#off job away from it all i think she’s more chill but like totally in a way that makes people think she’s a cryptid

[rosalinesurvived]

The “Your loved ones wouldn’t approve of this!” “Yes they do” Trope is fully Ryunnosuke and Gin. Listen to me, on her job Gin is just as unchill and murderous and angry and Victorian Hysteria as Ryunosuke, even more so in fact since he’s been hindered by his illness/Dazai induced emotional manipulation.

[emchant3d]

part 2 of runaway bride stevie! modern au, exes to lovers, transfem stevie harrington pt 1

Eddie Munson is not having a good day.

His phone died last night so his alarm didn’t go off, his bassist is sick so their gig tonight has to be canceled, and his last three Uber rides have stiffed him on a tip.

He accepts a request from some dude named Scott with a terrible comb-over in his profile picture and gives himself two seconds to bang his forehead into his steering wheel in frustration with a closed-mouth scream. Then he dials it back so he doesn’t seem absolutely fucking insane. He can see the suit he’s about to escort to some fucking meeting even though he’d rather be doing any-fucking-thing else, and he pastes a fake smile on to greet him. He’s gearing up to fall into the usual routine of this godforsaken job, but then it all goes a little sideways.

There’s movement from the corner of his eye, and then a blur of a body is slamming into poor Scott from behind, shoulder checking him and almost sending him careening onto the sidewalk. The dude pinwheels his arms like a cartoon character, suit jacket puffing up around his shoulders awkwardly, expression so baffled it makes Eddie snort despite himself.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, and he’s reaching for his seatbelt to see if the guy needs any help - he looks like he might break a hip if he hits the ground - but then a whirlwind of white fabric swoops into his backseat and a loud, desperate voice yells "DRIVE!" in his ear, and he sort of just thinks 'sure, why the fuck not,' and slams his foot on the gas.

The car fishtails a bit and the tires squeal as he swerves into traffic, horns honking after him, and he picks a direction at random, going way too fast for this area of town.

His heart is pounding in his chest, worst case scenarios running through his head. He’s going to get car jacked. He’s going to go to jail for being an unwitting getaway driver. But there isn’t any more yelling from the back seat, just heavy, panicked breathing, and he settles into traffic and slows down to a more normal speed before he cuts his eyes up to the rearview mirror.

Time stops.

It’s Stevie.

He can’t believe he didn’t recognize her the second he saw her, but in his defense, it's not like he was expecting to see his ex-girlfriend in a goddamn wedding dress running like she stole something today.

Pure panic wraps tight around his throat as he takes her in - is she hurt? In danger? Nothing good could have had her sprinting away from her own wedding, but it seems like she’s just shaken up.

His heart calms a bit once her tears dry and they get properly on the road.

And shit, it’s so unfair, because she's just as breathtaking as she was the day they split. She looks just as sad, too, which is certainly not how a woman like Stevie Harrington should look on her wedding day. But seeing her in a gown like that - Jesus Christ. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest. It’s like something out of a fantasy, seeing her in the exact kind of dress she used to whisper to him about wanting, the kind of dress he’d once promised to marry her in. Of course, they fell apart before he could even get a ring on her finger, but it still sends his stomach swooping to see the future they’d spoken about come to life.

“You’re sure you’re okay?” he can’t help but ask, glancing over his shoulder at her.

“Yeah,” she says, voice high and a little squeaky. “Yeah, I’m totally fine. Just in my ex-boyfriend's car after I left my fiance at the altar, it’s all fine, it’s chill.”

“Okay,” he says haltingly, delicately, because Stevie Harrington is not the kind of person who says it’s chill, “it’s just that, you know, all of that sounds decidedly not chill.”

“This is so chill. It’s the chillest I’ve ever been, actually - hold on–” she says, and next thing he knows a swirl of silk is blocking his view and he sputters a bit as the train of her dress smacks him in the face, but she’s clambering gracelessly from the back seat and over the console to plop down on the passenger side with a loud huff and a cloud of perfume.

It’s different from what she used to wear. She used to smell spicy and warm, with notes of amber and cinnamon. He’d kiss the little spots in her wrists where she’d spritz it on, trace the veins beneath the tan skin with his nose to keep the scent of her with him.

Now she smells like vanilla and something floral, airy and light. Like he stepped into a bakery. It’s not bad, of course it’s not bad, but it’s…different. Not her.

Or not his version of her, anyway.

This is someone else’s Stevie now, and she smells like fucking cookies instead of home.

Instead of commenting on it, he just tells her to put on her seat belt, and she looks at him like he’s an idiot.

“And wrinkle this dress?” she says, her nose curling a little, and God she’s such a bitch and he’s missed it so much.

“I hate to break it to you,” he tells her, “but some wrinkles are not the worst damage that thing has seen today.” There are small grey splotches on the bodice where her makeup dripped as she cried earlier, and the hemline has some muddy staining from her mad dash on the sidewalk. It’s not ruined, but it’ll have to be cleaned, and a couple of wrinkles will be the easiest thing to get out of the formerly pristine fabric.

He glances over at her in time to see her run her hands over the skirt of the dress, smoothing it out over her thighs. It shifts, the leg slit parting to show her skin, teasing at the hint of a crease where her thigh and stomach meet, and Eddie rips his gaze away to stare at the road instead.

“Probably for the best, anyway,” he says, and he feels her eyes latch onto his profile.

“And why’s that?” she asks, and he smirks.

“Well, pure white? C’mon, Stevie, we both know that’s a lie.” He flashes her a wicked grin and she makes an outraged sound, but a small smile is teasing at her mouth even as her cheeks flush.

She kicks off her heels - red bottoms, because of fucking course they are - and slouches in the seat. She pushes herself up, adjusting in the pile of silk and corsetry she’s been strapped into, and he sees the absolute mountain of a rock on her hand, and manages to bite his tongue about it being the gaudiest thing he’s ever seen.

"So who was the lucky guy?" Eddie asks before he can stop himself, and the glare Stevie gives him could cut glass. “Or lucky woman. Person? Far be it from me to deny you your bisexual rights.”

He probably sounds like a jealous asshole, but he can't help it. He's the getaway driver for his one that got away on her fucking wedding day, and he feels like he deserves to ask a few questions.

His hands tighten on the steering wheel as the silence lingers, but eventually, Stevie just groans, letting her head fall back against the headrest dramatically.

"Don't laugh," she demands, and Eddie shakes his head.

"Scout's honor," he promises, and he swears a wry little grin teases at her lips.

“You were never a scout. You would have been kicked out for inciting a riot.”

“Hey, I just ensured we all earned our arson badges, okay? I did every one of those kids a favor.” Stevie scoffs, and it almost sounds fond.

Then she says, “Tommy,” and he almost swerves into oncoming traffic.

"HAGAN?" he says, louder than he means to, and her hand flies up to grab the oh-shit bar.

“Eddie, Jesus!” she says, glaring at him, and he shakes his head, focusing back on the road.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, but fucking - really? “Really?” He can’t help himself. “Tommy Hagan?”

“Yes, really, Tommy Hagan,” she says hotly, like she’s defensive, like she didn’t just leave the schmuck at the fucking altar.

“Well that explains the ring, at least.” She reaches over, smacking at his arm, which, thanks to the aforementioned ring, is probably going to bruise. “Hey, ow!” He glares at her, taking a hand off the wheel to rub his bicep. “Watch it, that thing’s a weapon.”

“Then stop sassing me about it,” she snaps, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms and her face falls into that adorable bitchy little pout he’s always fucking loved, and he looks away again.

He can’t help but glance back over at her left hand. The ring is…certainly something. Giant, square, one big diamond surrounded by other, smaller diamonds, with even more diamonds on the band. It looks heavy and cumbersome and like she’s going to smack it into every wall and door and get it caught in her hair and seriously, he’s pretty sure he’s already got a knot forming on his arm where the thing hit him.

It looks like Tommy walked into the priciest jewelry store he could find and asked for the most expensive ring they had.

It looks like a status symbol.

It doesn’t look like her.

“Apologies, highness,” he says, shaking himself free of his thoughts. It’s not fair to hold her to those standards. He hasn’t spoken to her in years. He can’t know what kind of person she is now.

But there’s still a bone-deep knowing that overtakes him at the feeling of the woman next to him. A sense of deja vu so strong it threatens to knock him over.

A different car, a different time, a different circumstance, but the same person. The same love.

He’d picked a direction at random, but as the streets become more familiar, he realizes he’s heading towards his place. It’s as good as any, he figures, and he shifts lanes, reaching to tap on his phone and shutting down his Uber account.

“You know, I almost expected you’d still be driving that beat up old van,” Stevie says suddenly, and he crows a laugh.

“Ah, Van Halen, you served me well until you almost blew up on the highway,” he says fondly. “Lost her about a year ago. It was tragic. I held a funeral.” She laughs again, shaking her head.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less,” she says, turning that pretty smile his way, and his heart does a somersault.

“That was a very impressive move back there, by the way,” he tells her, “that shoulder check of that old defenseless businessman?” He whistles. “Haven’t seen anybody move that quick to steal an old man’s ride before, really, it should have been documented.”

“Oh my god, shut up,” she says, but there’s a laugh in her voice, and she brings up her hands to press to her pink cheeks. He can’t help but keep digging.

“No, seriously! And sprinting like that in heels? And in that dress? What’s that thing weigh, like twenty pounds?”

“It’s a dress, not a suit of armor,” she tells him, but her smile is growing, making her eyes crinkle.

“Just saying, it was pretty metal,” he shrugs, and she snorts.

“Well, you would know,” she says, and he ignores the way his face flushes in response. She gives a little sigh, wiping below her eye and frowning at the smear of black on her fingers.

“Here,” he says, reaching across her. His arm brushes her leg as he opens the glove box and he’s so fucking normal about it. He pulls out a few fast food napkins, holding them out to her. “No makeup wipes in here, but that’ll help with the worst of it.”

“Thanks,” she says, and she flips the visor down, tapping a napkin to her tongue to wet it before wiping at the mascara tracks running down her face. “God,” she groans, scrubbing at a particularly stubborn smear, “I look like a raccoon.”

“A very cute raccoon,” he says before he can stop himself. Jesus, Munson, dial it back. “Like the raccoon that’s about to get the best trash in the bin, she doesn’t even have to ask for it.” Stop talking. “The other raccoons are just gonna give it to her, on account of how cute she is.” He’s gonna throw himself into traffic.

“Did you just call me a raccoon on my wedding day,” she asks. Fine, commit to the bit.

“You called yourself a raccoon on your wedding day. I was just agreeing with you,” he replies, keeping his eyes fixed to the road.

Her eyes are on him - he can feel her stare burning into the side of his face, and his cheeks are going pink and blotchy and God, he’s an idiot–

And then she laughs. Not her polite little contained laugh, either, no, this is that loud, wide mouthed laugh that she hates, that makes her shoulders shake and her head fall back. It’s squeaky and hearty and a little obnoxious and he’s always been so obsessed with getting her to let it out, and he can’t help the smug beaming little smile he gives at the sound.

“You’re such an ass,” she says through her laugh, and Eddie can’t help but laugh with her even if it’s at his own expense, because at least she doesn’t look so goddamn sad anymore.

When they finally reach his apartment complex she’s a little more subdued, but the look on her face isn’t totally heartbreaking, and he’ll take what he can get. He comes around to the passenger side to open her door for her and helps her gather the dramatic skirt of her dress to keep it off the pavement as they head towards the stairs, and he knows he looks like an insane person as he carts a bride down the hall, but he just smiles at his nosy neighbors and lets this cement his reputation as the weird as fuck off-putting metalhead he knows they all think of him as.

He feels a little self conscious as he opens the apartment door for her, sweeping an arm dramatically to allow her to enter first. For the first time since she swept into his car, he wonders if this is a good idea. But it’s too late now – Stevie’s giving him a little smile and stepping into his home, and part of him knows this was inevitable. She may not have called him, but he was always going to come if she needed him.

He follows her inside and tries to calm the pounding of his heart, watching her take in his space, struck all over again by her beauty and the impossibility of her standing here, and silently prays he isn’t going to fuck it up all over again.

this was almost even longer, but I figure 2.5k is enough for a part 2! no tag lists, sorry, but part 3 will be here at some point. thank you to everyone who's had a kind word to say about this au these two are very near and dear to me 💕

[sparkly-sediment]

Hiya. I saw you were taking suggestions. How about Soldier with a hippie s/o. He might have despised her in the begging but she was too chill and laid back to be intimidated by him and he fell for that? :)

Tf2 Soldier x hippie s/o who doesn’t give a fuck (loves him tho) headcanons

Obsessed with this idea??

Soldier yells a lot. Obviously

It’s not incessant but if you piss him off (which you will!) he will stand a give you the ass chewing of a lifetime.

Smokes your ass like a cigarette. Veins popping, spittle flying, his head is pounding can barely breathe from his yelling. And he says pretty fucked up shit too!

Told Scout his mama was so loose he flew out on accident (Scout cried himself to sleep)

When he enters a fit most mercs try to hide. They ignored him in the beginning, but papi will get your attention and it will be with a riding crop

The most defiance anyone shows during Soldier’s rage is when Spy cloaks and flees

This hippie chick though…

Soldier didn’t like her in the beginning!!! He is a man of order and strength, and this woman is chill, she laughs at him when he is not funny, and she doesn’t seem to gaf when he barks orders

“Oh okay” “thanks Soldier” “mhm yeah for sure” “… totally”

It drives him bananas. 🍌

She’s nice enough, and does a good job on the battlefield. She never gets too drunk or wild which is a bit weird to him (what else do you do?)

Once, everyone is in the kitchen area before work, and his goddamn mitts are too big to get his toast out of the toaster so she puts it on a plate and hands it to him

Soldier like that but didn’t like that he like that

She’s always doing these small sweet things???? He doesn’t understand why and overall he doesn’t *get* her.

The others are pretty easy to read, but it’s almost as if she isn’t acting for personal gain 🤯

Even if they are relaxing (drinking) after work or on a day off, she doesn’t puss out of conversations like Scout and Sniper and doesn’t get angry like Spy and Medic

She’s just… chill? Nice to him? Exasperated but endeared?

Cue some Saturday and Soldier is yelling again. A real holler fest, reverberation is shaking the walls

Most of the mercs have clear out but she’s just sitting on the couch reading and paying literally no mind, which upsets him more

Soldier locks in on his target. Marches over to the back of the couch, looks down at her reading like A FOOL! And starts his engines

“DO YOU EVER CARE ABOUT THIS TEAM?? ABOUT THIS-“

She interrupts his spewing to stand and make eye contact this bitch is crazy!!

Hippie chick smiles, sighs, and tells him to stop yelling please, it’s not that big of a deal, and we are all teammates so please don’t make me want to hurt you ❤️

Soldier is stunned into momentary silence and before he can counter with a well places RAHH she leans in a kisses his cheek! The fuck!

He short circuits and she walks away victorious. Long story short, our little patriot realizes he has some feelings to sort through

I feel like Soldier would be very clearly head over heels and think he is hiding it so well and nobody ever knows ever but she knows and the others are to scared or in disbelief to say anything

She wears an American flag bandanna and he jizzes in his pants 😩😭🇺🇸

[th3casscad3]

A First For Everything

Lute X Virgin! Male Reader (Smut)

Every Since Your Arrival In Heaven You've Been Chased After By The Other Charming Woman. Adam, Being The Dumbass First Man Becomes Jealous Of The Attention Your Getting. So, When He Finds Out Your A Virgin He Wastes No Time Spilling The Tea. Later That Night You Hear A Knocking On The Door, To Your Surprise Its Lute. I Suppose There's A First For Everything.. Warnings: Smut, Slight Bullying, Readers First Time, Playing With Wings, Kissing, Cursing, Not Fully Naked, And Blow Job. Part 1 - Part 2 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You Had Been In Heaven For Quite Some Time And Its Fair To Say The Ladies Had Quite An Eye For You. You Didn't Mind The Flirting And Conversations As Much, But You Wouldn't Let It Go Any Further Than That. Not Because You Didn't Want To, But Because You Were A Virgin. You Just Hadn't Found A Reason To Have Intimacy On Earth And There Shouldn't Have Been A Problem With That. Sure, You Had Desires And The Need To Make Love. But, It Just Didn't Happen. Today Was Just About A Day Like Any Other, You Were Walking Around Heaven, Giving A Wave To All The Females Whom You Past And Chatting It Up With The Guys. The Next Extermination Wouldn't Be Coming Up For About Another Month So The Angel Count Was Higher Right Now. That Also Meant Adam Was Back. Great, That Man Had No Problem Fucking Every Single Woman Here In Heaven If He Felt Like It. And Boy, Felt Like It He Did. It Always Set You Off. You Could Understand Why Lilith And Eve Left Him, He's A Total Womanizer. You Sighed When You Heard His Voice Nearby. The Woman Around You Took Notice Too. Mere Moments Later Adam Was Face To Face With You, Slurping A Near Empty Soda. " Wassup, Man. " He Said With A Chuckle, Pointing Finger Guns At You. The Nerve Of This Guy, For Real. " Hey, Adam. What Can I Do Ya For? " You Spoke With A Slight Irritated Tone, He Was So Loud. Every Time He Came Around You It Feels Like Going To The Stoe With A Crying Toddler. " Nothing Much, Man. I Just Keep Noticing You Stealing All My Bitches, And That Is So Not Cool. " He Finished Slurping The Rest Of His Drink And Threw It At You. He Then Adjusted His Wings. You Noticed Lute A Few Seconds After, Standing In Her Military Pose. She Didn't Really Speak Unless It Was Backing Adam Up. But You Had Liked That She Wasn't One Of Those Ladies That Clung Onto Him. You Grunted When The Cup Landed At Your Face And Sighed. You Picked The Cup Up And Threw It Away " Adam, First Man, I Am Not Trying To Take Anyone Of These Respectable Ladies Away From You. Chill, Dude. " " Whatever Fucker. You Know That I'm The Original Dick! All Your Dicks Descend From Me, I'm Fucking Adam! Don't Go Thinking You're All High And Mighty Cause You Got Fair Looks. " He Shouted With A Scoff, Pointing His Hand To His Member. " Yeah! He's The Original Dick, Go Fuck Your Own Ass! " Lute Said Pointing To You Before Standing Back Into Position. " Lute, Fuck. Chill. Bitch. " Adam Scoffed. He Then Proceed To Laugh At You Before Leaving With A Few Females In His Arms. Lute Following Behind Him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ You Weren't Aware At Forst Until You Noticed The Snickering Coming From The Extermination Females. You Raised An Eyebrow And Shook It Off, But The Worrisome Knot In Your Stomach Didn't Go Away. The Men Had Been Laughing At You Every Time You Passed Them. Finally Thats When You Overheard What Was Being Talked About. " How Does This Man Pull Anybody, He's A Virgin " One Guy Laughed. The Other Male's Followed Behind With More Whispers And Snickering. Embarrassed And Highly Annoyed You Made Your Way Back To Your House. You Knew Exactly Who Had Managed To Pull This Stunt And To Say You Were Enraged Wouldn't Even Begin To Describe How You Were Feeling. This Was Suppose To Be Heaven, Yet The Way Everybody Was Suddenly Treating You Because You're A Virgin.. Really Makes You Feel Like You're In Hell. You Hadn't Came Back Out Of Your Quarters At All That Day, Figuring You'd Need Time To Let The Talk Of The Town Die Down. You Hadn't Confirmed It To Be True So Hopefully Nobody Will Continue To Worry About It. You Sighed Sitting On Your Couch. Just When You Thought You Were Going To Have A Regular Day. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The Evening Turned To Night Quicker Than You Realized. You Were Disrupted From Your Tv Show By A Knocking At The Door. You Stood Up And Flew Down, Opening The Door To Be Greeted By Lute. Your Expression Is One Of Utter Confusion As She Makes Her Way Inside And Sits On Your Couch. You Takle A Second To Process Her Arrival Before Groaning And Closing The Door Behind You. You Make Your Way In Front Of Her. " Why Are You Here, Lute? " You Said With Slight Irritation. You Knew Adam Was The Cause For The Rumor And Lute Was Always At His Feet. " I Hear You're A Virgin..? I'm Here To Change That. " She Speaks As She Crosses Her Legs. Her Arms Crossed Against Her Chest. She Wasn't Kidding. " You Aren't Going To Laugh At Me, Or Beat Me Up About This. What's In It For You, To Go Run To Adam As Proof That I Am A Virgin " You Scoffed, You Could See She Was Serious But You Needed More Proof " Adam Doesn't Know I'm Here. I'm Just Wanting To Help You Out, Okay. We've Had Our Fights So Its Not Like I'm A Stranger. I'll Be Gentle. " Lute Looked You In The Eyes And Spoke In A Stern Reassuring Tone. You Wont Lie, The Idea Of Having Intimacy With Lute Was Everyman's Dream. You've Even Thought Of It. So After A Moment Of Thinking You Nodded Your Head Yes. Lute Smiled And You Two Made Your Way To The Bedroom. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Before You Could Truly Process What Was Happening, You Were Seated On The Bed And Lute Was In Between Your Thighs. She Was Gently Caressing Your Member, The Feeling Of It Hardening Sent A Shiver Down Your Spine. This Was Really Happening, You Felt Your Hard Member Press Against Your Pants. " Let Me Know When It Becomes To Much, Okay. Just Relax " Lute Spoke As She Took Your Pants And Boxers off, Exposing Your Hardened Member, You Had Pre-Cum Already Leaking Down. Lute Gently Started To Rub Your Member. Her Soft Hands Rubbing You And Down. You Closed Your Eyes, Enjoying The Sensation Being Given To You. Your Virgin Dick Twitched. She Brought Your Head To Her Mouth And Slowly Started To Tease Your Tip. You Grunted And Threw Your Head Back. Buckling Your Hips. Lute Smiled And Took You In, Swirling Her Tongue Around Your Cock As She Bobbed Her Head Up And Down. You Let Out A Couple Soft Moans, Just Enjoying The Feeling. Lute Was Gentle And Wanted To Make Sure You Felt Everything She Was Doing. She Jerked You Off Until You Felt A Knot In Your Stomach. You Had Never Experienced This Before But Your Cock Twitched And Felt The Need To Thrust Your Hips Into Her Mouth. Gripping Her Hair As You Shoved Yourself Inside Of Her, It Didn't Take Long For The Knot To Snap As You Came In Lutes Mouth. You Moaned Out As Lute Cleaned You Up. " You Did Well. Same Time Tomorrow? You Still Have A Lot To Learn "

[b4mpyre-k1zz3s]

Hii i was so in love with ur ville fic 🖤 I was wondering if you wanted to write something like ville x musician!fem! reader? Like they’re playing in a festival together and she can’t place why ville is nice to everybody but her but he’s just having a hard time expressing that he likes herrr? Tysm 🖤

You’re So Cold

Once Y/N discovers the reasons behind Ville’s cold, disattached behavior, she finds herself fascinated with this twisted game the two of them play.

Ville Valo X Fem!Reader

(Fluff, angst)

1.7k Words

Warnings: Suggestive content, smoking, alcohol

An: Thank you so much for the request!! I’m really surprised how well my Ville fics are doing because I didn’t expect him to have the sort of reach my other fics might! I actually received annother request while writing this that I used to create this fic so I included the one I didn’t reply to directly but still used below! Nonetheless, I adore writing for him and would love to write more for him in the future! Anyways, thank you for the request and please keep sending more in!

Nürburg, 2001- brushing shoulders with the likes of Godsmack, Papa Roach, and Linkin Park was you, and you’d never felt more out of place. See, the issue arose with the fact that while your music was popular, it wasn’t that kind of popular, and especially not outside of Europe. Surrounded by so many musicians that you yourself loved and respected, you started to feel a little out of place after you nearly stumbled into someone backstage that you were pretty sure was Alanis Morissette. It also didn’t help that, due to traffic that morning, you were cutting it pretty close for such a large event so you had to hurry onstage just before call time. Still, you held yourself together; anyone in your position would be over the moon to be performing at the Rock Am Ring, so you took a deep breath and stepped out onto that stage, looking out at the imposing sea of people in front of you- tens of thousands of them. But it was as if all of that anxiety melted away with that first surge of adrenaline. In that moment, you were feeling pretty damn invincible.

That performance is what drew Ville to you. The passion you had for your music was palpable- he could feel it, all the way from where the rest of the bands were chilling out backstage. They were drinking and laughing, blatantly ignoring the enchanting performance that the woman on stage was putting on. What idiots. Taking a sip of his beer, Ville cocked his head a little to get a better look at you, “Who’s that?” Sitting across from him, on a riser cluttered with gear with his own drink in hand, one of the other performing artists- Fred Durst of Limp Bizkit fame- glanced over to the stage and spoke up, “You mean that chick?” With a raise of an eyebrow, he gestured towards you with a tilt of the bottle he was holding. “Oh, that’s Y/N. I ran into her earlier- seems pretty cool.” His words went in one of Ville’s ears and out the other, too enraptured with you to really pay attention, “Yeah, cool…”

Now, this isn’t something you’d easily admit, but you were a fan of Ville; I mean, if you were living in Europe in the 2000s, it was kind of hard not to be a fan of HIM. Point is, once you got offstage and was greeted by the obligatory high fives and the ‘nice job up there’s that follow a show put on well, you were pretty excited to meet him. Sitting down next to Ville, you chuckled a little to yourself as Chester Bennington- yes, that Chester Bennington handed you a beer. Being among all these real deal artists made you feel that you really made it. Using one of your rings to pop the cap off your beer, you tried not to sound like a total fangirl when you made small talk with Ville, “So, how’d your set go?” But instead of saying it went well and asking you how things went for you, he didn’t even dignify you with a response. Thinking he didn’t hear you, you decided to introduce yourself, “Hey, I’m Y/N! It's really awesome t’meet you, man.”

There was a cold, unamused look on Ville’s face as he murmured a response, “I’m aware.” However, underneath that particularly unapproachable mask he was putting on, far from anything he let bubble to the surface, there were fireworks going off in his head. God, this woman seems so relaxed, so genuine around him- usually, women become overexcited chihuahuas in his presence. And she smelled really nice too, which he had to wonder about if that was a weird thing to think about someone you only just talked to for the first time. Point is, even though he saw himself as concealing his emotions very well here, everyone who he was being all cordial with right before you showed up could see through that charade.

During the festival, you and the rest of the performers were staying in the same hotel for security reasons, and by that I mean the entire place was rented out for the weekend you were staying at- not just a couple floors, the entire hotel. Sure, the place was small but shit, presidents don’t even get this kind of treatment, so you didn’t complain. Despite the disappointing lack of typical rockstar behavior during your stay (you only saw one TV get thrown through a window the whole time), you were having a spectacular time listening to wild tour stories and sharing ideas with like minded artists. Well, except with Ville. Whenever you were hanging out in a group with him, he’d be all cool and relaxed, discussing poetry or niche literature or whatever intelligent assholes like him care about, but as soon as you tried to chime in with your input, he’d get quiet and act as if you weren't even there. Being written off so fast by a guy you respected felt like a blow to the gut, even if you pretended to shrug it off as behavior typical of a man who has women fainting when he passes by on the street.

Since attending wild ragers wasn't exactly Ville’s scene, he usually spent his evenings holed up at the hotel bar, and it was there that one of his band mates, Linde, decided to address the brooding little prince of darkness in the room, “Why don’t you just tell her you like her?” It was painfully obvious to everyone around Ville- everyone except you, and that’s where the problem lay. Despite the image of the confident, sensitive romantic that he projected to the world, he was never too good at expressing emotions because he never really had to be. But you were different. There was this air that followed you wherever you went- this mystique that had him by the neck. So, instead of running the risk of fucking things up, he kept his distance. “If only it were that simple.” Esoteric as always, Ville lit up a cigarette and thought about how lucky he is that you weren't there to hear what he was confessing.

But the funny thing is that you were. In fact, you were sitting at a table not twenty feet away from where this conversation was happening. You would’ve thought he’d realize you were there given the fact that the bar really wasn’t all that busy that night. Still, completely oblivious, Ville went on about how he was so utterly transfixed by your mere presence and that he felt like an utter fool for being unable to muster up the courage to even talk to you as if he were some clumsy teenager. Raking a hand through his hair with a sigh, his throat was tense with traces of silent worry, “I’m going to make an idiot of myself…” The irony of this whole situation captivated you: here you were, needing to force every interaction like pulling teeth under the assumption he couldn’t stand you, while in reality Ville had been quietly agonizing over you the entire time.

It was a happy, stupidly coincidental confluence of events, like a plot point in a cheesy rom-com. A smile gnawed at the corners of your lips and you decided to take things into your own hands, seeing as he couldn’t. Oh so quietly creeping over to where Ville sat at the bar the way a lynx would stalk a canary, you slipped onto the stool next to him, making your presence known. “How about you buy me a drink?” No matter how cool he tried to play, you could tell he nearly jumped out of his skin at the purr of your voice from the way Ville’s eyes flashed wide for a moment before he turned to you. The amused glint in your gaze, that confident smirk on your lips- you were making his willpower melt away like wet merengue. Ville cleared his throat, keeping his cool as well as he could, “Oh, sure. What’s your poison?”

And sure, you made some small talk with him, but that was more so an excuse for you to watch him squirm in so many subtle ways. Notice the gentle flush creeping up his neck when you mentioned that you were a fan of his, the way he subtly fiddled with the label of his beer as the sound of his suave demeanor cracking sounded like music to your ears. But when the bartender came back with your drink, you quietly palmed the short glass with ice and slipped away, leaving the man with the unshakable resolve at the bar to contemplate what the hell just happened. Surprised at your boldness, Linde summed up what Ville was thinking with one word. “Wow…”

It was only when you left to retire to your room that night that you ran into him again. Mentally occupying yourself with wondering what tomorrow may bring, what with the forced proximity between you both, you didn’t notice Ville’s presence until you saw a thin, ring-clad hand dart out to stop the closing elevator doors. “You know,” nimbly slipping into the cab, he drawled in that beautiful Finnish accent, “usually when someone buys you a drink, it’s customary to stick around a little while.” Looking Ville up and down from, leaning against the opposite wall with arms folded, a smirk crossed your face as you hit the button for your floor. The elevator buzzed to life as you conceded your teasing, “Alright, I get it. How about I buy you a drink?” Taking a few steps forward, you closed the little distance between the two of you, standing nearly chest to chest with him, “Perhaps…a nightcap in my room?” You were so close that you could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, meeting your gaze with a slight smile, “Ah…Well, it’s not like I could say no to that.”

[jacksprostate]

Bob in female fight club au. Thoughts

Probably named Marge

Rather than doing a direct inversion (ie making the character the exact opposite, much tits -> no tits, etc) I think sort of an analogue would work better riffing off the motherly role Bob has, in combination with the group being for uterine cancer/ovarian cancer

The women come together, and they cry, cry, cry, over lost husbands, who left them because they got cancer, because overwhelmingly, men leave if their wife gets cancer, over lost relationships with children, who stayed but resent them, over lost Motherhood, that thing you were told was your worth but now you are told you're shit. Remaining Women Together. Despite. Despite despite despite.

What is it, about purposes. Want to see misery, see women fed their own physical oppression as lost salvation.

Marge, whatever her name is, her husband divorced her, left her with the kids and medical bills stacked as high as she is tall. She is thankful she still has her kids, it makes her feel like she's still worth something. She's had to try and get back into the workforce. No one wants to hire dear former stay at home mother Marge. She shows you her kids in her wallet in her purse and there are no pictures of her. There's a picture of her old husband, which she keeps to show her kids if they ask. They're old enough to go to school now, which is good, because it gives her more time to work. Life is hard, but she's doing her best.

Marge, who is on hormone therapy so she doesn't get those "side effects" she's heard about from other total hysterectomy patients, the future of early dementia and degeneration and horror. Who does pelvic floor exercises in hopes it will minimise the fallout of the surgery. Who carefully rips every hair out of her upper lip and chin because even if it would be normal for a woman, a woman whose gone through menopause, a woman at all — she knows, it's probably the estrogen tipping back over into testosterone, and she can't handle any more losses. She compensates. They all do.

The support group is her Me Time. It is the single hour plus half hour commute she can afford once a week for herself. So she gets here, and she cries, cries, cries, and the others cry with her, all over how their lives have fallen apart since they got ovarian cancer, got breast cancer, and their lives derailed because they can't be proper women anymore.

They cry in their waterproof makeup. Another product to promise womanhood. Identify yourself via consumption. Identify yourself by covering yourself up.

And when she finds fight club. When she finds something that says, jesus fuck. You are more than your children. You are more than your ability to have kids. You aren't a failed woman, that's a sack of shit you've been sold wholesale. When she finds something that promises her she will grow, achieve personhood, not because she was the ultimate martyr mother, not because she played the game of human or woman, but because it promises a freedom from all that, identification and repulsion of such sickening chains. When she stops worrying about her slightly deepened voice, and works to keep her dose even keel for her health, to avoid the toxic highs of accidentally juicing, rather than the lesser effects of a black lip hair or two. When she has a photo, not of herself in her wallet, but of the things she makes with other women from fight club, of the one view of the sunset from that one parking lot that she always thought was wonderful, when she has things in her wallet for her and her enjoyment. When she has corded muscle and a built up spine, when she sits her kids down and explains why they only see dad one weekend every other month, all the fun holidays, because dad decided staying with her through cancer was too hard even when she stayed with him through four lost jobs pissed away in alcohol and lottery tickets.

And Marge, who gets shot by the police on a regulation chill-and-drill assignment for Project Mayhem. Whose obituary in the newspaper talks about the children she left behind, how she battled cancer and kept caring for them, how she was such a strong mother, whose kids would now be shipped off to their grieving father who is so, so brave and stunning for standing up and taking care of the kids he made and dropped as soon as his live-in servant had a few issues. Her name is Marge Paulson, and she was forty-eight years old. She was a person. She will be remembered in the annals of Project Mayhem, lest what little there was of her be stolen from the world. She was killed by Project Mayhem, but they're the only ones who will remember Marge Paulson.

[fuck-customers]

Not exactly a fuck customers but more like ‘what the fuck, why are people like this’.

I work at a small library in my little town. Small as in, there are only five people who work here total. So you can probably guess, our building is much smaller than most libraries. We do have an auditorium though, one that takes up like 30% of the building. It can be rented and is used for library programs, but when it’s not being used, the lights are turned off and the two entrances have signs that say that ‘for library use only’ or some such thing, meaning, if there’s nobody in there and the doors are closed, lights are off, it’s off limits to patrons. Makes sense, right?

So the other day, I go in for my afternoon shift as usual. It’s after the holiday so there are a lot of returns. My supervisor goes to grab an extra cart so we can divide up the returns, otherwise I’d never get it done all by myself by we closed. She has to go into the auditorium to get the extra cart, which is locked from the side with the actual library but the other door, which is right by our side exist, must have been open. Anyway, she goes in and while I’m digging through books waiting for her, I hear some sort of conversation/noise but don’t think much of it. About this time I notice a patron come and set up with his laptop at one of work tables and put on his headphones. Our other coworker is on his dinner break and again, I don’t think much of any of this.

Anyway, it gets to be around an hour/half an hour ish before we start closing duties and it’s been slow except for a few people coming and going. During this time we sometimes bullshit while we wait for the clock to run down.

My supervisor notes that the man that was sitting at the work table has finally left and then glances at the security monitor, noting the car that was parked next to mine in the employee parking area of our back lot is now gone.

Come to find out, not only was said guy here right at opening, parked halfway into the employee parking area when that’s a total of like three spots (he’s also not someone she recognized when she’s been there 5+ years), apparently this guy was just chilling in the dark fucking auditorium all day? On his laptop, working away? When we’d been open since 10:30 am and he left at like 7pm? Thats what all the noise I had heard earlier was about. She opened the door to the auditorium to get the extra cart we needed, and just causally found this fucker sitting there, doing his thing? She literally had to say to tell him he was welcome to work online just not in here cause that’s not an area open to the public? I think he apologized but still??? He wouldn’t have even been able to access the wifi without the password. But he was just sitting in there the whole goddamn day. Without anyone knowing. And then it gets dark and he doesn’t even have any of the lights on. There’s signs on both doors about this at eye level? Hun, we couldn’t locked you in and never even known it. The side door is locked 15 mins before close and the other doors can’t be opened from the inside.

I love this job, but some of these people I wanna put under a microscope and study for science.

Posted by admin Rodney.

[weirdozjunkary]

OKAY SO! I literally JUST got back from watching the FNAF movie and HOLY FUCK DID I ENJOY IT! I have SO MUCH to talk about from it oh my god! I would give it a solid 8 or 9/10. Not prefect but I enjoyed it so much.

Non spoiler right below and full spoilers under the cut.

Spoiler free- I absolutely adored the movie! The entire cast did a splendid job! I couldn’t be happier with everything that I saw on the screen! For what it is it was astounding! So much love to the fans and everyone that had worked on FNAF in the past. My only complaints was the pacing and dialogue as the pacing was a bit jumpy and the dialogue felt awkward at times, as well I know that the whole lore of FNAF itself would limit a fair bit of an audience. But other than that I loved it so much. From the animatronics to the actors to the cinematography, all of it was beautiful and I truly hope that Scott makes at least one more, but if not I’m still happy what we got.

Full spoilers- I adored everyone who was on screen, from mike to Abby to Vanessa, the animatronics and William, all of them were a delight to watch. The movie truly felt like it was one of Scott’s works, from the serious stuff to the jokes, it was brilliant. A lot of my favourite jokes were with Abby and Mike not taking any shit.

What I found interesting was how they made Vanessa the daughter of William Afton, wether adopted or by blood. I think she could have been more of a use than she did, as she mostly just warned Mike until the very end where she did one thing and then got stabbed. But other than that I think she had a good amount of screen time.

Mike and Abby were great from the start, I do wish we got more backstory from Mike though, like to show more how he’s troubled rather than just keep repeating that his brother got kidnapped. But Abby was really good from the start. I did like how she saw the ghosts kids before Mike got the job rather than right after from what you usually see in movies with ghosts.

The animatronics were stunning onscreen. They looked so good! The perfect balance between creepy and cute. They all had great moments showing both how they are just both kids stuck in children’s entertainment animatronics, and also animatronics needing to kill people for Afton.

Speaking of which, my BIGEST complaint about afton was that he wasn’t in the movie enough. He had a total of I think ten minuets of screen time, and that’s only five from the beginning and five at the end. But still, he was exceptionally off putting every time he was onscreen. Mathew did an excellent job at that.

The fucking matpat cameo though. Oh my god that was fucking hilarious. Him just being a waiter in a diner was the best fucking way they could’ve put him in without just being that crazy guyTM. And the fact he literally says “that’s just a theory” my god. ALSO THERE WAS FETCH! THE MOST FAMOUS FUCKING FNAF ROUMOR EVER!

The ending was great, and the perfect sendoff. The kids finally realizing that Afton was the guy who killed them. And the fact that they made the spring locks of his suit go off. And then watching the kids drag him away from the main floor was bone chilling. And at the very end seeing the kid in the golden Freddy suit stare at Afton as he’s bleeding out, always inches from death but he’s not letting him die, then shut the door as Afton quietly reaches his hand out to him, that was my favourite moment of the entire movie. And of course there was the famous line “I always come back.”

[kyberrebel]

Things that went through my mind during Ahsoka Episode 6

Ahsoka is talking about not having enough time to prepare Sabine to make the right choice about leaving to find Ezra, when I don’t think any amount of training could have changed her mind. Kanan’s gone, Hera, Chopper and Zeb are often off doing New Republic stuff. Even with Ahsoka back as her Master, she is probably still feeling extremely alone. She loves Ezra, and there is no way Ahsoka could have convinced her not to go.

“Perhaps for Sabine it was the only choice.” See, Huyang gets it

Huyang saying “A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away” is making me laugh my ass off

It’s hilarious, yet makes me slightly uncomfortable, since Star Wars never really breaks the fourth wall

How dare they not let Sabine share a room with her new girlfriend, Shin

OKAY BUT SERIOUSLY. LOOK AT THE WAY SHIN LOOKS AT SABINE IN THE COCKPIT, I love my space lesbians

Wow, Shin has talked more in this episode than she has in the whole show so far.

Baylon DEFINITELY has his own plan he is hiding from Morgan and the witches. Can’t wait to see how that goes

SABINE IS FINALLY USING THE FO- oh, never mind

The shot of the battered Star Destroyer arriving combined with the music is giving me chills

Hey, those are some cool ass looking Stormtroo- OH SHIT ITS THRAWN

ITS ABOUT TIME

Such an amazing entrance into live-action for him. I feel it is definitely succeeding at letting casual, non-rebel-watching fans know how important and how big of a figure he is.

I’m sorry but he still totally looks like a blue Elon Musk. 

Soooooo… Where’s Ezra?

I just know Ezra would love collecting all those cool Stormtrooper helmets

I don’t know what the rat-dog thing  is but I love him

SABINE USE YOUR LIGHTSABER

Oh hey, she actually listened to me

Lars Mikkelsen is doing a great job so far at portraying Thrawn in live-action. His mannerisms and body language are just like they were in Rebels. 

STOP YELLING AT THE RAT-DOG, SABINE, HE CAME BACK AND IS TRYING HIS BEST

No, but seriously Rat-Dog is adorable and I would die for him

*Me singing* Teenage mutant ninja turtles, teenage mutant ninja turtles!

TMNT-looking dudes know Ezra… Okay where is he then?? 

AGHHHJBJKSDK IT’S EZRA

EZRA I MISSED YOU *actually crying*

Ngl I’m kind of sad his hair isn’t blue BUT I’M STILL SO HAPPY HE’S HERE 

We all needed that hug, let’s be honest

Rat-dog is called a Howler? Good to know.

I was so scared that Ezra would be all traumatized, depressed, and a shell of himself when we saw him again, I’m so happy that’s not the case. He seems to be doing great, all things considering

I wonder if Sabine will give him back his lightsaber, or if he has been using the force at all since he’s been gone.

I hate to nitpick, but, they made his eyes blue (which I’m happy about) but not his hair??

Oh right, for a few minutes, I actually forgot Ahsoka was on her way and that this was her show

Like how last episode was for TCW fans, this episode was for Rebels fans!! Another great episode.

[ashleywool]

"I LOVED THAT SHOW"

I wore my How to Dance in Ohio hoodie to church today. It's Palm Sunday and we did our customary palm procession from Duffy Square into the building, which is nice and all except winter decided to come back and bite my skin off again...so that sweatshirt seemed like the best choice as warm enough for the weather + can fit under my choir robe + won't get swelteringly uncomfortable once we're inside at the service. It did the job. Truly the ultimate transition piece. Get yours today while supplies last.

At fellowship afterwards, someone from the congregation that I didn't know--she's only in NYC part of the year--pointed out my sweatshirt and said "I LOVED THAT SHOW!"

It took her a moment to recognize me (she initially confused me for Madison, which, yeah that happens, I'll never be mad about it), and we had a lovely chat about the show. And what I noticed after walking away was...the subject of autism, or me being autistic, didn't come up at all.

I love and cherish the advocacy aspect of my work on HTDIO. I love and cherish the opportunity it gave me to be the autistic representation I wished I'd had growing up. But I have to say, it was SO nice to have someone, a total stranger, talking about the show and loving the show independent of The Autism Part.

It was wonderful being part of discussions about diverse representation, and I will never turn down opportunities to eagerly participate in those conversations. But I really wanted us to stick around long enough that the "novelty" aspect of "autistic characters played by autistic actors" (or even "canonically nonbinary/genderqueer characters") would wear off sufficiently for more people, so they could focus on the story and the characters and the music and all the other things that make our show great irrespective of the Representation aspect.

I've had a ROUGH few weeks, y'all. Truthfully, I've been going through one of the worst depressive episodes of my life. Aside from the obvious grief factor and logistical stressors, it turns out that post-operative depression is absolutely a thing. While I'd like to think I'm cognitively and emotionally mature enough to handle this level of change, especially considering how lucky I am to have robust support systems in family, friends, and healthcare practitioners, my very autistic nervous system has had a difficult time letting the sympathetic part cooperate with the parasympathetic part. So I've been a ball of tension, exhaustion, and worst of all, that soul-sucking apathy where nothing seems enjoyable or interesting, but maybe it would be if I had the energy to be interested.

It's helped to find a great physical therapy clinic that is giving me comprehensive, multi-pronged care and NOT charging me copays (because apparently my insurance pays them excellently--thank you, Equity-League and Cigna). It's helped that I got back in touch with a therapist I had seen years ago on BetterHelp (she's since left the platform and honestly, GOOD FOR HER). It's helped that I have parents with the means to help me out financially--and, crucially, the means to keep me accountable without resorting to pressure and guilt-tripping. It's helped to still live in a city where financial assistance isn't excruciatingly hard to come by if all else fails (at least compared to other states). It's helped to have agents submitting me for tons of exciting projects, and having several cabarets and readings to look forward to in this time of transition. It's helped to have a really chill, supportive church community keeping me spiritually grounded without buying into the yt American evangelical toxicity. It's helped to have my cats.

But sometimes, what makes me the happiest of all, is hearing "I LOVED THAT SHOW!"

I'll never not be proud to be known for How to Dance in Ohio and everything we stood for. I'm proud that the love was real, and the quality of the material reflected and reverberated that love. I'm proud of the representation aspect, and I'm proud that it wasn't just about that. And people who saw it, saw all of that.

It's so comforting to know that we shared this show with enough people that it's going to continue to matter.

People aren't going to forget.

I love that for us.

By the way, it was too cold to really show it off, but this is the shirt I wore underneath the sweatshirt. :)

[red-moon-at-night]

Currently concocting the most self-indulgent 'normal' Milgram AU in the world right now... I am going to make these fuckers Found Family and give them a chance to come to terms with their situations and themselves... 

All through the power of a goddamn fish shop/aquatics store.

Hear me out okay:

So we know that from his interrogation questions, Kazui has a childhood friend who he looks up to, that has a boat and if the world ended tomorrow he would go fishing. He mentions to Mikoto in a timeline conversation that one of of his hobbies is trawling. I am taking these facts and running with them like my life depends on it.

In this AU everyone lives in relative proximity to each other (I will have to think about exactly where later) and are all in different stages of their ‘sins’, but notably no one has actually killed a person.

Kazui is a widower having a midlife crisis at 39 and taking time off of work/leaves his job altogether to pursue something new - like helping out his childhood friend with his fishing-store-come-fishkeeping-aquatics-shop. Yes it’s weird that it’s both but it brings in more footfall and more customers (is what his childhood friend tells him). It becomes a bit of a running gag. Kazui also starts running martial arts classes in the evenings because I can totally see that being something he wished he’d done instead of... whatever his old job was. Anyway, he’s depressed but somewhat happy doing the things he loves.

Meanwhile over to the left we have Haruka finally being discharged from a psychiatric unit on a community treatment order (yay!) Part of that community treatment order includes a program where individuals volunteer in the local community with partnered businesses... Haruka picks the fish shop, obviously. But he’s getting paid for it, because Kazui is not about to agree to free child labour. So Haruka gets a job!

Cue a journey of self-discovery in which Haruka learns he is actually not useless or a burden to society. He can do things? He’s been given responsibility? And he enjoys it?? Mind blown. Kazui is there to support and encourage along the way. Just wholesome all around (except for the trauma Haruka has to unpack about his mother and her fish tank ohoho-)

Haruka is the first kid Kazui ‘adopts’. The second kid is Muu who wanders in the shop one afternoon, missing a shoe and has a thousand-yard stare in her eyes. We then have this scene: Kazui asks if she’s okay and she eventually replies something along the lines of “yeah I’m fine I just tripped while trying to catch up with a... friend” and Kazui then asks if that’s why she’s only wearing one shoe and if she needs a spare and she says “no I just forgot to put it on until now thanks for reminding me” and takes a shoe out of her bag and puts it on. Kazui decides she’s exactly the right kind of person for Haruka to practice his social skills with and gets him to go over there and help her out. They awkwardly talk about the betta fish tank they’re standing next to. She leaves. She comes in the next day and says she’s decided to set up a new tank at home could she get some help with supplies. The rest is history.

Muu starts skipping school and hanging out at the fish shop, to get away from her... situation at school. She still hasn’t talked to Rei since that day in the bathroom. Kazui is slightly concerned but also isn’t a snitch and would’ve bunked off school as a youth so is pretty chill with it as long as she’s safe. The fish crew is born.

Some extra very important bits of lore:

Kazui takes Haruka on dad-and-son fishing trips.

At some point Kazui ‘adopts’ a third kid except it’s actually his child from a fling about two decades ago. It’s Yuno. He doesn't actually know he has a kid until her mother gets into contact with him, saying her daughter wants to meet her biological dad can she please come and see him. Kazui has an existential crisis. Kazui agrees. They set up a date and he's asking his fish shop crew about what kids their age like and learning very little because he’s taken in two very weird teenagers. Muu does end up telling him about brands of makeup/clothes/perfume/etc. that girls like, which of course is all expensive and possibly designer.

So yeah Kazui and Yuno meet and she runs circles around him. She's her wonderfully sweet but cold self. They talk about his dead wife and he is dying inside. They exchange contact numbers and emails. She wants to see him again which surprises Kazui because that's Not the vibe he was getting from her.

The university students exist and they all go to the same one. For now it’s mainly Kotoko and Mahiru lesbian hours. She’s a law student, and she’s a literature student, sharing a class (maybe linguistics) and slowly becoming aware of each other’s existence. Mahiru likes girls but she doesn’t know it yet. Mahiru sits on campus and does a bit of people watching, writing stories inspired by what she sees - and maybe one day she sees Kotoko doing her vigilante shenanigans and falls a little bit in love. Kotoko is oblivious to this (is what she tells herself). They end up working on a class project together and become weird friends. 

Kotoko is very much doing her side gig of apprehending criminals and punching the daylights out of them. No deaths... yet. She wants to improve her technique so starts going to the martial arts night classes run by Kazui. Mahiru eventually ropes into watching one time so she can make notes for action scenes she wants to write. She also ends up joining. It's fun!

Haruka also learns some martial arts with Kazui, having one to one sessions before classes start. It’s good for him, to get his pent up anger out in a non-destructive way, to redirect all that energy somewhere. He’s scarily good. This results in him building the courage somewhere down the line to join in on the actual classes, at least every now and then. He and Kotoko spar and it impresses her just a teeeeeny tiny bit.

[beck-a-leck]

I can't sleep, so I'm gonna ramble for a bit about an AU that's been entertaining me recently.

Lord of the Rings Summer Camp AU

Basically the War for the Ring is just one Extremely Intense game of capture the flag (ring) that happens every summer between two rival summer camps that share a lake or something.

Like, basic rules: Each camp designates one camper to be the Ring Bearer. They must keep the ring on them at all times. They cannot pass the ring off to another camper, except under special circumstances, or to a councilor. Their job is to find a way to get the ring to the other camp and put it in the designated place without getting caught or losing the ring. If they succeed by the end of camp, they win! If the other camp steals the ring and gets it to their rival's designated spot then they win. Rival camp councelors are allowed to take the ring if they can get it away from the bearer, but it must be given to their own team's Ring Bearer. Secrecy is often the key to success in this matter.

And now the cast:

Frodo, Sam, Merey, and Pippin: four new campers this year. They all grew up on stories of from Uncle Bilbo about his fun times at camp, and now they're old enough to go and super ready for their first time at camp! Frodo gets designated Ring Bearer (definitely not a rigged choice)

Gandalf: Nobody's quite sure if he owns the camp or he's like the Head Councilor. Sometimes he's actively engaged in camp activities, other times he's off doing Old Man Shit. Very frequently can be found chilling with Bilbo as they watch the game unfold

Aragorn: he's one of the camp legacy kids. Been coming every summer since he was little (his sorta-dad works there) and now that he's old enough he's become one of the Junior Councilors. Aka the almost-adult they trust to run the kids around and supervise them in the woods and during Ring Shenanigans

Boromir and Faramir: their first summer at camp. Boromir's Aragorn's age and also a Junior Councilor. For whatever reason he's got beef with Aragorn and totally deals woth it in a healthy way. Faramir's just under the age cut off for Camper vs Councilor. (He didn't even want to come but their dad said he had to) and he spends most of his time chilling with the other guys around his age and also at the stables.

Legolas: sent here because his dad thought a summer away from home would be good for him and also he should see his cousin (arwen) more and his paperwork was half-done (a d daddy's off to europe for a month byeeeee) so nobody's quite sure how old he is, so sometimes they think he's a camper and other times he's a junior councilor and he just kind of rolls with it off the vibes of the day. (So he's definitely not telling his birth date)

Gimli: an older camper, but his first time at camp. For some reason he immediately imprints on the four teenies (the hobbits) and decides he's just gonna tag along with their group during camp. Couldn't possibly be because Aragorn and Boromir are their councilors and Legolas tags along after Aragorn.

(The chaos in this camp drives Elrond Bananas, but Gandalf just kinda shrugs and always counters with 'the kids are having fun. There's no harm in it')

Arwen and Eowyn: its not a co-ed camp, but their dads are both staff members so guess where they're spending their summers. As the only two girls, they became friends out of necessity. Elrond maybe actually owns the camp? He's at keast the guy keeping things organized and moving. Eowyn's uncle owns/runs the stables, so she's most often found working there. Her brother and cousin do most of the riding lessons for the campers and she's often left out. (The adults tend to turn a blind eye when Goold Old Dernhelm, who's definitely been a camper since day one, shows up to activities)

Other folks from the story probably have various filler rolls. Generally vibing with the idea that leaders/kings/queens are the Adults TM and actual Camp Councilors and Staff.

Galadriel is probably camp nurse. Her office is the one air conditioned building in camp, and yeah getting hurt or severely dehydrated sucks, but spending a time in the Lothlorien Cabin is just So Rejuvenating.

Meanwhile in the other camp... Camp Mordor:

Sauron: there's no ambiguity here he owns the camp, he runs the camp, he's in charge. Though he's not above using underlings to get most of the work done

Saruman: he thinks he's second in commant, and generally Sauron lets him be, because he can't be arsed to micromanage every camp group's activities. There's some feud between him and Gandalf that's honestly funny to watch. Takes the Ring Games almost as seriously as Sauron.

The orcs: generally they're the campers in Camp Mordor. Some of the older ones might be in the role of Junior Councilors, but they're all the kids who are going to do most of the work during the Ring Games.

The Nazgul: theyre the adult camp councilors. Easily identified by their uniform shirts, which are black (and honestly the worst choice for a summer where it can often reach 90 in the shade). They take their ditues very seriously. Most of them are legacy campers who eventually aged into councilors as they got older.

Oh my god i nearly forgot Gollum/Smeagol!

Genuinely nobody is sure where this poor kid came from. He might just be some wild kid living in the woods. Nobody claims his as a camper. But also, they're not gonna let some (possibly homeless) dirty child starve, and Bilbo ends up feeling really bad for the poor thing whenever he wanders into camp. So they feed him and let him join in on camp activities when he's around. He's extremely shy of the adults and often doesn't let them see or catch him (they barely got his name from him and nobody's sure if Gollum is a self-appointed nickname or not). Nobody is convinced that he's not really a secret agent for the Other Side. He seems to have an unhealthy obsession with the ring and has been known to steal it from the ring bearers in both sides and run off into the woods to hide with it (Aragorn's usually the one who tracks him to his hidey hole)

Also, Bilbo's just like a financier or something. Not camp staff, but friends with Gandalf and he just spends his summer also watching the Ring Games (rumor is he started the first ever Ring Game when he was a boy at camp). Often found enjoying the comforts of Not Being a Camper and doing Old Man Shit with Gandalf.

[xanadontit]

Read on for updates!

The new job is in commercial insurance which is a totally new field for me. I don't think I've mentioned it here but I have been out of work for some time. Tech and startups, man. Anyway, I was considering making a change in my search when my friend D asked if I'd consider insurance. Sure, why not? Great, because her husband (yes, That Guy) was making a move to his previous brokerage and thinks I'd be a great addition to the team. Before I knew it I had an offer and was enrolled in licensing classes. I passed my test and officially applied for my license last week. The job so far is chill; small boutique woman-owned place. Hybrid schedule with two days in the office. Pay isn't great but the benefits are outstanding and there's potential to make more money.

Speaking of the classes, I forgot how much I like school when I'm not worried about shit like the prom or in the middle of a breakdown. And the material was actually kind of interesting? Idk I had fun and am thinking about getting another insurance license and maybe one in real estate. Why not? If Heather Rae El-Moussa can sell a house why can't I?

In the midst of the job stuff and my stepmom's surgery my aunt (dad's youngest sister) passed away. She was taken off life support and cremated per her wishes; we weren't particularly close but she was a kind, gentle soul and I'm sad for my dad and his remaining siblings. Planning for her memorial has been way more complicated than it needs to be given how casual it is. There's also been a lot of "oh we can just do this ourselves" and friends? My confidence is not high. Can't wait to have to step in and make things happen then get shit for being so uptight and Type A.

MIL is coming for Thanksgiving (actually more like a week so kill me now) and after considering various logistics (all of us crammed into our house vs a hotel, etc.) my mom and stepdad and LARRY! have declined to join, which I get. Hell, I don't want to be here. E has decided to be weird about this so that's fun.

As much as lack of additional funds sucks not working fucking rules. I already miss unemployment, but I'm trying to sort out a new routine (mostly for in-office days) and ugh why didn't I marry some rich idiot from high school so I could not work allllll the time?

[fandomtherapy44]

castiel x reader

Summary: This story is from the perspective of Y/n Winchester. The sister Of Sam and Dean. We will be starting from season four since sadly we did not get Misha Collins as Castiel throughout the whole series. It will start off as a friendship, but it will grow more as the series goes on. I will be skipping some episodes even though they are great episodes they do not push the story forward. I am so excited to get to write this since they are not many Castiel X reader stories out there. Okay without further due Love War & Grace enjoy the Story.

Paring: Castiel X Reader

Word count: 4,088

Warnings: Some language, Typical Supernatural violence, Spoilers for season four of Supernatural

I got the divider from

Firefly Graphics

Chapter 10: It’s A Terrible Life

POV: Y/n

My alarm goes off at 6:00 and I get up happily. I go to my kitchen and start to make my breakfast of eggs, bacon, and grapes. I turn on my favorite song. 

Oh!

Ohhhh, yeeeh

I used to think maybe you loved me now baby I'm sure

And I just can't wait till the day when you knock on my door

Now everytime I go for the mailbox, gotta hold myself down

'Cause I just can't wait till you write me you're coming around

I'm dancing around the kitchen and having so much that I don’t notice the time. “Crap I'm going to be late.”

I'm walking on sunshine, wooah

I'm walking on sunshine, woooah

I'm walking on sunshine, woooah

And don't it feel good!

I walk in the coffee shop to get my boss's order with a smile on my face. “Hey brain, how's it going?” ” It’s going good Y/n, the regular” “You know it!” I said back to him I got the coffee, and I went on my way to my job.

I enter the building quickly, being five minutes away from being late. I walk calmly over to Mr. Alder’s office and knock on his door. “Come in” I hear from the other side and enter the room. “Good morning Mr. Alder, here is your black coffee with two sugars and two creamers.” I said placing the coffee down. “Aww thanks sweetheart you're the best secretary in the world.” For some reason a small chill went up my spine when he called me sweetheart. “No problem, it is my job, do you need anything else?” “Nah all you need to do is sit there and be pretty I'll call you if I do though.” With that comment I walked back to my desk. 

It was lunchtime and I went to the break room to make a sandwich. My work bestie Lyndsey comes up to me. “Ugg, I swear if Mr. Carson makes me do his basic paperwork one more time, I might commit murder.” “Ha ha right.” “Oh, you have nothing to complain about, you have the top secretary spot in the company, and you've only been here for a month.” “I don’t know, all I have to do is just sit there. I get pretty bored to be honest.” “Oh, to be bored, I envy thee. Did you see Mr. Smith this morning so hot right?” She said, biting her lip. “Uh I don’t know.”

“Girl, are you blind whatever, did you have any more dreams about Mr. Businessman.” “You're just going to make fun of me.” “No, totally not.” I sighed looking into my coffee. “This time I was in a carpark, and I was hurt, and I hugged him, and he hugged back.” “Ohh did it go beyond hugging.” She said, raising her eyebrows up and down. “No no it’s nothing like that, it feels like a friendship.” “Ugg boring.” “You said you wouldn't make fun.” “I'm not, it's just my opinion.” Sometimes Lindsey could be a bitch that’s why she’s my work bestie.

I ran towards the elevator and yelled out for whoever was in there to hold it. “Thanks.” “No problem.” Mr. Smith and I think the other guy’s name was Sam. The three of us were just standing listening to the elevator music before Sam asked us a question. “Do I know you two?” Sam asked us. “Um I don’t think so, Sorry.” I responded. “I don't think so.” “I'm sorry, guys, you just look really familiar.” “Save it for the health club, pal.” With that Mr. Smith walked out of the elevator quickly. “Have a good night, Sam.” I told him. “You too?” “Y/n” “Right Y/n goodnight.” 

I got home and got ready for bed and thought about Sam’s question. He did kind of look familiar even though I hadn’t really met him before. Oh well with that I went off to sleep. 

  The next morning I woke up feeling groggy and my head was filled with my dreams from the night before and I think I saw Mr.Smith and I think Sam in them. Which is really weird because I barley known them and what we were doing was hunting monsters so like what the hell?! 

I walked down to Lynsey’s office because she was not in the break room for our daily coffee talk. When I go into her space, she is working hard which she never does. “Lyndsey? Lyn? Why don’t you take a break huh?” I go to touch her shoulder, but she does not take that well. “Don’t touch me Y/n! I don’t have time to sit around all day like you!” I was surprised because yeah, we weren't besties 24/7 but we wouldn't seriously insult each other. “Look Lyn I don’t know what’s wrong but whatever it is I can help you.” “No, you can’t! Just leave me alone. I have to work work…” She said drifting off not looking back at me.

I go to heat up my lunch, but the microwave is busted. “Oh, come on.” I went to the tech floor knowing that was the closest microwave to me. The elevator dings and I walk into a huge crowd of people around the break room, the reason being that a body was being rolled out. I look around and see Sam and Dean again. 

Now what the hell is happening. As I sit down, I get a call. “Hello, this Mr. Alders-” “This is Mr. Smith I need you in my office now.” He hangs up and I put the phone down. I walk to his office, and I walk in, and Sam is in here too. “Am I in trouble?” I said because so far this is weird. “No no you're not. Just sit down.” Mr. Smith gestured to the chair, and I did. “Ok so this is going sound weird, but do you believe in ghosts?” Mr. Smith asked, and I was expecting a smile after that, but one didn't come. “He he, I'm sorry ghosts, is there a camera somewhere?” “No, unfortunately not Y/n he’s being serious.” Sam said, looking at me.

“Ghosts? What the Hell are you talking about?” “Okay, listen. What if these suicides aren't suicides? I mean, what if they're something not natural?” “So, what, ghosts are real? And they're responsible for all the dead bodies around here? Is that what you're telling me?” “That’s what Sam and I have concluded, yeah.” “Based on what? Delusion.” I said not believing what I was hearing. “No, Instinct.” “Instinct I think I have the same one.” Now remembering the dreams. “Really?” They both said at the same time.

“Yeah, I've been having these dreams with you guys in it, and we were killing monsters also I saw a businessman.” “Businessman didn’t see him but yes to the ghosts and the monsters.” Sam said. “So, you're telling me that your guy's dreams are special visions and you're some kind of psychics’?” “No. I mean, that would be nuts. I'm just saying something weird is definitely going on around here, right? So, I've been digging around a little.”

“Yeah, I agree with him.” I backed Sam up. Sam pulled at some papers. “I think I found a connection between the two guys.” He explained. “You broke into their email accounts?” “Nice Sam” I compilated him. “Thanks Y/n, I used some skills that I happen to have to satisfy my curiosity.” “So, it turns out Ian and Paul both got this same email telling them to report to HR, room fourteen forty-four.” “HR's on seven.” “Exactly.” “Should we go check this out?” “Like right now?” “No. No, it's getting late. You're right.” “I am dying to check this out right now.” “Right?” “Me too” I added, and we went on our way to room fourteen four-four.

We walk closer to the room, and we hear a man screaming. Sam kicked the door in, and we rushed in, and the man was under a shelf. We go to try to lift it off as we do. I look behind an old man standing there, and he flings Dean back. He walked to Sam with a sparky hand, and I had the thought to grab a wrench and hit him and he disappeared with that. Dean walks over and we lift the shelf off the man. “How'd you know how to do that?” They asked me. “I have no idea.”

Dean’s apartment was thankfully close. “Holy crap, Guys.” Dean said, referring to what just happened to us. “Yeah. I could use a beer.” Sam said. “Yeah, put me down for one too.” “Oh, sorry, Guys. I'm on the Cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house.” “Hey. How the hell did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?” They ask me. “Crazy, right? And nice job kicking that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you, like a black belt or something?” “No. I have no clue how I did that. It's like...we've done this before.” “What do you mean, before? Like Shirley MacLaine before?” “No. I—I just can't shake this feeling like I—like I don't belong here. You know? Like I should do something more than sit in a cubicle.” “I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way.” 

“No. Well, look, it's more than that. Like, I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I don't know how else to explain it, except that...it feels like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood. Like I was destined for something different. What about you? You ever feel that way?” “I don't believe in destiny. I do believe in dealing with what's right in front of us, though.” “What about you Y/n.”Dean asked me. “I feel the same as I make my own future.” “All right, so, what do we do now?” Sam asked, which was a good question cause what the hell do you do in this situation? “We do what I do best, Sammy, N/n. Research.” “Okay. Did you just call me Sammy?” “And me N/n?” “Did I?” “I think you did. Yeah. Don't.” “Yeah, please don’t” “Sorry.” He goes to sit at his laptop.

“Oh, jackpot.” “What you got?” Sam and I walked over to Dean. “I just found the best site ever. Real, actual ghost hunters.” “Oh wow, cool!” I said sitting next to Dean. “These guys are genius. Check it out.” “Instructional videos.” Sam pointed out. Dean hits play “We know why you're watching.” These two guys were in lab coats in front of a table. “You've got a problem.” “A ghost problem.” “A ghost-related problem. A ghost—it's like a ghost-adjacent pr—it's like a problem that's—and the ghost is—” “Whatever. You've come to the right place. The only decent place, really, because the Ghostfacers know how to solve it.” “Period.” “Watch and learn.” “See, the first step in any supernatural fight:” “Figure out what you're up against.” Both of them said together. 

I went onto the computer and looked up the company’s history. There was a picture of an old man next to the article. “That's him. That's the ghost.” Dean pointed out over my shoulder. “P. T. Sandover. Died 1916. Devoted his life to his work. No wife, no kids.

The article text visible next to the picture reads "Office 1444 was considered to be the center of the company's operations, with Sandover himself overseeing all details of any construction project the company undertook. / Considered to be a difficult person to work for, P.T. Sandover had an exceptionally high standard of quality, often marching onto construction sites and halting all work until he personally inspected each aspect of the structure. Aiming for perfection is perhaps why the Sandover legacy is so impressive, dominating the industry with the scale and scope of its projects.” “Used to say he was the company, and his very blood pumped through the building.” Sam read. “Wow, okay. So slight workaholic. Maybe he's still here, you know, watching over the company, even killing for it.” Dean theorized.

“Plus, turns out this isn't the first time people started killing themselves in the building. 1929.” “Yeah, but lots of guys jumped off lots of high rises that year.” “How many companies had seventeen suicides?” I added in. “Phew. Okay, so P. T. Sandover, protector of the company. His ghost wakes up and becomes active during times of grave economic distress.” “Well, I mean, the worst time we've seen since the Great Depression—” “Is now. Yeah, now sucks. My portfolio's in the sewer. I don't even wanna talk about it.” “So Sandover's helping the bottom line—” “By zapping some model employees.” 

“Yeah. I mean, Ian and Paul. It was like he turned them into different people.” “Perfect worker bees, exactly. So devoted to the company that they would commit hara-kiri if they failed it.” “Oh my gosh Lyndsey was acting like that. Now we abustley have to do this.” “One more interesting fact. The building wasn't always that high. Used to be fourteen floors. And the room where the ghost attacked, fourteen forty-four? Once upon a time, that was the old man's office.” Of course it was.

We went back to the Ghostbusters videos. “Once you've got that thing in your sights—” “You kill it.” Good to know. “Using special ghost-hunting weapons.” “First, salt. It's like acid to ghosts.” “Burny acid.” “Not LSD.” “No. It's a bad trip for ghosts. Next up, iron.” “That's why the wrench worked.” I concluded. “Pure power in your hand.” “Dissipates ghosts instantly.” “Next little trick. We learned this from those useless douchebags—” “That we hate.” I wonder who pissed them off so much. “The Winchesters. Well, except for the sister who was nice to us, she was also hot.” “Yeah hot.” He looked off like he was thinking about this woman. “Uhh right back to the ghosts. Gun.” “Shotgun shell. Pack it up with fresh rock salt.” “Very effective.” “Very effective.” “Winchesters still suck ass, though. But the sister.” “Affirmative. Suckage major. But the sister.” 

We pack two duffels of iron pokers and salt. “Where do we even get a gun?” Dean questioned. “Gun store?” “Isn't there like some kind of waiting period or something?” “I think so.” “Well, how in the hell—” “I don't know. Seems pretty impossible, honestly.” “Right.” I mean who can just get guns on a whim.

Back to the video. “The aforementioned super-annoying Winchester douchenozzles but the sister also taught us this one other thing. You have to burn the remains.” “Okay, this next part gets a little gross. Sometimes you might have to dig up the body. Sorry.” Eww “It's illegal in some states.” “All states.” “Possibly all states.” I look up where our body is buried. “Sandover was cremated.” “What? So what do we do now?” “Now, if the deceased has been cremated—” “Don't panic.” “Don't panic.” “Just gotta look for some other remains.” “A hair in a locket, maybe. Fingernails. Baby teeth.” “Milk teeth.” “Genetic material. You know what we're talking about.” “Go find it.” “Godspeed.”

I am terrified to go back but Lynsey is under this ghost’s spell I guess, and she needs help so here I am back in this cursed building. We entered the elevator. “Set your cell phone to walkie-talkie in case we get separated.” Dean commented. We go to search in the old man’s office Sam, and I are searching the desk when we get found out by the security officer. “What the hell are you doing here?” He asks us.”Uhh, a new cleaning service.” I responded back trying to not get us arrested. “Yeah right. Come with me.” He grabs the both of us. “Man, listen. Look. It's okay. We- we work here.” Sam tried to explain. “Whatever. Tell it to the cops.” He drags us to the elevator.

We awkwardly stand there when there is a cold spot when the elevator absurdly stops. Sam and I look at each other knowing what was going on. The guard goes to use his emergency key to open the door. “Well, come on.” Something makes an ominous sound. Sam and I are thinking the same thing Hell to the no. “Last time this happened, it took them two hours to get here.”

“Let’s just wait here I think I might have some uno cards on me.” They both look at me like your crazy girl. The guard Shimes through the door and he turns around to us. “Seriously, we’ll wait.” “Look, I don't have the rest of my life.” As he was saying the doors slam shut oh his body. And we get sprayed in blood. “Hey. You guys, okay?” Dean asked through the phone. “We’ll call you back.” 

We regroup at the main lobby. “Whoa. That's a lot of blood.” “Yeah, we know” “Right. So, uh, in there.” Dean gestured to the display of P.T. gloves. “P. T. Sandover's gloves.” “Yeah, how much you wanna bet there's a little smidge of DNA in there? You know, like a fingernail clipping or a hair or two? Something.” “Sweat.” I added in. “So, you ready?” Sam asks us. “I have no idea.” “Me neither.” “Me too.” The boys hit the glass, but Mr. Old man shows up. All three of us hit him with the iron pickers. “Oh. Nice.” He reappears and he flings the boys back. “Dean! Sam!” P.T. is about spark them. I scramble to get the lighter. “Sorry I'm forcing you into retirement.” I said as I lit up the gloves. And he lights up like a Christmas tree and vanishes. "That was amazing.” “Right? Right?”

Dean hands me the first kit and I'm patching up Sam. “Wow you're really good at Y/n.” “Yeah, I don’t know, I've always been good at it, thanks.” “Man, I gotta tell you, I've never had so much fun in my life.” Dean said sitting next to us. “I feel the same and I thought the bachelor was the craziest thing in my life.” “Was a hell of a workout too, wasn't it?” “Yeah, you can say that again.” “We should keep doing this.” Sam says very seriously. “I know.” Dean replied in a joking way when I was thinking about his words. “I mean it. There gotta be other ghosts out there. We could help a lot of people.” Sam went on with this. “Right, we'd be like the Ghostfacers.”

“No, really. I mean, for real.” “What? Like, quit our jobs and hit the road?” “Exactly.” “How would we live?” “You gotta be kidding me. How would we get by? With stolen credit cards? Huh? Eating diner food drenched in saturated fats? Sharing a crap motel room every night?” “That's all just details. What about you Y/n?” Sam asked me. “Uhh I don’t know Sam, this is a good job for me.” “Do you even like your Job I mean all you do is get Mr. Alder coffee! All right. Um. Confession. Remember those dreams I told you about with the ghosts? I was fighting them. With you guys. We were these, like, hunters, and we were friends. More like brothers and sister, really. I mean, what if that's who we really are? I mean, you saw us back there, working together. The ghost was scrambling people's brains. What if it scrambled ours?”

“Sam, that's a little insane.” “Is it? Think about it for just one second. What if we think this is our life, but it's not?” “Hey, man, the ghost is dead and we're still standing. I mean, I'm sorry, but—” Dean started to say. “Look, all I know is this isn't who we're supposed to be.” Sam stood his ground. “No. I'm Dean Smith, okay? Director of Sales and Marketing. I went to Stanford. My father's name is Bob, my mother's name is Ellen, and my sister's name is Jo.” And when he said that it felt so wrong. “When was the last time you talked to them? To any of them? And you Y/n?” “I don’t really have any family to talk to.” “See that’s what I'm talking about, cause I only moved here cause I just broke up with my fiancée, Madison. But I called her number, and I got a damn animal hospital.” I try to hold my laugh back at that line.

“Okay. What are you saying? Are you trying to say that my family isn't real? Huh? That we've been injected with fake memories? Come on.” Dean was getting irritated at this point. “All I know is, I got this feeling in my gut. And I know—I know that deep down, you gotta be feeling it too. We're supposed to be something else. You're not just some corporate douchebag and you Y/n are not just some pretty secretary that gets coffee. This isn't you Guys. I know you.” Dean answered. “Know me? You don't know me, pal. You should go.” I leave with Sam and stop him. “Look Sam, the girl you're describing sounds incredible but that’s just not me.”

The next morning, I was walking to Mr. Alder’s office with his coffee, and I was thinking about what Sam said last night. “Knock knock Come in.” I heard and I entered. “Here’s… your coffee.” I set it down and went to leave but he stopped me. “Mrs. F/l/n I would like to talk about something, sit down please.” So, I do. “Look I think you're an amazing employee and simply put I want you higher on the food chain.” I was a little bit shocked.

“You want me in a company position? Wow I'm flattered but are you sure?” “Yes, I am so sure that this would be your pay raise.” He writes down a number and slides it to me. My eyes widen like saucers. “That’s a whole lot more than now to keep me here.” “Well, you are worth it now you would have to work for it properly more than others because you are starting from a low level but in like fifteen years maybe ten it you could be it.” I look down at the number and think about it. “Now Mr. Alder I really appreciate it and I am totally thankful, but I will be giving in my notice.” Now he looks shocked.

“Please tell me this is a joke Y/n.” “No Mr. Alder I just realized that sitting in a desk for the rest of my life and getting coffee from other people is not for me. It's hard to explain. Um. It's just that this—this is—it's just—it's not who I'm supposed to be.” Mr. Alder smiles at that. “Y/n, Y/n, Y/n you and your brother are a lot alike.” “My brother? What are you talking about?” He walks over to me and touches my forehead and it was like the air had shifted and everything came flooding back.

“What the fuck? Am I wearing heels god my feet hurt.” Mr. Alder laughs at that. “You- did I—did I just get touched by—you're an angel, aren't you?” He nods. “I'm Zachariah.” “Fantastic. You want me to throw you a parade.” “I'm hardly a simple angel, Y/N. I'm Castiel's superior. Believe me, I had no interest in popping down here into one of these smelly things” “But after the unfortunate situation with Uriel, I felt it necessary to pay a visit. Get my ducks in a row.” “” Unfortunate situation” he almost killed me.”

“Well, you're not so you should be grateful.” “What the hell does not that even mean?” “It means that you're alive and hunting” “Is that what this little passion project of yours is for?” “Exactly you are a Winchester, hunting is in your blood, and you will help your brother stop the apocalypse.” “I am not just a helper.” “Of course, not but you will always be by your brother’s side, right?” “Yes but-” “perfect then you be on your merry way to your codependent brothers.” I start to walk out but I stop. “Zachariah angel or not I will stab you in the face if you ever call me sweetheart again.” And with that I slam the door behind me.

Hey oh, my gosh we have gotten to chapter ten like wow I just wanted to say thank you for reading and liking when I started, I just did for me and I'm so happy that others have liked this as much as I have! Also did anyone peak the song that Y/n was playing in the beginning. It was a little easter egg for a future character that I am so excited to get to. That Animal hospital joke of Madison gets me every time the angels went off with that one. If you like the originals, I started a Klaus x reader so yeah hope I see you over there see you next time!

[kasienda]

Celebrity Status: Ch 8 - Two Truths and a Lie

Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 |

Read on Ao3

Chapter 8: Two Truths and a Lie

Adrien heard the tap on his window. A grin immediately bloomed across his face even before he turned to her. 

She liked him. She knew him in her regular life and she liked him. 

He let her in, still grinning like an idiot.

“You’re in a good mood,” she observed, smiling back at him. 

“You’re here. How could my day get any better?” Was it too much? Maybe, but he couldn’t give her more of an explanation.

Pink dusted her cheeks, and she glanced away. 

His heart jumped in his chest. Had he always been able to do that? Because she liked him! And he just hadn’t noticed, hadn’t realized he was the luckiest boy in all of Paris?

“How can I be of service?” he asked, his smile still in full force. He needed to find some chill before she assumed he was happy that she was having problems.  

She bit her lip. “I umm… I need your help.” 

He nodded. “With the reaction to the video?” 

“Yeah. I need to fix this. I know you’re out of your depth, but will you help me anyway?” 

“Always m’L-Ladybug! Always!”

She smiled softly. “I don’t know how I ever earned your friendship. Thank you.”

“I actually already have some ideas,” he told her, leading her to his desk already set out with two chairs. “I think the biggest issue is that you keep getting taken out of context. First, never say anything to the reporters at the tail end of a battle or when you’re out and about. And if a candid video looks bad, still don’t offer comment to anyone you don’t know and trust.” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I suppose that makes sense. But how do I fix the damage already done?”

He grinned. “We need to humanize you again. We need to get you in front of a camera with an award winning journalist for a friendly interview where you’re not gonna get cut off.” 

Ladybug frowned. “Award winning journalist? Like who?” 

Adrien grinned. “One of your biggest fans, Alya Césaire.” 

…

Alya was vibrating in her seat as hard as Marinette did whenever Adrien offered her so much as a smile. Marinette had never seen her so giddy or excited. 

“Can you believe it?! Marinette! I’m getting an award this weekend from Ladybug herself!”

“Technically, the award is from the city,” Marinette corrected, grinning at her best friend.

Alya laughed. “Who cares! Ladybug is going to hand it to me! She’s going to be there specifically to honor me! How crazy is that?!”

Marinette shook her head. “Not crazy at all! You totally deserve all the recognition! I’m sure Ladybug agrees with me.” 

“So here’s your ticket,” Alya said, sliding over an envelope. 

Marinette’s smile fell off her face. “What? You’re not bringing Nino?” 

“Of course not! You believed in me before anyone! Plus, Nino would be super bored.” 

“He would not! He’s your boyfriend! It’s his job to support you in all your amazing awesomeness and success!” And Nino wanted to go into film. He was going to have to get good at going to awards dinners. 

Alya frowned. “Do you not want to come?” 

Marinette’s stomach churned. “It’s not that. Of course I want to come!” She was already coming! “I just can’t.” Her gaze fell to the floor, unable to meet Alya’s disappointment. “I’m uh… grounded.” 

“What?! Surely, your parents would make an exception for this? For me?” 

Marinette shook her head, still staring at her pink flats. “I don’t think so… they were really pissed.” 

She risked a glance up, and regretted it immediately. Alya’s expression now looked like the sun would never shine again. 

Marinette blinked back the sudden burn behind her eyes. She couldn’t cry. She wouldn’t.

“But even if I’m not there, you’re getting the most amazing award that you absolutely deserve! I couldn’t not be more proud of you!” Marinette pulled Alya into a hug to hide her own tears. 

“It won’t be the same without you there,” Alya whispered.  

…

Ladybug stood on the stage, trying not to bounce on her toes in her excitement, when the emcee called Alya’s name up to be recognized. 

Alya stood from her table and made her way up the stairs on the side of the stage. 

But something was wrong. Alya was smiling, but it felt professional rather than the gleeful excitement Marinette had observed just the day before. 

Ladybug offered the award, framed in a dark wood with a beaming smile. She shook Alya’s hands maybe a little harder than was strictly necessary, but this was Alya! Her best friend who was being recognized as a professional when she was still a minor. It was a huge deal.

Alya should be over the moon. 

Marinette wanted her to be over the moon!

“Congratulations, Alya! I was so excited the moment I heard they wanted to honor you.”

Alya's smile stretched wider for a second. “Thank you, Ladybug.”

“Is something wrong?” Ladybug asked, glancing towards Alya’s table. The seat beside hers was empty. Nino hadn’t come. 

“My best friend isn’t here,” Alya admitted, under the cover of the audience’s applause. “I thought she would have moved mountains to be here. She’s apparently grounded, but she’s also so terrifyingly good at breaking out of and into all sorts of places, I thought she might still make it.”

Marinette’s throat felt tight. “I’m sure she’d be here if she could,” she managed.  

Alya smiled again, but it still didn’t reach her eyes. “Thank you for saying that, Ladybug. It does mean a lot to me to receive this award and that you were the one to deliver it makes it mean more. Thank you.”

Marinette smiled for all she was worth. “You’re welcome! You definitely deserve it!” 

And then Alya stepped away, back towards her table, her shoulders slumped as she slipped back into her seat.

Marinette wilted. She had chosen wrong. She should have come as Marinette instead of Ladybug.

…

Marinette showed up to school the next day half an hour early with a box of macarons tight in her grip. 

Alya didn’t so much as smile at her when she arrived. Instead, Alya walked right past her. Marinette slipped beside her anyway. 

“How was it?” she asked, smiling.  

Alya didn’t look at her. “It was fine.”

It was so clearly not fine. 

“Look, I’m sorry!” Marinette whispered. “I couldn’t go. My parents—“

“I talked to Sabine,” Alya cut in, finally turning to stare directly at her. 

Marinette froze. 

“She thought you were coming to the event. Apparently you’ve been squealing about it for days . She told me you were proud of me and shared that she was, too.” 

Marinette’s mouth hung open, desperately searching for something, anything to say. 

“I-I was on my way—“ Marinette started. “I panicked.”

Alya turned away in disgust. “You bailed the day before! Said you were grounded! But you weren’t! I don’t get it! If what she said was true, then you were genuinely excited and happy for me, but you still didn’t come when you clearly could have! What else was so important that—“ Alya cut off,  her honey-brown eyes flooding with tears. 

“Alya,” Marinette said softly, reaching for Alya’s hand. “I’m sorry.” 

It wasn’t anywhere near enough. Marientte knew it, but she couldn’t say anything else.

Alya dodged just out of her reach, wiping away her own tears. “I didn’t tell her by the way.” 

Marinette’s eyebrows scrunched together. “Tell who?” 

“Your maman. I didn’t tell her that you weren’t there, but that’s the last time. I’m not covering for you anymore,” Alya told her coldly.

Marinette didn’t even care about that. She just wanted Alya to forgive her. She grabbed Alya’s shoulder.

“Alya, please!” she begged, crying. “How can I fix this?” 

“You could tell me what the hell is going on!” 

Marinette pressed her lips closed. She couldn’t do that either. 

“Good to know what our friendship means to you,” Alya bit out.

She shrugged Marinette’s hand off her shoulder and walked away.  

Marinette didn’t even try to fight her tears. 

… 

Adrien trudged up the stairs to his room after school. It had been a long day. Alya had been upset, which meant Nino was too. Marinette had never shown up at all. Adrien hoped she was okay. And then, Ms. Mendeleiev had been in a foul mood and surprised them all with a pop quiz. At least in spite of whatever was going on, Alya was still willing to gush about Ladybug with him during lunch, and she was enthusiastic about a possible interview. He couldn’t wait to tell Ladybug. 

If only he knew when the next time she would visit. 

He pushed open his bedroom door and immediately dropped his bag. 

She was already there, sitting on the floor against his bed with her knees to her chest. 

“Ladybug? Are you okay?” he asked. 

She burst into tears at the question.

He moved to her side faster than he would have for an akuma alert. 

Akuma’s didn’t make Ladybug cry. Not usually.

“What happened?” he asked.

“My best friend! She hates me!” 

“No one could hate you,” he insisted. 

“But she does. She’s so angry, she won’t talk to me at all. I tried to apologize, but I couldn’t explain,” she explained rapidly through her tears. 

“What happened?” he asked again, softly.

She swallowed and took a breath. Adrien rubbed the back of her neck the whole time. 

“I couldn’t go to something with her because I had to be somewhere else as Ladybug. But I couldn’t explain that. She knows I’m lying, but she doesn’t know why. And this thing was really important to her. I think I chose wrong. I should have gone with her instead of the Ladybug thing, but I didn’t. I thought it was more important to be somewhere as Ladybug. And now she’s never going to forgive me unless I explain, and I can’t explain.” 

Adrien squeezed her shoulder. “This might sound crazy, but have you ever thought about telling her?”

“Only a thousand times!” Her hands shot out to the side as she spoke. “But I can’t! I can’t put her whole life in danger just so I can keep her friendship!”

At least she was consistent with both her best friend and her superhero partner. 

“Maybe she’d think it was worth it,” he whispered. He always had thought that. 

“Maybe. But is it fair for me to make that decision for her?” 

“Does anyone know?” he asked, but he already knew.

She shook her head. "Chat wants us to share our identities. And sometimes I think he's right."

"You do?"

This was news to him.

She nodded, her arms wrapping around her knees. Her head rested on them, turned to him. "I think it would be easier in some ways. We could cover for one another, contact each other out of the suits, predict more accurately when one of us is likely to be late or not show up at all. And we could confide in each other more than we already do."

"So, why don't you then?"

"There's the obvious answer of the less people that know the easier it is to keep a secret. And that's still true. If we don't know we literally cannot give each other up. But honestly? I think I'd slip up. Like, if he gets hit, I might just scream his name. I have to make some hard decisions. And I already care about him so much. I think knowing who he is would make us closer. And I would be even more distracted, and unable to put him in danger even when I need to."

"You don't think you'd get used to it?"

She shrugged. "Probably eventually, but even a single mistake from either of us is potentially lethal. Seems safer not to risk it."

He was so surprised. He had always assumed that she didn't want to reveal identities because she didn't trust him or was trying to keep him at an arm's length. But really, it was just because she was trying to protect him.

She turned away, her chin still on her arms as she stared out the window. "He thinks he's in love with me,” she whispered.

"You don't think he is?" Because he definitely was and all these quiet times spent with her in his room had only solidified that fact for him. 

She shrugged. "He doesn't know me totally. He might be disappointed when he sees how much of a mess I am."

"Maybe he's a total mess too."

She laughed. "He seems so happy and confident, like, all of the time."

"So do you."

She scoffed. “Certainly, you know that’s not true by now.”

“I just meant—“

She laughed, leaning into his space. “You know, I think you might know me better than him now.” 

He swallowed. She was so close. “Yeah?” he breathed. 

“Yeah,” she whispered the word right against his lips. And then her lips were on his.

She tasted of slightly of salt. She had been crying, he distantly recalled. 

He kissed her harder. 

Because maybe, just maybe because he was the luckiest boy in all of Paris, maybe the whole world, he could do something to turn her day around, to make her feel better. 

Because he was never going to forget this day or this moment. 

And he didn’t want her to forget it either. 

… 

"What do you hate most about having a double life?" Alya asked.

Ladybug folded her hands on her knee and forced herself to look right at Alya who was sitting beside the camera they had set up in her room. 

"In order for Ladybug to be reliable, my civilian self has had to become the opposite. My friends get mad at me for disappearing or flaking altogether with the lamest excuses. My best friend especially often suspects I'm not being honest. My parents are constantly disappointed with the number of truancies I've managed to rack up. I've been questioned about doing drugs, having sex, joining a gang, and the list goes on.”

Alya frowned sympathetically. “That sounds hard.” 

“Sometimes I wish I could tell them, but doing that would put all of them in danger, and I’m just not willing to trade their well-being for thinking well of me.” 

“Wow. They’re lucky to have you even if they don’t know it.”

Ladybug smiled. “That means so much coming from you. Thank you.” 

“Does this mean there’s no love interests for Ladybug either?” 

Ladybug felt the heat burn in each cheek.

“Oooh! Is there someone?” 

Ladybug tapped her own lip. “Well, this lady never kisses and tells.”

“Ah! Ladybug, you’re killing me and all your supporters, too!” 

She laughed. It almost felt like they were just hanging out. Like, everything was fixed between them. 

She wished she could tell Alya that she had finally kissed Adrien, but she had kissed him as Ladybug, not as Marinette. And Alya wasn’t talking to Marinette, but she thought Alya would be proud of her for making the first move, and she hoped that with time, Alya would forgive her for her latest lie.

But Alya was also right that there probably shouldn't be any love interests for Ladybug. She was putting him in danger too.

It wasn't fair.

...

[ae-neon]

So, to counteract the brain rot I'm experiencing from cc1, I picked a book off my shelf I haven't read

The Wall by William Sutcliffe is a story set in the fictional town of Amarias, Occupied Palestine about a settler boy who crosses the Wall that separates his town from the forbidden territory of the enemy

From what I can tell William Sutcliffe is a British YA author so by no means am I suggesting The Wall as primary or secondary reading for learning about Palestine or supporting Palestinian artists. I have this book because I bought it years ago (it was published in 2013)

My thoughts so far on Part One (pg 1 - 62)

For Context Joshua sneaks into a "disputed" area to retrieve his football and finds the entrance to a tunnel that goes under the high wall that separates his brand new town from "the enemy"

(to clarify Joshua is an Israeli boy who lives in a settlement in the West Bank, not technically "Israel" but rather Occupied Palestine - the whole thing is but I hope you get what I mean)

The narration style took a little for me to get into since I think it does a good job of feeling like Joshua's 13 year old POV at times then slips into being clearly the adult voice of the author at others

I like that Sutcliffe doesn't pretend at Joshua's total ignorance to paint him as innocent, Joshua because of the nature of settler life is aware of some things but can't quite understand the full scope

[When describing the "disputed" area and the demolished house he finds there]

It's a feeling I can't quite understand, something to do with the obvious suddenness with which this place was transformed from a home into a heap of junk. An eerie chill seems to be rising up from the rubble. It's as if an aftertaste of violence is hanging in the air, like a bad smell.

...

Even from up here, I can see that the possessions spilling out of the house never belonged to people like us. This was the home of people from the other side. The mystery isn't what happened to them, it's how they found themselves on the wrong side of The Wall in the first place, and why the site hasn't been cleared and built on.

The contradictions don't jump out at him but he is subconsciously aware of them

The Wall was put up to stop the people who live on the other side setting off bombs, and everyone says it has done an excellent job.

Most people who work on the building sites in Amarias are from the other side, and if you drive to the city you see lots of people who look like they come from those towns, but other than that, even though they're living next door, it feels like they aren't really there.

Actually, that's not right. You know they're there because The Wall and the checkpoints and the soldiers who are all over the place are a constant reminder, but it's as if they're almost invisible.

After crossing and being chased by a group of older boys then saved by a girl who can speak Hebrew

I'm not, in truth, very far away at all. Probably only a few hundred metres. But I'm in another world.

...

It all feels strangely normal yet exotic, and odd to think this place has always been here, so busy and so alive; so close but invisible.

The girl borrows him her father's keffiyeh and her brother's flip-flops so he can walk back to the tunnel without being spotted as a settler

The scarf lent by the girl who saved me, and even though she asked for the simplest thing in return, I gave her nothing. Worse than that, I now see that I have stolen from her[...]

Joshua manages to get home to the house he shares with his mother and religious fundamentalist stepfather. (many settler groups are often part of stricter religious sects and a clear distinction is made by Joshua between his Dad who was a mostly secular reservist killed in action and his step-father who is a staunch settler and much more religious)

When Joshua asks Liev, his step father, about the forbidden territory, Liev tells him it is disputed but when Joshua asks by who Liev says 'No one.'

Then the same night he returns from the other side Joshua takes out a miniature town he built. His actions mirroring the actions of colonial settlers, he subconsciously understands there's no real fear or righteousness - the 'war' and it's propaganda are manufactured - the truth is much more methodical

I stand over the fantasy town, gazing down at it. Along one edge is a wall, the same height as the tallest house. [...] I remember the afternoon I added in the wall, years ago, taking up hours getting it to the right height and making it solid. There's even a watchtower in one corner, made from the inner tube of a toilet roll topped with a yoghurt pot which is usually filled with soldiers. Now for the first time it strikes me as strange that I put this wall at the edge, with nothing on the other side of it.

[...]

...I don't feel angry or destructive as I'm doing it, but slowly and deliberately, I lift a leg and step onto a cardboard house at the heart of the town. One by one, I calmly crush all the others that are made of cardboard. Two are made of balsa wood. Those I pluck from where they are glued into place, and squeeze in my hands until they shatter. [...] Then dismantle the Lego houses, brick by brick. There's also a police station.[...]Then there's the school and the park and the shops...

Interesting so far.

*

On a less humorous not than how I started, I have seen sjm out and about being celebrated by crowds of dozens of people for the launch of cc3 and beyond my own disappointment at fairly predictable spoilers I've seen, it bothers me that at a time like this when so many are aware of the Occupation and SJM's own Zionist leanings, she can still be celebrated by so many people (many of them being poc)

Idk, it just bothered me so I picked The Wall off my shelf to especially counteract the underlying pro-Zio vibes in cc