#oh fuck should i do local news. should i become a guy that consumes local news in my area.

[bbeelzemon]

im pretty sure im subconsciously procrastinating Something by doing this but ANYWAY i set up an rss feed for myself ! what should i follow with it

[harrysgoldenbum]

Want You Pt. 1

--Harry is June’s ex. June is Y/N’s best friend. Months after the break up the two meet again, and there is an attraction Y/N is just not ready to address.-- 

I want to thank @for-fucks-sake-h​ @andwhenshesays and @oh-honey-styles​ for letting me participate in this challenge. As a new writer its a bit intimidating but I hope y’all enjoy :)

warning: mentions of smut, but nothing too juice... yet. 

Y/N couldn’t believe it. 

Of all the damn colleges in the country, he had to attend the same one as her. And out of all the parties that were happening tonight, he had to be at the same one she was. 

She turned away from the vibrant green eyes of Harry Styles and wished the ground would swallow him whole. She was looking forward to getting wasted tonight. She had a tough week with four exams, her mother once again pushing her buttons and something went wrong in the system and Y/N couldn’t sign up for the classes she needs next quarter. Now she is a fourth-year student and is going to fall behind on her major. Y/N was over all of it. Seeing Harry was just icing on top. He was her best friend June’s ex-boyfriend. 

And a complete douchebag. 

He’s also really fucking attractive. 

Hoping the dancing bodies and the loud music would distract him and not having him come her way, Y/N grabs her roommate’s hand and starts to walk farther into the room. Y/N doesn’t know how Carrie convinced her to go to a party on a Thursday, and yet here she is. When they enter the next room, Y/N tells Carrie who she saw.  

“Is he here?” Carrie asks over the music. 

With a nod of her head, “I thought I saw the last of him last year! June had said that he was planning to transfer out. I guess he didn’t.”

With a shrug, Carrie gulped her beverage from the red solo cup. 

“I should tell that jerk what I think of him.” Y/N seethes taking in her surroundings to see if he is anywhere near her. 

“You could say whatever the hell you want, but it won’t bother him. Especially when he practically has an endless supply of pussy.” 

Immediately, Y/N pictured Harry between her legs. His green eyes look up at her, while his tongue fucks her pussy. She has to clench her thighs and take a deep breath. She pushes the guilt away from her mind and tells herself that she’s too drunk and was thinking unclearly. But fuck, he is hot. But no matter how attractive he is, he is still an asshat. 

“There are so many stories about that boy’s dick,” Carrie states over her cup, dreamily. 

Y/N looks over at her friend in shock, “What?! That was before they broke up! All I had to do was wait until June was wasted and she couldn’t stop talking about how good he gave it.” 

The two friends move to a quiet corner, Carrie looking for a possible partner for the night. It takes about five minutes, then Carrie is leaving Y/N for the guy that was undressing her with his eyes across the room. Two minutes later, she’s taking his hand and disappears somewhere in the house. 

With a heavy sigh, Y/N pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through her socials. It doesn't take Harry even two minutes to slide right up to her. She tries to ignore him and continues to look at the pictures of people. But she can feel his eyes on her. She feels his eyes travel up and down her body until they rest on her face. 

She finally snaps. “What do you want?” she all but snarls.

With a slight laugh, he leans his forearm onto the wall she’s leaning against. “Well, I want to talk to you.”

“Talk to me? Why would you want to talk to me?” Y/N asks, “we aren’t friends, not even close! Especially not after what you did to June!” 

Harry flinched.Y/N sees the look of pain and hurt flash across his face. But seconds later the emotion is wiped clean and is replaced with that flippant, self-assured, asshole persona that fits him so well. 

“Well, we can become friends, can’t we love?” There is a dangerous gleam in his eye that had the hair on the back of her neck rising. “We can get to know each other.” 

Something about the way he says that makes Y/N shiver with anticipation. The fire in his eyes’s putting her on edge. Looking into his forest green eyes, a shiver starts from the base of her spine and travels up and around her body. She can feel her nipples tighten. And prays to god that her padded bra keeps them hidden. 

Y/N was a year younger than him, and when June and Harry had broken up, she had finally moved to the college town just a couple of months before. So she wasn’t lying when it came to friendship Harry Styles. He might have dated her best friend for almost six months, but she only met him a handful of times. And that was after she finally gave up on commuting to school and found a small, cheap studio apartment for herself. Thanks to all the scholarships and grants she had received, she didn’t have to worry about a roommate. And working as a waitress at a local diner helps with her other expenses. The weeks later, June and Harry were no longer together. Y/N always assumed it was a messy break up because it led to June transferring to a different college on the other side of the country. 

“Why would I want to be friends with you?” she asks. “You cheated on my best friend.” 

He clenches his jaw and avoids her eyes. He looks like he’s in an argument with himself. But once again when he turns to her he’s showing her his easy-going smile, the smile that had so many girls swooning because of his dimples. Harry’s eyes travel up and down her form and he doesn’t even try to hide his appraisal. 

“You look really good tonight, Y/N. Really good,” he laughs, covering his face to hid his blush. “Fuck, I saw you from across the room, you dress make your legs… damn… your legs look like they go on forever.” 

Y/N hates herself for blushing. She hopes the darkness that consumes the house helps her hide her heated cheeks. She’s torn. One part of her is eating up the compliments from the attractive guy that’s feeding them to her, leaving her hot and horny. And another part of her fighting the attraction and reminding her of her loyalty to her best friend. 

She does the one thing she can, she crosses her arms and looks away.

Taking his snapback off his head, Harry runs his hands through his hair and puts it back. “Look… is it because of the way things ended with June the only reason that is keeping you from letting me get to know you better?” 

Turning back toward him, Y/N sees a slight frown on his face, causing creases on his forehead. 

“What do you mean only thing? How can you come to me and act like you cheating on a girl, who you were in a serious relationship with, who was so in love with you, not a big deal?!” 

“I never said that,” he replies calmly. “I asked if that was the only thing keeping you from maybe not hating my juts.”

Looking up at him in confusion, Y/N can’t help but question what he was asking her. 

The desire to put him in his place overcomes her. “I don’t like you in general,” Y/N starts. “Cheating is one obvious reason, but you are arrogant and annoying. You are used to getting your way, especially when it comes to the number of girls you’ve been with. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Throwing his head back, a deep laugh escapes from Harry. He looks absolutely gorgeous. His laugh seemed to come from deep in his belly, his smile pops out his dimples and lights up his face. He looks down at Y/N with amusement twinkling in his eyes. 

“Seems to me someone is uncomfortable with their sexuality.” 

Y/N’s jaw drops. “What?! No! That’s not true! You’re - Just because I’m… I’m not attracted to you!” she stutters. Her cheeks heat up at the bald-faced lie she tells him. 

“It’s alright love, I have that effect on a lot of women,” he responds with a smirk.

With a scowl on her face, Y/N looks at him with disgust. “Good for you! Why don’t you try putting your moves on one of them?” she gestures to the number of college girls that are at the party. Most of them are giving them side-eyes, clearly wondering why Harry would be giving Y/N his company. “Because I’m definitely not interested.” Looking him dead in the eyes. “Especially not a guy that would cheat on a woman. Whether she is my best friend or not. It highlights your character and its a trait that I am not attracted to.”

Harry’s cocky smile falls off his face. “I didn’t cheat on June.”

His face goes sober, catching Y/N off guard. She takes a moment to study him, looking for any hint of a lie. She doesn’t find one. 

She tries to say something, but he beats her to it. 

“You don’t have to believe me. I highly doubt that you will, but the chance that you do - the chance that you know, might not… hate me anymore…I figured that you should know. I never cheated on June.” 

“And I am supposed to just… believe you?” Y/N asks, throwing her hands up in the air. 

“You can do what you want Y/N,” he laughs, “I’m just trying to tell you my side of the story. Do you want to know what happened? I told her that there was someone else and she just assumed. I just never made the effort to correct her. That’s what ended us. I encourage you to ask her.” 

He stands straight and starts to walk away. Harry had taken two steps before he came back to her. He wraps an arm around her waist and puts his other arm against the wall behind her. “Maybe knowing that I’m not the asshole you think I am will make it easier on you to accept that you want me just as bad as I want you.” He says to her. Harry brushes a couple to strands of hair out of her face and soft kiss her cheek before turning around and leaving her alone for the rest of the night.

~~~~~~~~

The next day, Y/N decides to do some investigating. 

Y/N and June tried to keep in contact with each other since she transferred. They would text each other a couple of times a week and try their hand at calling each other at least once a week. But it has been a couple of months since the last time they called each other. 

So, that morning, Y/N sends June a text telling her that she ran into her asshole of an ex last night and informed her that she put him in his place. But, she also tried to dig for more information. Y/N had never gotten the whole story from June, Y/N knew that she was planning to transfer schools after her second year and Harry had said that he would join her too. But by the time June was getting ready to leave, they had broken up. And Y/N being the supportive and helpful friend she is, Y/N helped June not only pack and eat endless pints of ice cream and drank more than their fair share of wine. And plenty of chick-flicks to make her feel better. 

When Y/N got a response from her, to say she was confused was putting it lightly. 

Okay, so I may have overreacted and made him look worse then what was actually going down. I appreciate your loyalty as always! Haha, I was just super into him and things are going good. But then out of now where he tells me that there is someone else. I guess I never did find out if he slept with her or not but I didn’t give him the chance to explain himself. Whatever, I’m over it. He texted me a couple of weeks ago apologizing again. I don’t plan on becoming his friend, but I don’t hate him anymore. Talk to you soon Y/N. xoxo.

After rereading what was sent to her, Y/N started to think that maybe Harry Styles is as bad as she thinks. And that just maybe, he is telling the truth. 

She pushed the thought from her mind and started to work on her fourth-year thesis.

It isn’t until late at night when she thinks of him again. So maybe he didn’t cheat on June, but that doesn’t mean she can stand the guy. He makes her uncomfortable. And Y/N is pretty sure that he is just looking for a quick fuck, which she isn’t entirely against. But when the guy is an arrogant son of a bitch, Y/N does her best to avoid them. 

~~~~~~~~

Sunday morning, Y/N does her best to be productive. Looking around her apartment to see what chore she should start with, she picks up her hamper and the dirty clothes thrown on the floor and goes downstairs to start her laundry. She’s wearing her only clean clothes, a pair of boy shorts that she usually wears to bed (because they barely cover her ass) and a stretchy tank top without a bra. She gets to the laundry room and starts to separate her dirty clothes. 

“If this isn’t the best thing I’ve seen all day!” 

Y/N freezes at the sound of the voice that rings through the room. She’s bent over the washer stuffing her clothes, realizing that she is probably exposing more than half her ass. She stands straight and looks over her shoulder, and sure enough. It’s Harry freaking Styles. He seems to be holding a bag of laundry over his shoulder. He’s wearing athletic shorts and a plain white tee. His cocky smirk irritates Y/N further. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

“I thought this room was for the whole building,” he starts walking to the empty washer next to her and starts loading his clothes. “I was told that anyone who lives here can use it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen and her jaw drops. She tries to convince herself that her heart is racing because she is just irritated. “You’re fucking joking right?” 

“Nope,” Harry says, popping the p. “We are neighbors” his dimples peek out as he grins. “I’m 2C. Where are you?” He adds detergent to his machine and starts the wash cycle. 

“3C” she replies, watching him carefully, “are you stalking me now?”

He breaks into a deep laugh. Going as far as clutching his flat stomach. “I can assure you, it is 100% a pure coincidence, love.” 

With a sigh of frustration, Y/N closes her washer's lid and starts her wash cycle. She glances at him and sees him leaning against the machine and checking her out. His jade color eyes move slowly over her body and Y/N finds it difficult to breathe. Her nipples grow hard. Realizing she isn’t wearing a bra, she crosses her arms across her chest. 

Suddenly, he eagerly asks her if she talked to June and if she backed him up.

“I did, congrats, I guess your character isn't all that bad. But I still can’t stand you.”

Harry moves his hand to cover his heart. “You wound me, love. You know I’m not a two-timing type of guy, can’t you ease up on me a little?”

“No” Y/N scowls. She enjoys him begging for her attention. She feels as if it's the first time he is working for something in his life. 

“Playing hard to get then?” he teases. His green eyes light up with amusement. 

“Or maybe not all women want you like that” Y/N scoffs. 

That arrogant smirk reappearing, Harry leans toward her. “That hasn’t happened yet.” 

Resisting the urge to scream, Y/N rolls her eyes and turns to collect her stuff. Just as she is about to comment, hoping to get the last word, two girls walk into the laundry room. They both stop when they see Harry. Blatantly check him out, and clearly liking what they see. 

“Hi, I’m Amelia and this is my roommate Alexis. Did you just move in?” she asks, twirling her hair around her finger. 

Harry steps in front of Y/N and shakes their hands. Y/N clenches her jaw and tries to convince herself that she’s annoyed because she can’t stand Harry, not because of the two other girls hitting on him. 

Suddenly, Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable leaving the laundry room, so she tries to prolong her stay by making it look like she is doing something while the others make small talk. 

Y/N’s ears perk when she hears Amelia offer Harry a tour of the building and the neighborhood. But Y/N knows what type of tour Amelia really wants to give Harry. A strong arm wraps itself around her waist and pulls her closer to Harry’s body. His thumb rubs circles on her hip bone that was exposed from her tank top rising. 

“That’s very sweet of you, but Y/N just offered to do that, right?” he’s only looking at her. Heat races throughout her body and tingles travel down her spine. 

Looking up at him with wide eyes. She finds it fascinating that one person who she finds attractive can be just as infuriating. “Right,” she confirms with a fake smile. 

She would rather play along rather than letting these skanks sink their claws into Harry and spread whatever diseases they carry. Harry holds on to her while the two girls get their now dry clothes and leave the room. Y/N wiggles out of Harry’s grip and goes to grab her hamper and phone. But Harry beats her to it. 

“What are you doing?!” Y/N shrills. She suppresses the urge to stomp her foot like a three-year-old throwing a tantrum. 

He messes around on her phone for a minute before giving it back to her. “There. I gave you my number and texted myself, so I have your number. We are going to start working on ‘not hating my guts’ thing, yeah?” he tells her with a smile. 

Whirling around Y/N stomps out of the laundry room. Looking over her shoulder, “Don’t bet on it,” she shouts over her shoulder. 

~~~~~~~~

It's later in the evening when someone knocks on Y/N’s door. She just finished cooking herself dinner and had Netflix queued. When she answers it, a shirtless Harry Styles is standing in the hallway. His tattoos stand out against his tanned skin. Y/N’s mouth waters. His body is built and his muscles are defined in all the right places. His abs are just tight enough to stand out without him trying too hard. He’s holding a tupperware box in his hand. Y/N feels heat leak between her legs. 

She quickly drags her eyes up to look at him. “What do you want?” she snaps, hoping once again that he can’t see her hard nipples. Irritation streams through her body. Her body acting as a traitor even though her brain knows that she doesn’t want anything to do with him. 

“I thought what better way to convince you that I’m not an asshole,” he starts, “than by baking you chocolate chip cookies… and brownies.”

“Huh?”

“I wasn’t sure what you liked and wanted to give you something you might like. I use to work at my gran’s bakery and she taught me how to bake really well.”

Taking the box from him Y/N is flabbergasted. Once again she sees a side to Harry she didn’t think he had. And it's thrown her out of the loop. “Well, um… thanks.” she stands there awkwardly, unsure what else to say. 

Harry’s forest-green eyes are looking at her. His eyes darken and he takes a step toward Y/N. “One more thing.” He wraps his arms around her waist and dips his head. He sucks on the skin just below her ear. “I can fuck pretty well too,” he whispers. His lips lingering at the shell of her ear. 

Before Y/N can say a word, Harry turns around and walks away. 

In a daze, Y/N shuts the door and moves to her couch and collapses. Only two words enter her mind. ‘Well, fuck.’

Part 2 Here

My Work

[yeselbeethings]

konoha’s sublime green beast

10 relationship headcanons for Might Guy

pairing: might guy x reader

a/n: similar vibe to the last relationship headcanons - any suggestions for who to do next would be appreciated. 

synopsis: a few tender moments, scenes from your relationship with Guy

warnings: nsfw content for the last few: general sex, fingering, oral.. the standard

The first time you meet Might Guy, you are stunned to silence. He sits with you and the other jōnin at the local bar and shares stories and you are completely hooked. Everything about him entrances you; his vibrancy, the way he speaks, the jumpsuit, the body, the size of his hands... he's so bright and youthful? Anko is the first to spot you staring, and when she drags you to help her at the bar with drinks, she says "oh yeah, Guy is a bit weird, we should have warned you", and in your tipsy state you remember replying "I dunno, he seems kind of cool?" You spend the rest of the night trying to catch his eye and striking up conversations. A few weeks later, he asks you on your first date, and your shoulders shake with laughter when you accept and he cheers something about youth.

Guy goes through his signature jumpsuits at an alarming pace. Sometimes they rip straight through the middle of the crotch, other times they wear through at the thighs, more often than not they simply succumb to the general wear and tear of being a ninja. You take lurid green jumpsuits that develop rips on the arms from being snagged on trees, and thus are no use to Guy anymore, and repurpose them. You cut the top section off and cut the leg just above the knees and wear them around the house with oversized t-shirts and sweatshirts. The upcycled shorts become part of your casual day off outfit, and you take to wearing them when you need to run errands around the village. It’s only right to carry on the Might family tradition in your own way.

Guy loves poetry, so much so it has seeped into his general way of speaking - most people just think it’s his odd turn of phrase, but you know it’s from years and years of devouring any poetry he can get his hands on - especially after Duy’s death. Your tiny shared apartment is filled with poetry books, from every village and spanning centuries. Guy needs reading glasses and has done since his teen years - he can read mission scrolls etc. with little trouble but if he needs or wants to read for more than a few minutes he takes out the gold-rimmed round glasses that live in a basket full of odd bits and pieces that don’t have a true home in the apartment and slips them on. He pushes his hair from his forehead slightly and lies down on the floor to settle into the latest thing he’s picked to read. He keeps a small battered red leather-bound book on his nightstand; it’s a second-hand copy of a collection of Warring States era poetry. Guy scribbles in the margins of all his books, but this one is littered with annotations and underlinings. On rainy nights, while you rest your head on his broad bare chest, Guy will hold you close and read a poem or two from this book to you. Uncharacteristically quiet, measured, and serious, his voice is like honey. When he goes away on long missions, you’ll often find a note resting on top of the book with a page number and line number written on it, you know to save peaking at that passage for a particularly hard moment, when you wish his gentle voice and inspiring words were there to comfort you.

One of the major challenges of being in a relationship with Might Guy is the sheer volume of food he consumes. His strict training regime and huge energy output mean that Guy eats up to 14 meals a day; all carefully nutritionally balanced. So much of both of your free time is dedicated to bulk cooking, preparing bento boxes, dehydrating fruit and vegetables, boiling eggs, steaming fish... Guy appreciates every second you put into helping him with his training and diet. Whenever you both have a free day in the village he hand writes you a note and leaves it in the kitchen with a cup of fresh coffee resting on top inviting you to dinner. Guy always chooses the most comfortable places, with home-style food and free-flowing sake and beers. He insists you order anything and everything you want, reminding you to leave room for dessert. He holds your hand over sticky tables, wearing a T-shirt and standard-issue jōnin trousers, smiling at you widely as you share dumplings and scallion pancakes dripping with black vinegar and chili oil. When you leave the restaurant, completely full, he pulls you into his arms and kisses you deeply, a large tanned hand on the back of your head and his other pulling you into him by the small of your back. You don’t know what makes you feel drunker; the sake, the food, or the depth of his kiss.

After your first few dates, you promised to cook for Guy at your apartment. Already knowing his love of curry, you silently vowed to yourself that you would wean him off that S&B curry roux blocks he always seemed to be purchasing when you ran into him in the village. The first time you cooked him a curry, he leant his hip against your kitchen cabinet, sipping a jasmine tea, and with rapt attention listened to you explain which different spices you'd be using for the curry paste. Guy would explain the medicinal uses for each one as you measured them out, all of them known to him already due to his extensive herbal medicine knowledge. This is the moment you knew that you'd fallen in love, listening to Guy explain to you that to activate the medicinal properties of turmeric, you'd need some fresh black pepper, with Guy showing you the best time to add garlic to preserve the allicin to ward off colds. While he explained to you all the properties, you told him what would work together and what wouldn't, to ensure that the finished curry paste would actually taste delicious and not just be a mash of flavours and chili. When your relationship deepened and you eventually came to share an apartment, a weekly curry night for Team 10 emerged, with Neji, Tenten and Lee sat around your large dining table, eating whatever curry you'd made that week. You sit there, smiling, as Guy explains how each component in the curry will help them become even more splendid shinobi.

At some point, you acquired a small turtle-shaped chalkboard, that hangs from a red ribbon on the handle of one of the kitchen cabinets. In the back of your mind, you think it was originally for reminders, but somewhere along the way, it got commandeered to record the results of Kakashi and Guy's challenges. You remember searching the rubble after Pain's attack to find it, sifting through tattered pages and broken ceramics in the vague hopes that it would be intact enough to save.

It is Hana Inuzuka who holds you tight around the stomach when you see the sky fill red during the 4th Shinobi War. Years ago, Guy had told you that he believed the time would come when he would eventually open the eight gate and that he would become Konoha’s red beast. he told you what would happen, from what he had gathered from the limited research on the topic. That he would burn hot as the sun and his body would disintegrate and he would fill the atmosphere as hot ash. You had sat in stunned silence at the man’s resolve and acceptance. Hana’s firm grip was suffocating around your stomach, and you could feel the eyes of members of the allied forces staring at you as you struggled, screaming. When the Infinite Tsukuyomi takes hold of you, you dream of chubby babies wearing green with pitch-black hair and iron grips, and a sweet uncle with white eyes and flowing clothes.

After the war and Guy’s discharge from the hospital, you find yourselves lost in your relationship. Guy becomes a shadow of himself, constantly encouraging you to leave, to let him wallow in peace, and for a brief few moments, you let yourself think that you could. The strain is unbearable at times, Guy considering himself unable to be your partner and you unable to reach the lightest parts of him. It is the 6th Hokage, Kakashi Hatake’s arrival on your doorstep, a new turtle chalkboard in hand that begins to turn the tide of Guy’s grief, and the pain in your relationship. Each week, Kakashi arrives for tea, and each week he issues a new challenge. It takes 6 months until Guy caves and agrees to go along with the rock paper scissors battle. He wins, 50-47. You mark the turtle chalkboard. Guy: 1, Lord 6th: 0. It hangs in your bedroom, and slowly the board becomes a mottled grey, with old chalk stains and the ghost of numbers. Guy begins training with Rock Lee again. He begins reading poetry again. His appetite climbs and climbs, and in the darkness of the night, he holds your hands and tells you he’s so so grateful you stayed - you are too.

Guy loves giving you head. He licks short wide tongued across your clit repeatedly and waits to hear your breath hitch and feel your hips twitching before he switches his tactic, enveloping your whole clit into his mouth and humming deeply as he licks and sucks, his bottom jaw rhythmically moving until your moans become deeper and longer, his hands pressing your hips into the bed. He loves it when you card your hands through his hair and grind into him. Sometimes he lets you cum like this, hips rising to meet his mouth and your fingers grasping at the sheets crying out his name, other times he edges you by drawing you closer and closer to your climax and allowing two fingers to slowly stretch you out in time with the licks of his tongue. He stops when you’re beginning to feel the pleasurable heat build and build and throws your legs up, moving quickly and lining himself up with your entrance and thrusting into you before your pleasure completely dissipates. He fucks you, giving himself a moment of relief before stopping to continue where he had stopped moments before, head between your legs and eyes looking up at you, dark and heavy, watching your chest brace and your muscles tense, pushing you over the edge in a few minutes, switching back to being inside you before the waves of pleasure have subsided so he can feel the clenching of your muscles around him and bring you quickly over the edge for a second time.

Even within your relationship, Guy has set himself personal challenges. When he is thrusting into you, or his fingers are deep inside you while his thumb rubs circles over your clit and your mouth hangs open, gasping and your hair is sticking to your face as you groan underneath him, overstimulated and hazy, he leans down and whispers into your ear - one more, okay? give me one more.

[decayedflower]

Stranger II

⋆ gif is mine

Pairing: Yang Hongwon x Reader

Genre: Underground rapper!Hongwon, Barista!Reader | angst, fluff

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Don’t get attached. This was his number one rule. Attachment means getting hurt. Attachment means vulnerability. You are the only person you can trust. So how could she so easily sneak past and break the walls he had worked so hard to build around his heart when all she is, is a stranger?

Warnings: cussing, some angst, hamin being a noodle

A/N: Sorry this took forever to upload, life happens ya know? Next chapter should be more exciting as the ball gets rolling. Hope you guys enjoy :)

You told yourself that no matter how in love you were with someone, you could detach yourself from your emotions enough so that—should the day come—you could live your life without them.

Looking at yourself now, you admit you’re a little ashamed. You couldn’t stop bawling your eyes out for 2 weeks straight. You guess you didn’t do as good a job ‘detaching’ as you thought you did.

You mentally slap yourself. You once lived your life without him bitch, you can do it again. 

It was on a rainy Monday afternoon that you found yourself in bed—cheeto dust on your titties—marathon watching Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo. Curse Nam Joohyuk. How could a man be so goddamn perfect? He was handsome, funny, loving—and most certainly not a CHEATER. 

You sigh and decide that you should probably get up and shower before Hyeri comes home and sees your miserable state. You feel bad worrying her so much. She’s always been way too kind and selfless for her own good.

You grab a fresh set of pj’s and determinedly head to the bathroom. The least you could do was stop moping and try to clear your thoughts of him. For both your sakes.

Just as you finish that thought, you catch sight of the item sitting on top of your dresser. Your favorite hoodie. His hoodie. You scowl and toss it into the trash bin. If only all men were like Nam Joohyuk. The world would be a much more peaceful place.

“Sooo, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You know how Princess Peach is always getting her ass kidnapped?”

You laugh at the odd question. “I do recall the kidnapping of the Princess Peach ass, yes.”

“Well, it just hit me. Why doesn’t the bitch ever fight back? I mean,” Jin places a hand on his hip thoughtfully, “how is it that she manages to get kidnapped by the same dude every single time? She’s a princess. Shouldn’t she have high level security?”

“Huh. I never really thought about that.”

“How could you not! She has marshmallows for bodyguards. It’s outrageous.”

“Does it really matter?” you ask.

He sounds genuinely offended. “Of course it does. You ever see Daisy getting kidnapped?”

“Well, no but—“

“Besides, isn’t it a little ridiculous how there’s this expectation that Mario has to save her? I mean, he’s not even a prince or a knight, he’s a plumber! An italian plumber! The amount of disrespect is just astronomical considering the lengths he goes to—”

“Seokjin why are we talking about this?” You ask, baffled. You take a look at your workstation and head to the stockroom to get more large size cups. Jin trails behind you, obviously upset with your lack of interest in the conversation.

 “It’s a legitimate concern, Y/N. Someone needs to pay attention to these details and it is the duty of I, the consumer, to voice the—whoa whoa whoa, since when do we have oatmeal raisin cookies?!” He screeches mid-rant, staring at a pack of cookies he holds in his hand.

You whip around to have a look, not believing your ears. “What the fuck?”

It’s true. The box of oatmeal raisin cookies sits atop the third shelf, right next to the double chocolate chip cookies.

“The boss sent an email out on Sunday,” Yoongi stands at the doorway holding a box of promotional flyers. If it were possible, you swear tumbleweed would have made its way between the three of you with the silence that follows as you and Jin stare at each other blankly.

“Which,” Yoongi drawls out, “I guess neither of you read.” he states dryly, walking away.

“Who the hell likes oatmeal raisin?” Jin asks defensively. Personally, you couldn’t agree more. Oatmeal cookies on their own were tolerable—it was the raisin part that completely ruined the entire cookie.

“They’re Satan’s spawn,” he scowls, tossing the aforementioned cookie back in the box as if it had personally insulted him. You chuckle and shake your head, walking back to your station with the box of plastic cups.

You start stocking them back up on the counter, making sure it looks neat. 

“Hey Jin,” Yoongi calls out from the front of the store, “can you grab that window marker and write out the menu again? The rain washed some of it off.” He says, examining the missing bits of letters, nose scrunched in annoyance.

You could practically hear the way the older boy starts seething at Yoongi’s lack of use in honorifics. The tips of his ears flare a bright red, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“I’M SORRY, COME AGAIN?! I couldn’t hear you over the DISRESPECT.”

Seokjin takes great pride in being the oldest of the crew. He enjoys taking care of the others as if they were of his own blood, you included. He has a somewhat sarcastic sense of humor—but never overbearingly so—always exaggerating his facial expressions and reactions, which you personally find charming. Seokjin is also infamous for his constant dad jokes, the younger ones usually cringing at their cheesiness and have you bending over in laughter. (The other boys beg you to stop egging him on as it only fuels his desire to keep them going.) That being said, Jin is not someone who gets easily irritated. When it comes to certain things, he is just, well, a bit of a drama queen.

You stifle a laugh, watching as Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, very obviously regretting his choice of words. “Hyung, will you please go rewrite the menu outside?”

“Thank you! Can’t you just do that from the get go? I swear you kids are so ungrateful sometimes. I mean, you all seem to forget how I practically raised you brats—”

“Hyung, please get your ass outside or so help me I will go into that break room right now, clock out, take the longest nap of my damn life and just leave you two out here to die.” 

“Alright, alright,” he says, putting his hand up, “I’m going geez. What a drama queen.” He huffs his way to the entrance, shaking his head, marker in hand. “And you guys say I’m the dramatic one.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

Yoongi stands there looking up at the ceiling with his hands on both hips as if silently asking the heavens for a tiny shred of patience.

You snicker behind your hand. You swear hearing those two bicker is your daily source of serotonin. 

It’s 3 more hours into your shift when Hamin shows up at the front counter with his signature soft boy smile.

He first visited the cafe during the summer one day back when you had just been hired. The intense summer heat wave had him coming in search of some shelter from the sun and a drink to cool off. The Grind was promoting the seasonal summer drinks and naturally, as a new hire, you tried your best to advertise it. It was only your second day on the job and in your nervous state you sold him a drink that, to just your luck, wasn’t available that day. You apologized profusely afraid that he would turn out to be a Karen, but Hamin had been very sweet about it. He befriended you after that, making frequent visits to the Grind, declaring that he had found a hidden gem.

After talking to him some more you learned that Hamin had studied psychology for two years at a local college before he decided to drop out and pursue his musical career. Of course he didn’t tell you that last part up until a couple of weeks ago, so you had been under the impression that the reason he spent so many hours at the coffee shop was to study for his exams. You weren’t the type of person to pry into someone’s personal life unless they decided to tell you themselves so you never asked. Ever since Hongwon confessed to you that both he and Hamin were working towards becoming musicians, Hamin began to share more about himself to you. He figured that now that the cat was out of the bag, he could be more open with you. Prior to that day, you knew very little about Hamin’s personal life.

“Hey you! You’re back,” you beam. 

“Yeah, gotta grind,” he pats his bag for emphasis. “Ha! Grind...” he snorts suddenly. “Get it? Cause we’re at...” he gestures to the shop and laughs to himself. He looks goofy standing there in his bright lavender tie dye hoodie, a big contrast to the muted colors of the walls. His tall lean form stands out like a sore thumb. An Adidas baseball cap adorns his head but it’s so washed out you can’t even tell what color it is—or is supposed to be. 

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh come on, it was funny,” he says, leaning on the counter.

“It was funny the first couple times Jin said it when I just started working here,” You correct.

“You still laughed though,” he winks at you, making you laugh again. “Anyway,” he straightens up, “Can I get the usual, please?”

You grab a cup and start writing his name. “Just you this time?” 

“Nah, my idiot friend is coming but he’s gonna run late so I’ll just order ahead of him.” He sighs, reaching into his pocket in search of his wallet. “How much is it?” He asks, fumbling through a bunch of receipts and cards.

You wave him off. “On the house.”

“No way, I can—”

“Hamin, dude, relax. You do this every time. I keep telling you, discount: friend. Total: zero.” 

“You gotta let me pay every now and then. I don’t want your coworkers to think I keep coming here to leech off you…”

“Look, if you were really taking advantage of me, you wouldn’t keep disappearing on me for weeks at a time. Consider it an advance payment for when you finally let me hear a song of yours. ”

“Sorry…” He smiles sheepishly, “It’s a deal then. Thanks Y/N, you’re the best,” he grins. You flip your hair dramatically, playing along.

You make his drink and note that work is slow enough, so you head over to his table instead of calling him over.

You place his drink on the table, “so what’re you working on today?” He looks up and thanks you, taking a sip before he answers.

“A solo project. I don’t have anything now that’s worth listening to though…” He says dejectedly. Admittedly, he’s been going though somewhat of a writer's block. 

“That’s okay! I didn’t mean to pressure you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be glad to give it a listen if you’re still willing to let me. Good music also takes time, right?” You smile encouragingly.

Someone yells out your name before he’s able to respond. You turn at the sound, “Oh hey!” you exclaim when you see your roommate. You turn back to wish Hamin luck on his writing.

“Thanks for the lunch, Hyeri,” you pat your stuffed tummy in satisfaction. “I forgot to prep mine last night so I was honestly just gonna wait until I got home to eat,” you confess meekly.

She showed up during your shift planning to ask you what kind of food you were in the mood for so she could bring it to you, but Yoongi caught on and sent you on your lunch break so the two of you could eat together instead. Min Yoongi was a godsend. 

“I knew it! Y/N, you have to eat your meals! Do you know how detrimental it is to your health if you’re constantly working and skipping your meals?!” you cower as she scolds you. 

“I know…sorry. I just forgot...” you squeak.

“Ugh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I just worry about you,” she sighs, taking her seat again.

“And I’m so thankful!” you say quickly placing your hand on hers, “I’m sorry you’re always having to take care of me. I’ll work harder so that I don’t become a burden to you. I promise. I haven’t been myself these days but...just give me some time.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, “Hey. You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. You’re like a sister to me. And I would never put your emotions against you. You need time to heal and that’s okay. Take it at your pace. I will always look after you, no matter what. Okay?”

Your heart warms at her words. You were so grateful to have her for a best friend. You engulf her in a hug and look at the time. 

“I should head back. My break is just about over. Thank you for everything, Hyeri. Are you staying? I’ll make you a drink. On the house. You can study there?” you ask.

“Well, I was planning on going to my school’s library, but I guess I could use a drink…” She paused for a moment. “Is Jungkook working today?” She asks, hopeful. 

Her crush on your coworker was so amusing. “Unfortunately for you, not today, sorry.” She pouts cutely.

“I’ll make you a green matcha latte?”

“Pretty please.”

You giggle, “Okay, let’s head back then.” 

It was a good thing the two of you decided to eat at the chinese restaurant across the shop, so the walk isn’t long. You came here so often that the kind elderly woman who owned the restaurant had memorized your order. You couldn’t help it that their sweet and sour chicken was bomb as hell. What you would give for that recipe.

You’re internally groaning at the thought of having to go back into work when Hyeri stops in front of the entrance and lets out a low whistle. 

“Whoa, hey. Which one of your coworkers drives a damn motorcycle?!” She points to a sleek, graphite motorcycle parked on the curb, two cars away from yours. 

“Whoa. Uhh...no one, not that I’m aware of. Jin drives a Honda Civic and Yoongi ubers cause of car issues.” You shrug, opening the door. “Must be a customer’s.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s just me, but that thing is screaming big dick energy.” She says, following behind you. You laugh and smack her shoulder. 

“You say that but what if it’s some old bald dude that listens to metal?” You ask, leading her to a table farther in the back so she can study peacefully. 

“Well err...hopefully not. I’m just saying whoever rides that thing, I wouldn’t mind riding too. Hell, I could ride all night…” she trails off. You bury your embarrassed face in your hands and try to hold in your laughter so you don’t disturb the customers. 

“Oh my god. Stop talking. You’re gonna get me in trouble.” You point at a chair, “Sit here and I’ll bring your drink. Behave,” you warn playfully.

“Yes ma'am,” She winks and points shooter fingers at you. You laugh with a roll of your eyes, heading back to clock in. 

“You seem...distracted.” Hamin says, amusement lacing his words.

“Huh?” Hongwon turns at the accusation with wide eyes.

He sighs. “I mean,” he says crossing his arms, “ever since you got here 15 minutes ago, it’s like you keep looking around for...something.”

“So, you’re saying for the past 15 minutes you’ve been watching me like a creep?” He turns his attention back to the music software in front of him. “I told you I don’t swing that way.” he says, clicking random notes on the half-finished project.

Hamin snorts. “Don’t change the subject. What‘s got you so distracted dude?” He asks, slurping up the remains of his drink through his straw.

“The only distraction here is the eggplant sitting in front of me...” He trails off when you enter the coffee shop with your friend in tow. You’re laughing, giving her a smack on the shoulder playfully at a joke she tells you.

Hamin stops his obnoxious slurping when he follows his friend’s gaze. “Ohhhhh!” he grins.

“What?” He snaps. “No ohhhh. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything.” Hamin brings his hands up defensively. “Brain empty. No thoughts.” He taps the side of his head with his index finger. “Buuuttt if you were so interested you could’ve just asked, you know.”

“And what would I have asked exactly?” He asks with a tinge of annoyance.

Hamin tsks under his breath, exasperated. “Oh come on. I mean Y/N. You wanted to know if she was working. Am I right or am I right?”

“Why the hell would I wanna know that? I don’t even know her. ”

“Hongwon!” He’s caught off guard at the sound of your voice. He internally slams his own head against the table and forces a smile when you approach the table, avoiding Hamin’s gaze.

“Y/N, hey…”

“Hold on, you know each other already?” Hamin asks obnoxiously, “I only briefly mentioned you to him, but you already know his name!” Hongwon shoots daggers at the side of his head.

“Actually,” Hongwon says through gritted teeth, “we talked for a bit when I was on my way out the other day. It would have been rude of me to not introduce myself since she’s your friend.”

“He was even kind enough to walk with me on the way home even though it was raining. Thanks for that by the way, you really didn’t have to do that.”  Hamin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shit. The smile you give him is so sincere that he almost misses what you say completely.

“Really!” Hamin grins, clearly enjoying the situation. He pats his shorter friend’s head in mock endearment. “That’s so sweet of him! I mean, considering he lives in a completely opposite di—” Hongwon sends a swift kick to his shin underneath the table.

“Fuck!” Hamin rubs the spot and laughs through the gritted teeth. “I mean...that’s sweet of him considering he’s normally so shy.” He growls at Hongwon and plasters a smile when he looks back at you. You probably think they’re both lunatics.

“Right…” You laugh, unsure of what’s happening. “By the way, did you want a drink? I’ll make it for you.” You tell Hongwon.

“Oh, uh yeah I was just gonna get an americano. Let me just—” He starts to stand up and take out some cash when you stop him.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” He asks. “I don’t want to get you in trouble…”

“Don’t worry, I get free drinks and pastries since I work here.” You say.

“And she shares them with me because I’m her favorite customer. Right, Y/N?” Hamin wiggles his eyebrows at you. You laugh and pick up his empty cup.

“Is he always this much of a moron when he comes here?” Hongwon asks, scrunching his face in distaste. You laugh and ask them to wait while you bring them coffee. 

Hamin waits until you’re completely out of ear shot before he begins his interrogation. 

“You know, for a pair of strangers, you two seem very well acquainted.” He states, eyes narrowed.

Hongwon scoffs. “You know, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but somehow you have a really punchable face.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“Oh shut up. I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I needed to.”

“‘I don’t even know her,’” Hamin mimics.

“I don’t know her. I know her name, that’s it. Not the same thing.”

“So you like her.”

He laughs. “What are you, five? How could I like her? I just met her, idiot.”

“You walked her home.” He says pointedly.

“Part way. I only did it because it was getting late and she’s your friend.”

“Ha! Since when do you care about my friends?”

“She’s a girl, it’s different. If something happened to her because I looked the other way, it’d be on my conscience.”

“You live in completely opposite directions.”

“So what?”

“You wouldn’t even do that for me.” Hamin deadpans.

“Yeah but you’re not a cute girl.” He shrugs, crossing his arms.

“So you think she’s cute!” He slams both hands onto the table, leaning forward to peer into Hongwon’s face accusingly. 

“So what? She is cute.” He shoves him away, “that doesn’t mean I like her.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Hamin smirks and leans back in his seat.

“What?” He snaps.

“Nothing,” He says with a look on his face that screams everything but nothing.

Hongwon drags his hands over his face. “You really piss me off, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned that before,” he replies, appearing unbothered.

He’s lucky you decide to come back at that moment. He swears he’d have slapped the smile off his face had he been left alone with Hamin for a minute longer.

You set down the coffee and start to walk back to the counter. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you guys too much so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Y/N!” Hamin shifts in his seat to face you. “Are you busy Friday?” This puts Hongwon on alert.

 “Hmmm...no, I don’t think I have anything going on actually. Why what’s up?”

“You’ve been wanting to hear some of our music for a while now, right? Well,” he loops an arm around Hongwon’s shoulder, “guess who has a gig that night?”

“No way!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands. “Wait, but I thought you didn’t have any music that’s finished.” You frown.

“Well, it’s not that we don’t, I just kinda wanted you to hear our new stuff first. But now that I think about it, this is as good a time as any. If you’re interested, a friend of ours is hosting a party and he asked a couple of artists to play for him. It’s at the Henz Club.” 

“You mean that scary looking club in Mapo-gu?”

“Scary? I mean sure, some odd looking people hang around there, but they’re all pretty chill for the most part. Right Hongwon?” 

Hongwon slaps his arm away. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come but you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” He supplies. “We’d understand if—oof!”

“Nonsense!” Hamin butts in, shoving his elbow into Hongwon’s side. “You can bring your friend over there if you want, so you don’t have to worry about being alone.” He motions his head in the direction of Hyeri who—not so discreetly—pretends like she hasn’t been trying to make out what the three of you have been talking about for the past 10 minutes.

“Ah, but either way we won’t ditch you after the performance, I promise. How about it?”

Hongwon is still recovering from having the wind knocked out of his lungs and before he knows it, somehow you’re agreeing and Hamin is giving you the details. 

“I’m so excited, I can’t wait to hear you guys.” You say cheerfully. 

“You should see this guy on stage,” Hamin gestures to Hongwon, “he really puts on a show. Like a true rockstar.”

 “You know, you saying that doesn’t make me feel good,” Hongwon says with a frown, sitting back in his chair defeatedly. 

 “Oh and don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of screaming.” He ignores him, “There’s always a lot of fangirls, especially for Hongwon. They literally come in swarms, it's crazy.”

“Oh my god. Stop. You’re so embarrassing.” He groans, looking away.

“Wow, you’re really hyping him up,” you laugh.

“Ignore him. He’s just saying whatever the hell he wants.” 

“No way, it’s really the truth.” He insists, folding his arms across his chest.

“Y/N! We need you in the back!” Yoongi calls out, his head poking out from the staff only door. 

“I gotta go. I guess I’ll see you guys on Friday!” You say, waving. “Coming!” You call out, following after your coworker.

Hamin smiles stupidly as you leave. “Isn’t she sweet!”

Hamin and Hongwon hang around at the café for a few more hours until they decide to grab a bite to eat. For the remainder of the time they spent working on their music, Hongwon had not uttered a single word. The most Hamin had gotten out of him was a “sure” when he suggested they get burgers before heading home.

He exits his car, watching as Hongwon removes his helmet to fix the mess it makes of his hair. 

Sighing deeply, Hamin leans against the side of his car, hitting the park button on his remote. “Come on, don’t be so cold. How long are you gonna give me the silent treatment for?” 

He slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, dreading to ask but needing to know. “Are you really that pissed off because I invited her?”

Hongwon slips the hollow side of his helmet onto the handlebar and mimics Hamin, leaning against his motorcycle. “Depends,” he says, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket to light one up, “why’d you invite her?”

Hamin considers his answer carefully, shifting his weight onto the other leg. It’s obvious that Hongwon is already upset, so anything he says will probably get him angry anyway. “I was hoping maybe you guys could hit off,” he says at last, deciding to be honest.

In truth, Hongwon isn’t surprised to hear this—he actually suspected it—but it still pisses him off nonetheless. It wasn’t the first time Hamin tried setting him up with someone. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. This was something he had told him countless times and yet, he continues to pull stunts like this.

“I know you said you aren’t looking for a relationship,” Hamin continues when he proceeds to bring the cigarette to his lips without a reply, “but I just think you could at least talk to her and—“

“And then what? We fall in love, get married and ride off into the sunset?” He cuts him off abruptly.

“No, I just—“ he starts to say but stops when he can’t think of how to word it correctly.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Y/N went through a bad breakup, and so did I. You think maybe the two of us can find the comfort we couldn’t find with our previous relationships, in each other.” He pauses to take a drag of his cigarette. 

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that's a load of shit. This idea you have that love can just make me forget about all my trauma, is a load of shit.” Hamin flinches at the sudden aggression in his tone. This really didn’t come across the way he intended it to.

“Guess what, I’m fucked up Hamin!” He continues, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. “I have too many damn issues and I don’t need some chick to try to figure me out or fix me. I told you already, I’m happy with the way things are. I’m not gonna play into your stupid games just because you want to play fuckin’ cupid.” Hongwon scowls, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Hamin keeps his gaze on the ground, frustrated with how easily and accurately Hongwon is able to guess what he’s thinking. He didn’t realize how terrible it all sounded out loud. He racks his brain for something—anything—to say and argue that those aren’t his intentions, but Hongwon is speaking again before he’s able to do so successfully. 

“I don’t care if you invite her. Just don’t go expecting anything out of me.”

He nods his head weakly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, bro…” He says scratching his neck, “I’m not trying to find someone to fix you...” he trails off.

“It’s cool.” He sniffles, the cold air getting to him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap like that.”

Hamin is taken aback for a second, not expecting him to apologize. He kicks the floor with his sneaker, “S’cool.”

“You still hungry?” Hamin asks, afraid that their little spat would create unnecessary tension between them.

Hongwon tosses his cigarette onto the floor to put it out with his sneaker. “Fuckin’ starving.”

You went home together with Hyeri later that afternoon once your shift was over. It was always nice to go home when the sun was setting and the air felt cooler. You loved how quiet the city got, allowing you to simply be one with your thoughts. 

Unfortunately for you, today was not one of those days.

You release a sigh as you continue to pretend to not notice Hyeri’s constant fidgeting. “Hyeri, if you want to know so badly just ask already.”

She releases a giant breath as if she had been holding it this entire time. “Oh thank goodness because I felt like I was actually going to die if you didn’t say something soon,” she says grabbing your arm excitedly, like a puppy who was just called over by its owner. 

“What were you doing with those two hotties I’ve never seen before?” You couldn’t tell what made her more excited―the fact that she found them so attractive or the fact that you were talking to men other than your coworkers. “Is one of them single?” she stops walking and gasps, “Are they both single?!”

An older lady walking her Chihuahua gives you a scornful look as she passes the two of you and you bring your finger to your lips to shush Hyeri. “Sorry,” she says with a giggle, “but this is huge!”

You pull her along with you to cross the short crosswalk and to the steps of your apartment complex, “It’s not a big deal. Besides, you’ve seen Hamin before.” You say, slipping your house key into the lock and opening the door.

“Okay but, this time there was another guy too. And you guys talked for like 20 minutes! On your shift!” She says, removing her shoes quickly to stand in front of you excitedly. You stop untying your shoelaces to give her a look.

“He’s a friend I made through Hamin. Who is also just my friend,” You tell her slowly as if you were explaining it to a child but you can tell by her smile that she’s not listening. You sigh and slip your work shoes off, putting them in the hallway closet. Hyeri hovers behind you, not wanting to be too pushy but also too worked up to leave you alone.

You stand up straight and turn around. “Okay fine. Hamin invited me to this party,” this already has Hyeri clasping her hands over mouth, “he and his friend are playing a gig for a friend—”

She’s squealing and jumping around before you can finish your sentence. “And they want you there as their plus one! Oh my—”

“But I think Hamin knows about the breakup and he feels bad and that’s why he invited me,” you say quickly. Hyeri stops mid spin to give you an incredulous look. “I mean, they kind of saw the whole thing since it happened at work,” you say glumly.

Hyeri wraps her arms around you when she sees how you deflate at the reminder. “Hey, don’t make such a sad face. You guys have been friends for a while now, right? I haven’t met the guy but I’m sure he invited you because he wants you there and not because he pities you.”

“Sorry. I think I’ve been trying too hard not to think about it so all the negative thoughts are really hitting me now,” you say, resting your head on her shoulder. She always had such a comforting mom warmth to her.

She releases you and gives you a comforting smile. “Do you want to go?”

“Well,” you sit on your bed exhausted, “I actually didn’t know Hamin played music until recently. I’ve really been wanting to hear some of his stuff and apparently his friend does music too..”

“Girl, there’s your answer! Who says you have to spend your days sad and alone after a breakup? If you want to go, go.” She encourages you. She had a point. Although somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt guilty. When Hamin invited you, you were super stoked and set on going but now that you were really thinking about it, you couldn’t help but think of Jaewon.

“I can tell you’re overthinking this,” Hyeri says. “Don’t. You’re a free woman! Free from a man who took advantage of you and didn’t know how to treasure you. Do whatever the fuck you want because it’s no one’s business. It’s not like you’re planning to go sleep around.” She crosses her arms across her chest, “and even if you are guess what, it’s still no one’s business.” She says vehemently.

You pick at your nails and bite your lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?!”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

She squeals again and launches herself onto you. You land with an oof on your bed, her head barely missing yours by an arm hair. “Oh, one more thing though,” you manage to say from beneath her. “They kind of invited you too.”

Hyeri lifts herself up at this. She stares at you with wide eyes, “what do you mean?”

“I guess they saw us talking together and figured we were friends. Also, they caught you trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.” You tell her.

“Nooooooooooo,” she cries and runs to throw herself onto her bed face flat.

“It was the hiding behind an upside down textbook for me,” you snicker.

“Y/N, please I’m in the middle of dying of embarrassment.”

[il-papa-patata]

Come into My Heart

Mary and Swiss have a good fuck at the end of a long day.

(Established Mary/Swiss, Mary is Special Ghoul AU, smut with feelings, creampies, pwp)

Rated Explicit/18+

Cut for space and content

He'd told Terzo he wanted Swiss to nut in him, but like, emotionally.

The man has squinted at him, lips pulling into a grimace, and asked him if he was still high or something.

No, he wasn't high. And however weirdly put, it was a sincere desire of Mary's, though hard to exactly quantify. It's not like he could actually tell Swiss to nut in his heart, and it's not like he could give directions on how to get there, but-

Well, Swiss is kind of getting there on his own right now.

It's at the end of a long day. An early morning, waking up to a cool summer sunrise where the air was clean and fresh, they showered together (which was totally just practical, although having Swiss' big hands sudsing him up was the kind of torture he'd happily submit to for eternities), a light breakfast of leftover pastries from Aether (who's been on a baking stint), band practice and a mass and an early dinner together with everyone at some local restaurant, the plates flying and laughter burbling out of everyone, tips and critiques and praises swapped as they tucked into the food. And when they had gotten back, Swiss had pulled him against the door and kissed him for a good long while, these gentle presses of lips and teeth and tongue to his face and neck and shoulder, and grinned at him, saying “I missed you.”

They had a good night in – Swiss put on their favorite record, they had stripped out of their vestments, gotten into their sleep clothes, and cuddled close on the couch, talking about everything and nothing all at once.

At some point he had crawled into Swiss's lap, kissing him. Swiss had agreed, pulling Mary into him by his waist, roving those big wonderful hands along his skin, pulling off the sleep shirt and starting to nip and lick at that exposed skin. Mary had watched Swiss kiss him – soft and reverent, quiet in the still of their apartment (and it was theirs now) – and had thought if I could fall more in love with this man I would.

Swiss had picked him up – one arm, so strong, strength that was always gentle without being patronizing – and taken him into their bedroom, settled him across the sheets, told him that he wanted to fuck him until he was brainless from it.

Which is exactly what he's doing.

Slow, soft – but not gentle, not really. Swiss takes his time, lingers over each piece of Mary's skin, each turn of his joints and each smooth expanse of his skin. He nips and nibbles, licks and laves. Mary settles into the bed, arching into the touches that come.

“Pretty thing,” Swiss murmurs.

Swiss's big hands smooth warmth into places – his thighs, first, coming up under his ass to pull him closer, down towards the edge of the bed, then to smooth against the divot in his upper arm, down to his hand where their fingers lace gently. He pulls off Mary's sleep pants with one hand (and some help from Mary's free hand) and nestles his cock against Mary's, bending down so that their foreheads touch.

“How do you want it, pretty thing?”

“Mm,” Mary murmurs, “In your lap.”

“Edge of the bed or up by the pillows?”

“The edge.”

Swiss laughs, pressing a kiss beside his nose.

They part, resettling – Swiss goes for the little box of stuff they have, trying to grab a condom, but Mary shakes his head. Just lube is fine. Swiss nods, sits along his side of the bed, coos compliments as Mary gets up over his lap.

Swiss drizzles a bit of lube onto his fingers, settling his cheek against Mary's shoulder, presses his finger against him. Mary tenses – he's done this so many times but Swiss's touch is so gentle and tender that it feels new -- shudders a breath, and dips his head against his chest.

“Okay?” he murmurs.

“It's fine.”

“Just relax,” Swiss murmurs, “I've got you.”

One finger – Mary groans softly, nuzzles his nose against Swiss' hair, leaning into him. After a moment, a second – Swiss's other hand holds his hip, spreading him open a little more. A third, slicking in and out of him slowly, and Mary shudders again, holding Swiss even closer.

Slow left so much time for thinking – for emotions and love and desperation to worm in and demand place, for the fragile-tender part of him to sigh in relief, for the man who needed touch and warmth and tenderness to weep. Slow was worse, and better, with someone like Swiss, who he can lean into like this and who supports him, who doesn't laugh when Mary whines softly against his hair.

“You're ready?” Swiss murmurs against his neck, ghosting lips against it.

“Mm.”

Swiss guides him down.

Swiss is kind of a big guy, but he's used to the stretch by now. There's no pain involved, just a tightness. The pleased little sigh Swiss lets out is worth it.

Swiss doesn't push, or press – he just rests his hands on Mary's hips and waits for him, smiling up at him.

Mary starts slow, a shift of his hips, rising up and settling back. Swiss guides him along, slipping a hand along his spine, arching his back.

That's different. Swiss starts to roll his hips up into Mary, their stomachs shifting against each other. Mary always wants more- wants to cling to Swiss, touch him, touch him more and more. There was this carnivorous thing to consume him, become one and the same. It was nice to cling, but it was even nicer when Swiss pulls him close himself, losing the edges of himself in Swiss.

Swiss groans softly, smoothing his other hand down the hair at Mary's nape. Even just the way his breath comes, hot and heavy – just hearing that winds Mary up, feeling the way their stomachs press against each other with each deep breath.

Mary moves faster, the effort of bouncing too much when he's just chasing sensation, the deepness of Swiss, the head of his cock pushing against him in a way that makes him drool. Swiss balances it out, shifts Mary's hips with his firm, strong hands. Pulls him in close, like he's trying to push deeper.

Mary's head swims with it. The closeness, the feeling of him. Swiss's hand drags down from Mary's nape to his cock, smoothing his thumb along the underside of it and forcing a moan from Mary's throat.

“Ungh, yes, right there,” he whispers, Swiss ghosting his lips over Mary's pulse.

They rock together, Mary bonelessly grinding down of Swiss, Swiss rutting up into Mary, Mary's mouth going a mile a minute and muttering complete nonsense.

“So nice, so nice,” he mutters, limply gripping onto Swiss's arms, “Feels so good inside me, Switzy, s-so good.”

It's like he's dissolving where their skin meets – it's just- this closeness, the fact Swiss knows him, knows his body, paid attention to his body, treats him with care. Treats the person inside the body just as well, will no doubt smile when he lays them back on the bed, will ask if it was alright, will smooth gentle fingers over his cheeks and kiss them.

“Unh, Switzy,” he moans, flicking his hips against that insistent craving, against the way his skin sparks and shimmers, “Gonna- oh, I'm gonna come-”

“Yeah,” Swiss groans, nibbling a few quick, fluttering bites along his neck, up to his ear, before coming away to watch with hooded eyes.

Mary shifts a few more times, bracing himself on Swiss's arms, before his climax peaks and he's coming over Swiss's stomach.

“Shit,” Swiss groans, clenching his jaw, “So tight.”

“Come inside me,” Mary moans, drifting on the warmth and friction of Swiss's cock inside him, “Come in me, please, I want you-”

Swiss presses his lips against Mary's, silencing him as Swiss rolls his hips against Mary's, hitting up into him unevenly. He clenches his teeth again, hissing out a breath, brow knitting, before coming with a stuttering breath.

Mary shudders at the warmth that fills him, at Swiss's groan he presses into his shoulder, pulling Mary so close into him. Mary slings his arms around Swiss's shoulders, kisses him, their bodies a tangle of limbs – no way to tell from feeling where one of them begins and where the other ends.

Swiss pants. Mary forgets about breathing for a few moments, until Swiss's nice fingers drag along his ribs, as if coaxing the breath out of him.

Mary comes away first, head lolling back. It's dizzy, feverish, like the comedown of some upper, but Swiss's hands running gentle paths along his chest soothe him.

“Ooh,” Swiss groans, “Wow.”

He has the same kind of bleary-dizzy look Mary's sure must be on his own face. He licks his lips, shaking his head a bit. It's cute.

“Maybe we didn't plan enough,” Swiss mumbles, reaching for his shirt and settling it next to them. In a smooth motion, he rolls Mary onto it, his cock still inside.

“'s gonna ruin your shirt.” Mary's mouth is full of cotton, and his brain's turned to marshmallow, but there's a certainty in his heart when Swiss pulls out anyway.

Mary moans. He's always been kind of addicted to the feeling of pulling out – how Swiss's cockhead scrapes against orgasm-tender flesh, the feeling of finality and the chance Swiss might slip in again – but it's kind of even better with Swiss's come dripping out of him. It's lewd in all the right ways.

“We should shower,” Swiss murmurs, wrapping an arm around Mary's waist.

“Nh,” Mary groans, “I wanna cuddle.”

Swiss laughs, “You're gonna feel gross.”

“'m not gonna feel gross. I like your come in me.”

Swiss swallows, bites his lip. Mary grins, leaning in close.

“I like feeling like you're still inside me,” he teases, “Like I belong to you.”

Swiss's pretty silver eyes turn white hot for just a moment, shimmering with want.

It's kinda rare to see it, but it turns Mary on every time when he looks like that. He considers asking Swiss to fuck him again, to fill him up even more.

But Swiss just chuckles and kisses him gently, politely licking against his lips. Mary giggles unevenly, relaxes into it.

As carefully as they can, Swiss and he maneuver up to the pillows, Mary mindful of how he moves so he doesn't get the bed dirty, laying down on his stomach. They're in each other's places, but it's fine for one night, and it's fine when Swiss cuddles him up into his chest.

Mary sighs, holding him close and kissing him gently.

“You know, I told Terzo I wanted you to nut in me emotionally.”

Swiss laughs, “Oh yeah?”

“Think you did it,” he grins, “And I didn't even have to tell you to.”

Swiss smiles up at him, softly. Tucks a loose piece of hair behind his ear. “I have a pretty good guess of what you like, now.”

Mary smiles, a sudden giddiness riding through him. It's never been this easy with someone, and here Swiss was, knowing what he likes, what he needs. He throws his arms around Swiss's chest, laughing like he was drunk, and when Swiss hugs him back, laughing too, maybe he is.

Sleep comes easily, when Swiss starts running his hand down Mary's back in slow arcs. In the morning, they'll shower (together, for convenience, and Mary probably will complain about Swiss's come dripping down his thighs) and have breakfast (leftovers from dinner) and will probably part ways for the rest of the morning, but not before kissing each other at the threshold of the door and telling each other to have a good day.

And Mary's happy about it. He really is.

[johnkrrasinski]

Coffee with Cream

Chapter 1: Our Story Begins in a Diner

full masterlist

series masterlist

Pairings: Frank Castle x reader x Mad Sweeney 

Word count: 2,693

Warnings: sexism, mentions of alcohol, men being men.

Summary: Two men, one diner and little old you. Working at a diner had never been your dream job but, fate had a funny way of bringing two contrasted men into your life. 

a/n: hey guys! as you all know my obsession over frank castle and pablo schreiber had been exploding these past couple of months. and so, me and @nellblazer decided to write a good old threesome fic involving these two bulky men. hope you like it. enjoy! 

Morning shift:

Another day, another chaos. The buzz of the diner was in full swing as you raced to another table filled with new patrons after the previous ones just got up and left, leaving a generous tip for you as you wiped the surface clean and picked up the dirty dishes.

It was a daily occurrence for you to deal with the bustle. Mornings are always the most hectic. You had to pace back and forth from one table to another, wrote down their orders and carefully carried their meals and beverages to the starved consumers.

Another ring above the door echoed in the clamorous room. You had grown so acclimatized to the sound, that you barely noticed it even chimed. It was basically the soundtrack of the early hours at the diner. So it didn’t interrupt your brief conversation with one of the patrons who had just ordered a black coffee with pancakes as you penned them down on your notepad.

It was around 10 AM, entering brunch hours when he walked in.

You turned around to give the order to the cook but was shortly hindered by a dark-haired man with perfectly neat stubble the lower part of his face. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings due to the rush, so your body crashed with a taller dark figure that was walking in your direction.

“Oh, sorry, sir.” You were stunned. You couldn’t help but quickly notice the mysterious appeal of this man as his deep brown eyes looked into yours. For a second, it felt like the noise in the room suddenly faded into the background. You weren’t one in believing “love at first sight” but you definitely knew an attractive man when you saw one. And you were allured.

He quickly caught you by the shoulders and you loved the temporary moment that you had with him. His touch didn’t last long but you sure as hell wished it had.

“My mistake.” He shrugged it away like it was nothing. Then he walked away to the last booth in the corner and sat near the window. For a second there, you almost forgot what you were currently in the middle of, until you heard your name being called by one of the cooks.

“I’m coming.” You glanced at the lonesome man whom your fellow waitress co-worker was taking orders from once more before you quickly took another cooked order from the counter. You heard the indistinct murmur of the words ‘pancake’ and ‘a cup of espresso coffee’ being spoken by the man. Funny how despite his protruded emanation, he still made a common order.

But with him only a few feet away from where you were standing, things were just getting interesting.

-

An hour passed by and you were still pacing back and forth from pantry to one table to another. Until the commotion began to dwindle down, and you could just sit back behind the counter and wait for the remaining ones to get up and leave.

The blonde-haired man who had been indecorously eyeing you up and down after you first interacted with him to take his order earlier got up from table two and you were a tad relieved that he was finally about to leave. You just had to deal with him one more time and hopefully, you would never have to see his obnoxiously hideous face ever again.

Maybe you should consider spitting on a patron’s food next time, so they would have no interest in returning due to the bad service or unpleasant food ever again. Well, you’ll keep that in mind.

For now, you were trying to make yourself look as collected as possible despite attempting to hide your disgust on his predatory eyes. He neared toward where you were sitting, which was behind the cashier machine and you tried not to vomit right there.

“How much is it, hot stuff?” You couldn't mask your repugnance at his catcalling. But you neglected it, maintaining your professionalism.

“That’ll be $4.50, and don’t call me hot stuff.”

“Then give me your name, sweet cheeks.” He winked and crudely smirked at you as if he had just aced the last word. The truth was… It only made the idea of spilling a drink on his pants even more intriguing.

“Are you going to pay for your meal or not?” Then he scrambled through his pocket to unfold his wallet then he pulled out a few bucks and placed it on the counter in front of you. You took it without giving him a convivial look and a thank you, and immediately placed the money in the cashier machine.

“No smile for me? I give you some pretty generous tips there.”

“Go fuck yourself. Your tips’ pretty average anyway.” Then you turned your body against him but he abruptly stopped by harshly grabbing your wrist. You tried to release it out of his vicious grip, but this obnoxious man was much stronger than your liking.

“Let go of me!”

“You fucking rude bitch couldn’t even give me a smile, huh? I could get your ass fired out of here, you know that?”

“I said let go!”

What you didn’t notice was the inscrutable man who was sitting in the corner booth, had gotten up and approached the scene. He stood right next to the man that was harassing you, and he immediately put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, pal, let the lady go, alright? She’s not interested.”

“Who the fuck are you? Mind your own fuckin’ business, pal.” Then he released your wrist and immediately pushed the enigmatic man by the shoulders and it elicited a fire out of him. He didn’t look the slightest bit frenzied but he looked rather enlivened by the son of a bitch’s ineptitude and he was primed for whatever was going to go down. He then pushed the schmuck back, catching him off guard.

“You’re gonna regret that.” He sneered through his wounded ego. The mysterious man only kept his cold-hard stare at him and stood unwaveringly. The obnoxious man then threw a punch at him but he effortlessly dodged it like he saw it coming, then he miserably tried to throw a punch at him once more, but was caught and stopped effortlessly with only a single clench of his hand, then the mysterious man incased his fist and twisted it to the point where the schmuck gave away his pain through his face.

“Who regrets it, now?” The mysterious man gritted as his nostrils flared. The obnoxious man was shorter than him but somehow, he seemed into shrank down before this man.

“Not so tough now huh? You gonna say something? Hmm?”

“No, please, please! I’ll fucking leave, just let me go!” He begged through his visible terror.

He let him go with a slight push and the obnoxious man instantly fled and ran for his life. He exited through the door and didn’t look back.

After the mysterious man made sure that the little coward was out of sight, he shifted his gaze to your direction and his energy immediately improved. It turned into a warmer, more civil look. In fact… He seemed a little nervous. He was so certain of himself when he tamed down that bastard, but now he looked like a shy man who was nervous to talk to a pretty lady.

“You uh… You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Thank you.” You threw him a tiddly smile to truly show your gratitude. But you were also a tad amused by the rapid transformation in him.

“No problem. So uh… Do you deal with those kinda assholes often?”

“On some unfortunate days, yeah. There are two types of assholes though. One who miserly tips and the other who’s like the one you just terrorized to death.”

“Yeah, it can get pretty unpredictable working here, huh?”

“You got that right.” You sighed as you placed your hand on the counter to lean on it.

“So, do I get to know the name of my knight in shining armour?”

He shook his head and chuckled and if your vision wasn’t playing tricks on you, you think he was even slightly blushing.

“The name’s Frank. Frank Castle.”

“Well, Frank, Frank Castle… My name’s y/n. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” You shook hands whilst still maintaining unfaltering eye contact with the man. You chatted for a while before he paid for his meal and said his goodbye. You couldn’t remember seeing a smile on his dashing face before that. But you were glad that you did before he was out of sight.

“I’ll see you around.” Those four words loomed in your head throughout the entire day, making you smile like a starstruck idiot. You took the bus to ride back home and you put on your favourite happy song. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this giddy. You didn’t have a clue as to when you were going to see this man again but, you sure as hell were going to meet him in your daydream.

Evening shift:

After being kicked out of every local bar, Sweeney's drinking options were becoming thin.

Sure he could just buy whiskey from the grocery store and drink it from the bottle but that was verging on being the drunk under the bridge territory and he'd had enough of that for one lifetime. He certainly didn't miss the thumping hangovers or the aches of sleeping on the cold ground. He definitely didn't miss the gobshite kids who kicked him whilst he was asleep for fun or who stole the last of his alcohol.

For having a lucky coin, he sure did run into a lot of problems and they'd all started when he'd left Illinios in disgrace. Brooklyn hadn't been much more welcoming but at least he could make fun of the “Irish” bars that seemed to dot about the place....maybe he shouldn't have made as much fun as he did because he was thirsty and it was a need only booze would fill.

He stumbled upon a diner, unassuming and hidden and with that faded flaking majesty of an era long gone by, an era Sweeney missed fondly because you could get a slice of pie and a hard drink for little cash and every now and then he'd catch a glimpse of some lady's stocking top as a gust of wind hit.

He pulled his denim jacket around him, wishing it was still socially acceptable to have cloaks before pushing the door open where an old fashioned bell above tinkled. He could tell this place was a relic but he already loved it for that.

He walked to the red stools next to the counter and relished the warmth of the place and the wafting smell of coffee that lingered and mixed with the scent of pastry.

Sweeney wasn't expecting you to pop up from behind the counter as suddenly as you did and he clutched his chest as he flinched.

“Fuckin' hell!” he exclaims.

“Sorry!” you look mortified to have made him jump. “People keep dropping things over here.”

He wished he could say he was a gentleman and looked at your face first but....he didn't. His eyes travelled up the waitress uniform, following the line of your body until he finally lingered on the sweet face that was shyly tucking a stray hair behind the ear.

“Not to worry, little lasslin'. Woke me up. Got any whiskey for a weary man?”

“I sure do but not the expensive stuff.”

“I'm not particular,” he tries for a charming smile, hoping it lands.

“One whiskey coming up,” you smile back, although he's sure it's your default customer smile.

Nice all the same.

It had been a long time since a bonnie girl had smiled at him.

You brought the whiskey over as he was playing with his coin and your eyes immediately darted to it. Sweeney could see the flare of interest there.

“That's unusual,” you nod at it. “Seems old. Family heirloom?”

“You could say that,” he chuckles, holding it out for you to take.

He watches you study it, feeling an almost sense of pride that for once someone was interested in something that was essentially him and not what he could do for them. When your fingers trace the lines of the sun, he's mesmerised by the care you're taking with it.

“It's really pretty,” you hand it back.

He leans forward and you lean in too, “Not as pretty as you, mind.”

You took it in the spirit it was meant and didn't give him a slap so that was encouraging at least. He twirls the coin between his fingers before presenting it again.

“They say this is the very treasure of the sun. It bestows luck to whoever holds it n' the sun's good grace.”

“I could do with some of that right now,” you laugh.

“Got some problems?”

“There was an incident this morning with a customer,” you sigh, smoothing down the apron but you didn't elaborate. “Happens.”

“Well I tell ya what. I like this place already and so long as I'm around, no fucker is gonna spoil yer day. How about that?”

“What's your name?” you ask.

“Sweeney.”

“Nice to meet you Sweeney. Can I get anything else for you?”

“What's the best pie ya got?”

“Apple is always the favourite but between you and me, the Mississippi Mud Pie is better,” you whisper conspiratorially. “But don't tell my boss I said that.”

“Not a word,” he zips over his mouth before draining his glass. “One a' that then, lasslin' n' another whiskey.”

Sweeney can't help but watch you as you work, setting the glass down in front of him before serving him up a slice and he notes you look around to check as if you're doing something you shouldn't before putting both cream and ice cream on the side. You pass it along to him with a finger over your lips.

“You're only supposed to get one technically,” you wink.

“Yer very good to me, sweetheart,” Sweeney smiles broadly. “This is already my favourite diner I've ever been too n' don't worry, I'll keep my promise. Nobody will insult ya, hurt ya or upset ya whilst I'm here.”

“I'd best serve some other customers. Don't want them to think I'm playing favourites,” you give him a tiny wave before scooting off to refill coffee.

You were right, the pie was fantastic and he almost cried to discover the ice cream appeared to be the homemade variety. It had been so long so he'd had any type of cream that wasn't artificial. He was so sick of being summoned to his worshipper's homes and given dime store whip that tasted like the back end of a plastic conveyor belt.

He put down his money, giving a large tip and sliding it near to where you were making cocoa for someone. He ended up doing a coin trick out of habit which you watched with raptured interest before taking the cash.

“Thanks,” you smile brightly at him. “I'm heading off after this, split shift wears a girl out but if you ever come back, you have to teach me how to do that.”

“I'll teach ya anything ya want for good conversation and more pie,” he laughs.

“Deal. See you around Sweeney,” you head into the back room to change before a surly looking older man comes out to replace you.

This man wasn't nearly as interesting as you were and Sweeney's attention went back to drinking. Funnily enough, he'd forgotten all about that burning thirst to get obliterated when talking to you. There was something so easygoing, so comfortable about you that it felt like he'd lifted his head above the fog of his alcoholism for the first time in years.

Oh he'd definitely be back alright. He wouldn't fuck things up this time. He really liked it here.

And as he watched you in your normal clothes stride out into the darkening night, he thought maybe ending up here was lucky after all.

[spacesnaill]

Holds you at gunpoint. Every question for Jupiter. (you can skip some if you want-)

i love you, you motherfucker 🔫

1. what is your character's relationship to the traveler?

jupiter is aether’s and lumine’s big sibling, so they all get along very well. i like to think aether and lumine are way more brash and “act before you think” kind of people, while jupiter usually is the one who takes lead (both because of the big sib energy and because they are way more analytical). that being said, jupiter is aware that the twins are very much capable of surviving on their own and fighting if there is any need for that, which is why even after losing touch with them in tevyat they know that the twins will manage somehow, they just need to find them

2. is your character proud of, ashamed of, or indifferent to their feelings towards members of a certain gender?

i’d like to think that the species/society the trio comes from doesnt give a fuck about gender and sexuality so jupiter would never feel ashamed or upset about their feelings towards specific genders. i dont think they would rlly label themself but they are definitely not straight. as to having feelings towards others: they are usually straight forward in their approach

3. what is your character's relationship with themselves?

jupiter knows their purpose and objective very well, but that often clouds their true desires. i like to think that they havent really been thinking for themself up until they were stranded in tevyat and had to rely on themself. they came to realize their own opinions and perspectives that they carry with themself everywhere they go. tho, their views are rather flexible, because they are very much willing to learn if an oppoturnity arises. that being said, they dont quite know themself well just yet, they are still learning after all

4. what is their favorite region? why?

with how much of the game is available rn, liyue is definitely their favorite so far. it’s culture is incredibly rich and full of fascinating stories and legends. i personally am looking forward to the release of sumeru, but what will come out of it is yet to be seen

5. what is their relationship with Zhongli? do they have one at all?

oh they very much do. while his charm and politeness are qualities that they very much enjoy, what originally drew them closer to him was his vast knowledge over liyue’s traditions and customs. at first during their stay at liyue harbor they would wait to catch him during his afternoon and evening strolls around the city to ask him things and carefully listen to everything he has to say. id like to think that zhongli appreciated having such an active listener and even a conversation partner at some point. eventually their little friendship grew into fondness for each other and they would seek each other’s company, until jupiter straight up confessed. id like to think their relationship is fairly innocent and very much founded on mutual respect and admiration. they both value honesty and communicate with each other rather well. and even though, zhongli hesitated before agreeing to travel with them, leaving liyue behind, he doesnt regret doing it

6. who is their love interest? If they do not have one, who is their closest friend?

while zhongli is both their love interest and their dear friend, venti is their first close friend. during the events of chapter I they both bonded. venti seemed like someone containing a vast amount of knowledge that jupiter was eager to discover. it quickly became apparent to them that the bard doesnt particularly like to talk about the past in detail, but venti still would surprise them with how much he knew about art and the culture surrounding it. they are both pretty light spirited so they always enjoyed each other’s company and their bond only grew stronger during their travels.

7. what do they think of Mona?

they are curious about and intrigued by her methods. they can also very much relate to her pursuit of lost/forgotten knowledge. they like to ask her about astrology and theorize with her, asking her to teach them little things for an exchange of a hot, homemade meal

8. what do they think of The Knights of Favonius?

their opinion on the knights is mixed. they can very much see that most of the people working for them are underqualified and not cut for the job or only doing it for the renown. while the idea of a city without a ruler is appealing, in practice the knights are the ones ruling over it and jupiter was left feeling sceptical when thinking about their methods and the possible future. they dont have anything against the individual people in the organization, but they do think their approach is highly flawed

9. wine is Mondstadt's most popular drink. do they drink wine?

while they do indulge in alcohol from time to time, they dont seem to be able to get drunk or even tipsy. they’ve concluded that since their body is built differently than a person of this world’s, its very probable that they dont react to certain foods and products the same way. alcohol is like any kind of a drink for them and many people are terrified when they see them consume it in large quantities

10. what do they think of Kaeya?

they like his playful nature and think he is a highly intelligent person, who doesnt show anyone what he is truly capable of. his methods, while very  cunning, seem rather brash, which somehow reminds them of their siblings. while they are very much curious about his motives and history, they dare not to pray if it isnt welcomed. during their stay in mondstadt they would often times catch kaeya lurking in the tavern and spending time with the local gangs and bandits in order to extort information from them while drunk. in the rarer occasions where he would be alone, they would sometimes keep him company, filling the night with talks about nothing in particular

11. if they were forced to make the choice between killing their love interest/friend or killing themselves, what would they choose? why?

that very much depends on when that would happen. pre-separation with their siblings, they would very much operate on the hard logic of “whoever has more information/more important information should survive”. however after spending time in tevyat and meeting its people, jupiter learns to greatly value life and their inicial stance would change to a more selfless one. the more they get to know about the world the more they are willing to put their life on the line to preserve life in it, especially if its the life of someone they hold dear

12. what do they think of Childe? 16. is there a canon character your character hates? why?

at first they were open to the idea of being childe’s friend, however with time they started noticing that something was wrong with his overt friendliness. when he revealed his true intentions, jupiter was not surprised, but learning what he had chose to do made them absolutely despise him. staying in liyue has taught them a lot and made them care about the people living in this world. however childe seemed to have no disregard to them. they will not hesitate to fight him if their paths do cross again

13. do they carry a lot of Mora?

having a large amount of mora is basically a requirement when travelling with zhongli and venti. jupiter does take on a lot of jobs and comissions, though mora is mostly a secondary issue for them. they do find themself owning quite a lot of it at times until they overspend with their companions and are forced to rely on their survival skills in order to save up enough to get a roof over their heads

14. does your character side with Kaeya, Diluc or neither?

when it comes to the family feud: neither. jupiter doesnt like to pry into family matters and they understand both kaeya and diluc never talking about their issues with one another. while they cant imagine siblings behaving like that, due to their own experience, they dont feel like its their place to judge.

when it comes to the knights of the favonius: jupiter slightly leans more on diluc’s side, recognizing the many weaknesses of the organization as it is, however they both come from different places when critiquing it.

15. what do they think of Venti?

venti has become their best friend and they value him deeply. they worry about him sometimes, aware of the origin of his appearance and the history behind it. they like how venti seems to perceive life in a very poetic way and are fascinated by it. they get along very well and venti often fill their time during their travels by his songs, both known and not yet named

17. how did they acquire their vision?

they seem to be blessed with the same ability as their siblings when it comes to being granted powers without aquiring a vision themself

18. what is your character's weakness?

their curiosity and hunger for knowledge

19. what is their strength?

they utilize the knowledge they have gathered into things they can use to their advantage be it in battle or daily life

20. what is your character's theme song?

pure gold by half·alive

21. what weather do they love the most? why?

they love when its sunny. jupiter very much enjoys the feeling of sunlight on their skin

22. what do they think of Paimon?

jupiter would be Ecstatic to get to meet paimon. her vast knowledge in all matters would make her a valuable companion. in the current story they have no idea who she is as of now though

23. what do they think of the Fatui?

while they do not approve of the fatui’s methods, they cant help but think that something much deeper must be going on. jupiter wants to believe that the tsaritsa cant be simply evil and that perhaps she has some other, hidden motivation for her actions. having spent time with and got to know the fatui in liyue, they also know that not all of them are cartoonish bad guys

24. what do they think of the archons?

overall the concept of archons seems very new and intriguing to them. they do try to get as much information about their godhood out of venti and zhongli. they wonder whether this world really needs the archons as much as it claims to

25. what is the worst thing that could happen to your oc?

either losing their siblings or losing their memory (its a great fear of theirs)

26. what does your oc want the most?

their long term dream is to write down all the knowledge they’ve gathered so far and make it accessible and understandable to anyone willing to read it

[gotta-get-back-to-hatchetfield]

The Gang Peddles Horse Pills

It was a quiet morning in Paddy’s Pub when Dee, Charlie and Mac found themselves sat round the bar chatting, while Dennis poured them out shots as a reward for their hard labours of scaring off any potential customers.

Just as he was beginning to pour out another round of some forgotten, nasty liqueur they had ordered for Halloween several years back, Frank Reynolds walked into the bar with a wide grin on his face and a literal skip in his step.

"What are you so happy about?" asked Dee, as he dragged round a stool to sit with them.

"I just came up with a brilliant scheme that's gonna make us a boat load of cash!” Frank announced expecting excited faces and rapturous applause, but instead was met with sighs and eye rolls.

“So I accidentally bought a bunch of these pills called Ivermectin off my friend Duncan,” he began to explain, undeterred by their scepticism, “I was trying to buy cocaine, it’s a long story, but anyway there I am thinking what the hell am I gonna do with all this crap, and then it hit me. You see I’ve been going around on all the local news stations and ‘free thinking’ podcasts, you know the sort, telling them that this shit cures covid but the liberal yahoos and deep state don’t want you to know about it, and people have started buying it like crazy. So, I bought up all the supply in town, now I control the prices and I am making big, big money off this thing.”

"Okay Frank, and what is this Ivermectin actually?" Dennis asked pointedly.

"Horse dewormer!” Frank answered as he helped himself to a shot from the bottle on the table, “yeh, you give it to horses to make them shit themselves. It’s really nasty stuff actually.”

"Frank, no one’s going to want to take a literal horse shit pill to cure coronavirus, when the vaccines are literally free,” Dee exclaimed turning back to her drink.

"Oh yeh wanna bet?” Frank turned to Charlie, who seemed more open to the concept than Dee and Dennis, largely because he’d been struggling to follow the conversation. “Hey Charlie, you wanna try some Ivermectin?” Frank asked.

"The horse stuff? Nah you're good man, I've already got a ton back home, I’m actually struggling to get through it all."

Dennis did a double take, as he was once again blown away by the state of his friends. "This is insane, Charlie do not take that stuff it doesn't cure covid and it’s almost certainly bad for you."

"Nah it’s fine man, I've been taking it for years now and once you get over the chest pain and excessive bleeding it’s actually a very positive experience."

"I'm sorry, you've been taking horse dewormer for years?!" Dennis snapped back, as Frank began to do a little jig and rub his hands with glee.

"Well yeh!” Charlie answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “You know how like ketamin is horse tranquiliser and that works really well on humans, I thought hey why not try out other horse medicine, and so far it’s worked out pretty well for me.” He looked at the ceiling with his brow furrowed in concentration before concluding, “you know maybe man is horse."

"Man is horse? What the fuck are you talking about Charlie!” Dennis retorted before taking a deep sigh to try and calm the rage of the golden god that was burning within him. “Okay just as long as we're all vaccinated and none of the rest of us are drinking horse dewormer," he looked pointedly at Charlie who simply shrugged, "then we should be fine, you are all vaccinated right?"

"No dude what the fuck of course I'm not," Mac answered looking disgusted at the very thought, causing Dee, who has been sitting next to him, to move over a stool to distance herself from him.

"What do you mean you're not vaccinated?" Dennis asked incredulously.

"Dude those things are really dangerous!"

"What are you talking about?” Dennis snapped back, “Is this about 5G because you definitely don't even know what that means."

“No they literally give you covid," Mac answered defiantly.

Dennis rolled his eyes, as he began to explain the very basic premise on which a vaccine operates. "Yes that is literally the whole point, they give you a weakened form of the virus so your immune system can learn how to fight it off, that's why I make a point to take every vaccine I can. The golden god must always have a perfect immune system, and thus I must consume that which would seek to destroy me so I may absorb its strength."

"No dude," Mac said shaking his head, "Vaccines give you covid because when you get a vaccine you are telling the lord you no longer trust his almighty power, thus incurring his wrath so that he may well see fit to smite you down with covid.”

Even Charlie seemed confused at this point as Dee responded, "well I don't even know where to begin with that one."

Frank sensed an opportunity to peddle his horse pills, so put his hand on Macs shoulder in order to exploit his weakness for fatherly affection. "Listen if you're worried about covid you can always take some Ivermectin to help make sure you're protected from God's wrath. Plus, I'll give you a discount if you can sign up a friend too.”

"So this is a pyramid scheme too now! Great!" Dennis exclaimed sarcastically.

"I don't know is that stuff safe?” Mac asked, “It is supposed to be for horses."

"Anything that's safe for horses is also safe for humans,” Frank reassured Mac “I used to have a friend who was a top lawyer, and he always used to say to me 'you know Frank, man is horse'." Mac still looked sceptical, so Frank added "Also, I heard it helps you build muscle.”

"Oh really, where can I sign up?" Mac responded instantly, looking around for a clipboard.

"Oh come on Frank that's my trick," Dennis declared smashing his hand against the table.

"You know what Mac?” Frank asked, ignoring Dennis and massaging Mac’s shoulder with his hand, “How would you feel about becoming a social media star?"

Mac, who craved validation from father figures above all else, grinned at the prospect as he excitedly confirmed his interest.

"Oh Mac come on, he's obviously just going to make you peddle his horse laxatives for him. And seriously Frank? The people don't want to see someone hideous like Mac, they want someone handsome and charismatic like me!"

"He'll play well with the evangelicals. Come on Mac, I've got us a 2pm slot, we better go and get ready,” Frank said as he dragged a very excited looking Mac out the door.

Dee moved back to her original seat, feeling relieved Mac and any germs he may have been carrying were now gone, as Dennis stared at the door they had left through with his lips pursed in anger.

"Okay whatever, and you two?” he asked turning his attention back to Dee and Charlie, “You two better be vaccinated, because I cannot have unvaccinated people running around threatening the golden god's immune system."

"Yeh of course I’m vaccinated," Dee said sounding affronted.

“Okay well I'm surprised the needle wasn't snapped by your stupid pointy bird bones. And what about you Charlie are you vaccinated?"

"Against what?" he asked innocently.

“I'm sorry, 'against what'?” Dee asked incredulously, “Charlie why do you think you’ve had to spend a year locked in the house with Frank?"

"I'm not sure, I saw something about people were trying to inject us with bleach so we had to stay inside so they couldn't get us, and maybe the nightman was behind it all or something."

"Charlie please tell me you have at some point this whole entire year watched the news?!" Dee asked in abject horror, as Dennis looked seconds away from giving up.

"Listen a lot of things happen on the news, I can't be expected to keep track of it all. Besides, it literally changes every day, so there’s not really any point watching it because tomorrow it’ll be about something different"

They both starred back at him blankly for a while, as Dee wondered why the hell she still hung out with these guys and several options for ways to graphically murder him passed through Dennis’ mind.

"You are going to get vaccinated now, and I don't want to see you back here until you've done it." Dennis declared, as Charlie began to walk towards the door.

He paused looking back in confusion, so Dennis said, “Go on, shoo!” as he and Dee mimed shooing gestures, and Charlie tentatively made his way out of Paddy’s Pub in search of a vaccine.

[hazzastylesfanfics]

Part 1/?

i’m back bitches

the maddness & boredom of this pandemic have finally hit so naturally i sat down to write for the first time in seven years .....

tell me if it’s shit/if i should continue !!

k thanks love u all <3

239 days. 239 days since him.

1 day. 1 day since him.

Some days I wonder if fate is real. I wonder if there really is a so-called “god” up there. Maybe there really is a divine power running my life, or maybe it’s all just one big shit show I’m struggling to keep together.

It’s 2 a.m. and I’m still pointlessly scrolling through Instagram looking at the same posts I’ve seen already. I open my profile and scroll through. Pictures of me posing with my friends, at wineries, and drunk nights out fill my feed. There’s no mention of him. I finally brought myself to delete them a few months back. I lock my phone and close my eyes. Sleep soon overtakes me.

The morning arrives far too early for my liking. Charlie is biting my hair, demanding her breakfast. I grab my phone to check the time: 5 a.m. I groan and pull the covers over my head hoping she’ll leave me alone. I just about fall back asleep when I hear a crash.

“Charlie, seriously?!” I sit up to see she’s shoved a candle off of my windowsill onto the ground and shattered it. “I swear to god, I’m gonna release you back into the wild,” I grumble.

She meows at me frantically until I give in and feed her. The thing they don’t tell you about getting a kitten is the fact you no longer run your life, the little spawn from hell does. She’s lucky she’s cute. I quickly sweep up the remains of my candle and fall back into bed.

Two hours later my alarm clock rudely awakens me for work. I feel like I’ve barely slept and one glance in the mirror confirms that feeling. A quick shower wakes me up just enough to drag my ass out the door.

I see my bus pulling away from my stop and frantically run toward it, shouting at the driver to stop. Maybe because it’s pouring rain or maybe because I look so distraught, but the driver takes pity on me and lets me hop on. I thank her as I sit in the nearest open seat. I’ve already been late to work three times in the past month and I can’t let Lana cover for me again.

The bus ride is a short one to the little coffee shop I’ve called work for over a year. It’s locally owned and loved by hipsters all around. I still wonder how I managed to get the job since I barely fit the bill of the “alternative” type that work alongside me. Lana was my first friend there. If you searched “Portland native” online, a picture of her would pop up. She’s adorable and dainty, covered in random tattoos she gets when she’s bored. She just dyed her hair blonde and cut her own blunt bangs. Her nose is decorated with a ring that she drunkenly tried to pierce herself, but I convinced her otherwise. She wears whatever the hell she feels like and exudes confidence in it all. She has the type of personality that draws you in but keeps you just enough at a distance to shroud her in mystery. I love the girl as much as I envy her.

We arrive at my stop and I thank the driver as I exit the bus. It’s still pouring so I run the two blocks to get to work. I see Lana happily chatting to a customer as I walk through the front door to the back room.

“Morning, Grey!” She chirps at me.

I drop my bag where there’s space and wash my hands before heading back out front.

“Jesus, girl, you look like hell,” Lana says as she thrusts a double espresso into my hands. “Rough night?”

“I was stuck with my own thoughts again.” I take a sip. It tastes more bitter than usual. “Also, Charlie decided my candle was much better in multiple pieces on the floor at 5 a.m.”

She laughs. “You still feel good about taking a stray in?”

“She was lonely and needed a home, okay?”

“Sucker,” Lana mumbles before turning her attention to the customer walking up to the front counter.

Thursday mornings always pass by fairly quickly. Customers are buzzing about Friday fast approaching, so most are in a pleasant mood. No amount of espresso can wake me up though. Some days I prefer zoning out and making drinks, especially days like this. Interactions with customers take it out of me. I don’t know how Lana does it so well.

“Erm, yeah, I’ll take a small black coffee, please.”

His voice instantly takes me out of my daydreams. That smooth, slow voice. I glance over at the register to see Lana helping the same guy that had captivated me two days earlier. Those chocolate brown curls look even softer than when I saw him in the bookstore. How the hell was that even possible? I stare for so long the milk I am steaming overflows onto my hand, burning me and eliciting a yelp. Lana and this beautiful man both turn their attention toward me. I laugh it off nervously and mumble something about being clumsy. Lana turns her attention back to the man, but he doesn’t break his gaze from me. He holds eye contact for another brief moment before thanking Lana for his coffee and dropping money into the tip jar. I am frozen in place, well aware that I need to stop staring like a fool.

I often visited Powell’s on my days off. It wasn’t hard to spend hours upon hours among the books, exploring each floor of the store. I rarely bought anything; I mostly came for the experience. I loved the smell of a new book. A thrill always came with picking up a random one and delving into what it had to offer between its two covers.

I was doing just that in the World Religions section when I heard his voice.

“Excuse me.”

My eyes snapped up from the current title intriguing me. There he was, clearly trying to get by me. I had absentmindedly parked myself in the middle of the aisle making it impossible for anyone to pass me. My ears grew hot as I mumbled an apology and took a step back.

He laughed lightly and glanced at the book in my hands. “Buddhism, huh? Let me know when you figure out the secret to enlightenment.” He chuckled again.

This is when I really got a good look at him. He was tall with lanky arms and legs to match, and a torso that looked like it never ended. He was wearing a tight black T-shirt that revealed many, many tattoos decorating his arms. My eyes instantly locked in on an anchor inked on the top of his left wrist. My exploration led me down to his hands, adorned with multiple rings. Finally, I brought my eyes up to his face. My god, did it take my breath away. His jaw was sharp and covered in stubble. His brunette curls sat atop his head in an impossibly perfect way. His smile though. I nearly dropped my book. If I believed in angels, they would have been singing at that moment.

I made a weak attempt at laughing and stumbled over my words, but nothing that resembled English came out of my mouth.

He flashed an even brighter smile and said, “Let me know if you need any recommendations.” And just like that, he turned the corner and disappeared. I didn’t realize I had been holding my breath until my chest started to hurt from the lack of air to my lungs. I bought the book in my hands and hurried out of the store.

He consumed my thoughts well into the night.

Now, as if a gift from the heavens above, this god is standing in my workplace. I suddenly become very aware of my lack of makeup and haphazard bun.

He catches my eyes once more before turning away from the register and walking out the front door. He was gone. I just let this act of god walk out the door and I would never see him again.

“Um, earth to Grey?” Lana playfully pokes me in the ribs.

“Huh, what? Shit.”

“You need me to finish up that cappuccino there?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” I robotically step back from the espresso machine and let her take over. She finishes the drink in less than a minute and apologizes to the visibly impatient customer as she hands it over the bar.

Lana turns to me. “Okay, what the hell was that?”

I stand with my mouth hanging open, still trying to grasp the past five minutes. “Well, long story short I think I royally fucked up letting that guy walk out the door.”

“You’re telling me, babe, he was gorgeous. Do you know him?” I detect a hint of jealously in her voice.

“No, uh, not really. We had a short interaction at Powell’s a couple of days ago but it was nothing. I made a fool out of myself more than anything.”

“And how do you think you did this time around?” Her laugh rings in my ears.

“Okay, in my defense he ambushed me at my workplace so that is not my fault!” I huff. “You weren’t much help either,” I point out.

“What was I supposed to do?” She is still laughing.

“I don’t know,” I mumble. “He was staring too though, right? That wasn’t my own delusion?”

“Oh yeah, babe he was staring alright. He looked like he wanted to take you right then and there on the counter.”

I bite my lip. That didn’t sound like half a bad idea. My ears grow hot at the thought.

I feel a gentle pinch on my arm and flinch away. “Hello! Grey! Hate to interrupt your fantasy but we have customers.” I glance over her shoulder to see a small line has built up.

Three o’clock finally rolls around and I’m free. Lana had gotten off an hour earlier than me, but couldn’t stay to talk more. My thoughts are too preoccupied with that handsome stranger to be much company anyway. The manic side of me wants to walk straight to Powell’s in hopes he would be there. I get ahold of myself however and make my way back to my apartment.

Charlie greets me with vigor the second I walk through the door. She seems to have gotten this idea that whenever I come home means dinnertime for her. When I don’t give in, she destroys shit. Exhibit A: this morning. It’s not like she’s starving. My neighbor had discovered this little kitty outside of the apartment complex one morning while taking her dog for a walk. The landlord only allows one animal per apartment, so she couldn’t keep her. At the time, Charlie practically sprouted angel wings and a halo so I couldn’t say no. A week into having her revealed her true nature: demon. She’s into everything all. of. the. time. She frequently digs the dirt out of my houseplants and eats it. Her favorite game is launching herself onto the screens in my windows to attack bugs. She even tries to shower with me. Despite her faults though, I can’t help but love her. Living by myself can be lonely. I find myself trying to have full conversations with her sometimes shortly before questioning my sanity.

I change into an oversized band tee and settle onto the brown leather sofa in my living room. Charlie jumps up beside me, purring loudly. I pull the yellow blanket neatly folded next to me onto my lap and try to shut my brain off. The rest of my shift exhausted me and thinking about that guy did not help much. I have to accept the fact that fate was really doing me a solid and in return, I gave it the finger. This beautiful stranger entered my life twice in 48 hours and I didn’t do a damn thing about it. Charlie climbs into my lap and curls into a ball, content.

I wake up hours later to a dark apartment. One glance at my phone reveals I dozed off longer than I intended to. Miraculously, Charlie let me sleep through her dinner. The moment she notices I am awake, she starts yowling at me for dinner. I oblige with a small scoop of food in her bowl. I then venture to the fridge and heat up leftover pasta for my meal. I sit at the small table in my narrow kitchen and stare out the window. My view isn’t much - just a look onto my neighbors’ balconies who also live in this complex. I make a mental note that the plants on the windowsill need water. I rinse out my bowl and leave it in the sink, not bothered to do the dishes tonight. I’m exhausted and welcome the softness of my bed.

I open the next morning and it feels like actual hell when my alarm goes off at 4:30. Charlie loves days I’m up this early though, she gets an early breakfast. I don’t bother to change out of the band tee I slept in and pull on a pair of ripped denim shorts. True to Oregon’s style, today is supposed to be a direct contrast of the previous day: blue skies and sunny. Summers in Portland never fail to keep me on my toes. I quickly fix my hair into messy French braid pigtails on either side of my head and throw on a coat of mascara for good measure.

I never have an issue with opening during the summer. The sun has risen enough that there is a soft morning light to guide me on my walk to the bus stop. Winters freak out because it’s pitch black and weird people ride the bus this early in the morning.

The shop is dark when I arrive. I turn my key in the lock, step in, and lock it behind me. The one time I forgot to do this, a homeless person wandered in and refused to leave. He didn’t want anything, just continued to have a conversation with himself. I always make sure to double-check the door now. I turn on the lights and flip on the espresso machine. I set up the freshly baked pastries in the front case in an attractive manner. Just as I open the register to count the till I hear a tap on the front door. I don’t look up. It’s either a customer trying to come in early or another homeless person. I quietly count each bill out loud, enter the opening total, and tap “open” on the screen. Again, I hear a knock on the door. I look up in irritation. Whoever thinks they need their coffee this early in the morning can wait another 15 minutes until I formally open the doors.

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck.

It’s him.

[lena-in-a-red-dress]

After a busy competition day I am back home in my pjs so buckle up kids, because it is finally time for

FISH SHENANIGANS!!!!

So you know how Slick has been losing-growing-losing his new fin growth, even though his water parameters were all perfect? Well, I finally decided that it must be some kind of weird interaction between my hard water and his plastic decor that must be leeching a chemical I couldn’t test for into the water, and took out all the fake stuff to switch him over to an all-natural set up.

He got some mossed-up spiderwood and some water lettuce, giving him this:

Well, a few days in, a fungal bloom starts up. Not anything harmful to the fish or the plants, in fact, bettas will even eat the stuff if they feel like it. I didn’t even mind the look of it, because I’m down for some haunted spiderwood:

I’d planned to just let it go away naturally, because I figured with the moss on there it’d just do more harm than good to get rid of it manually. But what the fish sites didn’t mention was the smell. After a few weeks, it was absolutely rank, right? So I opt for a more natural solution: algae eaters!

It’s a five gallon tank, so additional fish wasn’t an option, but one snail and one shrimp? Totally doable. So, I come home with a zebra nerite snail, an amano shrimp, and a new betta (don’t ask). 

Well, I acclimate everyone, and introduce snail and shrimp to Slick’s tank. Snail doesn’t even make it to the substrate before he’s sucking algae off the side of the tank, so he’s in snail heaven, and the amano immediately goes to town on the fungus bloom. Operation Fungus Bloom is successfully under way!

Knowing some bettas can be aggressive towards newcomers, I intended to keep a close eye on them, but once Slick looked like he wasn’t interested in either of his new roommates, I got distracted setting up new guy’s tank. I check in on Slick and Co. maybe an hour later and... no shrimp. There is absolutely zero sign of the amano and Slick is fat. Capital F-A-T fat. 

One look at that bloated belly tells me exactly what happened: my sweet baby boy murdered and consumed an innocent shrimp. He is a shrimp-killer. And he has the AUDACITY to act hungry the next morning, like he hadn’t just had five meals worth of shrimp the night before. 

It’s not the end of the world, circle of life and what not, and the snail is slowly cruising through the fungus bloom just fine, so we may not need a shrimp anyway. Except that it’s taking FOREVER and my moss is turning brown and dead, which I attribute to the bloom.

So I reckon it’s worth trying one more time. If I feed Slick a little bit more before I introduce the shrimp, he’ll be too full to manage any mischief, and this time I’ll acclimate and add the shrimp in the dark, so he probably won’t even see them, right? Right.

Thus-- Plan B for Better. I get another snail (because snails are cheap and cool), and two more amano shrimp (in case Slick takes out one, the other might survive longer to become part of the territory). And then on the way home I start panicking because what if the spiderwood just didn’t provide enough nooks and crannies for the shrimp to hide in?? So I go to my local fish store and get some live plants-- an anubias, and an aponogeton. 

I have it all planned out: I’ll get the plants out of their rock wool and into their alum bath before I skate that evening, then when I get back I’ll only have to do the water change, plant, and then acclimate before adding shrimpies. Well-- the rock wool took way too long to take off before skating, so I had to leave it until I got home, then soaked them, which meant I didn’t actually get to planting the tank until midnight.

Halfway through the water change-- at the point where the water has been drained and I’m about to start planting-- I hear a little bloop! of something dropping from the filter outtake to the water below. Not unusual-- some of the water lettuce gets caught on the lip and slides off. Except... there is no water lettuce where I heard the bloop. Keep in mind that everything is turned off at this point, and with no filter going there is no current. Nothing should have moved except Slick, who is on the far side of the tank. 

But the only haunted thing about my tank is the spiderwood, so I brush it off and start planting. Then, on the far side of the tank, there’s a little splish of something flipping in the water. And by then, Slick had come over to check out the new plants, so I’m just ‘???’ and go investigate, and---

OH. MY.

FUCKING.

GOD.

It’s the SHRIMP. The shrimp. The OG shrimp. The one I thought my precious baby boy had eaten! He was alive the whole time just playing the most winningest game of hide and seek ever, like a fucking ASSHOLE.

Look at him!! Our very own Gone Girl has been gorging himself on algae that isn’t even the fungus bloom-- you can see it along the entire length of his muddy brown innards. At this point I shouted some not nice words at 12:30 in the morning and it’s the most un-neighborly behavior I’ve ever exhibited and it took every ounce of willpower not to call every one I know in the middle of the to tell them that the poor murdered shrimp I’d been telling them about is actually a double-jeopardy’ing bastard of an invertebrate.

And what’s worse is that I had found a molt just a few days earlier, but because I still hadn’t seen the actual shrimp in TWO WEEKS I convinced myself that it was just the corpse having been disturbed and that Slick had clearly somehow just... slurped the insides out of it???

So-- that is the story of my dumb ass stumbling into somehow creating an enriching home for my falsely accused, innocent fish son. His tank is now fully planted, and is shared with THREE SHRIMP and two snails. And oh-- his fins are looking beautiful.

[msjr0119]

Trouble

This is a one shot for my bestie @pedudley 😘

Happy Birthday Babe!!!!! See you tomorrow for celebrations 🥳

Characters belong to Pixelberry apart from Willow who is Paige’s OC. Freya is my main character in one of my series.

Warnings: One DRUNK character (based on my drunken antics as an 18year old) swearing, and Drillow smut 🔥

*****

In Cordonia, the gang had decided to go on a vacation to the US- Drake was half American and Freya grew up in the New York even though she was English. After much deliberation they agreed to go to Texas.

“Oh I have an old college friend from Texas, I think she lives in the part we will be staying in. It’s her birthday whilst we will be there. I’ll contact her ask if she wants to hang out?” Freya suggested excitedly.

******

It was Willow’s birthday, she had been in contact with her college friend Freya about meeting up for a catch up. Freya had been gallivanting around Europe and Willow was intrigued to hear about the stories.

Making her way to the location that she had agreed to meet at with Freya- she was slightly nervous, as Freya had dropped the bombshell that some of her new friends would be ‘tagging’ along. Arranging to meet up at a local bar - Willow scanned the room hoping to see a familiar face. With no avail, she headed up to the bar- she asked for a few shots to give her that bit of dutch courage. She was an outgoing type of person, but she hadn’t seen Freya in years.

“Surprise!!!” Turning around she recognised that familiar voice.

“Freya!”

“Happy birthday babe. Next rounds on me.”

“Thanks. Where are the tag alongs?”

“Oh, they are sat in the vip area. I’ll introduce you in a minute. I can already tell that tonight is going to get messy!”

Walking over to the VIP area, Willow believed the tourists were going all out for their time in Texas- the vip area was only generally used for; special birthdays, hens/stags or celebrities.

“Guys, this is my friend Willow. It’s her birthday today so all be nice or I’ll get Liv to stab each and every one of you.”

Willows eyes widened- surely she’s joking. She can’t be friends with serial killers?

“Willow, this is; Liam my other half, Maxwell my adopted brother, crazy ass bitch Olivia, sweet loveable Hana and over there is grumpy Drake.”

Willow nervously waved and said hello. Freya noticed that Drake’s usual persona had changed as he couldn’t take his eyes off Willow. Feeling slightly jealous that he never returned her feelings during Liam’s social season- she had hoped that he wouldn’t be a jerk towards Willow like he was with her.

“Hey Lo, are you okay? You and Drake are providing each other with fuck me eyes.”

“I am not!”

“Yes you are. I don’t blame you. I thought I was in love with him but he never looked at me like that. You should talk to him.”

Willow raised her eyebrows at her friend, secretly she was providing him with those looks- but she didn’t want to cause a drift in case Freya still had feelings. Sitting next to him, she decided to start off with small talk- talking wouldn’t do any harm she thought.

“So why does she refer you as the grumpy one?”

“I’m not grumpy. Well I am at times. But it depends what type of person I’m with.”

“Oh?”

“Those lot are all nobles, Liam’s a Prince. Not really my thing. I’m just the commoner.”

“Stop with the self pity- come and dance with me?”

“I can’t dance.”

“I’ll teach you.” Drake gulped as he looked at her natural loose hair and curves in the form fitting dress she wore. The flecks of gold in her brown eyes and freckles that surrounded her nose and cheeks made her look adorable- he thought about maybe risking himself looking like a fool to spend a bit of time with the beautiful stranger. Freya coughed whilst giving him the dagger eyes, encouraging him to dance. Willow dragged him on to the dance floor, before the others followed suit. Noticing that he was a bit stiff, she decided to press her back against his muscled chest and grind along him- forcing his hand to go around her waist. Liam noticed that Drake had come out of his shell, and smiled at him. Spinning Willow around so she was facing him, her eyes sparkled.

“This type of dancing is better than what they do. I’m not into all the fancy Waltzing.” He whispered. Throwing her arms around him, their foreheads touched- Drake felt the urge to kiss her, maybe it was due to the alcohol? Gently placing her lips on to his, the slow kiss soon turned passionate. Drake looked sheepishly at her, wondering if he had crossed the line.

“Well Drake, I’ll class that as a birthday kiss then? Thank you. Thank you for the dance.”

“Yeah something like that. You’re beautiful. I didn’t mean to say that... I Erm.”

“Did anyone tell you how cute you are when you’re flustered and nervous?” Looking over towards Freya, he remembered her saying the same exact words. Feeling guilty with how he treat her, he wasn’t going to do the same mistake again.

“Do you want a drink?” He asked changing the subject due to the awkward situation. Willow nodded, not wanting for the night to end. At first she was nervous about meeting the strangers - now she wanted to get to know them better and show her true personality.

*****

Everyone became intoxicated apart from Willow and Drake who had slowed their drinking down- getting to know each other. He found out that she liked to draw, showing an interest in her hobby- he knew that she was talented. His forte was being able to drink whiskey- now wishing he could better himself. They also both had a common factor- being brought up on the ranch life in Texas. Willow excused herself as she went to the bathroom, Maxwell slid over next to Drake grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

“What do you want Beaumont?”

“Do I want anything? Why do you always assume the worse of me? I’m rooting for team Drillow.”

“Drillow? Are you serious? We’ve only just met.”

“But that kiss is what Kiara would describe as magnifique. You should invite her back to the hotel- you know what they say... what happens in Texas stays in Texas.”

“That’s Vegas you dumbass!”

“What’s Vegas?” Willow interrupted, as she returned to the table.

“Nothing Drillow.” Max winked as he moonwalked away from the awkward situation that he had caused.

“Oh nothing Willow, Maxwell wondered if you wanted to come back to the hotel with us all to finish the party? I think they are all ready to leave shortly.”

“Sure. Let’s do some shots before we leave. It’s my birthday after all!”

*****

After consuming so many shots in the limited amount of time- Willow felt slightly tipsy, invincible and in the mood for causing some mischief. Deciding to attempt at breakdancing on the floor, she took a stumble on a spilt drink lingering on the sticky floor- falling over laughing hysterically she realised that she had pulled another women down with her. The woman’s boyfriend attempted to help them up, but willow slipped again- pulling the woman’s hair. Once they both stood up regaining their balance- the woman snatched the bits of her weave out of Willow’s hand- “Shit happens get over it. Or go to a better hairdressers!” Freya ran over, forcing Willow away - suggesting that they escape before someone beat the shit out of her.

Exiting the bar- Willow dared them all to steal a glass of some sort. None of the others dare do it.

“You’re all wimps. Come on liven up! You’re on vacation.” Running out of the bar with a glass in her hand- Drake knew she was going to get into trouble. Freya placed a comforting arm on him.

“Don’t worry- she’s always like it. It’s not the worse thing she’s done when she’s been drunk.” Drakes eyes widened wondering what else she was capable of. She’s going to be trouble.

Walking out of the bar doors, they heard a smash- seeing Willow attempting to pick up the shattered glass of the floor. Drake picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder before she caused any injury to herself- they didn’t want to spend part of their vacation in ER. The bouncer looked furious at the friends- Maxwell apologised on behalf using Liam’s status to their full advantage. Olivia on the other hand, threatened for her daggers to come out and play- making the bouncer back off from shouting at the tourists. Hana fluttered her eyelashes, speaking calmly and politely like the typical noble stereotype that she was brought up to learn.

“Drake put me down I’m going to be sick.”

Putting her down, he was willing to hold her beautiful long light coloured hair back to avoid it becoming contaminated with sick. Before anyone could escape- projectile sick splattered everywhere, mainly all over the bouncer. Grabbing Drakes hand, “I feel better now. Run!!!”

Running away from the bar, they all stopped once it was out of view. Drake let go of her hand knowing they were all safe- all trying to regain their breath. Not noticing that Willow had slipped away from the circle they were stood in.

“And this guys is why Willow was my best friend at college! Surprised she hasn’t picked up some random item like a traffic cone yet.”

“Er Freya... I think you spoke too soon.” Liam pointed over to where Willow was stood attempting to carry a traffic cone- failing miserably she sat on it instead and fell off, now risking a head injury along with the previous “slicing her finger” antic.

“For fuck sake...” Freya muttered, before escorting the others over to the drunk Texan.

“Guys let’s grab some food before we head back.” Willow said, barely able to walk- staggering about along the cold pavement.

“Oh dear god no.” The friends looked at Freya wondering why she would say that. Entering the takeaway, Willow stood up on one of the tables where people were already sat. Knocking over their drinks, as she stumbled- she apologised many times, before attempting to wipe up the residue with the people’s burgers and fries and the women’s clutch bags. After the liquid wasn’t cleaned up, she laid on the table legs swinging in the air whilst eating the food she had stolen. Freya dragged Willow off the table abruptly, explaining to the people that she really is a nice girl and that she would replace their food. “Hey waitress! I want a cheeseburger without the cheese please but with extra pickles. I’ll love you forever!” “You mean a hamburger then Lo. And you don’t even like pickles. Let’s get you a coffee at the hotel instead.” “No Frey, I mean a fucking god damn cheeseburger without the cheese. I may have decided to like pickles all of a sudden.” Drake sniggered at her, he found her hilarious. She was definitely hard work. Freya suggested that one of the men carried willow back to the hotel- not only for her own safety but for everyone’s safety.

****

Once arriving at the hotel, Drake sat her at the table in his room. Pouring her a black coffee- hoping she would sober up soon. He had never laughed as much on a night out- seeing her dimple every time she laughed made his heart fill with joy.

“You guys are no fun.”

“We can be. Sometimes. I think you’re just unique Willow.”

“And you Drake Walker, are not a grump. Freya doesn’t know what she’s talking about. Thank you for coming. I’ve had a brilliant night.”

“So have I.”

“You should come to Texas more often.”

“I may do- my mom lives here. And I’d like to see you again.” Before Drake could react Willow pulled him up off his chair- Pulling his face towards her she passionately kissed him. She had sobered up slightly but his kiss made her feel intoxicated. Holding tightly onto Willow’s waist, he pulled away- looking at her adoringly for a brief moment before capturing her lips, sliding his tongue across her lips, she opened her mouth allowing it to enter- he tasted a fusion of alcohol. Both getting lost in the kiss, it was as if the world had melted away. Moving her hair to the side, he kissed her neck- all she could feel was his hot breath, before he moved the kisses slowly down to her shoulder.

Undoing his shirt buttons, slowly as she admired his toned body- she bit her bottom lip. Roaming her finger along his muscles, she didn’t know how to react. Natural instinct told Drake he was getting lucky with the beautiful woman stood in front of him- removing his trousers, she gawked at the bulge on show. Guiding his hand towards her zip, she wanted him to strip her- slowly he pulled the zipper down allowing her dress to fall gracefully down to the floor. Drake couldn’t grasp how lucky he was - his heart began to flutter. Leading her over to the bed, whilst unclipping her bra- she willingly followed. Laying down, she pulled him onto her leading into another passionate kiss- his hand wandered towards her clit abruptly stopping. “Can I?” He asked, hoping she wouldn’t reject him. “Please Drake.” That was all he needed to know, removing her knickers- he felt at how damp she was already. Returning to her clit, he teased it moving his calloused fingers in tantalising circles- arching her back she couldn’t contain her moans. Encouraging Drake to insert his fingers due to her pleasure, he pumped them harder and faster. “Are you enjoying it?” “Yes. I need more, please.” Removing his fingers, he licked her juice off them seductively- before moving his tongue to her pussy lips. Tasting her made him want her more. He had never believed in love at first sight but this was something. Licking her folds, he heard her unable to control her orgasms- boosting his ego that he knew how to treat a lady.

Willow remained sprawled out as Drake, worked his way up her body, kissing every inch. His tongue licked and sucked her nipples- creating them to become more peaked, before crashing his lips on hers. Reaching for his manhood, he shook his head- “tonight is about you, it’s your birthday. What do you want?” “You. I want you, Drake. Inside me. Don’t tease me anymore.” Lining himself up, he slowly pushed himself into her - allowing for her to adjust to his size, he began with slow yet deep thrusts. The trusts eventually increased in speed due to Willow’s reactions, both moaning- both breathing in unison. Her body trembling constantly, as she released multiple times. She could feel his cock pulsate as his hot seed spilled inside her. Laying next to her, he held her hand, attempting to slow their breathing down after the passion they had both encountered. Turning towards her, he cupped her cheeks- forcing her to turn her gaze towards him.

“Happy birthday trouble.”

[mittensmorgul]

The End

Yes, we have 5.04, the episode titled The End, with the whole end!verse, but every time this phrase pops up in the show since then, I think this is the first thought a lot of people have. And I think it’s... wildly misleading. I mean, since we haven’t actually had a return to this specific “end.” And I don’t think we ever will. As everyone will recall, the show did not actually end after 5.04.

So to that end (pffft), I wanted to cobble together a history of the phrase as it’s been used throughout canon. Just for my own reference purposes. Here’s the big ones, though:

5.22 Swan Song:

CHUCK types "THE END" and takes a drink.  CHUCK: No doubt – endings are hard. But then again... nothing ever really ends, does it? 

(spoiler alert: fuck you, Chuck)

11.22: We Happy Few:

AMARA: My brother will dim and fade away into nothing. (Outside, ROWENA staggers to her feet. The sunlight is no longer just rosy, tinting the sky purple.) AMARA: But not until he sees what comes next. Not until he watches this world, everything he created, everything he loves turn to ash. (Outside, ROWENA turns, lifting a hand to shield her eyes.) AMARA: Welcome to the end. (She disappears.)

(lol, bzzzt, wrong, try again)

13.23 Let The Good Times Roll:

CASTIEL (to Michael): How do we stop him? MICHAEL: You don't. After consuming the Nephilim's grace, Lucifer's juiced up. He's super-charged. He'll kill the boy, your brother. Hell, he could end the whole universe if he put his mind to it. And you thought I was bad. DEAN: No. No, you beat him. I saw you. MICHAEL: When he was weaker, and I was stronger. Believe me, I'd love to rip my brother apart. But now in this banged up meatsuit... not happening. This is the end, of everything.

(way to horrifically manipulate the situation!)

14.20 Moriah:

CHUCK: (angrily): Fine! That's the way you want it? Story's over. Welcome to  The End.

(cue things happening for another 20 episodes... he’s 20 episodes too soon)

and since there were *a LOT* of results:

yes each one of those open tabs is a reference page I’m pulling quotes from, and yes there are so many open tabs they’ve blurred together. one big drawback about watching a show that has apocalypses every now and again. i’m omitting references that aren’t directly about narrative ends, too (like casual “at the end of the day” references and the like). this is gonna be long so it’s going under a cut:

2.22 All Hell Breaks Loose: Part Two:

YED Oh, Jake. It's got to be you. I've been waiting for you for a very long time. You're my leader. You open that crypt, and you will have your army. JAKE You're talking about the end of the world. YED No, not the end— the beginning... a better world, where your family will be protected. More than that. They'll be royalty. Buddy boy, you have the chance to get in on the ground floor of a thrilling opportunity. Whaddya say? It's your call.

(spoiler alert: pffft... the whole “Demon Army” thing was always a sham, I think pulled ON Azazel by Lilith, even if that was only retconned in later in canon. but also, endings are beginnings, the spiral loops ever onward, and it’s laughable now eleventynine loops of the spiral down the way from this moment, isn’t it? Jake who? Azazel the fanatic who wasn’t even trustworthy enough to be let in on Lilith’s real plans? Incredible)

4.05 Monster Movie:

DEAN: You think "elegance" is really the word for what you did to Marissa, or Rick Deacon, or any of the others?! DRACULA: But of course. It is a monster movie, after all. DEAN: You do realize what happens at the end of every monster movie? DRACULA: Ah, but this movie is mine. And in it, the monster wins. The monster gets the girl. And the hero, he’s... electrocuted. And tonight, Jonathan Harker, you will be my hero.

(spoiler alert: the monster does not win)

4.06 Yellow Fever:

Sam: So uh...so, what did you see? Near the end, I mean. Dean: Oh, besides a cop beating my ass? Sam: Seriously. Dean: Howler monkeys. Whole roomful of them. Those things creep the hell out of me. Sam: Right. Dean: No, just the usual stuff, Sammy. Nothing I can’t handle.

(spoiler alert: it was definitely not anything Dean could handle)

4.09 I Know What You Did Last Summer:

ANNA: Look... I get it. You think I'm nuts. If I were you, I'd think I was nuts. But it's all true. PSYCHOLOGIST: It's okay. You can tell me. I'm here to listen. ANNA: The end... is coming. The apocalypse. PSYCHOLOGIST: The apocalypse. Like in the Bible? ANNA: Kind of. I mean, same bottom line. This demon, Lilith, is trying to break the 66 seals to free Lucifer from Hell. Lucifer... Will bring the apocalypse. So... Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

(spoiler alert:... we know how this turned out)

4.15 Death Takes a Holiday:

DEAN: You know what I mean. We're talking the end of the world here, okay? No more tasseled leather pants, no more Ramones CDs, no more nothing.

(spoiler alert: Pamela’s cool with that since she’ll get an endless show at the Meadowlands in her personal heaven)

4.22 Lucifer Rising:

DEAN: But me and Sam, we can stop... (he cuts off, having an epiphany) You don't want to stop it, do you? ZACHARIAH: Nope. Never did. The end is nigh. The apocalypse is coming, kiddo, to a theater near you.

(spoiler alert... it bombed at the box office)

5.02: Good God, Y’all:

Dean: Listen, Chuckles, even if there is a God, he is either dead—and that's the generous theory— Castiel: He is out there, Dean. Dean: Or he's up and kicking and doesn't give a rat's ass about any of us. I mean, look around you, man. The world is in the toilet. We are literally at the end of days here, and he's off somewhere drinking booze out of a coconut. All right?

(spoiler alert: i mean he really wasn’t far off the mark was he...)

5.03 Free To Be You And Me:

REPORTER: —the town of Tully? tonight, John. Locals say that what started as a torrential hailstorm late this afternoon suddenly turned to massive lightning strikes that triggered the fires now consuming more than twenty acres here along the Route 17 corridor. County officials are advising all Tully residents to prepare for what could become mandatory evacuations. The BARTENDER shuts the TV off. BARTENDER: Damn. Is it me or does it seem like it's the end of the world? SAM looks away.

(spoiler alert: that was an observant bartender)

5.07 The Curious Case of Dean Winchester:

A WOMAN, MRS. XAVIER, is reading the Weekly World News, headline: "LEADING PSYCHICS AGREE: THE APOCALYPSE IS HERE! Experts confirm the end is upon us!" She chuckles. The door opens.

(spoiler alert: that time the Weekly World News was actually right)

5.08 Changing Channels:

Dean: Hey there, Sam. What's happening? Sam: Oh, nothing. Um. Just the end of the world.

(spoiler alert: lol)

5.09 The Real Ghostbusters:

CHUCK: Ok, Ok, just..okay, it's okay. so, next question. (hands shoot up) Yeah, you. FAN: Yeah, at the end of the last book, Dean goes to hell. So, what happens next?

(spoiler alert:  how do you feel about angels? Yeah, because let me tell you, they're not nearly as lame as you think.)

5.11 Sam Interrupted:

Dean: It's the end of the world, okay? I mean, it's a damn Biblical Apocalypse, and if I don't stop it and save everyone, then no one will, and we all die. Dr. Cartwright: That's horrible. Dean: Yeah, tell me about it. Dr. Cartwright: I mean, Apocalypse or no Apocalypse... monsters or no monsters, that's a crushing weight to have on your shoulders. To feel like six billion lives depend on you...God...how do you get up in the morning? Dean: That's a good question.

(spoiler alert: this is actually Dean talking to himself)

5.17 99 Problems:

SAM : Busy night? PAUL: I’m telling you, since The End started, it’s been like one long last call. That round’s on me. 

(spoiler alert: welcome to the apocalypse, pull up a bar stool)

DEAN: We’re all gonna die, Sam. In like a month—maybe two. I mean it. This is the end of the world, but these people aren’t freaking out. In fact they’re running to the exit in an orderly fashion. I don’t know that that’s such a bad thing. SAM: Who says they’re all gonna die? What ever happened to us saving them?

(spoiler alert: hey remember that other time Dean went all nihilistic about the end of the world? yeah good times)

DEAN: So the demons smoking out—that’s just a con? Why? What’s the endgame? CASTIEL: What you just saw—innocent blood spilled in God’s name. SAM: You heard all that heaven talk. She manipulates people. DEAN: To slaughter and kill and sing preppy little hymns. Awesome. CASTIEL: Her goal is to condemn as many souls to hell as possible. And it’s…just beginning. She’s well on her way to dragging this whole town into the pit. 

(remember the whore of babylon’s MO? manipulating people into doing stuff they never would’ve out of fear? yeah)

LEAH: This is why my team’s gonna win. You’re the great vessel? You’re pathetic, self-hating, and faithless. It’s the end of the world. And you’re just gonna sit back and watch it happen. DEAN grabs the stake, punches LEAH, and stakes her. DEAN : Don’t be so sure, whore.

(remember that time the whore of babylon taunted Dean about rejecting his destiny as the vessel of Michael, basically trying to manipulate him into doing the thing? And then he tried to go out and do the thing in the next episode but Cas stopped him? yeah good times)

5.18 Point Of No Return:

PREACHER : The end is nigh! The apocalypse is upon us! The angels talk to me, and they asked me to talk to you! The apocalypse— DEAN: Hey! I’m Dean Winchester. Do you know who I am? PREACHER: Dear God. DEAN: I’ll take that as a yes. Listen, I need you to pray to your angel buddies and let them know that I’m here. 

(spoiler alert: good thing that guy prayed too loud)

5.20 The Devil You Know:

CROWLEY Now...For the record, I'm against this. Negotiating a high-level defection -- It's very delicate business. SAM What are you talking about? CROWLEY I begged Dean not to come back. We should be miles away...from you. He replied with a colorful rejoinder about my "corn chute." SAM (scoffs) CROWLEY So, go ahead. Go --ruin our last best hope. It's only the end of the world.

(spoiler alert: considering this entire thing was a demonstration of Crowley’s ability to manipulate things to his favor... nice tug on the ol’ apocalypse card to get your way)

5.21 Two Minutes To Midnight:

Pestilence: Hmm. You boys don't look well. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever. Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis. That's no fun. However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions? Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself... very... pure... single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose -- divide and conquer. That's why, in the end... it always wins. So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy! And weak! It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now... On a scale of 1 to 10, how's your pain?

(spoiler alert: blowing up the bacteria actually kills them)

Bonus:

Death: As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless -- at the end, I'll reap him, too. Dean: God? You'll reap God? Death: Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean. Dean: Well, this is way above my pay grade. Death: Just a bit.

(spoiler alert: *taps watch and raises eyebrow at Billie*)

5.22 Swan Song:

CHUCK (VOICEOVER): Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass.

(spoiler alert: with the context that this is God speaking, RUDE)

6.15 The French Mistake:

BALTHAZAR Hello, boys. You've seen "the Godfather," right? DEAN Balthazar... BALTHAZAR You know, the end, where Michael Corleone sends his men to kill his enemies in one big, bloody swoop? (Balthazar finds a container of salt and pours it into a bowl on Bobby's desk) DEAN Hey! BALTHAZAR  "Dead Sea brine." Good, good, good. You know, Moe Greene gets it in the eye, and Don Cuneo gets it in the revolving door? DEAN I said "hey." BALTHAZAR You did. Twice. Good for you. Blood of lamb. Blood of lamb. (looking through Bobby's fridge contents) Beer, cold pizza. Blood of lamb. Yes! Blood of lamb! SAM Why are you talking about "the Godfather"? BALTHAZAR Because we're in it – right now, tonight. And in the role of Michael Corleone – The archangel Raphael.

(spoiler alert: Raphael was playing at being a Michael wasn’t he...)

6.20 The Man Who Would Be King:

CASTIEL You want to make a deal? With me? I'm an Angel, you ass. I don't have a soul to sell. CROWLEY But that's it, isn't it? It's all of it. It's the souls. It all comes down to the souls in the end, doesn't it? CASTIEL What in the hell are you talking about? CROWLEY I'm talking about Raphael's head on a pike. I'm talking about happy endings for all of us, with all possible entendres intended. Come on. Just a chat.

(spoiler alert... it all comes down to the souls in the end, happy endings for all of us, or we can hope)

Bonus, for the sake of hilarity, because of the implication that Hell is a spiral narrative that begins at the ending, All Along The Watchtower style:

CROWLEY Yeah. See, problem with the old place was most of the inmates were masochists already. A lot of "thank you, sir. Can I have another hot spike up the jacksie?" But just look at them. No one likes waiting in line. CASTIEL And what happens when they reach the front? CROWLEY Nothing. They go right back to the end again. That's efficiency.

(spoiler alert: THAT’S EFFICIENCY!)

Double bonus, because I said so:

CASTIEL If you touch the Winchesters... CROWLEY Please. I heard you the first time. I promise -- nary a hair on their artfully tousled heads. Besides, I think they've proven my point for me. It's always your friends, isn't it, in the end? We try to change. We try to improve ourselves. It's always our friends who got to claw into our sides and hold us back. But you know what I see here? The new God (pointing at Castiel) and the new Devil, working together.

(no spoilers, this is just Cas giving everything, selling himself out, for his loved ones again)

6.21 Let It Bleed:

March 15, 1937 Providence, Rhode Island

(A man, H.P. Lovecraft, is typing on a typewriter. He drinks and continues typing. He types "THE END" then places the final paper on top of the others. His door creaks open, seemingly by itself. At the same time, there is a crack of thunder and the lights flicker. He looks up, afraid

(spoiler alert: guess what happened next? *screams and blood splatter* *title card*)

bonus:

CASTIEL: It's a means to an end. Balthazar, you understand that. BALTHAZAR: Oh, absolutely. But what's the end here exactly? You know, raid Purgatory, snatch up all the souls? CASTIEL: Win the war.

(spoiler alert: or option B, exploding and taking half the planet with him... always an option, apparently, and the one that kinda happened...)

7.20 The Girl With The Dungeons And Dragons Tattoo:

CHARLIE: So what's the end game – steal our resources, make us some slaves? DEAN: Planet-wide value meal. We're the meat.

(spoiler alert: sorry they weren’t kidding, Charlie. the Leviathan’s end game was pretty miserable)

7.21 Reading Is Fundamental:

DEAN picks up a “Sorry!” card. CASTIEL: You know, we weren't sure at first which monkeys were gonna make it. No offense, but I [DEAN moves a marker on the board] was backing the Neanderthals because their poetry was... just amazing. It's in perfect tune [CASTIEL picks up a card] with the spheres. But in the end, it was you – the [CASTIEL moves a marker] homo sapiens sapiens. You guys ate the apple, invented pants. DEAN: Cas, where can we find this, uh, Metatron? Is he still alive? CASTIEL: I'm sorry. I – I think you have to go back to start. DEAN moves a marker. DEAN: This is important. CASTIEL motions for DEAN to pick up another card. DEAN does and moves another marker. DEAN: I think Metatron could stop a lot of bad. You understand that? CASTIEL picks up another card. CASTIEL: We live in a "sorry" universe. It's engineered to create conflict. I mean, why should I prosper from... your misfortune? [CASTIEL puts down a marker and moves DEAN’s marker back to the start.] But these are the rules. I didn't make them. DEAN: You made some of them. When you tried to become God, when you cut that hole into that wall. CASTIEL: Dean... it's your move. DEAN pounds a fist on the table and swipes the board to the floor. DEAN: Forget the damn game! Forget the game, Cas.

(spoiler alert: In the end, it was you... I mean humanity won the evolutionary lottery and ended up being able to make the rules for ourselves. All through this, Dean’s looking for other potential avenues toward saving the world from being devoured by Leviathan. Remember when Metatron might be able to do a lot of good? while Cas dodges the actual subject and plays a game that literally continually sends Dean “back to the start” to make the same moves again, maybe slightly differently this time, different strategy, as he repeatedly tries to get Cas to answer HIS question about the actual world-ending game they’re playing against the Leviathan? THIS IS THE SPIRAL NARRATIVE IN ACTION IN ONE SCENE. “WE LIVE IN A SORRY UNIVERSE ENGINEERED TO CREATE CONFLICT” “BUT THESE ARE THE RULES” And when Dean is tired of trying to work within the rules? *game goes flying* *smashes God’s guitar* heck this is a perfect scene... have I mentioned that I love Ben Edlund lately?)

8.01 We Need To Talk About Kevin:

DEAN: Yeah, Cas didn't make it. SAM: What exactly does that mean? DEAN: Something happened to him down there. Things got pretty hairy towards the end, and he... just let go.

(spoiler alert: Dean’s already rewriting this ending in his head because he can’t accept the truth of it. Endings suck, and this one would not stand.)

8.12 As Time Goes By:

HENRY : John was a legacy. I was supposed to teach him the ways of the Letters. DEAN : Well, he learned things a little differently. HENRY : How? DEAN : The hard way. Surviving a lonely childhood, a stinking war... only to get married and have his wife taken by a demon... and later killed by one himself. That man got a bum rap around every turn. But you know what? He kept going. And in the end, he did a hell of a lot more good than he did bad.

(spoiler alert: see, Dean’s already made a hell of a lot of peace with John even way back then)

8.14 Trial and Error:

DEAN: I'm a grunt, Sam. You're not. You've always been the brains of this operation. SAM: Dean— DEAN: And you told me yourself that you see a way out. You see a light at the end of this ugly-ass tunnel. I don't. But I tell you what I do know – it's that I'm gonna die with a gun in my hand. 'Cause that's what I have waiting for me – that's all I have waiting for me. I want you to get out. I want you to have a life – become a man of Letters, whatever. You, with a wife and kids and – and – and grandkids, living till you're fat and bald and chugging Viagra – that is my perfect ending, and it's the only one that I'm gonna get. So I'm gonna do these trials. I'm gonna do them alone – end of story. You're staying here. I'm going out there. If landshark comes knocking, you call me. If you try to follow me, I'm gonna put a bullet in your damn leg.

(spoiler alert: just look at the title of this episode to see how this all turned out. It ain’t called “Trial and Major Win”)

Bonus:

SAM: I want to slam hell shut, too, okay? But I want to survive it. I want to live, and so should you. You have friends up here, family. I mean, hell, you even got your own room now. You were right, okay? I see light at the end of this tunnel. And I'm sorry you don't – I am. But it's there. And if you come with me, I can take you to it. DEAN: Sam, be smart. SAM: I AM smart, and so are you. You're not a grunt, Dean. You're a genius – when it comes to lore, to – you're the best damn hunter I have ever seen – better than me, better than dad. I believe in you, Dean. So, please – please believe in me, too.

(spoiler alert: hell if this doesn’t sound like the speech Sam gave Dean in 14.12, but like way less frustrated, angry, and afraid)

8.17 Goodbye Stranger:

Meg: You ever miss the Apocalypse? Castiel: No. Why would I miss the end of times? Meg: I miss the simplicity. I was bad. You were good. Life was easier. Now it's all so messy. I'm kind of good, which sucks. And you're kind of bad -- which is actually all manner of hot. We survive this... I'm gonna order some pizza and we're gonna move some furniture around. You understand?

(spoiler alert: Cas doesn’t miss the end of times. And the only reason he was “kind of bad” here was because he was being mind-controlled by Naomi so... Meg will be dead by the end of the episode, and Cas will be freed from Heaven’s control. Good times. Better than the apocalypse anyway)

8.19 Taxi Driver:

BOBBY: Yeah. Yeah, well... You know, I always figured that'd be the end of it... You know, just a Hunter's funeral. Zip. Nothing. And I was okay with that. Imagine my surprise. SAM: Well, I guess if there has to be an eternity, I'd pick Heaven over Hell. BOBBY: Yeah. 'Cause there's nothing screwy going on up there. SAM: I wish I made the rules. BOBBY: Well... I'll, uh, do my part, get to the end of this, but... I ain't exactly the retiring type, so, you idjits figure out a way to spring me...

(spoiler alert: apparently what’s burned doesn’t stay dead, s8 version? Also Sam wishes he made the rules... I love all these mentions of “the rules”)

8.21 The Great Escapist:

DEAN: We got the other half of the tablet. KEVIN: What? DEAN: It's the light at the end of your tunnel, kid. Don't say we never got you nothing.

(tfw the light at the end of the tunnel is actually a locomotive)

Dean: Cure a demon. Okay, ignoring the fact that I have no idea what that actually means, if we — if we do this, you get better, right? I mean, you stop trying to cough up a lung, and, and, and bumping into furniture? Sam: I feel better, yeah, um, just having a direction to move in. Dean: Well, good, cause where we're headed doesn't sound like a picnic. Sam: But we're heading somewhere. The end.

(spoiler alert: LOLOLOL thing again bub.)

9.20 Bloodlines:

ENNIS: Look, I don't need no apology from you. DAVID: I lost someone, too, okay?! But I'm trying here. ENNIS: I'm sorry about your brother. He spoke about you at the end. He said, "David, I'm sorry. I didn't have a choice."

(I wasn’t gonna include this, because it’s purely conversational on top of being from this episode which doesn’t really count but... when they’ve both lost people in a sacrifice play, and one is mistaken for the other and his dying words for his brother are “I didn’t have a choice?” um... that just felt relevant)

9.23 Do You Believe in Miracles?

Gadreel: I sat in this hole for thousands of years thinking of nothing but redemption, of reclaiming my good name. I thought of nobody, no cause other than my own. Castiel: You've been redeemed my friend. Gadreel: The only thing that matters in the end is the mission: protecting those who would not and cannot protect themselves. The humans. None of us is bigger than that, we will not let our fears, our self absorption prevent us from seeing it through. Not anymore. Castiel: No, no of course not. Gadreel: Move to the other side of your cell Castiel, and keep your head down. When they say my name, perhaps I won't just be the one who let the Serpent in, perhaps I will be known as one of the many that gave Heaven a second chance. Run sister.

(spoiler alert: redemption, selfless sacrifice, Gadreel meets his end to prove Metatron’s manipulative duplicity and reveal his real motive... that was just another game in a different loop of the spiral. In the end, it’s the only thing that matters)

10.20 Angel Heart:

CASTIEL: So do you think she's better off on her own? SAM: Cas, she just turned 18. CASTIEL: You were alone when you left for college at that age, weren't you? SAM: Yeah, but that's different. CASTIEL: How, Sam? SAM: Here's all I know ... going it alone, that's no way to live. You being there for her, even if she thinks she doesn't want you to be there for her, that's good for both of you. CASTIEL: Maybe, in the end. SAM: In the end.

(spoiler alert: things don’t just get better right away, and they’re hard but family sticks together, loved ones stick together, even when they say they don’t want to... it might not be easy now, but in the end...)

11.02 Form and Void:

SAM: I was infected last night. You? RABID MAN: This morning. SAM: Wait a second. Then why -- RABID MAN: . . . am I further along? Don't know. This thing, it ain't math. I seen some people change fast, some change slow. But in the end . . . We all end up the same. We go psycho. And then we go boom. SAM: Well, that's not -- I'm gonna fix this. RABID MAN: LIAR! You and me, we're dead. We're just taking our sweet time about it. So if you were smart, you'd put a bullet in me . . . and then eat one yourself.

(Sam wasn’t lying, Rabid Man. You just didn’t make it. And Sam was smart not to put a bullet in either of you.)

Bonus, for extra manipulation:

HANNAH: Where is it? CASTIEL: I don't know. HANNAH: Then who would? The Winchesters? Castiel, if this is true, it's the end for all of us. Sam and Dean -- where are they? CASTIEL: I don't know. HANNAH: Then think harder! CASTIEL: How did you find me?

(because that’s the thing, Cas realized Hannah wasn’t there to help, not there to heal him, and that she’d been in charge of all of this all along. She could’ve helped Cas like he’d asked and earned his trust and he probably would’ve shared what he knew of the Darkness with her, but she resorted to the old Heaven Way Of Doing Things instead... and he saw through the manipulation)

11.09 O Brother Where Art Thou?

Man: Repress your sins. Beg for his divine mercy. When the end comes – and come it will – only the forgiven will ascend to holy grace.

and

Amara raises both her arms skyward, compelling lightning bolts. One by one the members of the crowd are struck down; with the final lightning bolt hitting the man who had been preaching. They are all dead, completely scorched. The blood on the fountain turns back to water. The thunderstorm ends. Amara surveys her work, her gaze resting on one body, still holding a sign that says: THE END IS NEAR!

(gotta love those wackadoo religious nuts in this universe, right?)

Dean: What is it exactly that you want? When you make the world of bliss and peace, what’s in it for you? Amara: What I deserve. Dean: Which is? Amara: Everything. Dean: Everything? Amara: I was the beginning and I will be the end. I will be all that there is. Dean: So, you’re it. [Dean turns away from Amara]. That would make you God. Amara: No, God was the Light. I’m the Dark.

(So Amara was the beginning and will be the ending, all that there is... kinda... sounds a bit like... the empty?)

11.10 The Devil In The Details:

Lucifer: Okay, you don't like me. I get it... I get it; sometimes I don't like me either. But Gabriel and Raphael are dead. God went out for a pack of smokes and never came back... and Michael... well, let's just say prison life hasn't really agreed with Michael. These days he's usually sitting in a corner singing show tunes and touching himself. Sam: So you're it. Lucifer [laughing]: I'm it! And hey, I'm not the good guy, we both know I'm not, but the Darkness, she's the end of everything. Lucifer crouches down so he is face to face with Sam, imploring with him. Lucifer: But I can beat her. We can beat her. You and me, together. So come on, Sam. Make the right choice, the big sacrifice one more time, man. Sam, it's time to save the world, man.

(hooooly shit there’s a lot of lying and manipulating happening here... and the Darkness? even she wasn’t the end of everything)

11.16 Safe House:

(mostly included for flashback-to-the-apocalypse lolz)

BOBBY: The apocalypse is on the horizon, and you wanna hunt a damn ghost! RUFUS: Well unless you found a way to stop the end of the world during your little siesta, we got jack all on any of that business. Now I knew you were in the area, heard about this possible little gig, I thought a win would be nice.

(because it’s the end of the world and weird random “wins” help. Plus things that exist outside of time and space in convenient pocket dimensions for easy storage outside of God’s lil creation)

11.17 Red Meat:

Michelle: I... I just wanted to see how you were doing. And to tell you th... [Her voice shakes with emotion and she pauses.] I'm sorry. You saved our lives and... [another pause] well, my mom used to say, um... I didn't believe her then, but I... I think I do now. She used to say... death... it's not the end.

(lololololololllllllllll)

Dean’s spirit: You know, the Darkness is out there... and the world is gonna burn. And once she gets started, that's the end of everything, including you. Now, Sam's the only one who can stop it. Billie: Hmm. How's that? Dean is lost for words. Billie: That's what I thought. It's cute, though. You pretending you're trying to save Sam for the greater good, when we both know you're doing it for you. You can't lose him. But even if Sammy could win the title bout... the answer would still be “no.” The answer will always be “no.” Game's over, Dean. No more second chances. No more extra lives. Time to say bye-bye to Luigi, Mario. Dean’s spirit [sadness and desperation in his eyes]: I'm asking you... I'm begging you, please. Bring him back. Bring him back and take me instead. Billie: I'm not here to bargain with you, kid. I'm here to reap you. And the kicker is... Sam's not dead. [Dean looks stunned] But you are. Or will be, soon enough.

(DOUBLE LOLLLOLOLOLOLLOLLOLLLL)

11.21 All in The Family:

Dean: You're right. I am drawn to you. And it bothers the hell out of me, 'cause I can't control it. Amara: Then why fight it? What you're feeling is that I am the end of your struggle. Something stops you. Keeps you from having it all.

(lol Amara REALLY wants to be the end doesn’t she... poor thing gonna get stuck with Mr. Infinite Loop Chuck... no wonder that’s like her worst nightmare. Heck, being locked up in nothingness sounds better, since that IS her deal... she’s not just the “end” though... she’s also the beginning...Alpha and Omega... Chuck is all the middle bits)

11.22 We Happy Few:

CHUCK: I can’t say I’m sorry if I’m not. (He places plates of pancakes in front of SAM and DEAN.) What he wants an apology for, I did it for humanity. For the world. Look, Lucifer wants what everybody wants: Amara gone. ‘kay? Let’s just give him a little time to cool off. (CHUCK sips from a mug labeled WORLD’S GREATEST DAD.) DEAN: Okay, well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but a little time is not something that we have. The end is frickin’ nigh.

(omfg it’s all the Dabb era themes... god Chuck has always been a dick)

Bonus:

CLEA: End times shouldn’t bother you though, Ro, you a rat. Find your way off any sinkin’ ship. ROWENA: Damn right. The spell I’m working on is Book of the Damned magic, and it can get us back. We can buy ourselves a few more centuries of life. Turn back the clock for us before the world inevitably goes (sing-song) ‘bye-bye.’ CLEA: You scared. ROWENA: Aye. I came face-to-face with the Darkness. The Apocalypse bell’s been rung a few times in our day, but when I looked inside her, I saw it. Not just the end of the world, Heaven and Hell. The end of magic. 

11.23 Alpha And Omega:

CAS: The angels are—Heaven won't help. DEAN: They know that this is the end, right? Of everything. CAS: Yes. SAM: And they don't care? CAS: No, it's not that. It's... They know—They know God is dying and they don't think we can win this. Souls or no souls. They're sealing Heaven, and they're "dying with dignity".

(spoiler alert: it’s like they keep trying to do this all through Dabb era... even after the Shadow throws open every gate. They’re still dying. Kinda makes me think it’s Chuck’s doing... literally... all of it, since it was Humanity’s Plan in this episode that CHANGED things from Chuck’s plan to just... wait for the inevitable blast wave ending)

[Sam, Cas, Crowley and Rowena, and Chuck pull up in the Impala to ‘The The Lazy Shag’ bar/restaurant which has a ‘Closed’ sign on the door. A man walks by with a sign that says ‘The End Is Near���.]

(and a bit later Cas comments that Chuck looks terrible >.>)

12.12 Stuck In The Middle (With You):

[organ music plays, Castiel is sitting in his truck listening to the radio] RADIO: Each of us has a time the physical body dies. We all face God’s judgment in the end. There’s not one of us alive walking on this earthly plane that will not pay the consequence for their actions. [the Impala pulls into the parking lot, distracting Cas from the radio] RADIO: The Lord will hold us in the palm of his hand, and he’ll weigh our souls. Brothers and sisters, are you worthy? [Cas turns off the radio]

(lol, THE WOUNDED ANGEL)

RAMIEL: Allies. Is that what you call three humans with one good liver between them and a busted up angel? CROWLEY: I admit they don’t sound like much. But every Armageddon, every bloody, “this is the end of all things,” a Winchester stopped it. Like it or not, they’re an asset we can’t afford to lose.

(Crowley being sensible, there’s something much bigger than Ramiel’s surface-level read at stake here)

12.20 Twigs And Twine And Tasha Banes:

KETCH: It's the end for the American Hunters. Their time has passed.

(BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAA)

WOMAN: I'm reaching the end of my very long life, and it's a problem. Max and Dean are also in pain. Another image of Tasha in the cellar bleeding profusely from her stomach area flashes. WOMAN: 'cause I sold my soul for power. So when I pass, my soul goes to Hell. Unless I can find someone to take the burden, to take my magic.

(spoiler alert: that’s YOUR problem, lady)

12.22 Who We Are:

SAM: Is this how you pictured it? The end? DEAN: Oh, you know it's not. I always thought we'd go out like... Butch and Sundance style. (Sam chuckles) SAM: Yeah. Blaze of glory. DEAN: Blaze of glory. (Dean smirks) Son of a bitch.

(spoiler alert: the grenadebaiting payoff. Gonna die anyway? May as well get the big boom.)

13.02 The Rising Son:

SAM: These yellow-eyed things just keep on comin’, huh? DEAN: Mm—hmm. And hopefully this fourth Prince of Hell is the last Kardashian in the family. SAM: According to this, if that was Asmodeus, it’s the end of the line.

(hey, for once, reaching the end of the line is a relief)

13.16 Scoobynatural:

SAM: Dude, what's wrong with you? DEAN: They don't know that they're in a...a C-word. And we're not gonna tell 'em about anything. Not where we're from, not about monsters. Nothing. Capiche? (Dean looks over to the Scooby Gang, standing across the room) DEAN: They are pure and innocent and good, and we're gonna keep it that way. SAM: Look, if you've seen this episode, why-why can't we just skip to the end? DEAN: Well, 'cause sometimes it's about the journey and not the destination.

(we can’t “skip to the end” because it’s about the JOURNEY, which is still ONGOING, and therefore NOT THE END)

Bonus:

Sam: Ha! Velma was right. It was a shady real estate developer after all. Jay: It's not fair. I would've gotten away with it if it wasn't for those meddling kids. Dean: He said it! He said the line! Scooby Dooby Do! Sam: What are you doing? Dean: Well, I mean at the end of every mystery, Scooby looks at the camera and he says-- Castiel: Dean, you're not a talking dog. Dean: I know that. I... Sam: Yeah. Dean: No, but come on, I-I do look cool with the ascot, right? No? Guys? Come on, guys. Look, red is my color!

(lol!)

13.20 Unfinished Business:

KEVIN: I didn't have a choice! I… Y-you don't understand. I… I… I never used to believe in anything. Well, ex-except science-- quantum mechanical unpredictably. But then the end of the world happened, and everyone around me-- my friends, and my… my mom-- they all started to die. But God chose me? What… What does that even mean?! Michael said he wanted to save the world, not kill it. But he… he hurt so many people. When I couldn't perfect the spell, Michael, he got mad and threw me in the dungeon. And I was so scared, but I fixed it. B-but I… I couldn't do it anymore.

(aah, the poor Worst Version of Kevin, no choice, thought he was doing the right thing, manipulated by circumstance and empty promises...)

GABRIEL: I had it made-- all the booze I could drink, all the, uh, entertainment I could handle. [Sam interrupts and Dean looks disappointed, but the action returns to the motel room] SAM: Okay! Why don't we just skip to the end? [Gabriel sighs and skips to the end of the story, asleep in bed with the two women, when Sleipnir, Narfi, and Fenrir bound him with a sigil and kidnapped him from his bed] GABRIEL: So this is how it ended. By the time I came to, they had sold me to Asmodeus. SAM: Why would they do that? GABRIEL: Hello? Lucifer? In case you don't remember, there was an apocalypse brewing at the time.

(LOL Sam asked Gabriel to skip to the end of the story, and unlike Dean in 13.16, Gabriel did... no wonder Dean was disappointed, he was enjoying the journey even if most of Gabriel’s story was embellished beyond recognition)

LOKI: You think you're some… poor, innocent victim? [he strolls over and punches Gabriel again] Gabriel, with his deadbeat daddy and his mean older brothers. [he stomps on Gabriel] “Who will help me?” “Who will save me?” [he picks Gabriel up and pins him to the wall by his neck] I did! But you… you couldn't keep one promise. And then you had the audacity to ask me to help you again?! [he throws Gabriel down the hall, where Sam and Dean have arrived in a doorway behind him] You think I deserve to die for your spinelessness?! That my sons deserved to die?! [the fight continues, as Dean slides Loki’s sword to Gabriel and Gabriel finally gets Loki pinned to the wall at the tip of the blade] LOKI: Of course, of course you would need someone to swoop in and save your pitiful ass. GABRIEL: Shut up! LOKI: Face it, old friend, you're a joke. You're a failure. You live for pleasure. You stand for nothing. And in the end, that's exactly what you'll die for.

(heck... I mean, Loki dies here, because that “promise?” Gabriel didn’t break it. Loki just wouldn’t listen to facts or accept the reality of what happened. Gabriel had been trying to SAVE his father in 5.19, but THEY also wouldn’t listen... so... poor Gabriel was just stuck in the middle again, and he was imprisoned and tortured for it. Heck he better still be alive and that was another projection that died in 13.22)

14.03 The Scar:

Dean: You were right. I just didn’t want to look at it, what Michael used me for. I just wanted to race ahead. You know, skip to the end of the story the part where I get the weapon and I take out the bad guy. The part where I kill Michael. Sam: Yeah, I know. Dean: You know I said yes to him because I thought: it was stupid. I was stupid. Sam: Dean, you did what you had to do.

(ugh there’s that awful “you did what you had to do.” there was NO CHOICE. NONE. and Dean just wanted revenge at any cost for having been used like that... not even just by Michael, but in the Grander Scheme he has context for after 14.20)

14.07 Unhuman Nature:

Rowena: It's as I suspected. A Nephilim, for all its power, is an unnatural presence. Part human, part angel… It -- It doesn't quite fit. It's delicate. Its grace is what holds it in balance, and when Jack's grace was taken from him, his being fell into chaos. The -- The cells are gobbling each other up. Castiel: Well, if it's grace he needs, he can have mine. Rowena: No, dear, it won't do. Jack is part archangel. He needs a much stronger force and probably some kind of magic, and he needs it quick. Dean: How quick? Rowena: I don't...I don't exactly know, but he's enterin' a critical phase. Sometimes he'll look just fine, but then his body will give way and...it'll be the end of him.

(interesting phrasing...)

14.10 Nihilism:

Mainly, I wanted to make note of the song choice that plays in Rocky’s Bar, “Searchin’ for a Rainbow” by the Marshall Tucker Band. Because the lyrics repeat on a loop about looking for the end of the rainbow

14.11 Damaged Goods:

SAM: Mom, we don’t hug. I mean, w-we do, but only if it’s literally the end of the world, you know?

(yet... Dean awkwardly hugged him... sign of the apocalypse)

14.12 Prophet and Loss:

DEAN: Hey. Man, I-I just want to make sure that you’re still with me on this thing. You’re gonna see it through to the end. SAM: Well, I gave you my word, didn’t I? DEAN: Okay, alright. Just, you know, after what you said last night, I-I-I don’t need you and Mom coming up with some way to stop me. SAM: You know, Mom hates this. I hate this. DEAN: I know. SAM: And Cas and Jack, you haven’t even told them. DEAN: Okay, well, yeah, that’s because I’m not good with the whole big goodbyes, alright? I-I-I don’t need to get shaky on this thing. SAM: Wouldn’t be the worst thing. DEAN: You know what Michael wants to do, you know that this will stop it, and you know that there’s no other way. So, just put the end of this trip outta your head, okay?

(spoiler alert: oh look it’s nihilistic Dean from back in 5.18 come for a brief visit. good thing he got clocked on the noggin instead of doing this dumb thing)

Bonus that’s not really a bonus, because boy’s obsessed and it’s just not healthy:

DEAN: I believe in all of us. And I’ll keep believing until I can’t. Until there’s absolutely no other way. But when that day comes – if that day comes… Sam, you have to take it for what it is – the end. And you have to promise me that you’ll do then what you can’t do now, and that’s let me go. And put me in that box.

[metalandmagi]

August Media Madness

Well, August may have sucked for me personally, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t keep track of all the media I consumed this month! And spoiler alert, I watched a lot of movies involving adorable talking bears. Although, I have a feeling that as soon as the fall television premieres start, I’ll be watching a lot less movies.

July’s media

Movies!

Dear Evan Hansen

Thank you bootlegs. This isn’t a movie, but I didn’t want to make a separate category for plays when I’ve only seen one this month. Anyway, if you haven’t heard of it, Dear Evan Hansen involves an incredibly anxious teenage boy who is tasked by his therapist to write motivational letters to himself. Unfortunately, Connor Murphy, an angsty boy who goes to Evan’s school sees one of the letters, takes it, and promptly decides to kill himself, with the letter still on his person. Everyone ends up thinking he and Evan were friends and that this letter was a suicide note that Connor wrote to Evan...and a beautiful fake gay relationship friendship was born. Call me basic as hell, but I’ve watched this show twice now, and listened to the soundtrack more times than I can count, and it’s turning into my favorite musical. There are so many important messages in it, and it takes you on a roller coaster of emotions. Every character does good and bad things, and no one is blameless or innocent...except maybe Zoe Murphy. If anything just listen to the soundtrack. 10/10

Night on the Galactic Railroad

Cats...on a mystical train...This seems like the kind of movie they would show you in film school. Very dull plot and characters with the themes being the main takeaway. What even is the plot of this movie? Darker, grittier, furry version of the Polar Express? Incredibly boring slightly more religious version of Over the Garden Wall? I just kept watching it because the main character looks like a cat version of Kagayama Tobio in middle school...cat-gayama. 4/10

Paddington

An adorable bear from South America travels to London and gets into all sorts of trouble with an English family. It’s very charming and sweet, and the aesthetic in this movie is on point, like Wes Anderson directed a children’s movie. This is one of those movies you hear about where everyone loves it, and you think it can’t possibly be that good, but then you watch it and you were wrong! So wrong! 10/10

Paddington 2

Naturally. This time an adorable South American bear goes to prison, and his family tries to clear his name. Again, A+ aesthetic and imagery, but I think I preferred the plot of the first movie a little more because everyone was all together. 9/10

Christopher Robin

Do you like Winnie the Pooh? Do you like jaded adults finding happiness in their lives again? Do you think the movie Hook had a good premise but was extremely long and kinda boring and could have been a better movie with a little tweaking? Well this is the movie for you! Christopher Robin has grown into an overworked adult, and his old friend Winnie the Pooh inadvertently helps him reconnect with his wife and daughter (and also his inner child) just by being the sweet, clumsy, dry humored bear we all know and love. I was so skeptical of this movie at first, and I was absolutely blown away by how funny and meaningful it was. 100/10

The Road to El Dorado

Two lovable Spanish con men named Miguel and Tulio are accidentally swept away on a journey to the fabled city of El Dorado, where everything is made of gold. Once they reach the city, the locals believe they’re gods due to an (un)fortunate series of coincidences, and the con men try to keep up the charade with the help of the best character in the movie, Chel (who I’m pretty sure caused an entire generation of lesbians’ sexual awakening). This is one of my favorite animated movies of all time and one of the reasons I wish Dreamworks would go back to their 2D animation days, where the visuals and music were just as stunning as 3D movies are now. This movie is a classic, and I desperately want a sequel! 10/10

To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before

When Lara Jean thinks it’s a good idea to write 5 secret love letters to 5 boys that she’s had crushes on over the years, everything is fine until her little sister mails the letters to all the boys (because even a 6th grader knows Lara Jean is lonely and emotionally stunted as fuck). This is a Netflix original movie that was adapted from the book by Jenny Han...which I haven’t read, but now I really want to. Overall, this was super cute, but I wasn’t really crazy about the boys. They weren’t horrible people or anything, and they never pressured Lara Jean or made fun of her for being “innocent”, but they were just kind of bland. I’m much more interested in the other boys we didn’t see in the movie! But the family relationships were so heartfelt, Lara Jean’s fashion sense is AMAZING, and the acting/casting was awesome. 8/10

Summer Wars

I...don’t even know how to describe the plot of this one. A teenage boy named Kenji goes on a country holiday and pretends to date an acquaintance of his in order to impress her enormous family...but it’s really about an AI that becomes sentient and wants to mess up the world through this universal internet program called OZ that’s kind of like a mashup of Facebook and Second Life...but actually no it’s about family sticking together and using a Japanese card game to save the world…but apparently it’s got the same plot as the Digimon movie because they’re both directed by Mamoru Hosoda. Yeah...

Guys, I have a confession to make...this has always been my favorite Mamoru Hosoda movie. Everyone falls all over themselves saying Wolf Children is the best Mamoru Hosoda movie, and that’s great for them but it doesn’t even come in second for me. Summer Wars means a lot more to me personally because I come from a big extended family, and when I first saw this movie, I was blown away by how accurate the family dynamic was. There are so many characters, but everyone has their own personality. Not to mention the music makes the summer atmosphere so on point. And I’m not going to lie...I bawled like a fucking baby the first time I saw this movie. So anyway, I like Summer Wars more than Wolf Children, thanks for coming to my TED talk. 10/10

Atlantis: The Lost Empire

Unappreciated researcher Milo Thatch goes on an expedition to find the lost city of Atlantis.

Okay, there are two kinds of Disney fans in this world: Treasure Planet fans, and Atlantis fans. And I will support Treasure Planet as the best underrated vaguely steampunk inspired Disney movie until you can pry my 15 year old dvd copy away from my cold dead hands. But Atlantis is pretty good too. I could write essays comparing the two and why both of them should be successful but weren’t. My main problem with it is that the characters are great, but I feel like we don’t see enough of them, and as a kid a lot of the humor went by so fast that I completely missed it. Also the glowing eyes and spirits taking over the Atlantian princess’s body freaked me the fuck out as a child. NEVERTHELESS! This really is a great movie, with extremely well developed lore and well designed characters that chills me to this day. 8/10

Deadpool 2

The merc with a mouth is back, and man there’s so much going on in this movie I won’t even try to explain the plot. I literally had to go back and add this in because I was so into this movie when I was watching it that I forgot to write it down! Even though I really liked this sequel, I think I liked the first one better, just based on how much I laughed. There was so much going on plot wise, but it really seemed to work for this movie. There were also a lot of great new characters (Domino is my favorite character of the franchise now), but since there was so much stuff going on, a lot of jokes and plot lines were sort of hit and miss. Anyway, I’m sure everyone’s seen this one by now but just in case, I highly recommend it. 9/10

Books!

The Adventure Zone Graphic Novel: Here There be Gerblins by Clint McElroy (technically all the McElboys) and Carey Pietsch

Yeah yeah, for anyone who doesn’t know I’m Adventure Zone trash okay. TAZ is a DnD podcast where 3 brothers and their father create one of the most famous campaigns in history involving three idiot adventurers going on a quest to find a missing person and getting sucked into a much larger grand plan to protect the world. This graphic novel is a visualization of the first arc. I don’t even really like Here There be Gerblins all that much, and yet here I am. Oh well, the art was amazing, and of course I already knew the story. But it was kind of hilarious to see the name changes they had to make to some of the characters and places. I was a little disappointed that the ending was so rushed, and we don’t really spend time around the moon base before The Director is in our face changing the Lunar Interlude parts but whatever. 10 dead gerblins/10

The Darkest Minds by Alexandra Bracken

When a disease that only affects children kills off nearly all the kids on the planet, the survivors are left with supernatural powers and are taken away to concentration camps in order to “protect” the public. I’ve been wanting to read this for a long time, and since the movie just came out I thought it was the perfect time. This is one of those books that some people adore and some people hate. I thought it was just okay. For everything that I didn’t like, there was something to make up for it. Personally, I felt that Bracken focused on the wrong part of the story. Everything takes place years after this disease has come, and I think it would have been more interesting to see everything from the children’s points of view when this disease was first starting. I would focus on each different character as a child and how they wound up in their respective camps. Oh well, there’s way too many pros and cons  that I could delve into, but you like the YA dystopian genre then I say go for it. I didn’t like it enough to read the other two books (not yet anyway). 7/10

TV Shows!

Camp Camp

You know how there are summer camps that specialize in science, or acting, or space, or whatever? Yeah Camp Camp is about a summer camp that throws literally everything you can think of into one summer camp. If you don’t believe me, just listen to the theme song. Seriously though this is one of the best shows I’ve watched all year, but boy howdy this is not one for young children. It’s like Gravity Falls and Rick and Morty had a baby! Anyway, the characters are both surprising and hilarious. David the camp counselor (voiced by Miles Luna) is genuinely likable when you think he’d be the most annoying person on the planet, and the kids are so accurate it’s scary. Also Yuri Lowenthal is in it. And Griffin McElroy has a recurring role where he plays A GHOST! I’ve never been into Rooster Teeth stuff, but they have a winner with this one. 10/10

The Marvelous Mrs. Maisel

After her husband leaves her, Midge Maisel gets super drunk, goes on stage, and gives a hilarious rant about her relationship at a small comedy/talent club and somehow gets sucked into becoming a rising comedian as a woman in the 1950s. It’s good. Great acting pretty funny, but Midge and her agent/manager Susie are the only likable characters. Everyone else just kind of...sucks 8/10

Voltron Season 7 (spoilers)

Okay, I know everyone had mixed feelings about this season, but I did come out liking a lot of it. It had a lot of flaws (I really thought it would be Shiro’s season, and man was I wrong), but this is the sort of thing we can’t really judge until the last episode of the series is finished. I like to think of the positives: the action was amazing as usual, HUNK IS GETTING MORE AND MORE DEVELOPMENT EVERY SEASON, I refuse to believe the team introduced Adam just to have him killed off immediately so he’s still alive in my mind, we get to see everyone’s reunions with their families, the lost in space episode was cool, and say what you want about the game show episode, but I loved it! There were a lot of good things so it was easier for me to look past the...not so great aspects of the season. 7/10

Galavant

A musical comedy mini series involving a renowned medieval hero named Galavant on a quest to rescue his ex girlfriend from her “evil” husband King Richard. But maybe she doesn’t want to be rescued. Well, that’s just the first season. It’s best to go in knowing as little as possible. I remember liking it when it first came out, and it’s still pretty cute...but sometimes I feel like it’s trying too hard. A lot of the music isn’t really...memorable, but the characters are likable so it’s still worth the watch. 8/10

Disenchantment

Speaking of medieval comedies...Princess Bean doesn’t want to get married, mystical elf Elfo doesn’t want to live in an enchanted forest where everyone is happy all the time, and Bean’s personal demon Luci just wants to watch people suffer. Honestly, I wasn’t very into this show at first, but something compelled me to just keep watching, and by the end I was totally into it! This is one of those shows where you think there isn’t going to be a plot, but then the last few episodes come up and smack you in the face! 7.5/10

Round Planet

A documentary parody...mockumentary...satire...That’s really not a great way to describe it. It’s a nature documentary with funny commentary. I like nature shots and animals so I liked it, but there’s a lot of tangents and running jokes and British references that sometimes don’t land. Oh well, if you like unconventional documentaries, just watch it. 8/10

Honorable Mentions

DnDnD: I don’t think I’ve ever talked about this podcast before, but there’s a DnD podcast made by Practical Folks (aka the Drunk Disney youtube channel). It’s pretty good! I want an Adventure Zone crossover now!

The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild: Every time I think I’m out, it pulls me back in. I finally got the DLC and spent most of this month playing this freaking game AGAIN!

The Heathers soundtrack: I finally listened to the Heathers musical soundtrack...and I didn’t love it. There are some good songs in it, but overall I’m unimpressed. And I never could really get into the plot, I’ve always thought it was really weird and over dramatic.

Legendary by Stephanie Garber: I’m about halfway through this book, which is the second in the Caraval series. And it’s pretty good! More on that next month.

[silviasutton1989]

T.T.K. Ch. 12 Part 1 “Le jeux sont fait”

A/N: I won say much but I really hope you guys don’t get mad at me for what I am about to do with this story. I know that we all have our different ships I just hope that you are ok with going through this journey even if you don’t necessarily like where it goes. Yes this is a 2 part chapter it would have been 5000 words had I not split it so although you might not get the answers you like I left several clues (one big one) that can point you in the right direction. 

Word Count: 2400

Rating: M course language slightly sexual situations

Summary: Although it’s the day after Riley’s birthday the encounters fro last night still remain.

Catch Up: Chapter 1  1.2  2  3  4  5  6  7 8  9  9.2  9.25   10   11

Drake punches the wall full force, his fist throbbing at the impact but rage wouldn’t allow him to feel the pain. Or at least not that one, his heart was already wounded. Riley was happy, and that smile was something that he hadn’t been able to put on her face in days. Is this how he will always feel with her? Incompetent?

A light touch breaks him from his thoughts.

“Ca va?”

Not bothering to look at her “Kiara go back to your little party!” He starts to walk down the hallway again hearing her heels click behind him on the marble floor, and spins around to face her, rage and tears in his eyes.

“Will you stop following me? Go!” Drake waves the Crown Royal bottle clutched in his hand at her and quips “I’m fine.”

Something in Kiara snaps, her decorum vanishes and she pushes Drake against the wall. Bewildered he stays put, watching the woman with wide eyes.

“Kiara---“

“Why won’t you just let me in? You don’t want to be with me? I get that but I can be a friend to you Drake! And by the looks of it you need one today.”  She quickly realizes her actions, and recoils . “I’m…I’m so sorry, Drake. I don’t know what got into me.  I—“ her voice stammers for a moment before she begins to walk away.

“Wait…” Drake calls out to her, with an exacerbated sigh slowly walking towards her. “Ok friend how about you help me finish off this bottle.”

A smile reaches her eyes. At least I can make her smile. “Tres bon! Let's take a walk."

They turn down another hallway, the music from the party slowly subsiding.

Breakfast was silent, Hana and Maxwell the only two making conversation at the extra-long dining table. Riley and Drake sat quietly, a chair between them. They hadn’t spoken about last night or about the fact that their bed wasn’t slept in by either of them.

“So you know…” Maxwell’s mouth full of pastries as he speaks to Hana. “There’s a rumor going around that someone had a little too much fun last night.”

“What do you mean? We all had fun.” Hana’s innocent eyes scan over her friends. Riley stares into her untouched plate. Drake leans back into his chair rubbing his temples ferociously. The two look guilty as sin. “What cannot be fun about a surprise party?”

“He means someone was having sex last night.” Madeline interjects. Liam chokes on his orange juice hearing the boastful statement. “So who was it. It had to be someone at this table. My bet is on the lovely couple.” She points her glass at the two a sinful smile on her lips. “You two have been screwing all through the tour. And don’t think I don’t know what you lust birds were doing at my estate either” She chuckles.

“Kiara and Olivia aren’t here maybe it was them.” Riley seethes, giving Liam a quick pleading glance before returning her stare at her plate. She didn’t look at Drake. Not once.

“Nope. The maid said that it was defiantly a man and a woman." Maxwell begins,  "She said the two were in the heated throws of passion pelvis to pelvis consumed in the friction of ecstasy. That their cries of erotica could have filled the whole estate.” He looks at his friends who all stare at him. “That was a direct quote.”

“Maxwell you should really stop talking to the help. My room is right by the vacant wing and I didn’t hear a thing.” Olivia takes a seat at the table.  She takes a bagel smearing it with cream cheese. “Let's talk about something of actual importance, than some rumor that’s clearly a lie. I just got a call from Gynaika they would like to do an interview with me.”

“The Greek Women’s magazine?” Hana asks in awe, mouth agape.

“The very one. It’s going to be a “Women to Watch” issue.” Olivia states matter of factly, taking a large bite out of the bagel cream cheese caught on the side of her mouth. She has a smile on her face that fills her eyes. Liam sees the cream and hands her a napkin chuckling at the sight.

“Congratulations Olivia.” He tells her everyone at the table following suit.

“That’s really great, Olivia.” Riley tries to fake the smile but quickly gives up.

The gang bombarded Olivia with questions on her interview, no one but Riley heard the low husky voice “Riley, we need to talk about last night.” Drake’s eyes are dark and when the two finally look at each other they both knew this talk will not end favorably.

“You are soooooo pretty!  You know that? Do you know how pretty your almond shaped eyes are, Liam?” Riley squeals as she stumbles down the hallway. The party had been great. Except for one thing. There was one thing in the back of her mind that just wouldn’t let her be happy. He had a smile that haunted her, a smell that would make her weak at the knees and a voice that would send chills through her. Drake wasn’t around but his memory lingered .

“Riley I don’t think you will need that. You may have had your fill.” Liam points to the Crown Royal bottle in her hand. He blushes from her compliment no one had ever called him “pretty” before.

“Oh pish posh hog wash! Kiara had like 30 of these damn bottles on the table. She can do without one I think.” She puts the container to her face watching the brown liquid swirl like gold in a jar. “I’m going to give this to Drake …to apologize for being a self-centered ass.”

“Hey! I won’t let you say such things.” Liam gives her his best sober look yet he bobs on his feet slightly, “Today is your birthday and you should have fun! You, my lady are not an ass…I mean you have an ass… a beautiful ass but you have other things too.” He stands tall as if he gave the best speech of his royal career.

Riley giggles hysterically “The king of Cordonia just said a bad word. Quick someone alert the council!” She screams.

“Shhh…” his finger to his lips “you can’t tell anyone my secret… but you know sometimes I say fuck when no one is listening.”  He quickly covers his mouth as if to stop the word from spewing out.

“Oh I have the most brilliant beyond brilliant idea. Come with me.” She grabs his arm dragging him down the hall.

“Where are we going?” He giggles

“To find a balcony I want to scream profanities at the top of my lunges! And you are going to do it with me.”

“Wait…what am I doing?” she doesn’t answers as she continues to pull him along with very little effort. If only she knew he would follow her through the gates of hell if she asked him to.

Liam's fingers drummed against the wooden desk. He assumed that given the attack a council meeting would be imminent. What he was surprised by was how few members made the drive to meet him. Many of whom were on the tour but after the fire began to have illnesses or deaths in the family. Whatever reasons they gave Liam knew they were fabricated. His council was depleting and that meant his nobles were abandoning him. There were 4 men staring back at him. 4 out of 25.

"So I guess this meeting will be a short one." Liam tries to chuckle through his words but catches a lump in his throat and coughs instead.

"Your Majesty, we first wanted to say you gave an excellent speech at Apple Wood. News reports are favoring you as quick and empathetic to your citizens."

"Why thank you, Lord Scribes. I do feel that Duchess Riley and I..."

"There is the matter with Duchess Riley that we would like to discuss, Sire?" Colonial Martian states.

Liam straightens in his chair "Oh...and what matter would that be?"

 "Well if the incident like last week gives us any indication as to how the duchess reacts under pressure, we just don't feel that she is capable of being a representative for our court."

"She seemed a bit checked out, your highness." Scribes interjects.

Liam's jaw tightens as his knee begins to bump underneath the desk. "So you want me to send her away because she made one ill-timed joke?" His knee was noisily beating against the desk now. He pushes his chair back to stop the noise but his leg still moves.

"Oh goodness no Your Highness. We don't want her to leave. The reason we are having this tour is for her wedding. But we do feel that maybe she shouldn't be the woman by your side when you give your speeches to the public."

With a heavy sigh the king looks between his councilmen. "And who do you think should?"

Lord Scribes slides over the morning paper. The front page picture shows Liam and Olivia standing side by side smiling to the cheering crowd. A pained grunt comes from him as he stares at the paper.

"So you want me to host public events with Oli--Duchess Olivia? Wasn’t it just a month ago you all were ready to throw her in the dungeon for the attacks? Now she gives one good speech and you’re ready to make her the face of Cordonia." His words came out more critical than he intended. He was proud of Olivia for stepping up and inspiring the citizens but he had put a lot into Riley playing that role. She could do it. All she needed was guidance he was sure of it.

"Not at all Your Majesty. We figure the more attention you give her the easier we can catch her and given our lack in attendance of nobles we need as much positive publicity as we can get. We have to face facts Olivia is a virus!"

Liam raises his eyebrows. "She's a what?"

"He means she has gone viral." Colonial Martian states, narrowing his eyes at the old man before turning back to his monarch. "In nearly a week her speech has almost a million views. She’s starting to become a sensation not just locally but internationally as well. Some U.S. press are even buzzing about her.”

The rest of the meeting was a complete blur. As charts and graphs were presented in to him, his thoughts were focused on last night. On how perfect it actually felt to be with her. But there was just so much in between them so many things that have yet to be said or understood. She was in love with another man and probably had been for a long time. Would it be worth it to pursue her if it meant he would never have all of her. That night in New York, standing on his knees the most vulnerable her has ever been in his whole life just to be told that another man was more important. Could he do that to himself again?

The meeting ended and his questions still had no answer. As he turns the corner he bumps straight into Riley.

"Oh..I'm so sorry Riley. I guess I didn't see you there my heads been everywhere lately."

"It's fine Liam. Actually I was trying to find you. Drake...he wants to talk about last night. I have been dodging him till I could speak with you." She shifts in her stance checking around the corner to see if anyone is in earshot. "Last night was a mistake right?" She runs her fingers through her coils. "I love Drake and I don't know how I will explain it to him but--"

"Riley, you were pretty sloshed ." He takes her hand his soft eyes glance into her guilty ones. "Nothing happened."

"Yeah you can say that but we both know...." She stammers a bit as he tries to sooth her.

"Hey look at me the only two people that know about last night are me and you and if anyone asks me, nothing happened. You left the party a little too tipsy so I took you to your room. End of story."

Liam gives her his diplomatic smile the one that doesn't quite reach his eyes. It does the trick though as he hears Riley sigh in relief.

"I guess I should go find him." He holds onto her hands a few seconds longer before letting her go. And she is off to find the man she loves, not even bothering to say good bye.

"Kiara where are we?" Drake stumbles down the dim lightened hallway.The crown royal bottle was half empty by now and Kiara had shown him pretty much the whole estate. This side was different, it seemed pretty abandoned.

"Well since everyone pretty much bailed on the unity tour this whole wing is vacant. I figured that if you were going to cry on my shoulder for the rest of the night we should probably do it somewhere where no one could see you cry" She gives him a sly smirk opening one of the doors and cuts on a light. "This is the Billiard room... I thought you might like it."

Drake looks around the wood paneled room." It's nice Kiara but I just wanted to talk... maybe I should go back. I mean I acted like a cave man back there. It's her birthday and I should have just let her have her day. I need to go back.. to apologize." 

Drake turns towards the door but hears the ivory pool balls click together on the table and it grabs his attention to Kiara leaning over the table, her cleavage peaks from her shirt ass she does. Drake cant help but to moan slightly at the sight. In the right lighting, and with whiskey goggles she could be a dead ringer for Riley.

"Le jeux sont fait, Drake. I think what you need is a beak. She hands him  the pool stick. How abut I play you. I win you have to scream to the whole world that I beat you in pool." She points to the window nearest them, there's a large balcony waiting.

"What if I when?" He cocks a drunken smile to her as she steps a little closer to him, her eyes scanning his body. "Well that depends..." She says in a low wanting voice, she's only an inch away from him when she adds. "What do you want?"

Tag List:  If you want to be on the tag list permanently (this one is randomly selected with some permanent in as well)  let me know. If you DO NOT want to be tagged ever just send me a message I will not be upset.

@walkerismychoice@darley1101@speedyoperarascalparty@mfackenthal @jadedpixiescribbles@boneandfur @andy-loves-corgis   @blackcatkita@missevabean@snyggflicka@stopforamoment @agent-zephyrkah @endlessly-searching-for-you  @indiacater@tmarie82@mynameiskaylabella @umccall71 @hopefulmoonobject @choices97

@liam-rhys@viktoriapetit@alicars @jlouise88@mrsdrakewalkerblog@walkerisbae@butindeed@greyeyedsmile14 @barbaravalentino @mymandrake@client327 @confessionsofabrokegirl

[misterbitches]

here’s what confuses me. we are on a public platform and people are posting things, tagging them, and even just perusing. ostensibly to be heard and get engagement. that’s how the internet works and what it encourages. so when people put something out there especially when they make it localized (? is that a right word) for access, why is the critique or response, even if it’s unfavorable, now a problem? we put it out there and it exists, if someone stumbles upon it why wouldn’t they engage? otherwise, why bother with all this output? i mean not many people read my posts but it’s a good thing for me to have them because what i do write it helps me understand the world better and something mainstream in ways it could be better and what could be done to get away from it. helping understand the context and history of the problems i am seeing on screen in many diff ways. but i do make it seen for a reason. i have drafts or posts privately that are just for me that i don’t think others should see so that means i do not want that engagement and i am closing it off. 

it isn’t like people can’t see it and respond if they so choose  bc this is basically a tacit agreement of having this in public. so if you have an opinion and someone disagrees why would that be hard for you if you are the one who put it out there? we know how this website works and how the web works. do we just want to hear what we agree with or even just know? otherwise i wouldn’t know shit. even with my best friends we try and come to a form of understanding and get on the same page or ask questions. i don’t get upset when they say, “no, because” or introduce a new perspective and this happens with the people i am closest to. so on a public place what else would we get? we allow ourselves to be seen...

i don’t think i have blocked anyone but i know people have blocked me and it has been for probably me being annoying but still fairly innocuous when i reply with a critique or make a joke. you take this risk posting it every time. but i dont want to block people because they could be of value at some point even if i want nothing to do with them. but every time it so happens that i say something even a little off from what this person wants—and it’s generally when i go into things in detail—they shut down from the perception that i am being hateful or accusatory or unfair? even when i try de-escalation tactics or being like “calm down” (not that explicitly) so these seem to be very emotional responses to not hearing exactly what we want and knowing there’s objection when there should be anyway. even if pieces are damn near perfect there’s still something. i find it very hard to believe that there’s intense pain enacted on others for liking “unsavory” things when the “unsavory” is the mainstream and it is necessary to uphold these things and for capital to continue to produce what it does. you’re not different when you accept it into your life either critically or uncritically because that is the norm. so when people are knocking the norms, tropes, whatever it’s like a shock every time and like someone is telling you not to enjoy it. but, again, we put this shit out there and want a response so it cannot be just what we want to hear. i hate that i hate the idea that wanting a  work to be better and seeing shit critically even as a leftist or whatever is oppressive and limiting other ppl when it is in no way the same or even on par with being silenced in general because of the garbage you find in a work. you will still be the minority and it will still be popular so there’s a false sense of superiority put onto others who disagree by the ones who feel “attacked” or like they can’t defend themselves or whatever. and who fucking says? if some random says so like oh well man. you cannot compare it to the real shit these fans do and the massive fanbases they have and the shunning they love to do then feel as if they are priority in feelings.

 they say everyone is sensitive and not able to think about things with nuance but it’s the opposite most times. you aren’t and when someone pops up with it or even says something offhanded cos they dont feel like having a huge discussion that is not the same as pushing others down. there is no majority saying this is wrong and we don’t want it; there’s a majority dedicated to defending it, their choices, and frankly the false sense of even light persecution. especially as adults but in fandom you’re not encouraged to act as a fully fleshed out person for a majority reasons and esp in a fandom that will skew younger. they are reliant on rabid fans or uncritical ones and i have demonstrated that constantly and given quotes etc. we should talk about discourse and what the private owes to the public, what the state owes its viewers, what artists owe the people tuning in. we should talk abou tfreedom of speech forreal and what that means but if we go deep into that you’ll unveil more things you dont’ like how people absolutely rally against this shit and want nothing to do with it. if you don’t want to think about that that is fine but it doesn’t mean others won’t say it.

idk like it may seem insensitive but i dont like the idea that a person pointing out things that are gross or micro or macro agrressive or what the fuck ever is the ruler over the discourse and how people interact with the work when frankly that just isn’t the case in the pattern of the work that people do and utilizing fans and using capital to defend yourself and recreate industry. you may not like to hear that it’s all bullshit but people will say so and it holds not even close to the same weight that the tacit agreement in indulging can sway  us towards not great perceptions. the harm of pointing things out, or being rude, or whatever is not the same as what fans will do to those people and the obfuscation of the real fucking issue. 

now it’s no longer about the problems in itself but the way people are receptive to the way others respond when they have a problem with the very real and prominent problem. now there’s no interest in engagement or even seeing people who may have more to say to it. if we think constantly about defending our right to like a work then the work takes ona life of its own and it latches on to your emotions even more it’s so fucking silly bc it’s like....this shit isnt for us anyway and if it’s gonna be here we should make it better and talk about it but it’s not about that it’s not about the rapes it’s not about the culture it’s about personal feelings which is why it becomes about how we talk about it as if things that ever skew to the left or focus on liberation would ever be the most popular. since when did saying this is fucking bullshit, this shit sucks, this real “crime” means nothing because it’s just entertainment yet you must find ways to defend your right to see that entertainment. it makes no sense no one is talking about that we’re talking about the ins-and-outs of storytelling and the toxicity and nature of these REAL PROBLEMS THAT ARE PROBLEMS SINCERE PROBLEMS as in there is no negotiation in wrong or right because it is wrong in every sense it’s what you do with that wrongness and what the fuck you want to say. it’s not about what i say about them being fucking shitty about the way they say it. dont focus on the way i dislike it focus on what the fuck im saying man bc this shit is disingenuous and it COMPLETELY eclipses the issues and attitudes and it lets these fucking idiots off the fucking hook for making straight up garbage like not even in a sociopolitical way just thoughtless drivel sometimes. like most times i dont even hate the villains in these shows or the men who are o dark and fucked up but we still got to like them it’s literally like “no nigga like why r u here tho?” what do u fucking add. you’re dead space and they let us know it’s dead space by saying “oh man isn’t life SOOOO complex dont think about it just think about him being a nice rapist okay guys even tho we are gong to do NOTHING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to establish fucking any of that” 

this is what people said for tharntype and it’s what they say about fucking everything whether it’s about gay shit or not. good example is the star wars fans with that guy and that girl or wahtever in that stupid racist franchise. just clamoring to make sure we know you’re good and that you’re okay for thinking that way when no one says you aren’t. but if something is presented then expect to get a fucking response especially abut what it is about at its fucking core. enough of the bullshit about misunderstanding and acknowledge it’s about your comfort in your interests and not having that questioned or antagonized in a way that may implicate you are a bit complicit but fucking all of us are as consumers. you arent hurt for having an opinion that seems to not go with the flow but is certainly part of the status quo. the world relies relies on harm, in a way it is reliant on rape, and that permeates through us and always takes precedent. additionally, again, this shit is mad patriarchal so it does a disservice to us as well as women cos it’s like. no man that’s born out of misogyny actually. what can we do? well, dont rely on the state. but if you dont rely on the state then will you make real money? not the money we’re talking here with the genre in itself. to me that means they dont have an interest in showing different types of lives they have a majority interest in showing “attractive” “conventional” men kissing and making bank.

[lnc2]

Viral

Summary: The Ladyblog catches a private moment and Marinette is furious.

This story can also be found on FF.net and AO3.

The video was uploaded sometime after midnight early Saturday morning.  

As was usually the case after an akuma attack, Alya Cesaire had been running on a caffeine rush and adrenaline high that made sleep impossible.  The dedicated blogger would not see the back of her eyes until her copy was written, her files rendered, and her newest masterpiece was live for the entire world to see.

Or at least the majority of Paris.  She was young yet.

Fortunately for the aspiring journalist, the Ladyblog’s wide and devoted readership ensured that the hits would rack up quickly regardless of the time of posting.

What no one could have anticipated, however, was just how quickly.

It started with the local news.

Nadja Chamack’s bright-eyed good morning Paris grin punctuated the more somber news of floods, akumas, and politics with the light-hearted clip.  The segment usually reserved for heartwarming fluff pieces about eye-seeing dogs and neighborhood bake sales was instead taken over by the city’s most reliable ratings machine.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were television gold.

From there the clip hit the major news networks and was being broadcast to the whole of France. Then came the talk shows, the copycat blogs, the online articles, Buzzfeed, and more.  When the video hit the front page of Reddit there was no stopping the infection.

By the time Monday morning rolled around, less than three days after the akuma attack and the video going live, Chat Noir had become the laughing stock of Paris, the Internet, and the world.

And Marinette Dupain-Cheng was absolutely furious.

The akuma came first.

A recently humiliated magician on the warpath to take down his former theatre troupe, his embarrassment, rage, and all-consuming desire for vengeance left Paris a card-trick disaster in his wake.

Ladybug was of one mind with Chat Noir that his act was nothing ta-dah for.

However, it wasn’t Hawkmoth’s latest victim that had the whole of Paris tied up in fits.  It wasn’t Ladybug’s short-stint as a lovely volunteer and her near miss with a trick box and saw that was plastered all over the news.  Nor was it Chat Noir’s timely use of cataclysm to free her that had the blogs buzzing.

Not even the fact that the so-called Madgician managed to make the Eiffel-fucking-Tower disappear could distract the most avid of francophiles from this unanticipated dark horse of viral fixation.

No.

Out of every ridiculous rabbit-wielding, bullet-catching, table-of-death-defying moment, it was a 30-second clip caught by one sneaking Alya Cesaire that turned the eyes and ridicule of the world onto her partner.

It was a nothing of a video. Just a brief exchange after the akuma had been purified and the city restored.  It wasn’t even a great shot as the bottom left corner of the screen was obscured by what appeared to be the edge of a dumpster.  As if the person filming had been crouched down in an alleyway, which, knowing Alya, she probably had been.

In fact, the only remarkable thing about it was that she managed to get so close without either of them noticing her.

“So my Lady,” Chat Noir purred, reaching out for his partner’s hand and slowly lifting it to his lips.  “What was your card?”

Ladybug, triumphant, battle-worn, and very much aware of her beeping earrings, frowned.  “Excuse me?”

“Because mine was definitely the king of hearts.” He leaned in, mouth wide and flashing white.

“Oh no, minou.  That last fall must have you confused.” Ladybug freed her hand from his and gently pushed him back by his nose.  “Yours was definitely the joker.”

“Huh.” Chat didn’t seem at all discouraged.  If anything he grinned wider.  “Can’t blame a cat for that.  It was a hare-raising situation.”

“Oh my god,” But she was laughing as she punched him in the shoulder.

And that was it.

Nothing world-ending,

nothing to keep the masses awake at night.

Just her being her and Chat being Chat.

Just them being… them.

Until it wasn’t.

Because Alya’s candid camera work not only broadcast their private moment to the Ladyblog and an already too-invested Paris, but its sudden skyrocketing status put their relationship on blast.

There couldn’t just be Ladybug and Chat Noir now.

Now it was Ladybug, Chat Noir, and an ever-expanding chorus of voices, ridicule, and misplaced concern.

Because of a godforsaken meme.

It started with a fedora and a bad photoshop edit and spiraled out of control from there.  By Sunday evening the discourse had started and suddenly there was an influx of articles bashing Chat Noir as a Nice Guy™ or Ladybug as a tease for leading him on.  

Vindicated men dusting off their fedoras to add leather cat ears and concerned citizens writing articles letting Ladybug know that she didn’t owe her partner anything.

Body language specialists started appearing as guests on local talk shows to show how she liked him, how she didn’t like him, how they were already sleeping together

(Look at the way her shoulders are turned towards his hips. There’s definitely been intimacy there).

It was enough to make a girl scream.

And worst of all, it wasn’t just her.  She knew that Chat would be seeing everything as well.

How could he not.

Marinette had hardly been able to leave her house without hearing some one person or other laughingly throwing out “m’lady” to loved ones, passersby, the goddamn garbage man.

And she just knew this would hurt Chat.  That sensitive, pun-loving flirt.

This would mess with him. Mess with them.

How dare they.

How dare Alya.

“I can’t believe her,” Marinette muttered, furiously shoving her books and homework into her school bag for Monday.  Marinette might not be able to do anything to hurt the nameless online hoard, but she could definitely work out some of her frustrations on her friend.

“Marinette,” Tikki said softly.  “I think you should take tomorrow morning off.”

“I’m fine, Tikki,” She snapped.  When her kwami didn’t respond, she sighed.  “I’m sorry.  You didn’t deserve that.”

“It’s really admirable that you care so much about your partner,” Tikki said, floating from her place on Marinette’s desk so she could look her charge in the eye.  “Chat Noir is lucky to have a Ladybug like you.”

“God he must be so upset right now.  They’re all laughing at him, Tikki.  And Alya-”

“Doesn’t know that she’s hurting you.” Here the little god nuzzled into Marinette’s cheek.  “She’s your friend too, Marinette.  I know you’ll be devastated if you lose sight of that in a moment of anger.”

Ugh.

So now Marinette couldn’t even explain to her friend why she felt so betrayed.

She would have to stand there and listen to Alya as she raved about her hits, her clip being used on real news networks, the assholes who had already ripped her video and tried to claim it as their own.

She would have to nod and smile and be supportive and pretend that something personal and sacred hadn’t just been ripped away and exposed to the world.

Or at least, that was the plan she and Tikki decided on until the Ladyblog posted its newest article. The one capitalizing on its viral hit entitled Is Chat Noir A Nice Guy™ ?: A study in Ladybug and Chat Noir Interactions.

Marinette couldn’t even bring herself to read it in its entirety before she closed her browser and slammed her hands down on her keyboard.

So it was that nine hours later, running on little sleep and Tikki’s words echoing in her ear, that a stormy Marinette Dupain-Cheng stalked through the halls of her lycée.  Turning the corner to the locker room, she caught sight of Nino laughingly bowing over a grinning Alya’s hand and swallowed her infuriated scream.  She didn’t need to hear him to know he was saying “m’lady”.

Opting instead for sanity, Marinette brushed past them to the safety of her locker.  If she was trying to be inconspicuous she failed because Alya caught her immediately.

“Girl, where have you been?” She grabbed Marinette and pulled her in for a bone-crushing side hug that had her stiffening.  Alya was too excited to notice.  “You’ve been MIA all weekend and I’ve been dying to talk to you!  Did you lose your phone again?”

“No.”

“Did you not get my texts?”

Marinette sighed.  “I got your texts, Alya.  I was just busy.”

“Okay…” Alya was looking at her now.  Her excitement momentarily put aside as she took in her friend’s rumpled appearance. Her signature pigtails were in disarray and there were dark circles under her eyes that hinted at a restless night. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything is fine.”

Judging by her concerned frown, Marinette could see that Alya didn’t believe her but wasn’t going to press the issue.  Which was unfortunate really when her change of topic took them back to a place Marinette really didn’t want to go.

“Did you see my video?” Alya held up her phone, opened to the video in question.  “It’s all over the news!”

“Yeah, I saw it.” Here Marinette really couldn’t hide her annoyance. 

“What’s got your tails in a twist?”

“It’s nothing.” Alya rolled her eyes.

“It’s clearly not nothing.  Why don’t you stop stalling and just tell me what bug crawled up your butt and get it over with.”

“Fine,”  She slammed her locker shut, startling a nearby student who took one look at Marinette’s glare and took off down the hall.  “You want to know what my problem is?  It’s you, Alya.  You and that stupid video.”

“Stupid?”

Marinette ignored her.

“It’s only been three days and it’s everywhere.  The entire world is speculating about Ladybug and Chat Noir. How would you like it if people openly discussed whether or not you and Nino were going out?”

“People do openly discuss whether or not Nino and I are going out,” She said hotly.  “You’re my best friend, M.  Out of everyone I thought you would be happy for me.”

“Well maybe that moment was private and now you’ve gone and embarrassed him.”

“Him?”

Marinette scowled. “Not everything is for public consumption, Alya.”

“I’m a journalist, Mari. It’s my job.”

“Well you didn’t have the right!” She snapped and Alya took a step back at the vehemence in her friend’s voice.  “After all of the attention they’ve given you.  The private interviews, the shout outs – it just seems like a shitty way to repay them.”

Alya tapped her foot anxiously against the tile.  “I didn’t mean for people to make fun of them.”

“Yeah, well. It happened.” Marinette blew a strand of hair that had fallen into her face. “And you posting that article last night didn’t help either.”

A small pressure at her hip let her know she needed to calm down.

No matter how angry she was, in Alya’s mind she was Marinette and Marinette had no reason to be this upset.  Marinette would be happy for her.  Marinette would be sharing screenshots and sending champagne emojis with each new view. What Marinette would not be was hurt.

Ladybug however…

“… Marinette?”

There was a question she was not willing to answer.  Marinette crossed her arms against her chest and avoided Alya’s searching gaze

“Just forget it, Alya. Do what you want.” 

And before she could do anything else to put her identity in jeopardy, she turned away and took off down the hall.  Or rather, she tried to take off down the hall but only made it three feet before plowing into one rigid Adrien Agreste.

Her tell tale blush was nearly a habit at this point and she was too angry to care much about it. Marinette barely even had time to take in his own state of dishevelment and sleeplessness before muttering a hoarse sorry and fleeing down the hall.

Fucking perfect.

She sought refuge in an empty hallway.  Class was starting now but she couldn’t really bring herself to care about being tardy or the inevitable note her parents would receive.  Her backpack lay forgotten on the stairs beside her as she fought off the imminent guilt she would feel when her anger ebbed.

She shouldn’t have yelled at Alya like that.

Tikki didn’t say anything, for which Marinette was grateful.  Unwilling to risk coming out of her purse entirely, her kwami merely reached out and gently patted her thigh.

God this was a mess.

So caught up in her own misery Marinette missed the sound of approaching footsteps.  It wasn’t until Adrien was standing directly in front of her with nervous hands that she even realized he was there.

“Hey, um.” He gestured towards the stairs beside her. “Do you mind if I join you?”

Marinette blinked at him slowly as his words broke through her fog of misery and shame.  When they finally registered she sighed.

“I’m sorry, Adrien. I’m probably not the best company right now.”

 “You’re better than everyone else I’ll bet.”

She didn’t saying anything and he took her silence as acceptance and took a seat beside her on the steps.  The halls were quiet, save them, and Marinette closed her eyes as she tried to bring her emotions down to a baseline level.  Adrien seemed to understand her need for distance and just sat with her. Despite the nervous thrum she always felt when she saw him, it was paradoxically calming to have him with her now.

Gradually the tension in her chest and shoulders loosened and Marinette released a deep soul-cleansing sigh.

“Better?”

She nodded, opening her eyes.  Green stared back at her in concern. 

He looked exhausted.

“Thank you.  By the way.” He raised his hand and rubbed the back of his neck. A nervous tick that sent a burst of warmth through her chest. “For what you said.”

Marinette didn’t ask him why.

She had her suspicions about her partner.  Strong, well-founded, terrifying suspicions that she wasn’t quite ready to talk to him about.  But the conversation was looming.

“They’re all idiots. Everyone.”

“Yeah,” But he didn’t sound convinced.

Marinette wasn’t sure if he knew her identity yet.  If he didn’t, he was getting there.  Her kitty wasn’t stupid.

“It’s none of their business.”

“Maybe they have a point though,” He watched her from the corner of his eye.  “Maybe it is a stupid nickname.”

“It is not a stupid nickname,” Marinette snapped, startling them both.  “And who are they to decide?  Or you for that matter.  If Ladybug doesn’t mind then who the hell cares what anyone else thinks.”

He was quiet.  She sighed.

“They’re jerks, Adrien.”

“Alya’s not a jerk,” he said half-heartedly.

“Yeah, well she acted pretty thoughtlessly.”

Marinette took in Adrien’s uncharacteristically mussed hair and the dark circles beneath his eyes. His clothes, as always, were immaculate but such was the life of a fashion mogul’s son. 

No, his distress was more subtle than that.  It was in the tightness of his shoulders, the rigidity of his spine, and the way his hands kept fidgeting.  It was like someone had taken a dimmer switch on his soul and turned it all the way down. Watching him, her heart broke all over again.

Pushing aside the voice in her head that screamed this is a bad idea Marinette shifted on the staircase so that she and Adrien were side by side.  She ignored his startled look and grabbed his hand instead.

“You know,” She said, squeezing his hand gently.  “They’re just being assholes because they can’t handle that Chat Noir is smooth enough to use a line like that and get away with it.”

Adrien turned away from her but she could still see the creeping pink on his cheeks.  She released his hand and he rubbed the back of his neck again as if he could force his embarrassment down.

Cute.

“Smooth, huh?”

Marinette grinned.

“Yeah, but don’t let it get back to him,” She bumped his shoulder.  “I hear his ego’s ridiculous enough as it is.”

They fell into a companionable silence.

It was nice. 

To just sit there with him when there wasn’t any akuma, or threat, or secrets (mostly). 

It was also terrifying.

To be Marinette while he was Adrien,

was to be without her suit

to be without her skin

and exposed for everything she was.

And Chat Noir knew her flaws better than most.

She tapped her fingers nervously against the stairs.  “I’m going to have to apologize to Alya, aren’t I?”

“Maybe.”

“Ugh.”

Now it was Adrien who nudged her with his shoulder.  “She didn’t do it to hurt anyone.”

“I know.  I just wish she’d… think beyond the story for once.”  She begrudgingly stood up and wiped the dust off her capris.  “I guess it’s time to pay the piper.”

Marinette looked down at him.  Despite their talk and the small smile pulling at his lips his shoulders were still tense.  Like the dimmer switch was still on.

She didn’t like that. Not when there was something she knew she could do to make it go away.

Well, now’s as good a time as any.

Before she could second guess herself, Marinette leaned forward to ruffle Adrien’s mussed hair into a more properly Chatlike disaster.  The action seemed to almost electrify him and she smiled as she met the questions in his eyes.

“Cheer up, Chaton. Things aren’t as bad as they seem.”

It was worth her miniature heart attack to see his eyes light up with comprehension, confirmation, and triumph as the last link fell into place.  A devastatingly shy grin broke out and transformed him and Marinette found she could not scold her heart into a steady rhythm.

Lord she was in trouble.

But that was a problem for another time.  For now she reached out and took his offered hand as she pulled him to his feet. Meeting his happy grin with one of her own, Marinette squeezed his hand briefly before letting go.

Still beaming, Adrien’s eyes shined as he made a wide sweeping gesture and bowed.  And even though she knew it was coming, her heart still gave a happy stutter when he laughed and said

“After you, my Lady.”