,” he murmurs, wriggling around a bit to get comfortable as he snags her in his grip.

“What about you? Anything lined up in the morning?”

“Don’t think so.”

“Okay...well you can hang out after I leave if you want. But I’ll probably still have work, if I had to guess.”

There’s another hum of agreement, and she can tell the conversation is over. Settling down, Ryū hums contentedly, greys closing and soon drifting off to sleep.

     This is...super random, and sadly a lot shorter than usual, but I just...can't think of anything else to add, lol - I've averaged over 2300 words each, but this one's only about 1200, RIP      ANYWAY      More modern verse! I vaguely remember a short cracky thread we had about this AAAGES ago (which was technically in canon, I think?) where Obito was paranoid about being watched while high...that might've actually been before the ship sailed...I can't quite remember. But I thought it'd be neat to revisit, lol      Buuut yeah, that's all I got for tonight - my brain's been mush for ages so I need to get some sleep! Thanks for reading~

[asterinjapan]

A whole Latte (window) shopping

Good evening from a rainy Tokyo! And no apologies for that awful pun in the title, haha.

Yeah, so uhm, two new tropical storms have formed… One has already dwindled down to a low pressure system, bringing in a ton of rain tonight into tomorrow over areas that have already had plenty of rani last week. The second is a typhoon right now and will probably tun into a low pressure area as well when it approaches late this week. The already battered parts of Japan really can’t catch a break, yikes.

For me, it’s just a mild inconvenience. Tokyo will get rain, and pretty much all my side trips are falling through as they’re in dangerous areas due to risk of landslides and what not, but I can definitely keep myself otherwise entertained. I can only hope that these storms blow over without too much additional damage.

Anyway! I finally managed to wear myself out today, haha, and that despite just sticking to the city I’m staying in. Climbing mountains is easy, but (window) shopping does me in!

Follow me below for my report of today, consisting of Shibuya revisited, hopping over to Harajuku and Akihabara and ending with dinner with a certain bright yellow mascot. Pictures will be up tomorrow morning!

First things first, I had a train ticket to secure for a trip that will happen no matter what: the ride to the airport on the 28th. The Narita Express doesn’t often go through Ikebukuro, but it does at a convenient time for me for once on the 28th, so I wanted to get a seat on that train, haha. Sure, I have to get up early, but I can throw my luggage into the luggage corner, take a seat, and only get up once I’m at the airport. I’ve nearly always had to transfer after the Yamanote line, which is not a lot of fun when you have heavy bags with you. So! I made my way to the JR East travel office, since the normal ticket office apparently can’t reserve seats on the Narita Express for you, and secured my seat. I also asked about trains further out, and got confirmed what I was already suspecting: dangerous, cancelled lines, etcetera. Well, I’m not gonna risk it. Too bad about my JR pass, but it’s given me my free seat in the Narita Express, and the shorter trips throughout Tokyo secretly add up a lot too if you don’t have a free pass. It has long since paid itself off!

Well, I had gotten a relatively early start today, so I went to Shibuya again at a calm pace. It was only a little after ten, so the crossing was pretty empty compared to yesterday, haha. I first hopped over to the Disney store to secure my ticket for Disneyland. Hey, it’s tradition by now! There was only one person in front of me instead of a long line (going on a Monday morning really helps), so that was quickly arranged. After some shop browsing, I traced my way to my Miyamasu Mitake shrine (I’m getting possessive over it by now, haha). And behold, the shop was open! I could finally hand in my omamori, protective charm, which I’d gotten almost 2 years ago (you’re supposed to hand it back in after a year). I immediately got a new one, of course. Still white, because I think the other ones were more specific, and ‘general luck’ has worked fine so far I’d say!

I had a light and early lunch at a nearby café and then went back to the station to go one stop further on the Yamanote line: Harajuku. I usually go to the fancy Omotesando street or the Meiji shrine, but today, I went into Takeshita street. That’s what you think of when you hear Harajuku, I guess, haha, sinc this street is lined with a ton of fashion stores and all kinds of food. There’s one stall that’s gotten pretty well known for its huge rainbow colored candy floss, which are indeed a sight to behold (but I held off for now, I needed to be hungry for dinner). My main mission here was finding a coat, but I got immensely sidetracked by super cute clothing everywhere. No coats that fit my criteria, but I sure had fun window shopping and I’m seriously considering a couple of outfits. Not the very fancy frilly gorgeous dresses, though. I mean, they are amazingly gorgeous and not as outrageously expensive as you might think (not cheap by all means, but I’ve seen more expensive clothes in my little home town) but still… I don’t think I’d dare to wear them? Also, those would definitely mean I have to buy a second suitcase, haha.

Once I went back and forth through Takeshita street, I went back to the station for my next stop on the Yamanote line: Akihabara station, also known as nerd central I guess, haha. Truth is, in earlier years I didn’t really like Akihabara. As it turns out, it really depends on what shops you visit. I know a couple now that mostly cater towards my interests, but there are also a lot of shops here that cater to a male audience, if you catch my drift. But now, I had a lot of fun window shopping and making a mental list of what’s available. I accidentally bought a couple of figurines last year and that’s definitely a trap, now I keep looking, haha.

It was cooling down, so I fled into the station for my final stop for today: Tokyo station. I was going to head to the café I had my reservation for, but it was like an hour and a half in advance, so I first strolled through the underground Tokyo Station city. There is a street called character street which has a lot of specialized merchandise stores, and I always struggle to find it, but today I just – walked right into it as I was looking for my exit for the café, haha. This time, I ended up buying a couple of clearfiles, and then I slowly made my way to the Yaesu North exit.

A short walk later, I was at my destination: the Pokémon DX store with adjacent Pokémon café! You can only get into the café for a meal if you have reservations. I found out in the nick of time that you only need a credit card if you want to pre-order exclusive goods, so I managed to make a reservation for today a week or so before I hopped onto my plane. I was still too early, so I did a lot of browsing in this Pokémon store. I’ve visited quite some Pokémon stores by now, but this one takes the cake. It’s roomy, big, interactive, and has a ton of products I haven’t seen anywhere else yet. Do you want a Pokémon plushie? You can literally get one for every single Pokémon from the first 2 generations, so like – 251. I was strong and steered clear of plushies today, but I did have a wishlist now, haha. There is also a long wall that shows the development of the games throughout the years, that was so fun and nostalgic to watch!

At long last, I got to enter the café! I was seated at the long table in the center, right next to the statue of Pikachu, and got to order my dishes through the tablet on table, which had multiple language options. Of course, I opted for the limited time Pikachu Halloween plate, and I also got a latte with Pokémon art on it. You can pick from the first 251 Pokémon, but I went with Eevee. I was going to get an Eevee mug separately, because I thought you could only order it with the hot cocoa, but it turns out you can get it with the latte too if you have the Eevee art, haha. So I got a receipt for my order plus mug and settled in to eat. But there was a surprise: Chef Pikachu came out to meet everyone! Japan sure loves its mascot characters, so you bet they have tons of Pikachu suit characters. (Heck, there’s a whole parade of them in Yokohama in summer.) Pikachu made his rounds to shake hands with everyone and seemed rather taken by the small Pikachu I had brought with me and remembered to put on my shoulder in the nick of time, haha.

The plate was actually pretty good! I mean, not haute cuisine, and you can definitely get more extravagant meals for this price elsewhere, but hey, will it be shaped like Pikachu with a witch hat? I think not. Don’t go to character cafés if you want quality food, but do go if you want to take in the atmosphere and enjoy the way the food looks. Japan is all about presentation.

I had a good time here, although I was too full for dessert, so I ordered a float drink instead inspired by the legendary bird Pokémon Articuno. It was a fizzy drink that was a tad too sweet for my taste, but hey, it came with a free coaster! For every drink, you get a coaster. You can pick a random card on a tablet, and that card determines which coaster you get. Since it’s Halloween season, you could also pick the official Halloween 2019 Pikachu coaster, which I had done for the latte. For the random pick, I got Espeon! Nice.

You can spend at most 90 minutes at the café before your time is up, so after my last photos, I made my way to the register to pay for my food, a set of clear files, and of course my new Eevee mug, which they promptly wrapped up nicely for me, so I can’t show a picture of it yet, haha. I then wandered into the store to grab some goods I had gotten my eye on (not all for me! I do souvenirs for others too!), and finally made it out again. Sadly, it had started to drizzle, so I walked to the station fast and made way to Ikebukuro.

So now here I am! Tomorrow is a holiday since it’s the enthronement of the Emperor, but they postponed the procession until November due to typhoon Hagibis (and I bet they don’t regret that decision now, what with the current weather). It doesn’t sound like there’s a lot to see for us mere mortals. Although I suppose this means I’m physically closer to my country’s king and queen than I’ve ever consciously been back home, as they’re attending the ceremony tomorrow, haha. Ah well.

With the weather forecast, I think I’ll go over to Ueno Park to visit the National Museum of Nature and Science, since I’ve been throwing that one longing looks since 2010, but never let myself visit before. And after that, I’ll see – maybe some karaoke? I’ll hold off on more shopping for now as Wednesday will be busy (Disney!), and then I’ll just see what the weather will do and what my safe options are, because I’m not gonna take unnecessary risks.

It’s getting late here, so I’ll upload the pictures tomorrow morning. Good night for now!