#noes is the only one that can actually pull it off help

[86espresso]

oh my GOd. take it away

MAKE IT STOP

[shalomniscient]

Okay I love domestic arle so much. It's so nice seeing her with children and being soft and domesticated but I think it's even cuter when you actually think about it from her perspective! Trying to follow sevchino lore so apologies if it doesn't.

Fourth Harbinger, the Knave, Father of the House of the Hearth, Arlecchino. She serves the Tsaritsa and as a Harbinger she's only known from the public as one of the bloodthirsty, savage, loyal, obedient dogs of the Cyro Archon. She's stained countless enemies, stained her hands with the blood of thousands, ten thousands, hundred thousands, who knows. Then she's the Father of the House of the Hearth, an orphanage unfortunately made for the production of Fatui soldiers. She tries her best to save as much children from pointless deaths and has raised them as best as she could for children that are of the Fatui. It's not enough, children still die on missions, still abused and hurt from the system she was brought into herself as a child of the House of the Hearth.

Even her body is a stark reminder of how 'monstrous' she is. She never minds her blackened arms but she is well aware that when people first spot them, they are terrified--rightfully so. The skin and claws are a part of her and it's one she accepts. So is the red cross in her eyes. However, for the briefest of moments when she forgets about her labels, in the comfort of her bedroom that is neither lived in or personal, she wonders what it'd be like to be stripped of those titles.

You make her forget about them. Even when the two of you were young, when she pulls you into her arms, when you intertwine your fingers with hers, when you kiss her so gently as compared to the harshness of this world, she does forget her titles. Here, with you, she's neither Harbinger or Father, with you she's just a lover. You make her impossibly warmer than anything her Pyro Vision can produce. Her loyalty may be for the Tsaritsa and she would die for her Archon, but even more extraordinary, she'll live for you.

And then. You get pregnant, and she's breathless, experiencing some sort of whiplash that catches her completely off guard, utterly vulnerable. The Fourth Harbinger, the Knave, the Father of the Hearth, is suddenly just a lover. And a father. For once, she's not a dog of war for the Tsaritsa, she's not a killer of many, and she's not a carrier of destruction. No, she created a life, something she could have never imagined possible, especially from her stained hands. She helped create something so beautiful and pure and blissful that she almost doubts that this is indeed a product of your two's love. But the baby growing inside of you is hers, hers to completely love without any restrictions from or regards to her titles. The only title that matters here is simply: father.

When little Estelle wraps her tiny hand on her finger, squeezing with as much strength as her baby muscles would allow, Arlecchino melts. Estelle is neither afraid of her arms nor does she twist away from disgust. Here, she learns she has so much more in life than Harbinger, Fatui, and House of the Hearth. She has you, and she has little Estelle (and noe later on).

Anyways. I love soft Arlecchino.

TEARS IN MY EYES ?? I NEED HER SO BAD 😭😭😭 soft arle………… when she finds out her wife is pregnant she’ll be so unbelievably tender LIKE ?? if she can, every night, she’s lying between your legs and resting her ear on your stomach, hands drawing idle shapes into your hips or thighs. you run your fingers through her hair and arle wants nothing more than to just melt into you.

from the moment she first feels the baby kick, she’s hooked. she’ll place a palm over your stomach to soothe the little one into settling down so as to not disturb your sleep. at this point, she always spoons you from behind in bed, and arm thrown protectively around your midsection.

the time between your third trimester and the first few months after the child is born is when arle’s protective instincts go into absolute overdrive. your home is filled with only members and former members of the house of the hearth—from the doctor, to the butler, to the maids, and everything in between. she has an elite handpicked group of guards posted around the grounds, and monitors them herself, taking status reports every hour or so. everyone in the home knows that their utmost priority, above even their own life, is yours and the baby’s and no one else’s. the knave has made that very clear the moment they stepped onto the grounds.

cw. childbirth

all that being said, god help her if there’s any complications during the birth. it’s the closest she’ll ever get to being truly, abjectly terrified. she keeps a brave face but she’s squeezing your hand as much as you’re squeezing hers. she’s half-leaning, half-lying in bed next to you, her other hand holding a damp towel that she uses to wipe your brow ever so often. she murmurs gentle words of encouragement between your agonized, exhausted cries, and tries not to show how much it scares her.

but she’d go through all of it again with you once she finally holds her child in her arms, a perfect little human that’s a mix of you and her.

HDGDJSKJDKSJSJS im so sick rn /pos i need to be held by my girlhusband……………. save me soft arle ………….. save me ………..

[tacticaldiary]

I love your new theme!! Also can I request a Vanitas x reader fluff in which the reader is sleep deprived? Like they got 8 hours of sleep in the past week. (This based of of on me since I got the same amount of sleep in the past week. #insomnia sucks) So they fall asleep in a meeting and Vanitas tries to wake them up, but Noe tells him that they didn't get much sleep so Vanitas caries them to their bedroom and when he tries to leave the reader pulls them back in the bed? I hope this wasn't to confusing 😅 I'm sorry if this was a bit detailed. 🙃

Sleep Deprived

Pairing: Vanitas x (G/N) Reader

Genre: Fluff

It irks him that she isn't taking care of herself, but when she can't help it, he's inevitably there to help.

Masterlist

A/N: I actually love this idea. The more detailed the better!

He sees them slowly leaning more on more heavily on the table out of the corner of his eye, but it's only when he hears a soft 'thump' that Vanitas turns his head to look at them.

Y/N is fast asleep, practically dead to the world next to him. How they managed to doze off during a strategy meeting escapes him. Vanitas leans towards them slightly and prods their arm with the cap of the pen he's holding. Nothing. Not even a flinch.

"Y/N?" He places a hand on their shoulder and shakes them gently. After a few moments where the entire room's attention is on them, Noe speaks up.

"I think it's better to let them sleep." He says, brow creased in concern. He'd noticed their fatigue increase over the past few days, but when he'd tried to bring it up with them yesterday, they had dismissed him with a laugh, telling him not to worry.

"They haven't been sleeping much, to my knowledge."

"What?" Vanitas narrows his eyes and gives them a once over properly. They really do look...dishevelled. There's always bags under their eyes, but right now, they're more prominent than he's ever seen them.

He's not noticed until now. How stupid of him.

"Well, since it's hardly alright to leave them uncomfortable here, I must excuse myself." He stands, pleased when nobody protests, and makes his way next to them. With a little manoeuvring, he manages to pick them up, one arm hooked under their knees, the other supporting their back. He can't deny the twinge of worry he feels when they barely even acknowledge him.

The walk to their room isn't far, the meeting being held in one of the rooms in the building.

"You really should take care of yourself better." He talks aloud, knowing they probably cannot hear him. That was fine. He nudges the door to their room open with his foot.

It's a fairly simple one, a room he's been in many times. Late night talk, him sneaking in even though there really was no reason for him to be sneaking, when it was perfectly acceptable for him to just use the main door-

He approaches the bed and gently lowers them down, taking more care that he'd like to admit, placing them gently on the mattress. Their head lolls to the side and now that Vanitas gets a proper look at them, he can really tell how badly exhaustion has settled into them.

Frowning, he allows his fingers to gently brush beneath their eyes. He didn't like the bags, reminders of how they were struggling. Sighing, he pulls his hand away, He should probably get back to the meeting now, though part of him wants to stay here with them. They look more relaxed than he's seen them in a while.

Shaking his head, he moves to stand from where he's sitting. He tries, that is.

A hand gripping the back of his clothes tugs him backwards. The strength is surprising for someone who was completely unresponsive to being jostled and carried. The tug, accompanied by how utterly unprepared Vanitas was, sends him falling onto his back next to them.

He stills as he feels them press against their side and sigh, a puff of air against the shell of his ear.

"Stay...stay please." They mumble, words slurred with sleep but still clear enough to decipher. He blinks as their hand comes up to loosely grip the front of his shirt, resting on his chest.

He's not one for such casual intimacy but...something inside him give way at how adorable they look, nuzzling into him and he can't deny the way his heart speeds up and the pretty flush of red creeping up the pale expense of his neck and ears.

He rests a hand on top of their head, his gaze unusually soft. There's no teasing smile or cocky smirk just...a gentle, fond expression.

"If that's what you wish." He says quietly as to not wake them up further. His smile widens at the way they seem to relax further into him at his words.

Requests Are Open

(20/12/2021)

[milkacchan]

Request for anon: Can I have Present mic, Aizawa, and all might where they learn their young student is fatherless? Like... their father walked out/went to prison when they were young. I'm sorry if this is time consuming, but I can't stop sobbing over my father.

I'm the situation baby but remember it wasn't your fault

I changed it up a little bit with Mics- I hope you don't mind

Present Mic:

• from the getgo something was wrong

• The moment you walked into class he could tell

• You looked like shit

• Dark bags under your eyes, hair messily brushed, just to get it out if your face, and your eyes were a light red.

• You didn't look particularly happy to be there either

• something turns in his stomach, a gut feeling that something really had went down

• And he hated seeing his students upset

• but he was relatively close to you to begin with, his felt different

• He felt like he had to do something

• Everyone settled into their seats as the bull rung but his eyes remained on you

• You honestly didn't pay attention during the lesson

• He could tell as much

• class finishes and the bell rings but you sit still, and it's not until most of the students have trickled out of the room do you start packing up

• He walks over and kneels in front of the desk "You okay there? You don't look so good," he looks concerned and his heart drops when he sees your lip start to quiver

• It takes you 0.27 seconds to break and you're frantically wiping your eyes as sobs wrack your body

• He's got his arms wrapped around you in seconds and you're leaning into his shoulder.

• He isn't sure exactly how long you're crying for but eventually you calm down enough to get out a coherent sentence

• "My-My dad was arrested Friday night. He won't tell me why- he won't let anyone else tell me why and I don't know what else to do," you cry, "I miss him so much and its only been a few days- I don't- I don't have anyone else, Mr. Hazashi,"

• And you're crying again.

• He has you take the rest of the day off, in fact he takes the day with you

• He calls in a sub (you don't know what strings he had to pull for that but you don't ask, at this point you don't care) and you two dip

• He takes you to get food, real food, that'll make you feel better

• He knows that'll help a little

• and after that he takes you to get something sweet- that tends to help mood and blood pressure and anxiety

• So he does his best with you

• He nutures you the best way he knows how

• if you need anything and I mean ANYTHING this man has you covered

• He does his best to step up in any way he can

• first off he extends his assignment deadlines and cancels two tests. Who needs them anyway.

• And you eat lunch in his classroom because he can well tell you don't want to talk to anyone else right now

• He closes it off (seemingly) so in reality its just you and him

• He'll probably tell Aizawa too but on the downlow (just so he knows)

• When holidays roll around, the dorms close.

• In this case- he let's you stay with him. He has an extra bedroom. He doesn't want you to stay in an empty house.

• You also get his phone number (which you gladly use) for anything really

• Bored? He'll deliver some shitty puns.

• Confused about homework? Text him.

• having a mental breakdown? He's got you covered.

• You got memes? Please for the love of God send them to him.

• The dynamic eventually shifts to a VERY father daughter relationship.

• He knows he'll never replace your dad. He understands that wholeheartedly, but he wants you to have someone

• He actually gets a letter from your dad, thanking him for taking care of you

• but he really doesn't mind

Aizawa:

• He had a feeling that there was something going on at home. Or rather, a lack of something.

• He's dealt with it in the oast- with himself and with past students and current ones

• Shinsou

• I mean, aside from that fact whenever parents were mentioned, you'd either stiffen up or wrinkle your nose

• You didn't really like the subject of parents

• There was an essay prompt about parents (nothing too personal) nd you ended up writing it on the extinction of dinosaurs and why God fucked up instead

"It'd be absolutely stellar to see huge lizards roaming the earth and occasionally stepping on people, you know? Jurassic park was onto something."

• Man's couldn't even fail you on it because it was written v well

• Anyway, he doesn't pry too much. He just silently figures it out by process if elimination and pattern.

• He doesn't really care too much

• In the sense if it doesn't define you and he doesn't help you because he pities you

• he helps you because he seems potential

• He takes you under his wing with shinsou

• Yall spend a whole summer training

• And that's when it all came out

• It was an accident really.

• Shinsou was tired, exhausted really

• and when people get tired- that tired- sometimes they spout random shot they wouldn't usually say

• and thats what he did

• he went on about his home life

• and if he could, you could too right?? You could trust them.

• "My dad walked out when I was a kid. Little, like 3. I have a few pictures of him holding me, but I guess it wasn't enough. I don't have any desire to meet him. Not anymore. But it left me feeling like I did something wrong? I guess? Which I suppose is why I train. Because then I feel strong. Which is a good difference from how it usually feels."

• He knew it.

• He called it.

• He was right again.

• He reassures you that you are good enough, strong enough, and his decision to leave had nothing to do with you

• and when he saw you give him a soft smile, he warmed.

• I mean really, it only goes up from there

• he'll deny it, or grumble under his breath, but he seems you two as his own

• Like these aren't my kids but they are my kids

• When dorms close on holiday yall get to stay because that's where he lives too

• Like if you chose too

• he's not gonna force you to stay but if you don't want to go home, you don't have too

• He has that power

• He will buy you food

• all you gotta do is ask

• and he'll roll his eyes and grumble something he doesn't really mean, just secretly happy that you feel comfortable enough around him to ask for something

• lmao family group chat

S: 'Hey Mr. Aizawa I found this cat. Hold on lemme send a pic'

A: 'Dont need a pic. Bring him home'

Y: 'What if he's ugly??'

A: 'gremlin. Bring him home.'

Or

Y: 'Hey I saw this tweet that said 'kids be like watch this and do a half roundhouse spin kick clap and waste my fucking time' and it make me think of you.'

S: @ mr. Aizawa when he has to watch deku do sumn

Y: Lmaoooo like when he threw the baseball

S: LMAOO

A: Me watching you too try to figure out how to beat me in training

Y: Yikes bro

S: That was a rough one

• Does he regret giving you and shinsou his number??

• Maybe

• Not really

• Lmao super secret lunch movie days

• Every week on wendesday yall watch a movie. Usually it takes 2 or 3 days to watch the movie since lunch is only 70 minutes

• @ you accidently calling him dad one day and shinsou snickering but it stuck

• dadzawa lmaoo

Allmight:

• Man's has 2 underlings.

• You and Deku.

• Picked you up when he started teaching at UA

• Ion know let's say one day you popped off bc he said some dumb shit and you were like no sir that's clearly wrong

• schooled him in his own damn subject

• the other kids were like 😳

• what the fuck

• Anyway

• He see's you have potential

• And though he's not the best teacher, you seem to respond better to the way HE was taught

• So tbh its easier to teach you

• 'okay, now I want you to beat the shot out if that wall,'

'Okay lmao bet'

• Midoriya is like, hey mayhaps we should analyze the situation

• N ur like noe

• You just don't give a fuck

• about anything really

• other than moving up the ranks

• But even then- its not a super super big deal, you're just gonna do your best but you aren't gonna stress

• However he noticed a pattern w you (even before Midoryia brought it up to him)

• You don't let anyone in

• Midoryia knows a bit more than the other students but that's really only because he's always with you

• a good majority of the week he's w you

• but its not really a deep connection

• you don't rely on either of them

• You do your best to do things on your own.

• He knows midoryias life story

• he knows why he acts the way he does

• but he doesn't know why you do

• he has a gut feeling it could be the same as midoryia

• I mean he already had one kid who's dad dipped

• he'll surely be able to figure out you too??

• So he makes himself a promise that he'll figure it out and he'll become someone you trust

• And he does just that

• When you tell him about your nightmare of a family history he's like mm, makes sense

• but he's happy that you trust him!!!

• He's a BIG suckered for movie nights

• he's got popcorn, snacks, candy, chocolate, soda- he's prepared

• list of movies lined out all ready

• I lowkey feel like he'd be into lord of the rings or fast n furious

• fast n furious at LEAST

• He's really into American action movies

• and he has no problem sharing those movies with you

• he doesn't have a whole ton of money, like he's not rich, but if you or midoryia need something he's definitely there to get it for you

• even if ur like fam no you don't need too

• he'll buy yell food a lot

• a l o t

• and cards

• when you and midoryia get him a father's day card he thinks he's gonna cry

• You guys also have a group chat

• 'da faemilee'

• Y: "Hey dad do you have milk?"

A: "???? Do I have milk????"

Y: "ya I'm looking in your fridge n ion see any???"

A: "How'd you even get in????"

Y: "Izuku."

I: "lmaoo"

Or

Y: Izuku you dumb bitch I left for ONE day

Y: And you got into a fight with Bakugou

I: He wanted to throw hands. I just did what you would do.

A: He's got you there

Or

A: What do you guys want for dinner

I: Sushi

Y: Chicfila

Y: Izu square up

I: K

Or

Y: Izu is fighting kacchow again

A: Beat his ass young midoriya

Y: Lmaoooooo

[kingofhearts709]

Bill and Ted do a scary movie marathon but then cant sleep

hello yes its no surprise that my first thought was nightmare on elm street so we're going with a 5 movie marathon of THAT up to the 1989 film HAHA 🤙 hope you enjoy!!

A/N: there are some very vague spoilers for the nightmare on elm street series (i mean like VAGUE) and also uhh small warning for like mentions of the slashing in the films?? its NOES i mean 🤷

this came out very kinda cute and idk if that's what you wanted but it's what my brain created 🎸

---

Bill and Ted have never done very well with especially scary movies.

Of course, they could handle one by itself, so long as it's followed up by something else lighthearted and definitely not The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

However, the newest A Nightmare On Elm Street was supposed to be coming out soon, and it was Bill's brightest of ideas that they marathon the first five in preparation for the plotline. The last thing Bill remembered happening, vaguely, is an unborn baby and something about a nun. Ted hardly remembered the first one.

Hence, the marathon.

"Dude, we're totally gonna dominate this horror marathon," Bill said as he started busting out the VHS box set, laying them side by side so he wouldn't forget what order they had to watch them in. "I highly doubt that we, as mature adults of modern society, will cower in the face of Freddy Krueger." Bill looked up to see Ted's face scrunched with pension, and immediately started to back away from the whole thing entirely, putting the first movie back down.

"I just...," Ted huffed where he was slumped on their couch, and whipped his head up to look at Bill. "Remember when we saw the first one in the theatre and screamed so loud that the attendant dude had to escort us out?"

"Yeah..." Bill remembered the memory well. They totally missed out on the ending of that movie the first time. Bill shook his head, "But Ted, that was, like, seven years ago. We've totally grown up! I'm sure that it'll be a most excellent experience."

Ted could hear the hope in Bill's voice, so he gave a small huff and a firm, brave nod for Bill to put the tape in. Bill pumped his fist as he inserted the tape, jumping back up onto the couch next to Ted and nearly knocking their popcorn bowl over. Bill suggested they start the marathon around five, considering they were about to embark upon nearly eight hours of monster movie magic. The two had already spent the afternoon together making sure they had easy meals for when they got hungry later.

Ted had almost wished they didn't need the marathon as an excuse to do so, but of course, it was quickly a thought to be pushed to the back of his head.

The opening sequence of the first film began, and soon enough, both Bill's and Ted's eyes were laser-trained on the small TV, Ted giving a jump at any scare and Bill giving a gasp at any gore.

They managed okay through the first one. "The first one's never the scariest, dude," Bill said with forced confidence, though Ted could clearly see him shivering as he set up the next tape. He was shivering too, and he kind of wished Bill would sit closer to him, just to make sure he was actually there, and it all wasn't a dream where Freddy was about to slash open his insides at the last second.

They pushed their way through the second and the third without moving from the couch, and Ted finally chanced a glance over at Bill as soon as the credits started rolling.

Bill was visibly shaking, in a way that made Ted wonder if he was having some sort of horror-induced seizure.

"Dude," Ted said quietly, and Bill blinked as he let out a deep breath and looked over at Ted. "Are you okay?" Bill swallowed as he nodded.

"I'm totally cool, duder," he said assuredly, though his face didn't say the same. "Uh... Snack break?"

"Yeah, dude, definitely." Ted looked up and over at their wall clock to see it was almost ten at night, and they hadn't eaten a single mouthful of anything since their popcorn. "I'm egregiously starved."

Bill nodded as he stood up before stopping completely in his tracks.

"Dude," he said, quiet. "I have a most terrible feeling." Ted swallowed thickly as he watched Bill turn away.

"Dude, whatever joke you're about to pull, I swear, I'll punch you," Ted warned immediately. "Don't."

"Dude, it isn't a joke, I think-" Bill suddenly whipped his body around towards Ted and Ted let out a loud scream as he cowered away from Bill's figure. Bill let out a relieved sigh and Ted slowly uncovered his face to see Bill rubbing at his back. "I twisted my back, dude."

"Oh," Ted breathed out. He shook his head, "Dude, I totally thought you were about to Krueger me." Bill looked at him for a long moment before he started to laugh, and Ted couldn't help but join in.

The thought was so ridiculous, of course, but Ted could never be too sure with the things he'd experienced in life.

"C'mon, Ted, let's eat dinner," Bill huffed as he stretched out a little more before heading to the kitchen to heat up their pre-made spaghetti. Bill returned five minutes later with two bowls of noodles and two forks, passing one into Ted's lap and setting the other on top of the TV before reaching for the next tape.

"Bill, dude, already?" Ted said as Bill slid out the tape and inserted the next (he'd have to remind himself to rewind them all later the next day).

"Ted, the sooner we get through them, the sooner we can be done," Bill reasoned as the fourth movie began, grabbing his bowl and sliding back onto the couch, this time within Ted's immediate reach. Whether or not it was intentional was beyond either of them.

"You make it sound heinous," Ted mumbled, though his eyes were already studying the screen with apt attention.

"Sometimes, my friend, you have to suffer to enjoy masterpieces," Bill mumbled back, mindlessly twirling his spaghetti in the bowl without picking it up.

The fourth movie ended more abruptly than either of them expected, with only half of each of their bowls eaten. Bill blinked into the suddenly eerie and dark room as he abandoned his bowl and fork and dove for the TV to stop the tape. The room went suddenly quiet and Ted didn't dare move.

"One more," Bill whispered despite the fact that they were the only ones there, and Ted listened to Bill insert the fifth and final tape.

"Dude," Ted pleaded, unsure what he was pleading for. Probably for Bill to finish and get back up on the couch so Ted didn't throw himself in a full-fledged panic. They'd already come so far and they weren't about to give up now, but it would help immensely if he weren't alone.

Bill jumped back up onto the couch, thigh to thigh with Ted as the last opening sequence of the night played in their dark living room at nearly midnight.

Bill's closeness was more distracting than ever, Ted almost missing the best and most heinously gorey pieces of the film every time Bill tensed up and shook against him. He's sure he'd been doing the same thing, though Bill didn't seem at all affected by it.

It was strange how fear seemed to literally bring them closer together, and it almost made Ted laugh at the thought that Freddy Krueger could possibly be some kind of ingenious cupid, creating connection through collective terrorising.

However, as he listened to the children sing Freddy's rhyme at the end of the movie, he thought better of that notion because Bill was hiding his face in his shoulder, and he was pretty sure no cupid would do such a thing as to make his best friend cry.

"Bill, dude, you're shaking," Ted whispered quietly. "The movie's over." Bill breathed in as he lifted his head to look at the TV, relieved to see that it was over. He subtly began to wipe at his eyes, and it amazed Ted how this had all been Bill's idea, and yet he was the one most terrified.

"Ted, I do believe," Bill began, doing his best to puff up his chest, "that we are truly the most bravest of all the brave." Ted smiled as he nodded. He would've made fun of Bill for getting scared were it not for the own lingering terror he was still feeling.

"Bill, we are most definitely two of the bravest men alive," Ted agreed with a nod. He paused for a second before adding, "Next time, though, maybe we should just see the new movie by itself."

It took a moment before Bill nodded, and they both collectively said, "Agreed."

Ted did the liberty of turning the lights back on and throwing out their half-eaten dinners, Bill putting the tape pile aside for rewinding later. They both finished and met up at their bedroom door before nodding and heading to their respective beds.

It was quiet as they slipped underneath their sheets, Ted reaching and turning off the bedside lamp, shrouding them both in darkness. Ted could hear Bill's unsteady breathing from the other side of the room, large breaths in and out like he was having trouble calming down.

Ted was having a similar issue, wincing every time he tried to close his eyes and seeing gruesome scenes from the movies behind the lids. He did his best to think about other, less Krueger-y things, but ultimately, it seemed like even through film, Freddy seemed to have a hold on both of them.

After nearly a whole hour of heavy breathing and occasional wincing, Ted finally spoke up, "Dude, I totally can't sleep."

"Yeah, me neither," Bill said instantly, taking another deep breath. "I keep thinking that Freddy dude is gonna get me as soon as I fall asleep."

"Dude, me too." Ted huffed. "You think if we fell asleep at the same time, we'd have the same dream? That way if he does end up coming after us, at least we'll be together."

"Ted, that's total bogus," Bill groaned, rolling over to look at Ted. "He isn't real."

"Yeah, but our brains think he totally is," Ted countered. "So, if we trick our brains into thinking he can't fight the both of us at once, maybe we'll get some sleep." A long silence seemed to stretch before Bill let out a snort, and Ted let one out right after. "Yeah, dude, that's definitely not how it works."

"Nah, dude," Bill laughed. "But your idea would be most outrageously correct within the Elm Street universe." Ted laughed as he watched Bill shake with his own in the darkness.

"Let's try to sleep, Bill," Ted said when the chuckles died down, and he tried to shut his eyes. The images still flashed, however, and he had to open his eyes again. Bill was still staring at him. "Dude, this is most non-triumphant."

"...Hey, Ted," Bill spoke up, voice nervous, and Ted gave him his undivided attention. "D'you... Like, would it be okay if-"

"-we shared the bed?" Ted finished the thought, and Bill let out a barely visible grin. "Yeah, dude."

Since Bill had the bigger blanket of the two of them, Ted was the one to climb under Bill's covers and lay down inches from his face. Somehow, this was far better than sleeping ten feet away from him. This way, Ted could feel him and make sure he was there.

"Hey, dude," Ted said, breath hot against Bill's face, and he managed a smile.

"Thanks, Ted," he found himself saying, and Ted furrowed his brows.

"For what, dude?"

"I would've never gotten through five of the most egregiously gorey and triumphantly horrific movies in cinema without you."

Ted laughed as he hid his face in Bill's chest, and Bill found himself holding him as he did so, until they were just lying there, together.

"And we'll get through the new one together, too," Ted mumbled into Bill, whose breathing had finally gone steady.

This time when he closed his eyes, he didn't catch the flashing images of Freddy Krueger. Instead, he saw the flashing images of Bill and his grin that said there was no way Freddy Krueger could ever best the both of them as long as they were together.

[davids-cartoon-corkboard]

I have said a Lot about the “Raph is a system” theory over the past several months, so this is something of a compilation post. It’s got some new stuff, it’s got some old stuff. (You’re reading Part 1) (Part 2 is here) (Part 3 is here)

---

Firstly, “system” is the term for someone with Dissociative Identity Disorder, or DID. (The term can also apply to some folks with OSDD.) Someone might develop DID after experiencing long-term trauma at an early age- roughly five or six years old. To paraphrase the DSM-V:

1. We’ve seen three (possibly four) distinct personality states who speak, act, and perceive others differently.

2. The personality states, or “alters”, don’t necessarily share memory, and Donnie insinuated in “The Clothes Don’t Make the Turtle” that Raph has a bad memory in general.

3. Problems arise when alters don’t get along or aren’t on the same page. That none of them seem to be quite aware they’re a system doesn’t help either; it’s hard to work on communication and cooperation when you don’t know they need to be worked on!

4. This whole situation isn’t a normal part of a broadly accepted cultural or religious practice, or just Raph playing make-believe. (Though I wonder if he had “imaginary friends” when he was younger...)

5. It’s also not because Raph’s been smoking the devil’s lettuce or whatever. “Pizza Puffs” was one long weed joke and he was the only one “sober” (not poisoned) throughout! We don’t see this happen to other mutants, so it’s not a bizarre side effect of mutagen either.

(I’ve seen a few people joke that Mikey has “multiple personalities”, but that’s a tad yikesy and also just plain incorrect. His “doctor” personas are something he does deliberately, and youngest siblings are just Like That.)

So yeah, Raph is pretty heavily DID-coded. We’ve seen four alters so far:

“Host” Raph (HR): He’s our everyday Raph. A “host” is an alter who fronts most of the time and takes care of “business as usual�� situations. They are often unaware of past traumatic events, such that they can appear “normal”. (Ex: the host of a child who lives with an abusive parent could be unaware of the abuse. Otherwise, they might cry or be uncooperative whenever the parent is near, further invoking their wrath. This unawareness allows them to be a “good child”, and stay under the parent’s radar sometimes.) Some systems have more than one host, but that the others have shown up so rarely in this story suggests HR is the only host (for now?).

Savage Raph (SR): Debuting in “Man vs. Sewer”, he’s a survival-oriented alter. HR probably could have defeated the Sando Brothers on his own under normal circumstances, but being in the middle of a breakdown doesn’t do much for your fighting skills. SR got pulled to the front to deal with them instead.

“Red” Raph (RR): “Red” is just a placeholder since we don’t actually know his name yet (or even if he has one, not all alters do), though I’ve also heard folks call him “Angel”. He’s got a “tough love” approach to problem-solving, which was probably a helpful thing in the past. LDM were no doubt rowdy children! We were (officially) introduced to him in “Pizza Puffs”.

Mind Raph (MR): MR could just be a manifestation of HR's thought process via Cartoon Goofery, but that possibility doesn’t give me anything to work with so I’m ignoring it. He’s pretty similar to HR, maybe a tad more upbeat. We (officially) met him in “Raph’s Ride-Along”.

When “Pizza Puffs” first aired, I was like “ah yes, this is the alter who has the cranky edgelord tendencies we’ve seen in previous iterations of Raph. He probably broods on rooftops in the rain when he’s in a bad mood.” Combining that with the whole “Red Angel” thing gives off some Batman vibes. And, of course, SR is similar to the Hulk. Those two heroes are pretty different, but they do have one major thing in common...

A sudden, violent loss. Given how prevalent rushing water is throughout “Man vs. Sewer”, I’m thinking a flood came through and separated Raph from his family. (You could probably argue that turbulent water symbolizes a turbulent subconscious? 🤷) Again, DID stems from long-term trauma, so Raph must have been gone for... a while. A couple of months, maybe more? It’s hard to say exactly; we have a little wiggle room when applying human developmental psychology to a human/turtle mutant. Since Splinter still needed to care for the other three, he wouldn’t have been able to devote much time to searching for Raph, and the New York City sewers go on for miles and miles. The longer Raph was alone, the more convinced he would have been that the others had drowned and he was the only survivor.

How old would he have been? I know the turtles are “different ages”, but they were all mutated at the same time so I’m pretty sure Splinter was just like “the littlest one is the youngest, the biggest one is the oldest, and the medium-sized ones are the middle children.” They’re all probably fourteenish by “Finale”. Back in “MvS”, Leo said, “You know how savage Raph gets when he’s alone”. He didn’t say anything like, “You know how savage Raph gets when he’s alone ever since such-and-such an incident happened”. This suggests that LDM straight-up don’t know something traumatic happened to Raph; they were too little to retain concrete memories of that time. In their minds, Raph has always been like this. Draxum isn’t known for his patience, so even though he wasn’t able to immerse the hatchlings in mutagen for long, they probably mature a bit faster than humans. And since humans usually can’t remember anything from before four years of age, three sounds about right for the turtles, though they would have been stronger and steadier on their feet than any human toddler. I doubt Raph would have survived otherwise.

I think he’s sort of... “stuck” back in that trauma. Catching food, building a fire, making a weapon, and getting camouflage aren’t the behaviors of someone who’s only been gone for a few minutes.

When SR called for help, I don’t think he was expecting anyone to answer.

But Raph did manage to hang onto something as he was swept away! It wasn’t much, but that little ragdoll gave him comfort while he was scared and alone.

(The rabbit design on Bruce’s pajamas is probably a coincidence, but...)

Raph seems the type to have sympathy for odd-looking toys. His knockoff Mrs. Cuddles plushie was the emotional crutch he needed back then.

And then he was separated from that as well. Lowkey associating Mrs. Cuddles with this traumatic event would explain why HR was so scared of her. That he doesn’t remember the trauma means he has no context for this fear, making it seem silly and baseless to him (and to the rest of his family), which is why he denied being scared at all in the first part of the “Mrs. Cuddles” episode. It would also explain why he collects teddy bears instead these days, they are a “safe” toy. (The moral of the story is to not make fun of triggers that seem silly.)

(I wonder what would happen if Mrs. Cuddles encountered Savage Raph? Perhaps he’d be quite sympathetic towards such a lonely little raggedy thing! Timestuck as he is, he probably wouldn’t question why a stuffed animal can talk... and it wouldn't be hard for her to persuade her “new bestest fwiend” to get rid of some “mean ol’ nasty sewew monstews” for her.)

That whole “sewer monsters” thing suggests Raph ran into... something while he was wandering alone. Y’all have heard those rumors about alligators living in the New York City sewers, right? Encountering Leatherhead could trigger a flashback.

It would be pretty easy to introduce Leatherhead into the narrative. One of the episodes the Rise crew had planned was titled “The Island of Dr. Noe”, and alligators have very impressive teeth. The Mirage comics had a story where Leatherhead and several cryptids were brought to an island to be hunted for sport.

Noe seems to have quite a few cronies/friends/rivals he could entertain this way. Since he’s got that obsession with Raph, Noe captures him as well, knocking him out with those darts so he can’t waste his energy trying to escape too soon. (Let’s just assume everyone’s powers are glitchy because they all hit another wave of puberty, meaning they can’t just curbstomp the lower-level villains lol.)

HR wakes up on the island and, of course, starts to panic because he’s lost and alone. While wandering, he runs into Leatherhead, which would trigger a flashback to getting attacked by that alligator all those years ago. But Leatherhead doesn’t want to fight! He’s just as scared and confused as HR is, and could really use a partner to help him survive this island.

HR and SR come into conflict because Leatherhead is/isn’t/is/isn’t/is/isn’t a threat. HR eventually wins out, reasoning that even if Leatherhead is that alligator, it wouldn’t be fair to judge him for what he did back when he was an animal.

But time and dissociation can make memories unclear. That our first look at Leatherhead was in Draxum’s “bluh bluh I’m gonna mutate all the humans” bit in “Bug Busters” means he’s a human-base mutant. He wasn’t the alligator back then, but the hunter tracking it. Leatherhead isn’t one of Noe’s targets, he is one of Noe’s guests! And he wants no one to interfere with his quarry, so he’ll play nice long enough for him and the snapper to take out the rest of the hunters and the freaks. Then the two of them will have the island all to themselves...

Years and years ago, Jack Marlin was a big game hunter prowling the New York City sewers in search of an alligator. He did manage to find and kill one, only to realize it had also been hunting! He had inadvertently saved the strangest little turtle creature.

Marlin had become too skilled at this point, the hunt held no challenge for him. This turtle sounded very young, and he was quite big and strong already. An adult could be tough and intelligent enough to entertain him. Marlin tried to get Raph to lead him back to “the others”. But Raph had been lost for some time, and as far as he knew, his family was dead. Hearing that put Marlin in quite the sour mood. A little mutant snapper is a better catch than none at all, so Marlin tried to haul Raph off. Raph fought back and bit off Marlin’s hand. He escaped, but lost his rabbit in the scuffle. Marlin retreated as well, taking some time to recover, scheme, and hunt other game. (And to pocket that rabbit. The blood loss had made him woozy, and he wanted to have some kind of proof he hadn’t just hallucinated the snapper.) Perhaps he turned that alligator’s hide into a vest, which provided the genetic material for his mutation when he eventually got bit by an oozesquito. Like his Mirage counterpart, Marlin didn’t take losing a limb as a sign he should retire, and instead got a tricked-out prosthetic. Who knows what he could do with it in such a mystic setting as Rise.

Raph eventually reunited with his family, but those distrustful, high-strung survivalist traits he had picked up weren’t helpful anymore. He once again had to be the good and patient big brother who didn’t bite when someone play-tackled him or shook him awake at three in the morning because they’d had a nightmare. Those two states gradually got partitioned off more and more, and now they know little, if anything, about each other.

So Leatherhead and HR are chasing away some mothmen or whatever, and things are going pretty well... until one of them knocks Leatherhead over and a familiar ragdoll rabbit falls out of his pocket. SR realizes that Leatherhead is Marlin and switches in to fight him off again. They’re evenly matched, or perhaps SR is even in danger of losing, when LDM arrive to provide support. Leatherhead is enough of a tactician to know that he should retreat. Donnie and Mikey pursue him while Leo stays behind, placing the rabbit in his stunned brother’s hands. “Remember when Pops made this for you? You were always really gentle with it, ‘cause he wasn’t good at sewing back then...”

(This thing really needs patching up, he’s got sewing stuff for whenever he needs to fix his bears/Blue isn’t a threat on his own/Wasn’t he just back at the lair?/Blue gave back the rabbit/Why does he feel like he got hit by a train?/Blue doesn’t want to fight?/ ...Leo?) And that’s enough for HR to switch back in. He’s probably missing memory from his whole time on the island, so while Leo does his best to tell him what happened, they don’t have enough puzzle pieces between them to truly figure out what's going on.

They defeat the bad guys, release the cryptids, save the day, etc. (Leatherhead managed to lose Donnie and Mikey in the woods. A battle for another day.) Once they return to the lair, HR gets help from Draxum to modify the memory spell from “E-Turtle Sunshine” so he can try to fill in the gaps. Surely he wouldn’t get rejected by his own subconscious... right?

Cue part three in the saga of Raph Punches Himself In The Face. SR isn’t happy that HR is essentially trying to poke at an improperly-healed wound, and attempts to chase him off. HR assumes that SR is just a psychic white blood cell like the Lou Jitsu constructs in Splinter’s mind, and retaliates.

But, of course, fighting is not the answer here. All that accomplishes is giving the body bruises. Eventually HR realizes “stay away” and “back off” are a little different than “get out”, and that SR is just scared. So HR tries another tactic. Over the following days and weeks, he tunes in to calmer memories and just sort of... talks. About what happened yesterday, about his teddy bear collection, about how he finally managed to get a good picture of that pizza pigeon. It takes a while to establish a connection, and even then, it’s spotty at best. Using the spell too much can cause headaches and nightmares. There are days when SR is nearby, and days when he’s not there at all. But he shows up when he can.

And then there’s awkward, stilted conversation and questions neither of them know how to answer and questions neither of them want to answer and more scrapes and bruises and strained silences and apologies, but they finally, finally reach a compromise. SR still doesn’t let HR near those memories, but he tells HR what happened as best he can. (The audience would see those memories, with SR as a voiceover.) Afterwards, HR still visits the mindscape that’s starting to become more solid. They talk some more, they watch light and shadow flow around them, they listen to half-forgotten lullabies on scratchy old cassette tapes. Eventually, HR doesn’t even need to use the memory spell, meditation is enough.

They’ll never get along all the time. But it’s a start.

(SR is going to be so clingy when it finally clicks for him when he finally lets himself believe that his family is alive.)

---

This took eight million years lmao. Parts 2 and 3 will come out eventually, they’ll focus more on MR and RR. Let me know if I need to tag this stuff as anything.

The usual disclaimer applies, I am not a system or a mental health professional so if you’re one or both of those things then feel free to give me some of that good good constructive criticism.

[choco-felix]

morning love ☆ ♡ bestfriend!jisung | 1.7k words

The coolness of the shower water chilled you deep inside, but you continued to let it fall against your skin; you were trying to pull yourself back into reality after waking up half naked beside your best friend, but, it wasn’t quite working. You sighed as you finally heated up the water, your shivering ceasing as you reached over to grab what you presumed was Jisung’s body wash. You let your hand graze over the front of the bottle before opening it, letting yourself take in the familiar scent of the liquid as you squeezed out a respectable amount.

You weren’t sure if your brain was working, but you couldn’t seem to remember anything about the night before other than...showing up at the club alongside Hyunjin, who had given you a soft smile and had left you by yourself at the bar. Everything after that was a completely blur until your eyes opened up under the soft sheets of Jisung’s bed and you had nearly screamed.

With a deep breath, you made your way back to his bedroom, having thrown on one of his t-shirts that was left inside of the bathroom (and of which looked clean). You were mentally preparing yourself to talk to him, about what might have or might have not happened the night before, but just as you entered the room, it was empty. “Is that my shirt?”

You whirled around to the sound of his voice, your eyes falling upon him scanning you from top to bottom, before raising his head to meet your gaze. “Um, yeah, it is...sorry, I should’ve asked—” You felt self-conscious at that point, suddenly aware even though it wasn’t the first time you had worn any of his clothes. “I just couldn’t find mine...”

Jisung shook his head immediately, “No! No, it’s fine. You don’t have to ask, I don’t mind. Uh, so, I made breakfast? Yeah, no, I made breakfast so, if you wanna...?” He trailed off, gesturing towards the kitchen; his eyes grazed past your bare legs as you walked off, his cheeks flaring up from the exposure as he looked away.

You had to say that breakfast with your best friend had never felt so awkward before, the two of you only stealing glances at each other every now and then while slowly eating the pancakes that he had cooked. They were—surprisingly good, considering his cooking skills had increased greatly since you had started teaching him. Just as you finished, you stood up to discard of your plate when Jisung swept by you, taking the dish from your hand instead.

You followed by as you watched him wash the dishes, your eyes moving from his hands and then trailing up his bare arms, stopping at the ends of his sleeveless shirt. Pursing your lips, you let yourself go for a few seconds, your mouth nearly watering over the sight of his hands. Your thoughts wandered, never leaving his hands while you imagined them moving up your thighs, stopping between the flesh near your core and inching his fingers just a little closer to where you needed to feel him before slipping them—

“—Y/N?” You snapped out of your daze, realizing that he was now standing in front of you with a concerned look on his face. “Are you okay? Do you feel alright or do you want a painkiller...or something? You don’t look like you have that bad of a hangover.” Jisung raised one of his hands to run through his hair, and you focused on it almost immediately that it made you embarrassed at how easily you were getting turned on by your best friend. The rings on a few of his fingers made you gulp, making him perk up. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah! Yeah, ‘m fine!” You answered a little too enthusiastically, not being able to rip your gaze away from those hands of his (had you not noticed them earlier?) until he sensed your look, making you glance away. “Um, yeah so I just wanted to ask—what happened? Like, yesterday?” What happened that I ended up in my underwear and in your bed at the same time?

“So Hyunjin got you drunk, like always,” he chuckled softly at the memory of your swaying figure, clinging onto him like a koala as you whined that your feet hurt. “And you insisted I take you to my place, so here we are!” He wasn’t quite sure if he should elaborate on what had happened after that, so he left it there, giving you a large gummy smile and moving to walk away.

“Wait! I mean, what happened after we got here?” You heard your own voice trailing off along with your self-confidence, and your grip that you had fastened on his arm slowly releasing as well. He seemed to get what you were going at, moving back in front of you.

“Well,” Jisung’s fingers drummed the granite counter, sending spontaneous shivers down your spine for some odd reason. “You said that you were—tired, so I brought you to my room but uh, I wasn’t planning on staying there! You kinda said I could stay there with you, so...” He looked back up at you after the words were said, but you still hadn’t gotten everything from him; there was something that you knew he was hiding. “...that’s about it.”

“Then w-why did I—” you weren’t sure how to word the phrase—wake up naked in your bed? “Uh, I wasn’t wearing any clothes though?”

“Oh,” he let out a laugh, startling you when he leaned sideways. “Right—so you pinned me down on my own bed and kept telling me to call you princess. But my best part was when you complained it was too hot and took your dress off, right on top of me, actually. Pretty shameless.” You buried your face into your hands, feeling your face growing an honest burn as he continued. “I thought I was gonna have to wrestle you to sleep or something, but you passed out like a second after that.”

“Oh my god,” you mumbled into your skin, shaking your head repeatedly. “I’m so sorry you had to see that, that was probably traumatizing.” So, good job Y/N, you did well. Stripped in front of your best friend this time, what’s next? Getting naked in front of him?

“It was a pretty enjoyable view,” he said without hesitation, making your heart skip a beat when you peeked at him through your hands. He was now wearing a custom smirk, one that grew wider into a true smile. “A gorgeous girl was sitting atop of me, practically yanking a tight dress off her equally gorgeous body; how could that be traumatizing? It was heaven.” Your mouth fell open at his words, your eyes going wide as you realized he was getting awfully close to you, now making sure his face was inches in front of your own. “Wanna send me to heaven again?”

“W-What is that supposed to mean?” You knew exactly what that meant, especially when he brought his hands up to your face, wriggling his fingers in front of your eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I know you have a thing for my hands,” Jisung chirped, one of his hands resting against your hot cheek for a second before he giggled. “Are you nervous? Don’t be nervous, it’s just me.” His fingers grazed past the softness of your lips, swiping across the bottom for a second before they moved past your parted lips, slipping into your mouth. “Suck on them, pretty girl.”

You obeyed, watching him carefully as you swiped your tongue over his flesh, a low sound coming from your throat as they inched further back into your mouth. “Yeah? You like that?” He pulled them out, admiring the way your saliva coated his flesh so perfectly. “You wanna ride them?”

Pursing your lips, you nodded eagerly, no longer caring about any dignity around your friend. Jisung chuckled at your response, “Or do you want me to fuck you with them?” His question was low, the earlier thoughts of yours being thrown out of the window to his blatant suggestion.

“Yes,” you got out, your thighs involuntarily rubbing against each other at the thought of seeing his fingers disappear into your hole. He groaned out at your response, pressing his lips to yours without warning. You slowed him down with a hand to his chest, molding your mouth against his own the way you had wished to do for so long. His hands wrapped around your waist, hoisting you up against the counter before pulling away to wriggle a hand between your knees, parting your legs apart.

With a push to your (his) shirt, he had his fingers hooked onto your panties already, pulling you back into reality as you stopped him with a hand over his own. He looked back up at you, a mask of concern falling over the primary lust. “We don’t have to do this,” he said slowly. “Do you want me to stop?”

With another gulp, you shook your head. “No, I just had to—think for a moment.” He nodded knowingly, tapping softly at your hips to get you to lift them, and then slid your laced panties far down your legs, leaving them discarded on the floor. You let out a sound that was an awkward squawk, almost, shutting your legs in an attempt to cover yourself. Now, you just felt stupid, going back and forth from yeses and noes.

“Let me see how beautiful you are, princess,” Jisung tried at his words, feeling you loosen up to the pet name almost without a second thought. He spread your legs as wide as they allowed, running his hands and up down your thighs as he drank in the sight of your already dripping pussy. “You’re making a mess in my kitchen. Already so wet...from these things?” He wiggled his fingers in front of you again, liking your eye widening reaction. “Well, don’t you worry, I’ll put them to good use too.”

Just as his hands trailed up your thighs, massaging the soft flesh, you couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. “Stop,” he removed his hands immediately, looking up at you. “Can we...not do this here?”

“Then my bed it is,” he said without hesitation, pulling you into his grasp and getting ready to give you the time of your life.

[marineduo]

I don't know if you have a prompt already. If yes ignore this. If no: "Thanks for being here with me. It's all I need to get through this."

Listen even if I have other prompts I’ll always take more. Never feel bad about sending them in. I don’t get that many anyways... 

Read On AO3

Wire glanced around the dingy basement, having accepted his fate long ago. He wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. Not for lack of wanting to, he’d much rather be in bed instead of wandering their base’s underbelly in the middle of the night, but it was too late to bail out now. He’d already given his word.

“Thanks. For being here with me.”

Wire turned to the source of the quiet voice. Heat was standing by a door, his hand on the knob and completely still. He also went still, waiting for the other to continue.

“It’s… All I need to get through this.”

“Well, it’s not like I had anything better to do.” It wasn’t a complete lie. Sleeping would be much better, but he hadn’t been keen on going to bed without the other there. “What are we looking for anyways?”

“I don’t know.”

Now that was a lie. He could hear it in Heat’s voice. Most times he’d just leave it be, but this wasn’t most times. He knew better than most how high strung his partner could be, even more than their captain. But their captain and Killer still knew, and had always let Heat wander and check things if he wanted to, even when on the Victoria Punk. Usually it only put Heat at ease, but every now and then it ended up saving them a lot of future trouble. This time, though, he seemed to be looking for something specific and knowing would at least speed things up.

“Right.” Wire watched as Heat ducked into the room, poking around before coming back out. “It’s impressive. You have no idea, but seem to know what places you want to search.”

Heat stopped just long enough that Wire could catch up, wrapping his arms around him to keep him from wandering off before finding out just what he was looking for.

“I’ve got a bad feeling about tomorrow. I trust Captain and Killer, but…”

“But not that damned musician or the creepy guy. You’re checking if we have any... early guests.”

All Wire got in response was a worried sigh. He kissed the top of his partner’s head briefly. It wasn’t the strangest thing he’d been worried about, and he couldn’t say he was completely at ease with the next day’s events either.

“We’ve searched this whole place twice now. If we haven’t found anyone by now-”

“I know, just… One more time? Just to be sure.”

He turned the other around, gripping his shoulders tightly.

“I’ll make you a deal. Noe owes me a favor, I can have him do a round and we can get some sleep. We’ll be no good to anyone if we’re dead on our feet tomorrow.”

“Fine.”

---

The walk back to their room was slow. Wire found himself having to more or less pull his partner along so he wouldn’t try to re-check all the rooms they passed along the way. It had always been interesting to see the shift in how he acted when he got nervous about something. His cool, calculating demeanor being replaced with one more akin to an easily spooked horse.

Eventually they made it to their door, and after some final reassurances the two parted ways. Wire lingered in the hall for a minute, making sure Heat wasn’t about to try wandering back down to the basement again, before finally moving on to Noe’s room. It wasn’t far, thankfully.

Wire knocked hard before stepping back, arms crossed. If he hadn’t been awake before, he would be now. Shuffling came from inside the room before the door swung open.

“It’s like, one in the morning man.” Noe croaked. It seemed he’d been asleep before Wire’s visit.

“I need you to do me a favor.”

“Now? Can’t it wait?”

“No. I need you to check the basement for me. Any place a person could hide.”

Noe let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair.

“Damn, not you too. Haikei already had me runnin’ around to help him prep for tomorrow and now this…”

Well, it seemed Heat wasn’t the only one to have a bad feeling about tomorrow. He’d have to let him know once he got back. The extra preparation might make him feel better, if nothing else.

“Do it and I’ll consider us even.”

That seemed to wake him up.

“What, like, even even? I won’t owe you anymore?”

“If it means Heat’ll actually sleep tonight, yes.”

The door slammed in Wire’s face, admittedly startling him a bit. Inside he could hear… something. It sounded like Noe was throwing things, but he couldn’t exactly be sure. He went to knock once more but the door swung open. Noe stood in front of him, now fully dressed though still a bit disheveled from his rush.

“If I find anything I’ll let the Captain know!”

With that he was gone, all but sprinting down the hall. It felt like a silly thing to call in that favor for, but he’d simply have to live with it. Knowing Noe, it wouldn’t be long before he owed Wire something again. Besides, it was worth some peace of mind.

Wandering back to his own room, he half expected Heat to be gone when he arrived. Thankfully he wasn’t. Instead he’d changed into what passed as pajamas for him, and was sitting in bed reading. If Wire hadn’t been with him only a few minutes prior, he never would have known he’d been so nervous. He ducked into the bathroom, quickly getting ready himself before joining the other in bed.

The two laid in the dark for a while before Wire spoke.

“Noe’s doing one last sweep of the basement. Apparently Haikei had him running around earlier. Seems you aren’t the only one with a bad feeling about tomorrow.”

“Thanks. I know I asked for a lot tonight.”

Wire reached out, finding Heat and pulling him close.

“If it made you feel any better, it was worth it.” His voice was a whisper as he gently rubbed circles on the other’s back.

It wasn’t long before he heard the other’s breathing even out. Only then did Wire let himself start to drift off. He couldn’t say how the meeting would go, but that was something he’d worry about in the morning.

[artificialqueens]

Sleeping In The Hallway (Biadore) - Whiskey Neat

A/N: I’m back sooner than expected! I’m really trying to fill the list of like 30 prompts I’ve made for myself but I’ve been running quite low on motivation lately. I can’t promise my next fic will be out soon but I’ll always be around. Hope you enjoy this one!

Summary: Adore is drunk and Bianca is mad at her.

TW: vomit (nothing graphic)

Adore was in the middle of downing shots at the bar when her phone vibrated in her pocket. After messily reaching for it, the device slipped though her fingers, tumbling down to the floor.

“God I wish Bianca was here to pick this up for me” Adore thought as she stumbled off the stool and crouched down, feeling around on the sticky floor for her phone. “Where is Bianca anywa- oh fuck.” Adore panicked, as she picked up her phone and saw a text from Bianca on the screen.

Willow: Guess you’re not coming back tonight. Hope you had fun with all your FRIENDS!*insert alcoholic drink emojis*

“Bianf Im so sorey i come baxk noe” Adore typed out in a rush, slamming some random bills down on the counter before stumbling toward the exit of the bar.

On the short walk back to the hotel, Adore had time to put her thoughts together, as together as her drunken brain would let her, that is. How could she have lost track of time like this? She was supposed to meet Bianca back at their shared hotel room at midnight so they could spend some quality time together before they would have to part ways tomorrow. She checked her phone again. It was currently 2am. Another text from Bianca simply reading “Don’t bother.” also showed on the screen.

She really fucked up. Not only had she missed out on quality Bianca time, but once she reached the door of their room the realization hit her that she had also forgotten her room key.

After trying the handle, only to find it locked, Adore knocked a few times and waited. To her dismay, she was met with silence.

She tried knocking again to no avail.

“B?” She whispered, leaning against the door. “Can you let me in? I lost m’key.”

No response. By now, Adore was growing frustrated. Bianca had texted her less than 10 minutes before and she knew the older queen never fell asleep this fast, which could only mean one thing…she was ignoring her.

That assumption was very correct. Bianca was indeed still awake, listening to every word from where she was laying comfortably in their hotel bed. Was she being immature for not letting the younger queen in? Probably. But was she going to open the door for her at any point tonight? Absolutely not. If Adore wanted to be irresponsible and spend her night drinking instead of following through on their plans, then she could find her own place to sleep.

“I know you’re not fucking sleeping! Open the door!” Adore whisper-yelled, a bit too loudly. The alcohol in her system was quickly excelling her frustration to a level she didn’t know how to contain.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now!?” Adore continued, resorting to kicking the door with the toe of her sparkly doc marten boot.

After being met with more silence, angry tears started welling in her eyes.

“C’mon Bianca! This is my room too! You can’t just leave me out here!” Adore whined, voice breaking.

Silence.

“Don’t do this to me…” she sobbed, falling to her knees as her drunken state wouldn’t allow her to stand anymore.

After being met with silence yet again, Adore shifted to curl up on her side on the dirty hotel carpet, continuing to sob loudly.

A short while later, a familiar presence entered the hallway.

“Adore? What’s happened?” The Australian accent asked with worry.

Adore removed her hands from her mascara-streaked face and looked up to see Courtney kneeling in front of her.

“Bianca hates me!” she cried, sitting up and throwing her arms around Courtney.

“I’m sure that’s not true Adorm, why do you think that?” The blonde asked, rubbing her back.

“C-Cause she’s mad at me and she won’t let me in and I’m a fuck up and-and-“ Adore explained, working herself up into hysterics again.

“Hey, it’s okay….breathe….breathe…” Courtney coaxed, guiding the dark haired queen through some deep breaths.

“How bout you stay in my room tonight and we can deal with Bianca tomorrow, okay?” The Aussie offered, helping Adore stand up.

Adore nodded and wiped her nose, allowing Courtney to basically carry her down the hall to her room.

Once in the room, Courtney guided Adore to bed. After downing a bottle of water, Adore had passed out, leaving Courtney awake to send one simple text to Bianca.

“You’re babysitting this hangover in the morning. Not me.” She sent, attaching a picture of the sleeping queen next to her. With that, Courtney switched off the lamp and went to sleep.

*the next morning*

Adore could feel the nausea coming on before she was fully awake. She rolled over and groaned, trying to ignore it, fearing that her head might actually explode if she had to open her eyes to make a run for the bathroom.

She managed to drift off for about 5 more minutes before her stomach lurched dangerously and she absolutely HAD to get up and make that dreaded run for the bathroom.

Halfway through vomiting up all the alcohol she had consumed the night before, she felt a hand brushing her hair back and holding it out of her face.

When she was finished, Adore whimpered miserably, resting her forehead on the cool porcelain bowl, feeling awful and gross.

“You’re okay…” Said a gravely voice from behind her.

The voice didn’t belong to Courtney like she had expected. Instead she turned to see that it was Bianca who had been holding her hair back. Adore froze and fought back the urge to vomit again as the memory of last nights events came back to her.

“What are you doing here?” Adore croaked, feeling slightly embarrassed of how rough her voice sounded.

“Courtney told me you were here.”

“Yeah, but like what are you doing…here?” Adore asked, motioning to where they were seated on the bathroom floor.

“Helping you?” Bianca stated, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Thought you were mad at me…” Adore said, turning back towards the toilet as another wave of nausea came over her.

“Mad? No. Disappointed? Very.” Bianca replied, pulling Adore’s hair back once again.

“M’sorry….” Adore mumbled when she was finished.

“I just wanted to spend time with you. We’re not gonna see each other for what, 2 months after this?” Bianca admitted, handing Adore a bit of toilet paper to wipe her face with. “So when you stayed out to drink, something you can do on any other night, it was just really disappointing since we already had plans, you know?”

“I know…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I really did plan on coming back but then I lost track of time and-“ Adore cut herself off to clear her dry throat. “Can you get me some water please?” She asked with a pout.

Without a word, Bianca exited the bathroom and returned moments later with a bottle of water.

“Thanks” Adore told her, chugging half of it before continuing. “I lost track of time, and I know that’s a shitty excuse but I’d never do that to you on purpose. I’ve been trying to not drink so much lately but last night was just….yeah. I’m sorry.”

“Mistakes happen, I get it.” Bianca said, pulling Adore in against her side for a hug. Adore rested her head on the older queens shoulder and they sat like that for a bit.

“I can’t believe you were gonna make me sleep in the fucking hallway” Adore half-joked a few minutes later.

“I can.” Bianca deadpanned, holding back a laugh. The situation suddenly becoming funny now that everything was okay between them. “Now can we get off this floor? Courtney and I brought breakfast.”

“Only if you let me borrow your key so I can go brush my teeth.” Adore said with a smirk.

Bianca handed said item over to Adore. “You better not lose it. Otherwise we’ll both be sleeping in the hallway.”

[schrijverr]

I do my Husbands Make-Up

Dean attempts to do Castiels make-up.

Part of the Famous Husband verse, which is also a series.

On AO3.

Ships: Destiel

Warnings: none, but tell me if you want me to tag anything and I’ll do so happily!

~~~~~~~~~~~

“Oh no, I’m fucking this all up.” Dean said, in his hand he held a mascara and Castiels face had a big black smudge on it.

Then the intro rolled, it was a drawn impala that came down the road, it stopped in the middle of the screen and the drawn Dean gave a wink to the viewers, then he sped off again and the smoke was bridge back to the video.

They were sat next to each other, Castiels face now still free of black smudges as Dean started the video: “Hi Hunters! Welcome back, today I am making my already beautiful husband even more beautiful, which is frankly impossible, but I’ll try, with make-up.”

He looked at Cas and said: “I have no skills in make-up.”

“I’ll guide you.” Cas told him with a fond tiredness.

Dean grinned: “Great! Lets start and get you glammed up.”

“I knew showing you the beauty vloggers was a bad idea.” Cas groaned.

“What? Don’t you want me to beat your mug and spill the tea.” Dean smirked, only for Cas to groan louder and thunk his head on the table. Before the jump cut you could hear Deans cackle as it slowly faded.

Then they were facing each other and Dean was applying foundation with a beauty blender as he muttered: “This still looks like a buttplug.”

“And still it isn’t one.” Cas told him.

“Could be.” Dean argued.

“If I shove it in you ass, you’ll find that it really isn’t.” Cas said deadpan, making Dean choke before he laughed.

The deadpan expression changed into shock as Cas said: “You’re cutting that out, right?”

A mischievous grin came on Deans face as he replied: “No.”

“Dean.” in an obviously warning tone.

“Are you willing to do the laundry for a month?” Dean asked, either ignoring or not picking up on Castiels tone.

Cas squinted and the screen faded to show a picture of Dean folding shirts with underneath the text: He wasn’t willing

Dean had gotten Castiels permission behind the scenes and if Cas really hadn’t wanted him to put it in, he wouldn’t have, but this was funny, so he framed it as this.

The foundation was done and Dean sat back to admire his work and commented: “That was the easy part, look at your face now angel, cause it’s only going to get worse from here.”

Cas raised an unimpressed eyebrow and asked: “What happened to making me even more beautiful?”

“I remembered I cannot do this.” Dean told him with an open honest grin.

“Assbutt.”

“Live to please, darling.” Dean looked back to the table, “So, what now?”

“Contour.” Cas said.

Dean lit up and exclaimed: “I remember this, it’s the shadows on the face cause it’s flat now, right?”

“Yes.” Cas encouraged enthusiastically.

After having located the contour, Cas carefully explained what Dean was supposed to do with it, Dean listened closely before he started. He was about halfway through when he stopped to look and said: “This is terrible, sorry angel. I swear I’m trying and not deliberately fucking this up for the video.”

“I know, Dean.” Cas smiled at him before casting a quick look in a mirror, “It is quite difficult, god knows I struggled with this when I first started. Just try and blend it in so it isn’t so heavy.”

Dean smiled back, before trying to fix it. Cas now had two dark stripes on his face, because Dean had put on way to much, so he took a big brush and desperately tried not to fuck it all up even further.

With as much saved as possible Dean grabbed the concealer and held it up to Cas, who nodded. Dean mumbled under his breath: “Still don’t think you need it.”

That got him a kiss on the nose along with a: “That’s very sweet of you, Dean.”

The blush that spread on Deans face had been edited out by Dean and the video resumed when Dean was blending the concealer.

“You can press harder if you want.” Cas said.

“But I don’t want to hurt you accidentally.” Dean sounded worried.

It made Cas smile, who assured Dean: “It’s a sponge, a pretty solid sponge, but still a sponge. I don’t think you can really hurt me by beating me with a sponge.”

You could visibly see worry leave Deans shoulders, but he didn’t show it otherwise instead boasting loudly: “You forget that I would not only be beating you with a sponge, but also my enormous arms.”

He flexed for show, keeping it up until Cas snorted, before also laughing and returning to his task, this time a bit less like Cas was something too fragile to touch.

When he was done he said: “I think you also did blush right around now, but I think I will not be able to do that properly, so I’m not giving you a blush, not matter how much I’d love to see you with a cute blush on your face.”

Dean actually sounded quite sad that he would have to miss out on Cas with a blush, so Cas offered: “I can do it, you can edit it out and no one has to know.”

“Hmm.” Dean thought about it, then said: “I’ll keep it in, but please do.”

He held out the blush and Cas took it as Dean held a mirror in front of his own face wrong way ‘round, so that Cas could use it apply the blush. Dean asked: “How do I look with your face on my body?”

“Twice as handsome.” Cas told him.

Immediately the mirror dropped and Deans offended look emerged from behind it, Cas suppressed a smile and said disappointedly: “Ahw, it’s still you.”

“I am appalled and offended that my own husband, who has willingly married me and did so happily as I can recall, would just turn around and wound me like that. Stabbed in the back by the man I trusted most, I cannot believe this injustice.” Dean exclaimed loudly.

He was putting on a whole show and after a while Cas broke and laughed, before saying: “I’m joking, Dean. You are very handsome and I love your face.”

With a grumbling pout, Dean wearily asked: “You sure?”

“Completely.” Cas gave him a peck, then asked: “So what do we think of the blush?”

In his theatrics Dean had forgotten to look, but now he took the time to inspect Castiels face with the blush. It was subtle, but cute. He had even put a bit on his nose, so it looked like he was slightly cold. Dean couldn’t help, but pull him into a hug as he said: “You’re so incredibly precious, sweetheart.”

Cas allowed Dean to do this, clinging to Dean as well as it cut to Dean saying: “Now comes the hard part. I am doing simple things, like glossy lipstick with little color and white glittery eye make-up, the only difficult thing I will attempt is eyeliner and mascara.”

“Maybe put on power first, to bake the face.” Cas reminded him.

“Ah, yes. That. I was already planning on doing that.” Dean tried to put down the highlighter as subtly as possible as he grabbed the powder.

Cas rolled his eyes, but didn’t comment, because he didn’t face a mouth full of powder.

It cut to Dean applying highlighter, it had actually gone well and he was very proud of himself over it. He took the lipgloss and carefully put it on. He slipped at one point and looked up at Cas with wide eyes as he froze.

Patting his head distractedly, Cas wiped it away, before turning back and allowing Dean to continue even more carefully this time.

“I really don’t think me doing this is safe.” Dean said as his eyes flitted between the eyeshadow and Castiels eyes.

“It’ll be fine, I’ll close my eyes and you’ll put it on gently.” Cas assured him, before closing his eyes.

Dean hesitated for one more moment, before starting and saying: “Okay, but I’m sorry in advance if this goes entirely wrong.”

It didn’t even look like Dean was touching Cas with how gentle he was. His hand shook a bit and the end result was quite bad. The eyelid was covered for the most part, but so was the area surrounding it.

“Keep them closed, I doing eyeliner next.” Dean warned.

The line was horrible, it went practically over the middle of the eyelids and one went out too far and the other barely and they definitely didn’t have a shape. While he was applying it he kept up a constant stream of ‘oh noes’.

When he was done he said: “That looks completely shit, sorry. Can you tell me how to do mascara before I ruin that completely as well?”

It then cut to how the video had started: “Oh no, I’m fucking this all up.” Dean said, in his hand he held an mascara and Castiels face has a big black smudge on it.

Cas opened his eyes slowly and made eye contact with Dean, who look apologetically at him. He asked: “Want me to fix it?”

“Please.”

Then it cut to a few shots of Castiels make-up. It was pretty bad with too much contour and entirely fucked up eye make-up, but it could’ve been much much worse.

Cas had already seen the make-up throughout the video, so there wasn’t a reveal moment, but there was a brief clip of Cas looking into a mirror and saying: “This is not as bad as I expected, congratulations.”

And Dean beaming proudly at the complement.

It cut to the endcard and Dean said: “That might not have been the most entertaining video, because I was focusing a lot on the make-up and not on the banter, but I hoped you liked it anyway.”

Cas piped up next to him: “I enjoyed it.”

“Thank you, angel.” Dean smiled, “If you enjoyed it too, please leave a like and a comment down below and click the subscribe button and ring that bell to see when I upload again. There will also be links to click to see more of me and more of Cas, so click on them if you want to. And that was pretty much it. Wanna do the outro?”

“Uh, sure?” Cas said very unsure, then turning to the camera he smiled awkwardly: “Bye Hunters, see you on the road.”

“Bye!” Dean called out, then the video ended.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I love how much Dean actually

tried, what an A+ husband

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

cass doing the outro was so cute

we stan an awkward cute nerd

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

DEAN ACTUALLY WATCHED THE BEAUTY VLOGGERS LOLLLLLL

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dean was so gentle with Castiel

and I’m literally crying, I want

someone who treats me like that

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

the beauty blender buttplug

moment, i cant

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

is he really not going to say

anything about the fact that he

has a fucking kid? alright….

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dean using gay beauty slang

both added and retracted ten

year of my lifespan

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I wouldnt mind if dean beat me

up with his enormous arms ;)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

This was so incredibly mushy,

would 100% get a tooth rotting

fluff tag on AO3, and I loved

every second of it

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

SO CUTEEEE

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

[wonderwomanfantasy]

sins of mortals part ten

ohohoh BOY HERE WE GO

master list

Sirius Black x Slytherin! reader

word count: 2,400 (about)

warnings: language, drinking, that's about it. 

summary: let's see what Sirius is thinking about everything

Sirius couldn’t help but smile, something was exhilarating about fighting with you. The fire in your eyes was sexy as hell and when he managed to win that fight, there was nothing more satisfying.

He remembered when he had first seen you.  He was a scrawny eleven-year-old waiting on the train platform, his mother fussed over his hair and lectured him on what not to do while he was away. Sirius wasn’t paying much attention to her. He was distracted by all the bright colors and moving people. suddenly his mother grabbed his ear and yanked on it.

“you listen to me when I’m talking to you Sirius Black,” she hissed

“Yes Mum,” he sighed 

“you see that girl there,” she asked pointing a boney finger at you, a girl getting fussed over and yelled at by her own mother. 

“yes,”

“you stay away from her, far away. She’s rotten” his mother hissed. Sirius nodded and agreed to avoid you at all costs but it was a lie. If his mom hated you then you couldn’t be all that bad.

Sirius couldn’t understand why his mother didn’t like you, you seemed like the perfect little stuck up Slytherin. Then he heard you talk about Muggle Borns for the first time. 

“There is no difference between a pureblood witch and a muggle-born one maybe if you pulled your head out of your ass Malfoy you would understand that,” Sirius couldn’t believe you were the one who had said that, he probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. 

Sirius chuckled just remembering that. It was the first and the last time he had ever heard a Slytherin talk like that. 

“what’s got you so smiley?” Remus asked nudging him in the side, pulling him from his memories. Sirius beamed wider and strode happily into his dorm room, Remus holding the door open for him.

“I just convinced the prettiest girl in the world to come to our party,” he said smugly setting down the crate of butterbeer and pushing it beneath his bed. James groaned loudly.  

“Don’t just don’t” James snapped crossing to him and gripping Sirius’s shoulders tightly

“Don’t you dare fall in love with (y/n),” James demanded shaking him slightly.

“I’m not in love with her hopelessly infatuated maybe-” Sirus joked, although it wasn’t as fake as he would like to pretend. 

“Do we need to do a pros and cons list, Sirius?” James asked before Sirius could tell him to fuck off Remus summoned a blackboard. 

 “guys come on-” Sirius protested but James was already writing a list. 

“let's start with the cons,” James said pushing his glasses up his noes and rolling his sleeves up

the list ended up looking like this 

Cons

- She’s a Slytherin

- She practices black magic

- Friends with Snape

- Terrible taste in clothing

- Wearwolfphobic

“I don’t think that’s a word,” Remus cut in 

“Who cares it gets the point across doesn’t it?”

“I don’t think we can say she has terrible taste in clothing we’ve only seen her in her uniform,” Petter added thoughtfully.  Sirius looked at the list. “pros?” he asked hopefully. 

Pros

-Sirius is an idiot.

 He looked at the list and thought. He remembered the boggart in class, you had shrieked like everyone else when the werewolf appeared. Remus was more important to him, no doubt. he sighed

“what do you want me to do James? Uninvite her from the party?” he sighed. 

“Just promise me you aren’t going anything stupid,”

“I promise-”

“No promise” James held out his pinky to him.

“We aren’t children Prongs!” Sirius cried nocking back his pinky

“You Have to!” he whined shoving his finger back in Sirius’s face. 

“Merlin,” he cursed before forfeiting his pinky. “I pinky promise that I won’t do anything dumb.” James smiled

“right, now we can talk about what’s really important. Evens made me chocolates-” Sirius instantly tuned out of the conversation, and let his mind wander back to you. 

 Sirius was buzzing with excitement, he couldn’t sit still at the breakfast table.

“I don’t know why you’re freaking out it’s just a practice match.” Remus sighed 

“A Practice match that the whole school is watching,” Sirius pointed out. 

He was the first one in the stands watching as everyone filtered in. Sirius liked watching people, an Incubus trait he supposed. But he liked making out people's expressions, guessing what they were really thinking and figuring out their secrets. you were good that way, all of your feelings bubbled right to the surface when he talked to you. there was never any guessing. He snapped out of thinking when someone poked his cheek. he blinked and locked eyes with you

“Hey Cutie,” he purred reflexively. the soft upward tilt of your lip quickly dropped to a frown

“Do you always have to ruin the mood Black? Here I was trying to be nice-” you ranted then he noticed the Scarf wrapped around your neck. it was red and gold instead of the yellow and black he was expecting.

“So I see you decided to rep Gryfindor after all,” He said cutting you off. your cheeks flushed a deep red. 

“I found it in the dorm rooms,” you mumbled. he quirked an eyebrow up at you silently asking for you to continue “Yumi gets around, probably one of her blokes was in a rush to get out and he left it behind,” you said. he hummed and patted the seat next to him, still, he was surprised when you actually accepted and sat next to him.

“Don’t look so shocked, No self-respecting Slytherin would be caught dead near me while I’m dressed like this,” you said haughtily. his grin widened, 

“their loss,” He shrugged. and all the better for him, he thought but said nothing. 

you were unnervingly calm during quidditch matches, you sat perfectly still while everyone around your screamed and jumped up around you. your eyes followed the players meticulously, your posture perfect, your hands folded neatly in your lap. Merlin, you were posh.

he leaned in and whispered in your ear “would it kill you to relax a little?” He asked making you jump. you scowled

“I am relaxed,” you huffed, “I’m having a grand time,” he rolled his eyes. 

“if this is you relaxing then I can’t wait to see you party,” he laughed 

“I told you, Black, I’m fun at parties,” you defended. He was so busy glaring at you and trying to think of a witty comeback that he missed the Snitch as it flew neatly into Potter’s hand. everyone around you roared around you. Sirius jumped up to try and get a glance of what he missed, but it was too late the game was over. 

“don’t pout, I thought you were excited for the party,” you teased nudging him in the side. he offered you his arm and was surprised for a second time when you actually took it

“well lead the way, Black,”

Despite your, Nemours claims that you were a ‘party girl’  Sirius could tell this was probably the first party, still, you made a good show of nodding your head to the muggle music playing and accepting the butterbeer he gave you.  He wanted to stay by your side and maybe tease you more but he was quickly pulled away by other Gryffindors and the Slytherin girls that crowded around you were the same ones that had snapped at him the night you had summoned him. 

Still, he couldn’t help but keep glancing over at you. as the party went on you did seem to be enjoying yourself. “Sirius?” He turned and saw Petter who looked rather green in the face, “I think I Drank to-” a gag gut him off mid-thought. Sirius’s eyes widened in fear as he realized what was about to happen. Before Peter could ruin Sirius’s shirt, and night, a bucket materialized in front of his face. Perter grabbed the bucket gratefully and puked his guts out. Sirius patted his friend on the back and breathed a sigh of relief. He looked up to see who had saved him and saw you, your wand drawn smiling smugly. you sheathed your wand and blew him a teasing kiss. 

a soft warm buzz washed over him as he absorbed that energy, which reminded him, He hadn’t gotten his kiss yet today. He crossed to you smirking. Besides you still had to tell James he did a good job at the quidditch match.

“Thanks for that love,” he laughed and to his surprise, you burst into a fit of uncritically girly giggles. 

“You looked so scared!” you shouted before giggling again. 

“how many of those have you had?” he asked nodding to the half-empty butterbeer bottle in your hand. 

“I don’t know like two? But you should try these- uh Firewhisky shots they are soooo yummy,” you said. that explained it, he smiled 

“Maybe you should take it, easy lightweight,” he laughed you moved to lean in but you were off balance and you ended up falling he caught you easily. “See what I mean?”

“I’m fine,” you muttered. 

“Clearly,” he said rolling his eyes. 

“are you done scolding me?” you asked 

“Actually I need a quick favor from (y/n),” he said in a saccharine tone of voice. “you remember what you promised me, Love?” He asked you, you looked confused for a second then you laughed. you cupped his cheeks and yanked him down and planted a kiss on him. He could still taste the whiskey on your lips. a rush of energy flooded him, making his skin feel white-hot. He was quick to pull away, kissing you when you were piss drunk didn’t sit well with him. 

“Not what I meant Sugar,” he said, “Remember what we said about you complementing the Quidditch team?” he asked. you thought about it. 

“Do it have to?” you whined. 

“yes, let’s go, love,” He said leading you over to where James was, Jane watching closely.  “go on Love tell him about the game.” he prompted.  

“Hello Potter I think you are an absolute git but you did great at the quidditch game, go choke on a shoe,” you said James blinked at you not quite sure how to respond. 

“Thanks, you too,” James said finally, a little drunk himself. you laughed and opened your mouth but Sirius pulled you away before you could stay anything else. 

“Aren’t you tired love?” He asked you scowled. 

“No I don't want to go to sleep,” you said flatly, not in the same giggly tone he had gotten used to, but this party wasn’t any place to talk.

“let me walk you back to your dorm love,” he purred  you shook your head 

“Okay but we gotta tell Janey where we’re going She’ll freak otherwise,” you mumbled. Sirius couldn’t help but smirk 

“let's go talk to Janey then,”

“No way,” Jane snapped glaring at Sirius if looks could kill he’d be six foot under. “I don’t trust some fucking Gryfindor anywhere near you,” she hissed trying to keep Sirius from hearing

“I’ll take it from here!” she snapped trying to pull you from his arms, but Sirius was stubborn and he still hadn’t figured out what was up with you. the magic buzzed in his face

“Come one Sugar you can trust me,”  he purred, she flushed instantly as she fell for it. She caved. 

“If you hurt her you’re dead.” Jane threatened before turning her back. Sirius pulled you out of the common room and into the hallway, the only sound that could be heard was the soft snoring of the paintings. 

“you want to tell me what's, wrong with going to sleep Love?” he asked calmly, you grimaced.

“don’t laugh,”

“I won’t, I promise,” 

“I've been having nightmares,” you admitted shyly, it seemed like alcohol made you honest as well as giggly. 

“they are horrible Sirius, I can’t-” tears welled in your eyes, his body tensed, he was never the best with crying. 

“I can help if you want.” he blurted suddenly, at least it got you to stop tearing up. 

“what?”

“you really didn’t do any research about incubus before summing one huh?” he laughed and you scowled

“sorry right, but basically, If I can take away nightmares, if I was a full demon they would become pleasant dreams but, I can make it so you sleep peacefully if you want?” his voice tilted up turning it into a question. 

“you can do that?” you asked your eyes widening. 

“they don’t call us ‘dream demons’ for nothing Love,” he said. 

“do it,” you commanded. 

“you’ll have to let me into your thoughts it-”

“do it I don’t care,” he nodded and pulled you into an empty classroom, the halls were no place to do something like this. He cupped your cheeks and lowered his head until your foreheads were pressing together. 

“relax Love, let me into your mind,” he muttered, lacing his words with the subtle magic only he possessed. you went lax in his hands, and he suddenly, he was out of his own head and in yours,

he tried not to read your thoughts, he really didn’t want to know what you really thought about him. it was simple enough to put up a barrier to block out any dark dreams, he had enough practice from helping Remus and his younger brother. 

once he was sure it would stick he pulled back and you reanimated in his arms. 

“that's it?”

“that’s it, love,”   Sirius felt drained, all the energy from the earlier kiss gone, maybe he could persuade you into two kisses tomorrow, or at least a longer kiss. you walked back to the Slytherin entrance without speaking to each other, both of you lost in your own thoughts he was about to turn away and leave you at the door when you spoke 

“thank you,”

“ah it was no problem love, I have to take care of my best girl don’t I?” he said flirting on instinct. 

“no I mean it thank you, Sirius,”

“you’re welcome (y/n),”

Tag list:

@booksaremymate  @buckyos    @drama-llama-04@wonderholicc   @peasantview   @blackpinkdolan   @can-i-just-like-it @monster-alien-chode   @evilunicorns4minions @shittyoudidntneedtoknow @way-ward-whale @evyiione @mey-rapp @bittersweetsuffering @hopelesslylosttheway @accio-rogers @writing-stars @moshi-mocha @siriuslysirius1107

Remember if you want to be added just ask and I’ll add you!

[dotthings]

Okay SPN 15.04, here we go, where I feel weirdly self-conscious about posting a meta post about an ep that had so much meta on itself and now I’m going to write meta about it, so it’s meta on meta on meta, while I’m having my feelings.

THAT COLD OPEN HOLY CRAP DIRECTOR JENSEN. As a director Jensen always pulls out warm performances from actors and he’s a really kinetic director too. That opening fight sequence I held my breath for a lot of it. 

BENNY OH NOES IT’S BENNY (this must be the character Jensen said was one of his favorites and the actor came back to set for one day to do it). “I’ll see you on the other side, brother.” Thanks so MUCH, spn, I thought I was over this and then you come in and reopen that and now I’ve got feelings gdi. Benny was a good friend to Dean. My heart hurts. 

Ohshitohshitohshitohshit demon blood Sam. Noooooo. And he kills Dean. I can never erase these images from my mind, thanks a LOT spn. 

Just a nightmare of Sam’s except no probably not given Sam’s god-wound, so wow this maybe happens on one of Chuck’s other worlds, that’s fine, oh that’s okay I’m fiiiiine, it’s fine. *covers face*

So we have a flip on early S14 here where Dean was turtling to cope with his trauma which is a healthy thing to do but hiding from the world wasn’t going to fix anything so Sam coaxes him out with a hunt. Dean coaxes Sam out with a hunt only I don’t think hunting works for Sam the same way, it’s not Sam’s mental comfort food the way it is for Dean, but still I appreciate the mirroring there.

Sam’s struggling with Rowena’s death and I think those horrific AU nightmare visions aren’t helping much either, but it’s clear he’s feeling the loss. Her loss, all the recent losses.

Dean trolls Sam with real bacon, which seems like Dean is maybe trying to cheer Sam up by pranking him and trying to cheer himself up via food pranks. Dean has quite the case of the munchies in this ep. 

I noticed almost every scene Dean is snacking or drinking from his flask. How’s that whole “Cas walked out and left apparently for good” working out for you Dean, wow, you’re suspiciously chipper while stuffing your face and drinking and Not Talking About It. Did Sam and Dean talk about where’s Cas? Who knows, the ep didn’t mention it, hey SPN you needed a Cas mention, OH WAIT THE EP IS GOING TO CALL ME OUT FOR SAYING THAT.

Seriously though, this is very Dean MO, and I have thoughts about his mood in this ep and how Cas’s absence was felt, and what it means, I’ll get to that later, but even before the last scene Impala talk, I was thinking Cas is a reminder of pain--and no it’s not all about Dean’s anger at Cas, it’s not because Dean is angry at Cas. Cas is a reminder of some things Dean just isn’t coping with very well and part of the problem is Dean cares so much. 

So Dean’s snacking and drinking and Sam is feeling the weight of them knowing all the scary things out there while people go on obliviously with their lives and I’m not sure if Sam is envying them or Sam is feeling some existential angst about the state of the world, how people can go about their lives unaware there are real monsters ready to pounce and tear their lives to shreds. And feeling the weight of the job they do in every bone of his body. Sam’s in a dark headspace.

Ok I admit I was not thrilled to see Becky again given her previous episodes and role. SPN’s later in-canon fan characters were much more nuanced and successful and respectful depictions of fans. But as with many other things, this era of SPN is revisiting some things to move them forward in a different way than before, and subvert some things that needed subverting and Becky has had--wait for it--character development. How about that.

Yes, Becky, run, you do not want anything to do with Chuck. Run, Becky run. I’m rooting for her now. RUNNNN.

Along with finding a more constructive way of channeling her interest in the Winchesters’ lives, and having a satisfying fandom creative life and a full life of her own, Becky has funko pops of Sam, Dean, and Cas. LOL. I see you spn. 

Dean, still with the case of the munchies. So this is like the eating a whole pint of ice-cream after a break-up, only Dean does it with junk food while hunting vampires.

I enjoyed this conversation between Becky and Chuck about writing immensely. Becky is actually right. Speaking myself as someone who’s suffered from writers block for a while, it’s miserable, and not writing just perpetuates the cycle. You feel cut off from an important part of yourself. And--oh here we go getting meta within meta--I find writing meta on SPN a positive outlet. 

“Writing is writing.” Damn Becky’s takedown of Chuck’s derisiveness about fanfic was sizzling and oh excuse me Chuck, what is it you think you were doing with those Supernatural books about your favorite story. Even though he’s the creator, I know. But still. Also seems to be a sly comment on how male-authored “fanfic” based on someone else’s characters or historical characters gets to be professionally published novels and nobody wants to admit it’s fanfic but it is, but women write fanfic and women write novels based on someone else’s characters or historical figures and it gets derided. 

Did not expect commentary celebrating the creativity and validity of fanwork of women in particular an episode of SPN, especially not with Becky of all people, but here we are. 

Uhhhh is Chuck writing this episode, as it happens? I am seriously uneasy now. What is going on. What is real. Which is what I think Dean is going through because of Chuck and OUCH the Winchesters think they’re free but they’re not but also they are their own people and Chuck isn’t controlling them but it’s like he’s still making the framework?? Or would this case just be happening on his own and Perez is just messing with our heads in this script right now.

Oh damn because this ep wasn’t sadness enough now here we go with the Jack parallels. “I can’t control this.” “I’m a monster.” “I killed someone I love.” Parents doing anything to save their out of control teenage kid or does he need to be killed, so the parents are Cas, while Sam and Dean are Dean. 

Interesting that Dean lowered the gun and didn’t kill Jack, but tells Sam they would do that for Jack if it was necessary. You didn’t, though, Dean. You couldn’t go through with it any more than those distressed parents of the vampire teen.

Becky is voicing various non-dire fan complaints here, every lane of the fandom is being gently called out right now. Hahaha including lack of Cas mentions in an ep that pointedly is not!Mentioning Cas because it’s not a mistake there’s actually reasons for that which is just lampshading how much Dean is pointedly Not Going to Talk About Cas. 

“Where they sit around doing laundry and talk” -- again every lane of the fandom should feel very called out right now. Seriously, fandom lanes that hate each other’s guts all have that common factor of craving more domesticity, and would like to see the laundry ep of SPN and for many, it has better include Cas, or we’re working through our need for this via fanfics or fanart. Even Jared and Jensen have expressed interest in a “Winchesters do the laundry” kind of episode. 

But here’s the thing--here’s the thing about SPN...it depicts domesticity. In small bits of pieces. Even in this ep there’s domesticity. SO HA. It’s not that SPN is against depictions of domesticity, it’s definitely in the toolset of its storytelling, to give the characters more layers, to make their lives seem more real, but there needs to be mostly an action plot because that’s the genre so they mostly kill monsters and we only get nibbles of domesticity.

Becky and Chuck arguing about Chuck’s incredibly dark story ending, after Becky criticized him for the story not having enough bite, was so interesting. While the episode’s dark story ending was actually quite well done IMO and not overdone and yes it’s bleak but it’s supposed to be. So it’s not that sad is always terrible writing, no. It isn’t. But its overuse has been a raging hot topic in spn fandom for years and SPN is a hopeful narrative as well as a bleak one. Overuse of loss of hope and misery can hurt the story, causes a number of fans to become desensitized and lose their emotional engagement for it (which has happened to be at a couple of points in SPN’s long run). So that conversation interested me a great deal, yes it did.

So.....SPN had its current biggest of the biggest of ultimate big bads, the ultimate power God himself, the author, and made him the enthusiast for overuse of the misery pr0n like that’s the only smart way to tell a story. The season’s big bad villain is a misery porn enthusiast.

I’m just gonna....sit here and absorb that for a moment.

Oh and this while all the PR for the show keeps warning us about how sad this story is and how bleak the ending will be, not a happy ending show. Are they warning us? Are they trolling us and misdirecting? Because they made their villain a misery pr0n fanboy and this intelligent, self-aware positive depiction of Becky the fan taking him to task for it. 

I feel like could be headed for every story needs its darkness and its light, you need the darkness to appreciate the light, and you need some light or the story is less meaningful. We’ll see.

“I’m a writer,” says Chuck and then takes away everyone Becky loves and then unmakes Becky. This is a purposeful depiction of a writer creator as a sadist. It’s a diabolical reversal on the Stephen King’s Misery scenario. Becky played the deranged fangirl in the past, who kidnaps an object of obsession, now she’s the victim of the deranged sadistic writer who breaks into her home, destroys her life, and then effectively kills her because of his own obsession with making Sam and Dean wretchedly miserable because he thinks that’s the only way to make the story exciting.

*blinks*

In the last scene, oh thanks Sam, for vocalizing the Jack connection. 

Hey Dean, that’s really a nice speech and yes Sam did give you a great pep talk but Sam wasn’t the only one who told you what you did still has meaning. This is like 15.01 where Dean is pointedly erasing Cas again despite Cas very obviously having done something Dean refuses to acknowledge. In 15.01 it was Dean leaving Cas out of his us vs the forces of evil speech to Sam, despite Cas having spent most of the ep shooting ghosts in the face and saving Sam’s life twice. Sam and Cas both have given Dean pep talks about the meaning of what they do but only Sam pulled Dean out of it...uhhh yeah that’s not writer error or canon ignoring Cas. That’s Dean trying to push Cas out of his mind. Something there hurts so much Dean isn’t dealing with it right now.

As I said, as I’ve been saying, it’s not so much that Dean is that angry at Cas. It’s not just about Mary. Or about Cas keeping things from him. Although those are all valid reasons for Dean’s hurt and anger. Dean seems to be afraid or hurt over more than that. And his love for Cas, IMO, is part of why this is weighing so heavily. What does he fear. I think it’s connected to the whole existential crisis about Chuck. What if none of this is real. I’ve talked about that in other posts, if none of this is real, if Dean still doubts, then what if what’s between him and Cas isn’t real, what if Cas doesn’t really care about him because none of it real. 

Dean valiantly puts a brave face on things here, they keep going, they keep fighting for the sake of those they lost, no matter what, “keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Which makes sense. That’s how you honor those you’ve lost. It’s just that I don’t think Dean has really reached that. He is Not Dealing with an awful lot of stuff here. And we have seen again and again how hard Dean reels from losing loved ones.  So what’s going on with Dean here. This is a healthy concept, but not if Dean is just whistling past the graveyard again. This might look like character development except look at what’s been going on with Dean. How deeply losing Mary, losing Jack affected him. The impact of those losses needs to be acknowledged and dealt with in order to truly move on and move forward. It’s like Dean is voicing a healthy outlook but isn’t actually experiencing it. I think Dean is posturing because if he lets all the hurt it right now, it will devour him.

There’s also the part where Sam and Dean have in the past displayed a lack of ability to just keep on keeping on if they lose each other, so they used to sell their souls, or violate the other one’s wishes and autonomy, or let the darkness free, but we’ve also seen them let each other go, and “keep putting one foot in front of the other.” Sam and Dean have done both ways with each other. Dean didn’t exactly just keep on keeping on no problem when Cas died at the end of S12.

Sam voices the other side of things, he can’t just move on right now. He’s feeling all the losses. They’ve piled up and piled up and it’s crushing him. Sam says he "can’t breathe” at times. He brings up Jessica, a loss he suffered 14 years ago. 

So Sam and Dean are airing the two aspects of loss and grief on SPN. One the one hand, you don’t just give up and quit because of loss. Honor who you’ve lost and keep on fighting. But losses are deeply felt, and it’s not all okay either. Sam and Dean don’t just shrug off these losses because they have each other. That’s not how this works. They need more than just each other and SPN is increasingly having more and more open dialogue about all of this.

S15 so far has been so much about the impact losing people they love has on Sam and Dean, and why their isolation isn’t a good thing. 

And there’s Chuck, the big bad, typing away to add more misery. Because Chuck gets off on giving them loved ones and taking them away, over and over and this isn’t presented as a good thing or a satisfying thing or a desirable thing or a celebration of anything. 

[slothgiirl]

Shadowplay part 9

When you land, the sun's still out and bright. Just the way you imagine California to be. There's a small building hope of beaches and ice cream right out of the airport. 

Of course, you hadn't accounted for customs. And another round of security checks. And then having to wait around for a checked bag. It's been nine hours and neither you or Alex are willing to make much in the way of conversation. Trading an exhausted smile as he nabs the suitcases off the baggage carousel. 

You are tired. Legs all cramped up. Water has never sounded better. That's definitely why you let Alex intertwine his fingers against yours, holding your hand as he gets hold of an uber. You don't even protest the cost of an uber. Just add that to the perks of agreeing to this whole charade. 

Stretching out in the car as you sit in traffic, you can't help but snipe, "can't believe I came all this way for this lovely view. So worth it."

Alex laughs, rubbing the bridge of his noes before his gaze settles on you. Has heat making its way up your cheeks. "Let's just set these bags down and grab a car love," he says, a plotting gleam in his eyes as he smiles at you, "Can't let your first night in LA go to waste."

"Alex," you instantly start, "I was only joking," though you doubt he isn't aware. Or that any protest of yours will stop him now that he's got a plan. "You could buy my love with a good coffee right now." You rub the sleep from your eyes.  

"Coffee and a view," he promises. 

"Do you even have a car in LA?" He didn't in London. But then the old city was a terrible place to drive in. The tiny roads. The sheer amount of people. The tub was the way to go. 

Nothing like the vast  Californian highway. 

He grins, "and a motorcycle."

"Of course you do." You shouldn't be so surprised. You can't get enough of the sea as you drive up into the hills. The ocean as blue as the trees are green. The streets are more empty and soon enough you pull up on the side of a hill. It's by far not the largest house you've driven by. 

They're all over the place. Some trying hard for the Versailles aesthetic, while others wouldn't look out of place on a minimalist instagram. 

No. Alex's house is very him. The exterior resembles an English country house. A proper one not the ones poshos call houses but are really mansions. There's the american touches that make it much too neat to be charming. Larger than his home in england but then again it is the states. 

Alex unlocks the door, dragging the suitcases in by himself despite your attempts to help. 

"Can I," you ask him, gesturing at the blinds. 

"Make yourself at home," Alex responds easily, already kicking his boots off.  

You open the blinds, letting the light in. You try and take things in. The kitchen isn't as sparse as the one in london. But then again, he'd lived here with Arielle. So probably her influence. But that's where it ends. 

The movie posters, ranging from Jean Luc Goddard to Raging Bull and landing on Tarantino, hanging on the walls are all him. Alex has selected enough movies to watch on your couch for you to know as much. you had never let him forget how boring you found Jean Luc Goddard and Stanley Kubrick. 

A vintage record player sits by the TV. The couch a deep navy suede, and as rectangular as modernism allowed. It was hard to picture Arielle having met her. 

He'd either gotten rid of any touches she'd left behind in the past eight months. Or there had never been any. It must be hard to have broken a relationship off and before the years was up, your ex is getting married. 

There isn't even a thing layer of dust though he hasn't been here in months which means he hires someone to clean his home. A detail you're not surprised Alex, as meticulous as he is, didn't overlook.

"What do you 'fink," Alex asks, watching you from the hallway having changed into a white dress shirt and a navy blue blazer that was less saville row and more Saint Laurent. Always such a clothes horse. Which would've bothered you if you hadn't been the same. After all, you'd changed into a chloe dress before you'd landed.

"I think nothing beats a classic double breasted blazer," you tease him, sinking down into the couch, letting your words hang in the air as Alex scoffs, affronted. "And I don't think I'm moving from this couch ever again." 

Laying down felt better than sex after a nine hour airplane ride.

"Not even for coffee," he asks, walking over to met you, looking down as you lay in his couch, amusement clear in his wide eyes. 

"You'll have to bring it. Sorry not sorry at all actually."

Alex laughs, placing his knee by your legs as he hovers over you. From there, it's easy to reach your arms up, curling yours hands over his shoulders as you scoot over. He takes it for the invitation that it is, laying down next to you. 

While the couch is wide, it's not that wide. There's not a part of your body that isn't brushing against Alex. And yeah, never getting up again. 

You close you eyes, falling asleep with ease. Alex being there with you was so normal. So right. You shirt, your hands loosely around his neck. You don't miss when he shifts close to you, deliberately  Just as confused about the thinning boundaries between you both.Where did the lie end and begin. 

Alex rests his cheek against your hair. And you relax into his chest. It's too easy. 

And you can't. 

You can't confuse yourself more than you already are. Is he just this comfortable in your friendship? Or is it more? 

With a great reluctance, you sit up, pulling away from him. Your heart deflating as you do. "So about that coffee," you wiggle your brows. 

Alex smiles softly, looking up at you from hooded eyes, all the pomade in his hair keeping it intact through an airplane flight and laying down and all the times he goes to run his hand through it. "You only ever want me for me coffee."

You try and fail to keep a straight face as you utter, "I'm like a sugar baby but with coffee. A coffee baby." Alex drives a Pontiac down the LA streets. It fits the aesthetic he's carefully cultivated. Not that you stop from teasing him as all the modern cars lap him. "Oi," he complains, "leave me car alone and drink your coffee!"

"Never," you laugh, watching the city go by. You had no clue where you were headed, but were enjoying the ride. Drinking in the sunset as the city lights came on. Skyscrapers sit surrounded by highways. Dozens of cars flood the lanes, but no where near as slow as they had been earlier. 

You roll the window down. 

Alex skirts by the city, turning the volume up on an Zeppelin album. You would have guessed he'd head into the city. But the man was a hopeless. He loved nothing more than to do something lowkey and unexpected. It was often far more comfortable. From going with you to lunch in the park or finding a tiny out of the way pub out from the city center. 

"I love listening to lemon song while I work," you comment, cracking your knuckles. This was the longest you'd gone since high school without hand sewing. 

"No crooked stitches?"

"Never. I'm too pro for that son." I say using my best american accent. Which hello, you so were. Alexander McQueen himself got his start on Saville Row. Not just anyone worked there. 

Alex turns, looking over at you, with a laugh. Streetlights casting a halo over his features.  

"Eyes on the road Turner."

"I can do two things at once."

You roll your eyes. "Wear your sunglasses too while you're at it." 

"If you insist love," he grins, reaching for the pair tucked into the sun visor. You giggle, shaking your head. You sip at your cup of coffee, smiling as you do. This was all so easy. But- 

Taking a deep breathe you resolve to enjoy your time in Los Angeles together. To enjoy your trip up to Northern California without over thinking things. Especially right now that you two were alone. 

You'd already played the part with his other two friends. It had been easy once you got started. And it was Alex. 

You could-you are going to talk about this with him once you go back to London. Get your feelings out of the way and make sure Alex is on the same page. It's the tension you were getting tired of. 

Alex takes you out of your thoughts as he reaches over and takes your hand in his. 

You squeeze his hand right back, meeting his smile with one of your own. The drive up the side of a hill is dark. But it's worth it as you pull up to a building at the top. You recognize it vaguely from movies. Slate white with a manicured lawn and a view of the city. It's quiet this late. But not completely abandoned, and yeah that makes sense. Observatories seem like a nigh time activity.

You'd expect nothing less of Alex. 

"Well you delivered," you grin,jumping out the car as soon as it's parked and stretching your arms above you before tossing the empty coffee cup into the nearest trash. The building draws the eye. Who knows how much cleaned has to be done to keep it pristine. 

"Did you doubt me love," Alex asks, following behind you as you walk towards the overlook, excitement running through your veins. Or maybe it was just the coffee kicking in. 

You shrug, faking nonchalance before Alex catches up besides you on the path. His hair looks especially shinny in the light like an oil spill in water. You tell him as much. "-I do appreciate the commitment though," you admit. Even at night, the California air, though cool, was pleasant even clothed in a summer dress. 

"Leave me hair alone," Alex utters, looking at the ground bashfully. His back rested against the stone wall separating your from the cliffside. The city was breath taking. All the glittering lights like stars. And things were always prettier from far away as Monet had proven. 

"You're right," you smirk, as you take in the enormity of the city, "it's too easy. Got to challenge myself." Lights filled your eyes and it was your first night in London all over again. Nothing charmed the more wistful part of your heart than a new city. 

The highways filled with cars as usual. The hollywood sign looking as tiny as your pinky. The promise of tomorrow filling the night. 

You lean forward, hands gripping the stone tightly as you sigh contentedly. All the tension ran out of your limbs. This had been the right choice despite the mess Sam was convinced you were getting yourself into. Not that she'd tell you not to: too invested in the drama of it all.  

You glance over at Alex, about to make a witty remark about his deep romantic streak. The soul of a cheesy lover who would prefer About Time and 27 dresses above Kubrick if he just let himself. If he stopped trying so hard to be the artist the magazines claimed him to be. 

But he isn't looking at the city. 

Alex is drinking in the sight of you. Eyes brimming with emotion: the very same thoughts he could never translate into words, that had him turn to writing in order to make sense of himself. 

Your breath hitches and suddenly Los Angeles seems incredibly distant and unimportant as you turn with your entire being towards him. The fluttering in your pulse absent as you meet his dreamy gaze head on. There's a assured core of emotions in your heart that keeps your heart beating evenly. 

Its with resonant understanding that you look at this man who was all the more attractive for you knowing him. 

Knowing that he took his shoes off inside without prompt. Who always argued over who'd pay the check out of his own sense of companionship and not a misguided attempt at gender norms. Who folded the blankets back up in the morning as you rushed to work in the morning. 

It filled you up inside. 

Alex takes a deep breathe in, taking a step into you. Your breath mingling with his. 

His hand reaching up to cup your cheek. Grip solidifying as you acquiesce, relaxing into his hold. 

No matter what happens later on. You want him in your life. As a friend. As a lover. You cannot imagine losing this connection. A rarity you'd come to realize in adulthood. A resonance you'd developed with Sam since childhood. That you lacked with so many of your adulthood friends. 

Alex. 

Alex fucking Turner. 

He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

Letting out a sigh. 

[youngerdaniel]

Youngo’s 2019 at the Movies (with Baby Yoda)

IT’S THAT TIME AGAIN, FOLKS...

Wherein this blog crawls out of the woodwork with fresh aspirations for a more consistent content strategy in the year to come. Like a Baby Yoda emerging from his floating iron egg to great the sun. So let’s dust off some cobwebs and talk about the great movies that came out in 2019.

BRIEF UPDATES FROM THE WAFFLER This year marked a turning point. No, not that fucking decade that everybody’s making a big deal about. Not even that I hit 30 but thankfully have most of my (still not totally gray) hair... Nope, I went into business for myself. I leapt off the stable lily pad of 9-5 etc. and went freelance! Life’s been full of stories since then -- both the kind I write, and the kind I get to look under the hood on. I’m happy to report I’ve written more than ever before... Just not blogs, and mostly stuff I’m not at liberty to discuss.

*Clears throat. Pulls up the collar on his trench coat.* And I may have had more hair turn gray. Turns out, running your own ship is quite a bit of work, especially when you’re teaching yourself how the hell you do it. Nevertheless, I loved the shit out of every minute of it, and I still use phrases like nevertheless. It could easily be a blog (or several) for a different time, but the short and easy explanation of the absence is I was busy, it was fun, get over it. 

Besides, we don’t actually care about whatever lame excuse I have for why I haven’t been posting. We’re here because it’s 2020 and time for a listicle, dammit! This one is neither definitive nor ranked. But dang if 2019′s fodder didn’t come sauntering into theaters like the big chuckling cherub of Christmas Present, with a cornucopia of awesomeness. 

THINGS I LOVED, IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER:

UNDER THE SILVER LAKE David Robert Mitchell’s neo noir takes a fittingly existential approach to detective fiction. An enigmatic case, hidden clues and coded pop culture, Andrew Garfield’s charmingly hapless sleuth... There’s a lot to love in this weird soup of a movie. At times nightmarish, often trippy, and an excellent performance from a parrot. Late night fodder.

CLIMAX Gaspar Noe does not make sane movies. With Climax, there’s a hypnotic quality that sucks you in and drags you along on its nightmarish journey as a group of dancers drink from a punchbowl laced with drugs. The result is absolute bedlam, and everything from the lighting to the camerawork pulls its weight to put you into the action. This is the kind of thing you watch and marvel that, “Wow, they went there.” to varying degrees of satisfaction. Like a freight train barreling toward the side of a mountain, it’s hard to look away even though you know you probably should. 

JOJO RABBIT And then there’s a different kind of madness. The movie that billed itself as “The movie that shouldn’t work.” Jojo Rabbit is so full of heart. This is Taika Waititi in full force, and hilarity meets real pathos. Love is better than Nazis. It’s a simple message, and I think it doesn’t need to be much more. The relevance of such a narrative in our time is pretty disappointing, but the truth seems to be that we need ones like this to come along and remind the collective. The mashup of humor with genuine drama is balanced in a way that will feel familiar to fans of THE HUNT FOR THE WILDERPEOPLE or BOY. The performances are superb, and it’s a beautiful looking film. If you missed it last year, start the new one off right and amend this problem.

US The thing I dug the most about US was how unique it felt. Original premises in horror are on the rise, and there’s no denying the man leading the wave is Jordan Peele. The social commentary elements of this followup to GET OUT play with a little more subtlety, and in some ways it almost felt like a stronger move... But I refuse to compare the two of them. US stands out in its own right, and carries some of the most memorable performances of the year. A twisting narrative that crackles with tension, and a concept that haunts the imagination. What if your every action had an equal an opposite effect on a mirrored version of yourself? A study on the impact of the class system, and a nightmarish what-if to explain the real life series of underground tunnels that span the United States. Also, that costume design! That Alexa gag! The way this one opens up at the midpoint was such a delight in the theater. I’d apologize for spoilers, but let’s be real... You’ve seen this movie.

AD ASTRA Best summed up as “Daddy Issues in Space,” AD ASTRA feels like the kind of sci-fi mysteries that were made in the late 70s and 80s. A spellbinding journey to the far edges of the galaxy to save the world, and maybe prove that aliens exist. Oh, and to stop your possibly insane father from destroying the human race on the way. Brad Pitt is on fire, and everything about this potent emotional journey remains focused on his character’s dilemma of deciding whether or not his father was a good man, what it means to him and his own isolated existence, and whether he can overcome that shit and live a life instead of taking risks. From its opening scene to its closing one, this one blends gripping life-or-death set-pieces exploring the dangers of space travel and the cyclical nature of humanity’s progress with small moments. The journey, the heart-wrenching climax, and the harrowing trip home is well worth the rental fee. Check it out.

THE GIRL ON THE THIRD FLOOR

Some horror movies exist to make you think, some exist to cover their protagonists in black goo, subject them to grueling physical and psychological lament, and chuck ‘em through a woodchipper for good measure. The Girl on the Third Floor takes your average premise of “Stubborn and troubled guy picks a fixer-upper house to flip, only to discover horrors beyond his imagining” and leans hard into the gross-outs and festering boils of body horror. Reminiscent of Evil Dead, Amityville, and Dead Alive, there’s so much insanity to love, and the movie makes some big turns -- some surprising, some daring, some a little out there. It is by no means perfect, but it’s got a charm about its rough edges. You will never look at a marble the same way again.

I LOST MY BODY

I know. “A life-affirming work” left me a little skeptical too. But from its very first frame, I LOST MY BODY is arresting. Its hypnotic narrative follows the story of a severed hand in search of its owner, and has great fun carrying you along with its troubled protagonist’s journey from a crush to obsession. The sheer amount of visual storytelling and striking imagery is worth the runtime, but for any arthouse lovers feeling a little too chilled to hop down to the nearest indie theatre can open a new tab and have at it. Didn’t expect to be as moved by this one as I was, and for that I must recommend it.

AVENGERS: ENDGAME The fact that a movie like this can even exist is pretty amazing, and I have to say, as the culmination to the Avengers saga as we know it, ENDGAME delivered something with way more heart and character than I expected. Funny, sad, bittersweet, and massively satisfying. This is the Thanksgiving Turkey dinner of movies. It’s got everything. But the best part for me was how little fighting the big superhero finale of the decade had to it. Firmly rooted in character, taking ambitious and surprising turns in their trajectories, and balancing the fanwanks with a genuinely exciting story. I mean, c’mon. Time heist? A Greatest Hits play that also recontextualizes a few of the lesser films of the sweeping franchise? The third act battle felt a little tacked-on, but the conclusion felt like exactly what we needed. 

READY OR NOT I love this movie. Love it like an adorable, scrappy friend who always manages to make their social commentary entertaining. Hide and Seek turns deadly for a bride to be when she meets her future in-laws, the proprietors of a board game company that takes their product very seriously. A darkly funny survive-the-gauntlet-till-morning ride. Great characters. Awesome kills. A few really unexpected and delightfully devilish turns. Oh, and it takes a stab at privilege and how far some people are willing to go to preserve theirs. It’s got teeth, a mean bite, and it’s fun to walk around the neighborhood. If you liked YOU’RE NEXT, you will probably love this movie. I still can’t get its final few moments out of my head. And I mean that in the best way.

PARASITE Speaking of social criticism and privilege, there’s no denying the brute fucking force of PARASITE. Following a struggling family who imbed themselves into a rich family by posing as the help, this madcap game of suspense takes so many surprising turns that even describing the full plot spoils the fun. Go into this one having read as little as possible. It will take you for a spin. Part con movie, part social critique, part comedy and part tragedy, it’s a lot to digest, but it’s a damned tasty treat. 

KNIVES OUT In a word, it’s fun. Rian Johnson’s locked room murder mystery packs some wonderful barbs in the side of affluence, armchair activism, and the corruptive nature of wealth. A wealthy novelist is found dead, and all of his family members have motive... But don’t let the familiar set-up fool you, KNIVES OUT plays fair with its audience, but it is a fast runner. The story jumps ahead of you almost every time you think you’ve got it figured out. Daniel Craig’s genius sleuth is full of likable energy, protagonist Marta is full of layers, and the family are all such a pleasure to watch. Several times along the trip, I had no idea where the story would turn next, or how much further the envelope could be pushed, but by the end, I came out marveling at its construction. The production design is unreal. The direction and vibe are so unique, and by the closing image, it’s nearly impossible not to enjoy the shift in values. There’s also a speech involving donuts that I will be reciting at parties for the foreseeable future.

DANIEL ISN’T REAL

I closed off the year with this wildly inventive take on the possession trope. This. Movie. Is. Nuts. Which, considering it was produced by the same folks who did MANDY, shouldn’t come as a surprise. A mind-bending tale that riffs on Jekyll and Hyde, with a great modernization tackling the concept from a mental health perspective... It’s not the first time it’s been done, but the execution is just excellent. We follow a disturbed young man whose imaginary friend hatched from a childhood trauma makes a devilish return to play hell with his adult life. It’s a psychological horror that’s FIGHT CLUB meets THE DOUBLE. Great look. Excellent creature design and visuals for a cosmic horror that makes great use of low budget devices. If you’re looking for the answer to the age old question of “Should my third act involve my protagonist battling his inner demons literally with a rooftop sword fight?” You’ve found your contender.

I’ll tell you this, reader friend. The hardest part about 2019′s slate at the box office was deciding what to see. There were so many interesting movies that came out, brimming with big ideas and social commentary. Sad as the state of the world is, there’s no denying times of unrest have a knack for yielding great art. The Trump era has made its stamp on Hollywood for better or for worse. But the rising tide of voices pushing back give me a bit of hope, and a lot of salve for the whole existential dread thing. I think that, however small it is, is good.

For what it’s worth, none of these films are reinventing the wheel or burning flags... But they are asking questions. Okay, CLIMAX, really isn’t asking anything, but it is fun as hell. There’s just as much merit in the salve as there is in the flame that caused the burn.  So may your 2020 be full of entertainment. I’ll try to get some useful content up here at least every couple of months in smaller digestible forms. Now go forth and brunch, you hungover, resolution-breaking slob.

[eisforeidolon]

Episode: Back and to the Future

I get why, thematically, they chose that song for the previouslies that kick off the final season. However, from my perspective I just do not think it actually works at all.  It is far too sedate for the action it’s recapping and the scene it cuts into.  The juxtaposition of such different paces is just ... odd.

I guess I'm supposed to feel all sad and shit from the lingering shots of dead!Jack's burned out eye holes?  Maybe if he'd had a personality other than being an amorphous shifting blob of unbelievable power and permanent intellectual infancy I was supposed to care about because of the number of times they had the other characters say he was their son/family/awesome.  As is?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I wish I could say I was surprised that the veritable army of animate corpses making a beeline for the Winchesters and Cas just … somehow … let them escape and run away.  I'd have been a lot more surprised if the writers had actually bothered to do the work to get the characters out of the corner the last finale put them into, at this point.  Then there's the bit where the writers shove some nonsense into Dean's mouth to try and make it seem like this whole thing with Chuck isn't a sudden random asspull to go for the most absurdly overpowered villain they could think of for the last season.  Totally believable, oh yeah.

Although the idea of a sewer running through a graveyard including right to the wall of a crypt does not exactly seem likely to me, I do actually give the writers points for having that not actually work as an escape route.  Also awarding some points for them remembering that as an angel, Castiel should be able to see demons.

As other people have already pointed out, considering what he did to the Novak family and how haphazardly he handled Claire, especially?  Him bitching about any other creature defiling somebody's corpse is pretty fucking hilarious.  Though I'd possibly be more sympathetic if demon!Jack didn't already show a 500% more interesting personality in thirty seconds than actual!Jack did in two seasons.  So far as I’ve been concerned, the only think Jack has really had going for him is Alex, so Alex as a different character, even a demon, I’m calling a win.

I honestly do not get the decision of trying garner fan nostalgia by bringing back ghosts from previous seasons if they're just going to arbitrarily make them kill anyone at random for kicks.  Would it have been that hard to have shown “Bloody Mary” killing one person who might have had a secret where someone died?  Because I could buy it for one of those teen girls, but not both.  Or limiting the “Woman in White” to attacking men along highways who might possibly be unfaithful?  Maybe we're supposed to believe that they're all just so pissed off at having spent all that time in hell that they have completely lost touch with what originally tied them to earth and drove them to kill in the first place?  I don't mind them no longer being tied to a physical location since they were banished and unnaturally returned, but to be so disconnected to what drove them to become angry spirits seems much more intrinsic to who and what they were.  I guess even the ghosts lose their personalities to become cardboard in the hands of Dabbernatural.  

Oh, look, mysteriously, big G God's tantrum opening up hell is not actually big enough to impact the whole planet – or even, you know, more than the literal next town over.  This is my surprised face.

Then we get to the bit where the Winchesters find an abandoned car with a bloody mess inside and are all, “Look at this Woman in White kill!  Obviously it was a Woman in White!  Totally the specific one we sent to hell!  Because … car!  And, uh, blood!  And, oh, because the fucking script says so.” REASONS, YO.

Aren't all garage doors required to have an emergency pull for if the power goes out?  Obviously the script required the pair of VotW end up stuck hiding in the garage, which, uh, a ghost can't find people hiding now?  Did I miss something in there that explained that silly convenience that makes the ghost even less spooky in an episode that really really fails on that count even more later on?

I guess maybe I should be happy that it's Castiel that gets hit with the dumb characterization stick to necessitate Sam & Dean not work together to clear out the town? Look, at this point, considering the way the writers have had him act as a constant disaster zone of idiotic choices and betrayals for several seasons now, my ability to sympathize with Cas is a wee bit limited.  To have him now sulk like a toddler and refuse to work with the demon to help the Winchesters save an entire town full of people and prevent the spread of angry hell ghosts to the world beyond that? Because oh noes it's wearing Jack's face and he was just sooooo attached?  Even though all of them supposedly thought of Jack as their kid?  He doesn't even try to offer up alternatives to working with the demon with the very convenient solution, just whines about it? 

So basically this billions of years old angel somehow has less fucking practicality than the Winchesters (despite how easily he killed the shit out of his fellow angels when it suited his plans).  Not to mention that by refusing, he's saddling Dean with having to work with demon!Jack. The human guy who was just recently convinced he had to kill Jack for the good of the world after Jack killed his mother, only to have a change of heart when he saw Jack’s understanding, only for Jack to end up killed anyway – you know, emotions a hell of a lot more conflicted about their supposed kid's than Castiel's?  Castiel is just fine with that!  What a self-centered dick.

I liked Dean's conversation with Rowena on the phone and his response to her presumable demand to ask more nicely.  I laughed at Sam accidentally shooting Cas and Cas' resultant reaction.  I thought it was curious that they had the demon bring up Dean's time as a torturer in hell, though I'd be pleasantly surprised if it was anything but a way to segue into the Cage getting opened.  One utterly wasted Michael storyline is apparently not enough for Dabb!  Maybe it's just supposed to be some kind of weird demon idea of flattery, but I did find their interactions interesting.  I would be intrigued by the weird flashes when Cas was trying to heal Sam (Another angel power that actually works for once?  Wow!) … if Dabb hadn't already yammered on about what it means in an interview.  That dude is absolutely allergic to leaving any kind of major storyline an open mystery or letting it retain any intrigue for fans to speculate about.  I was not impressed with Sam getting damsel-ed to be saved by Castiel at least twice.  Come on, show.

As I speculated before and said above, I’m fine with the Chuckified nature of their release meaning some rules don’t apply.  I could maybe even understand the thought process that them being out in the daytime, without being limited to darkness, was scarier? I just wish anyone behind the camera was awake enough to actually look at the aesthetics of what they did here and realize that no, it's really really not.  The whole thing just looked so embarrassingly mediocre - pantomime actors in bad bargain basement costumes silly.  I think it was @hippychick006 that suggested gifs of the whole end portion looked like they should be set to Yackety Sax?  The context of the episode does not in any way negate that. Just … wow.  Like with the wire fight, I am flabbergasted that this made it to air without somebody finding the brakes.

I'm not sure if the writers actually made a failed reference by having the Woman in White say Dean was the one who took her home when it was Sam, or if they meant to imply he and Sam together had been there/responsible and Dean was the one she was addressing.  Regardless, I'm not impressed with how all the ghosts Sam & Cas were being confronted by just … stood there to be shot one by one for a while.  And then … ran … literally ran … chasing them down the street instead of doing the whole ghost teleport thing.  There are way, way too many times in this episode where the guys get away or win a fight because reasons and there is absolutely no tension in that.  Even if it didn't also look ridiculous.  Dean’s part of the confrontation was a little less absurd in that respect, at least.  And the spell effects actually looked reasonably cool.

I'm a little annoyed at myself that the obligatory brother scene at the end of the episode kind of works on me.  Though I’m not particularly impressed with Sam's conclusion that God is totally going to leave them alone now.  Sure, Chuck has a long habit of leaving when he's bored, but he isn't leaving this world because he's bored.  You guys actively pissed him off!  Yet Sam treats it like a foregone conclusion Chuck will have buggered off instead of sticking around to watch his previously favorite but now uncooperative toys suffer and die first. Though I'm not sure if that's a writer issue, actually, or just a legit choice I don’t care for.  I could see Sam insisting on trying to sell a potential positive side with no room for doubt with as fatalistic as Dean is being.  I could also see it just being one of those things Sam convinces himself must be true because he's reasoned it out in his head and refuses to consider alternatives may exist.  Like how he was so convinced it could only be God planting visions in his head back in season 11.  Still, I like the callback and I can even see why Dean is the most immediately cynical and pissed off, so hey!  There was actually one whole entire scene I enjoyed in there!

[calmevetlgreen-blog]

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Used to love that game.   Completely logic based, but not so overwhelming like chess that you can't play it over a beer. Nice cinematography BTW.

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