#the halo has an actual reasoning for being there besides looking cool as fuck

[starocide]

Reawaken

[toomuchracket]

costumes (birthday party!matty x reader smut)

day 30 of promptober, and we're coming full circle on toomuchracket with some smut for these two! this is actually incredibly smutty, but kinda cute too - basically, matty's scientist halloween costume is really bloody doing it for you. enjoy! <3

"text me so i know you're home safe, yeah?"

"of course, babe. thanks for having us," your friend kisses your cheek, before being pulled away by her fiancé towards the waiting taxi. "and don't forget - bridesmaid dress shopping next week!"

"like you'd let me forget!" you shout after her. "bye, darlings!"

you wave until the gate closes behind them, and you're about to shut the front door when you hear matty call from the bottom of the steps down to the living room. "ah! wait a second before you close that door, please, sweetheart."

"why, baby?" your brow furrows, as your boyfriend walks slowly up towards you, the lab coat he's wearing as part of his scientist costume blowing slightly in the breeze from the open door. "d'you need fresh air, or something?"

matty smiles softly, leaning against the concrete wall when he reaches you and the landing. "nah. just wanted to look at you in the moonlight, s'all. you're glowing, babe."

"you- stop it, you're making me blush," you huff out; not in irritation, but rather slightly self-consciously, arms wrapping around your body as if to shield it from your boyfriend's gaze. you know he means it - he's complimented you in a similarly devastating way almost daily for the past eight months, after all - but you can't help but be overwhelmed by it. and by matty in general, actually.

the boyfriend in question giggles, and the love in his eyes is unmistakable even in the dim, pale moonlight. "but it's true! you're ethereal. apt, i guess, given the angel costume. which i still think is lovely, even if it is just white lingerie and a halo. not that i'm saying you shouldn't have worn it - not at all, my god, you look perfect - but i'd have appreciated a warning, sweetheart. thought my knees were going to give way when you walked into the kitchen earlier."

the memory of matty's face when he first saw you tonight crosses your mind, pulling a satisfied hum from your throat as it does. you'd suspected the white silk babydoll dress would have an effect on him, but not to the extent it did; he's pretty good at keeping his cool whenever you rile him up around your friends (inadvertently or not), but he almost dropped his wine glass in time with his jaw when you entered the room, eyes widening under his glasses.

those fucking glasses.

"mine almost did, too, baby," you gently close the door and walk slowly towards your boyfriend, swaying your hips very deliberately so your dress swishes and exposes your bare thighs.

just as you'd intended, matty's eyes lock onto your legs, pretty lips parting in desire - annoyingly, though, he snaps out of your little trance to look up at your face and smirk. "well, those heels are really high, sweetheart."

"i mean, yeah, but that's not the reason my legs almost gave out, baby," you smile as you reach matty, moving to lean your back against the wall beside him, looping your arms around his shoulders and tugging him into you. shifting your weight onto one leg (and winking at your boyfriend when he holds your waist to steady you), you cheekily slide the side of your foot up the side of his shin. "do you like my heels, though?"

matty's breath catches in his throat, which he has to clear before he speaks. "they're… yeah, they're sexy. i like them a lot. but," he regains control of himself again, which would irk you if he wasn't so sexy when he's self-assured. "if it wasn't the shoes that affected you, darling, then what was it? or who, perhaps?"

the smirk drops from your face, while a shit-eating grin appears on matty's. you sigh, twirling his curls around your fingers. "you're really going to make me admit it?"

"you know i like it when you tell me what gets you going, darling," matty's hands slide down your hips and up under your dress, coming (home) to rest on your ass. you shiver, partially from his cool touch, partially from the way his lips ghost up your neck. "come on. open up, gorgeous."

"it - oh, i like that," you whimper as your boyfriend sucks a bruise above your clavicle. "jesus, fuck… ok, fine, it was your glasses that got me."

matty's head snaps up to look at you immediately; you pout at the loss of his lips on your skin. "my glasses?"

"yeah," you look at the ground, feeling the heat of a blush creeping up your cheeks. "i think they're really sexy."

"really? in what way?"

you nervously peek at matty, expecting to see him smirking smugly at you - you're pleasantly surprised to see he looks genuinely curious. "promise you won't laugh?"

your boyfriend nods. "cross my heart."

"alright. well," you begin, smiling shyly at him. "this is kinda porny…"

you don't think you've ever seen matty's eyes light up so quickly in your life. boys, honestly.

"...but you look like a really hot nerd tonight, and i haven't stopped thinking about, like, pretending to sneak you into my bedroom so you can help me with my biology homework. reproduction," you giggle nervously at how daft you sound. "i know it's silly. but it's all i can think about."

matty's hands pause their gentle kneading. he stays silent, looking at you with an unreadable expression in his eyes and the faintest hint of a smile on his lips.

that smile should make you feel alright about your fantasy, but it's matty. he's never quiet. neither are you, in this moment, panic making you babble. "but like obviously we've never tried roleplay and actually i don't know if i'd even like it i just think in theory it's hot and of course if you're not into it we can just forget i ever said anything and never address it again and-"

"darling," matty firmly cuts off your rambling, which you're actually quite thankful for given that your body's oxygen supply is rapidly depleting with every word. "does this make it seem like i'm not into it?"

his hands slip to the backs of your thighs and lift you up, eliciting a squeak from you as you automatically wrap your legs around your boyfriend's waist. he grinds his hips into you, as slow as dripping honey, and all nerves about his response to your admittance slip out of your mind, under the front door, off into the cold night.

matty's hard. really hard.

it's your face's turn to light up. "you like my daydream, then?"

"wanna make it a reality, sweetheart," matty smiles, kissing you - long and slow, just the way you like it. he blinks quite adorably when he pulls away for air. "right now, if you'll let me."

"please," you breathe against his lips. "been waiting for everyone else to fuck off all night so you could take me to bed."

"oh, sweet girl, you needed me that much?" matty coos, grinding into you again as he does. "let's go and do something about that, then."

with that, you set off, matty carrying you through the house to the bedroom with surprising speed. you don't know why you're surprised, though - you've done this too many times to count since that first night you got together. a happy little hum leaves your lips as you remember that night - the best of your life, it has to be said - and how desperate you were for matty to fuck you. nothing's changed on that front; you don't think it ever will.

he's gotten better at laying you down on the bed, though. instead of the graceless chucking of your first time, matty sets you down gently at the end of the bed and crawls over you, caging your body to the mattress and locking his lips onto yours. it's not a sweet kiss, by any means; his teeth sink deliciously into your lip, just the perfect amount of painful, and his tongue follows, soothing the bite and adding the pleasure. matty kisses like he does everything in life, with total conviction and determination, and you can't get enough. so much so that you can't stop yourself whining when he pulls away.

"oh, you are needy today, darling," matty smirks. "i love it. and i love you."

"i love you," you sit up on your elbows to kiss him again. "make me feel good, please?"

"always," matty kisses your forehead, hands trailing up to your shoulders, dexterous fingers sliding under the straps of your dress. "may i?"

for the second, but likely not the last time tonight: "please."

he obliges, sliding the straps and cups of your lingerie down, gently lifting your hips to slide the silk off your body and throw it carelessly to the floor. half-naked, you rest back on your elbows and just drink in the way matty looks at you with a cocktail of adoration and sheer want in his eyes; an odd mix, really, but you think it's delicious.

and as content as you are to have him look at you like that, you'd be more content reminding him of how delicious you are. careful that your stilettos don't catch on the bedsheets, you pull your knees closer to you and spread your legs. "i think i'm ready to begin my lesson now."

matty smirks. it's devastatingly attractive. "will you be a good girl for me?"

you steal his line. "always."

"that's what i like to hear. gold star for you, darling," he leans forward to kiss you again, but springs back quickly to gawk at you. "wait a fucking minute."

"what?"

that bloody smirk again. "this is all to do with your academic validation thing, isn't it?"

that's the thing about matty - he knows you better than you know yourself. shit. the blush returns full force to your cheeks, burning enough to heat your whole naked body on this chilly october night. "fuck. probably. is that a turn-off?"

"is it fuck," matty scoffs. he cups one of your tits, smiling at the way you jerk when he gently squeezes it. "i fucking love praising you, baby, almost as much as i love getting you off. and i'm about to do both of those things. yeah?"

"yeah," you reply breathily, as his other hand comes up to your other tit. "fuck, that's good."

matty hums happily. "lesson number one, gorgeous," he quickly pushes his glasses back up his nose, and you clench your thighs at the sight. "breasts. a quick lesson, because they're not too involved in the stage of reproduction we're learning about today, but," he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, smiling around the bud as you moan. "they're fun to play with during it. understand?"

your head is spinning, and he hasn't even properly done anything yet; you force it to nod, pre-empting his request for verbal answers and squeaking out a "yes". jesus. telling matty about this fantasy was a great idea.

he seems to think so too, sliding his hand down your body and beaming when he makes contact with your soaked underwear. "oh, sweetheart, i think i'm going to need a closer look at this."

"wait," you sit up quickly as matty prepares to shuffle further down the bed, carefully taking his glasses off and putting them safely on the bedside table. "there we go."

matty's brow furrows. "but i need those?"

you smirk. "not if you're going get up close and personal with me, you don't. feel free to put them back on later, though!"

"fair enough, darling," matty moves to kneel on the floor at the foot of the bed, tugging you towards him by the calves. "let me just… uncover the next specimen for analysis, yeah?"

with a giggle, you lift your hips so your boyfriend can slide your panties off; with a wink, he puts them in the breast pocket of his lab coat, and spreads your legs again. there's something really fucking hot about matty being fully clothed while you're naked, save your heels, and you feel the heat shoot straight to your core; it must show visibly, too, because matty groans as he looks at your cunt from millimetres away. "a fucking perfect specimen. and," he presses a kiss to your inner thigh as he looks up at you. "already nicely aroused. very nicely, to be precise."

fuck. this is doing it for you far more than you expected, probably because matty's committing to the bit so much. not that you'd expect anything less from him, but it's good that he's having just as much fun with this as you are.

the praise makes you preen. "all for you, baby."

"good girl."

another gush. matty's face lights up. "beautiful," he smiles at you, that full-face beam you'd do absolutely anything to see, and your heart feels like it might pack in from how much you love him. "and more than ready for our next lesson. are you happy to continue, sweet girl?"

"eagerly so."

"ideal. now, this section isn't strictly intrinsic to the act of reproduction, but i maintain that if you aren't including it you don't deserve to reproduce. or do anything at all, for that matter," matty says matter-of-factly, and you have to cover your mouth to prevent bursting into laughter and killing the mood. "female pleasure. i assume you're familiar with the sensation, darling?"

"extremely."

your boyfriend can't help himself. "too fucking right you are, my girl," he clears his throat and composes himself. "anyway. clitoral stimulation - often overlooked or deeply misunderstood by the male subspecies, a truth you'll unfortunately likely also be familiar with, but extremely pleasurable to the receiver and giver if done correctly. there are multiple methods of stimulation; one of the most common is digital. that is, with the digits, like so."

as his sentence draws to a close, matty's calloused thumb quickly finds your clit and begins circling slowly. as soon as he makes contact with the bundle of nerves, a choked moan escapes your lips, the first of a series of sounds your boyfriend draws out of you as he varies tempo and pressure of his hand movements. an epicurean symphony isn't the only thing matty manages to draw out of your body as he works your clit; after a few minutes and several rough kisses to your inner thighs, you can feel an orgasm building within your body, matty seemingly pulling pure pleasure out of your very bones through your clit.

agonisingly, just as you open your mouth to warn him of your imminent climax, he slows down his circling. "of course, other methods may be preferred dependent on the individual giver. for example, in my own personal opinion, the superior form of clitoral stimulation is… oral."

jesus christ.

you're barely able to inhale a full breath before matty's mouth is on you, and you lose it all anyway by screaming as his lips and tongue suck and lick and flick at your clit. he's relentless, all composure gone, tugging you impossibly closer to his eager mouth as he all but makes out with your just-as-eager cunt. the pleasure builds again inside you, faster this time, and you can feel yourself beginning to teeter on the precipice of orgasm when…

he fucking pulls away again. the bastard.

you whine, and matty kisses your lower stomach in what appears to be apology. "i know, sweetheart, i know," he coos, thumb feather-light on your clit. "you're being such a good girl for me, learning all your lessons so well. one more lesson to go, my darling, and then i'll make you feel good without interruption, yeah?"

"promise?" you croak out.

"i promise, sweet girl," matty nods. "because this is where it starts to get a bit more like the classic act of reproduction - we're introducing penetration. now," he slides two fingers up and down your cunt, covering them in your wetness and pressing them on the sides of your clit, making you jolt. "this can be done as an independent act, but i think it's a lot more gratifying - and fun - to pair it with the oral stimulation from before. start with the penetration," matty slowly pushes his fingers inside you and thrusts them back and forth, both your jaws dropping at the feeling. "my god, that's good - and then add your mouth back into the equation, like so."

he literally announced it was coming, and still the feeling of matty's lips on your clit as he finger-fucks you has you screaming. if you could keep your eyes from rolling back into your head at the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through your body right now, you'd maybe notice the way matty's concernedly flick up to your face to make sure you're alright - when he confirms your screams are the good kind, his eyes soften, but the black lust within them doesn't disappear. if anything, it gets darker the closer your boyfriend pushes you to the edge, the inaudible analytical murmurs of "you can add another finger for extra stimulation" and "hook them inside to stimulate the g-spot" and god knows what else vibrating through your clit and into your already-fraught nervous system.

it's almost too much for you to handle. your jaw is locked in place, throat muscles tightened to the point where anything but a strangled moan is unable to escape your lips, fingers practically threaded into the sheets themselves as if it's the only thing stopping you from floating away on a cloud of complete ecstasy. ironically, since he's the one making you feel so ecstatic, it's actually matty that's keeping you tethered to this earthly plane - his muscled arms are locked around your convulsing thighs as he sucks and finger-fucks you within an inch of your life. even then, you're still almost dipping in and out of consciousness, of reality, so strong is the buildup of pleasure within you.

you're not sure exactly what it is that finally triggers it, or how long it's taken you to get to that point. but matty does something, and you actually feel something twinge in your cunt as the buildup of pleasure erupts inside you. and that's it.

for the first time in your life, you squirt. you scream matty's name so loudly you almost lose your voice, as you cum so hard that you gush all over your boyfriend's hand and face, a motion you're only vaguely aware of in between split-second long blackouts as your body tries to recover.

matty quickly pulls his fingers from you, a string of excited swear words leaving his mouth as he processes what just happened. he's hovering over you within seconds of your orgasm ending, holding your face in his hands and speaking softly as you come to. "oh, my good girl, my perfect girl, that was absolutely incredible. fuck. how did that feel, darling? how do you feel now? are you alright? talk to me, sweetheart, please."

"felt perfect," you manage to breathe out, smiling dazedly at the gorgeous man above you. "feel so good. thank you."

"i love you," matty kisses you, short and sweet. "that was just… i don't think i'll ever be able to stop thinking about it. i know i say this about something every time i see you naked, but that was the hottest thing i've ever experienced, darling. honestly. i've never been more turned on."

"mmm, love you," you bring a shaky hand up to caress matty's cheek; he turns his head slightly to kiss your palm. "and i want you to feel good now. wanna have sex with you, please."

"are you sure you feel up to it?"

"i am. i do. i want you, baby."

"jesus," matty rests his head on your chest for a second. "alright. but i don't think i have the control to do another lesson roleplay, darling - need to fuck you too much."

you shrug. "i'm a kinesthetic learner anyway. show me what's what!"

matty laughs, quickly yanking off his lab coat and tie. "you're my favourite fucking person on the planet," he kisses your nose while he unbuttons his shirt and throws it to the ground too.

stretching, you sigh happily at the sight of his tattooed torso. "you're just saying that because you made me squirt all over you."

"nah, that's just a bonus," your boyfriend grins, kicking off his trousers. "i mean it, though, you really are my favourite. gonna marry you someday."

a gentle wave of love washes over you. "really?"

"really. but first," matty teases your hole with the head of his dick. "i'm going to fuck you."

he's inside you immediately after the words leave his mouth, sinking into you with a moan you echo in your slightly-broken voice. "shit, babe," matty moans, lips tangy with the taste of your arousal. "you feel too good - there's no way i'm going to last long."

"s'ok, baby," you whimper, legs on your boyfriend's shoulders. "you've made me feel amazing, s'about time you took a turn."

despite his exertion - he really is fucking you determinedly - matty huffs out a laugh. "sweetheart, that doesn't mean we won't be able to get you off again," he smirks, not unkindly, tenderly brushing a stray hair from your face. "if it's not too sensitive, can you be my good girl and rub your clit for me, make yourself feel good?"

oh, fuck. you nod, brain and voice taking a second to catch up to your head and neck. "i can do that."

"show me."

eyes locked on matty's, you bring your hand to your clit, and rub the same slow circles your boyfriend did on you earlier. "like this?"

"yeah, just like that, shit," matty's thrusts quicken; you speed up your circling to match, whining and clenching around him as another orgasm quickly approaches. "fuck, baby, are you gonna cum again for me?"

"yeah."

"do it then, sweetheart," matty pants, bringing his head down to rest in the crook of your neck. your free hand tangles itself in his hair, and he moans into your skin as he speeds up yet again. "whenever you're ready… cum."

still sensitive from your earlier earth-shattering climax, and driven to the edge by the combination of your own hand, matty's hips driving into yours, and his fucking voice, another orgasm crashes through you. it's nowhere near as strong as the first, but it's enough to pull your boyfriend to the edge with you. "darling," he manages to croak out, thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier the better he feels inside. "where can i cum?"

"on my face, please," you pant, chest heaving with aftershocks. "s'only fair, after i came on yours."

the mere mention of your earlier orgasm is enough to tip matty off the edge. groaning the sexiest groans you've ever heard, matty pulls out of your ruined cunt as you sit up closer to him, jerking himself to a finish all over your elated face. it's a bit depraved, but you fucking love it. you fucking love him.

once he's decorated you sufficiently, matty collapses onto your chest, breathing like he's just run a marathon. he's spent, you both are, but he still finds the energy to sit straight up and look at you with a panicked expression. "baby, you had your wings on that whole time?!"

"hmm?" you lazily turn your head to look at your own shoulder. sure enough, the elastic strap of your angel wings is still there; you tentatively lift it, to find the skin underneath red and tender. but still, you giggle. "oh, shit, that's fun! wait, i must still have my halo on, too, then."

"yeah, you do," matty smiles lovingly at you. "it's quite a sight, actually, baby, your halo askew and my cum all over your face."

"well, the wonky halo is thematic, i s'pose," you laugh. "considering what we just did wasn't very angelic."

matty kisses your jaw. "nah, you were a good girl for me. still an angel in my eyes, albeit a slightly slutty angel."

"your slightly slutty angel."

another kiss. "mine, all mine."

[wardenannie]

Just friends

In the beginning they aren’t friends at all. Not even remotely. 

Hange is too excitable for Levi, and Levin too severe for Hange. Though the scientist attempts to feign cordiality between the two of them, Levi does nothing to conceal his disdain. It is only after Erwin calls them into his office and speaks to them sternly that they finally come to a silent agreement with one another. 

Just friends begins with a sort of truce. An understanding between them that perhaps they aren't so different, or they are, but they can learn to overcome those differences for the sake of synergy in the field.

That is what Erwin wants, after all. 

They still poke fun, but it's more lighthearted than it was before. More playful. There is a gentleness to it, a light. It brings some levity to those brutal, bloody days that linger in the backs of their minds. They actually begin to take some small comfort in each other’s presence, though neither of them are willing to admit it allowed, and most certainly not to each other. 

When just friends becomes staying up and drinking tea and whisky into the budding hours of dawn, neither of them can say. But more than once they are the only two left standing among a field of drunken allies.

They look at one another, and even Levi, dead sober, sipping his tea, cannot help but smirk.

When Hange passes out in his lap he reluctantly allows the contact, that is until they drool on him, at which point he surreptitiously slips a pillow beneath their cheek. 

He pretends not to watch them sleep, only for a moment.  

He doesn’t find their peaceful expression enchanting. He doesn’t secretly find them handsome with their russet hair covering their eyes, mingling with their lashes. He pushes it out of their face anyways. 

They’re just friends.

Just friends becomes casual touches. Passing smiles (or affectionate scowls in Levi’s case). It becomes easy nights spent in silent company. Nights spent in Hange’s lab, or lounging in the library. It becomes silent understanding, a fleeting consciousness of what the other is about to say or do. 

Just friends becomes a sort of casual, platonic intimacy that has their comrades whispering and casting them knowing glances. But they simply ignore it. They are just friends after all. 

When just friends begins to entail tending one another's wounds is about two years after their first meeting. Hange limps to his quarters, calf a bloody tattered mess from a nasty three-meter bite.

"I can't go to the infirmary," they explain. “If Erwin finds out about this he’ll bench me.” 

He scolds them as he treats the wound with iodine and wraps it in clean gauze. 

“You need to be more careful, four-eyes. It could have taken your leg clean off,” he tries to disguise the way his hands shake as he cleans each of the shallow gouges which hug Hange’s calf in a gory half moon. 

They hiss and wince as dirt and debris are washed away, leaving only ragged flesh which will surely scar. 

Levi pretends that their obvious discomfort doesn’t perturb him, but it does. Another new development. He cares for them, loathe as he is to admit it. 

Just friends becomes sharing a bed with surprising swiftness after that. 

It is after a particularly gory expedition beyond Wall Maria. Many of their comrades fall, never to rise again. The blood runs in rivers over the fallow earth, bones crunch between massive, inhuman teeth. And the screams. The screams bite into both of them; leaching into their very cores and clinging there like poison; breeding doubt, fear. 

The knock comes on Levi’s door well past midnight. That he is still awake is a coincidence he cares not to consider too closely.  

He knows its Hange without asking. Who else would be so bold as to disturb Captain Ackerman’s beauty sleep? 

“Come in?” He’s reading a book by candlelight and doesn’t so much as glance up as Hange Zoe enters the room, shutting the door carefully behind themself. 

“Levi...” 

He glances over the top of his book; stare cool but not unkind, “Why are you bothering me so late at night, shitty-glasses? You should be asleep.” 

Hange lingers at the threshold, clad in loose sleep clothing. Levi pretends he can’t see their nipples poking through the gauzy fabric of their shirt, “I could say the same about you.” 

A long, pained silence passes between the two of them. A quiet sort of understanding. 

Slowly, Levi lowers his book into his lap. Then he peels back the covers, scooting over and making room for Hange beside him. 

“Bad dreams?” He asks, already knowing the answer he will receive.

Hange crosses the room and sits on the edge of the bed, they rest their elbows on their knees, steepling their fingers in front of their face, “Yeah. You?”

Levi swallows thickly and nods. 

“Can I...” Hange turns their face away, glancing out the window in a paltry attempt to disguise their flush, “Can I stay here tonight?” 

Levi doesn’t so much as hesitate, “Yes.” 

Tentatively, Hange lowers themself into the mattress, stealing away one of Levi’s pillows. They don’t touch. They don’t speak a word once Hange has settled in beside Levi. The captain simply reaches over his comrade and snuffs out the candle, cloaking them in darkness. 

And so just friends becomes best friends in a night. 

The territory of best friends is accompanied by a new found respect for one another. A respect that runs deeper than that which had already existed between them. Occasionally Levi will glance up at Hange to find that their eyes are already on him. Usually they are smiling. But on rare occasions their expression is more contemplative; thoughtful and distant. 

Levi tries not to think about it too deeply. What it could mean. What they could be thinking while they stare at him with such intensity. 

Then the meaning of just friends who happen to be best friends shifts again during a hard fought battle beyond the suffocating succor of the Walls. 

Levi jerks awake, head throbbing, mouth dry and tasting of blood. The world around him is blurry at first, and he struggles to recall where he is until it slowly comes into focus. 

There are arms around him, supporting his aching head and clutching at his hand. A voice calls out to him, low and panicked. 

“Levi? Oh thank fuck, Levi,” it’s Hange. Levi can’t quite remember where he is, but he could place Hange’s voice anywhere. Slowly, they come into focus over him. Their head is ringed with sunlight that shines from behind them, creating the illusion of a halo around them as they look down on him. 

It strikes him how perfect they are. Gorgeous. Handsome. Hawkish nose and wide, bright eyes, olive skin and russet hair. Imperfectly perfect. 

Their wine-colored eyes shine with worry. They touch his face, tenderly, “Can you speak?” 

“Yeah,” Levi rasps, and it finally comes back to him. A titan had emerged as if from nowhere and swept him out of the sky, knocking him head first into the cold, hard ground. Hange saved his life, felling the thing at the last moment before it took the Captain into its jaws. 

For a moment it is enough to stun him. But isn’t that what best friends do for one another? 

It is that night in Levi’s tent that they go from being just friends who are also best friends, to best friends who kiss in the dark. 

Hange refuses to be parted from him. Insisting that he needs supervision due to his possible concussion. Levi doesn’t argue as they help him to his sleeping bag. Outside the stars hold their silent, glittering vigil, and the moon hangs low and radiant in the sky, bleeding through the canvas of the tent just enough to allow for some visibility. 

“Try to stay awake,” Hange says softly, sitting beside him. They touch his forehead, pushing his hair away from his eyes. Their touch lingers, and Levi cannot help but notice the way their eyes seem to glimmer in the dark. 

When they lean forward and press their lips to his it is chaste, delicate and fleeting. But when they try to pull away he cups the back of their neck and tugs them back to him, sitting up slightly so he can kiss them from an improved angle. 

“Just friends,” he rasps between hurried kisses. Hange occupies all of his senses, from their earthy scent to the sharp taste of them on his tongue. He loves it. He would gladly drown himself in Hange Zoe. 

Hange nods, curling into his side, kissing him again, “Just friends blowing off steam.” 

Just friends, best friends, best friends who kiss in the dark; they carry on that way for months. Stealing kisses in those quiet moments between meetings and missions. 

It isn’t long before hands begin to roam. Curious fingers searching over one another’s bodies as they chase each other’s tongues over eager, sliding lips. But they hold back. They resist that primordial drive for sex with everything they have. Because how can they be just friends if they’re having sex? How could they cross that line without jeopardizing everything they have built with one another? 

But the others know. Mike, Nanaba, Moblit, even Erwin... they all know. The teasing glances have turned to those of legitimate concern, the passing comments have turned into genuine appeals for common sense. And so they are met with the second reason to remain just friends, best friends, friends who kiss in the dark; the life of a soldier is not one which can accommodate love. Real unconditional love. Duty will always take precedent. 

Then comes the night where kissing in the dark is not longer enough. 

It was never really enough, but things finally reach a boiling point. 

Hange is in their lab, working well past midnight when Levi stumbles in. He is clad in nothing but a pair of loose fitting sleep pants, slate eyes wild. He is flushed, covered in a thin sheen of sweat. 

A nightmare. He’s had a nightmare. Hange bleeding in his arms. Dying. Not from a wound inflicted by a titan but from a series of bullet holes bored into their middle. Weeping blood, crimson welling over his fingers despite the pressure he applied. 

The image clings to the backs of his eyes, boring its way into his soul, his heart, his mind and consciousness. Hange; killed by another human, not a titan, but a man. Suddenly nowhere feels safe or sacred. He wants to take Hange into his arms and flee. Flee until the world cannot catch them. 

Kisses in the dark could never fix this. It feels like nothing could fix this. 

“Levi?” Hange turns away from their work, a collection of bubbling beakers resting on the wooden countertop. Their expression is one of concern as he crosses the room and pulls them roughly into his arms. 

“I can’t fucking do this anymore,” He snarls, and then he kisses them roughly, pushing the small of their back into the hard edge of the counter. The beakers rattle and several spill over with the force of his body against theirs. 

Hange moans into his mouth, melting into him, arms winding around the back of his neck as he helps them up and onto the counter. They shift backward, experiment forgotten, and suddenly they are anything but just friends. 

Levi buries himself in Hange with little foreplay or preamble, but they are already wet and pliant, ready for him. 

The sex is fast and desperate. Hange buries their face against Levi’s neck, feeling the erratic pace of his pulse as he delves into them. 

“I love you,” they whimper. Because they do. With everything they have they love their Captain. Levi Ackerman. Humanity’s strongest. Theirs.

Levi fucks them harder for it. Because it can’t be. They’re just friends. Best friends. Friends who kiss in the dark and make frantic love at the thought of losing one another. Just friends.

Just friends. 

Just friends. 

Levi comes inside of Hange with a broken sob. Their fingers are in his hair, lips on his as they follow him over the edge. They’re crying, too. Tears mingle between their mouths as they work one another up again. 

They dress, but only long enough to reach Levi’s quarters, at which point they peel away their clothing and fall into bed together. All of it is wordless, silent knowing passes between them. Each anticipates the other’s movements and react with according passion. 

They make love again. Slower, softer. Hange’s soft cries fill up the room, punctuated by Levi’s muffled grunts as he buries his own noises in their damp skin. 

“This is perfect,” Hange whispers, nails raking down Levi’s switching back. And then they say it again, “I love you.” 

Wetness floods between them as Hange comes first. Levi rocks them through it, body wracked with pleasure, mind wracked with confusion, fear of what will happen come sunrise, when this new, precious thing between them has been exposed to the light of day. 

But is it really so new? Has he not always loved Hange Zoe? Have they not occupied his every waking thought for years as he refused to acknowledge his own attractions?

He looks down as he fucks into them, finds their wine-colored gaze is locked on his face. They reach up and cup his cheek, soft moans slipping past their lips as his hips stutter and he finishes inside of them for the second time that night. 

“Hange,” The way he speaks their name is ragged, like a desperate prayer on his lips. He kisses them. He never wants to stop kissing them. 

“I love you,” Hange breathes between kisses. They roll onto their sides, their faces illuminated by a shaft of silvery moonlight through the window. “You don’t have to say it back but I can’t be just friends anymore, Levi. It’s driving me crazy.” 

They kiss him, “Seeing you.”

Again, “Touching you.” 

A third time, slower, wet, lingering, “But not being with you.” 

Levi’s hands are on their hips, caressing up their sides. He feels the goosebumps he leaves in his wake, and knows he shares a similar physiological reaction to Hange’s own touch. 

But they’re just friends. Just friends, best friends, friends who kiss in the dark, friends who make desperate love and whisper heartfelt confessions under cover of night. Just friends. 

Hange touches his cheek, “Say something, please, Levi.” 

His lips part, but he struggles to find the words to express his emotions. Nothing makes sense in that moment. The world has tilted on its axis, everything is changed, and yet nothing is. 

“We were never just friends, shitty-glasses,” he says, finally. His eyes are glassy, gaze turned up to peer out the window at the night sky. The stars show their brilliant faces, glittering, and Levi wonders if perhaps their fate is written somewhere in that serene darkness. 

“We’ll keep it a secret for as long as we can,” Hange reassures him, settling there head against his chest, where they can hear his heart beating steady and strong. They run their fingers over his sternum, between his pecs and down the expanse of his abdomen, toying with the trail of downy hairs beneath his navel. 

“They already know,” Levi sighed, and he presses his mouth to the crown of Hange’s head. His eyes flutter shut, savoring the earthy sent of his lover. “It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You’re all that matters, he tacitly implies. 

“They know that we were never just friends.” He pulls the sheets over their sweat damp bodies. Cum stains the fitted sheet. 

“They don’t approve,” Hange says softly, half asleep, lulled by Levi’s steady breaths.

“I don’t give a shit what they think. We deserve this.” Happiness. Even if it was fleeting. Even if one of them died come dawn, it would have all been worth it; to have been loved, to have known love. 

They drift to sleep in each other’s arms. 

Just friends, who became best friends, which in turn because friends who kiss in the dark, then lovers. Two people in love.

But they are soldiers, and they both know that whatever time they might have is borrowed. So they treasure it as best they can. 

[well-shit-im-a-morosexual-now]

There's a new lesson that I can't get to, so I'm going to you!

-35 Anon

Ahhhh??? I absolutely loved this lesson? It's a mostly mammon focused lesson (thanks to all the other brothers nearly dying) with angel backstory/hierarchy added in!????? I'm bouncing off the walls

LESSON 43 SPOILERS

It starts the next day after Solomon nearly kills MC with Mammon waking up looking for breakfast while complaining about the sun (fair enough) he gets annoyed when no one else is up, breakfast is not made and MC is the only one he finds. MC (with what I can only presume is a ridiculous eyebrow wiggle) says 'guess it's just you and me huh?....all alone....' Mammon blushes and says 'that literally cannot be the first thing I hear from you in the morning you're gonna give me a boner' (he actually says something like 'yeah...but don't say sweet, romantic stuff to me first thing in the morning cause you're gonna get me excited')

Mammon complains about the others sleeping in late and says he's gonna not so gently wake them up (this shit validates my HC that Mammon's an early bird and I dunno it just makes me happy) Mammon, with MC trailing behind him, goes to find his brothers. Lucifer is still asleep in his room, Mammon says this is probably a sign pointing to the beginning of the end, Lucifer says 'actually I'm dying cause the scent and flavour of Solomon's food bubbled up in the middle of the night so I'm going the fuck to sleep good night'. Satan wonders what exactly Solomon's food is cause it was able to not have an effect for hours and then suddenly come up again to kill them - he then passes out. Belphie is by Beel's bedside screaming at him to not go into the light, Mammon wonders if maybe Beel's just dying of hunger and Beel says there's no way in hell he's gonna eat anything and Mammon calls Beel out on being an imposter, Beel collapses on the bed and Belpie laments the fact that Beel's dying and that there's nothing he can do. Mammon says 'ugh bro you look like ya gonna die too' and Belphie says 'yeah well i feel like I'm gonna die ever since i ate some custard as a midnight snack and actually maybe it wasn't custard...maybe it was some weird as dessert solomon made cool cool cool i'm gonna pass out too'. Beel says 'Me too' and mammon wonders about the power behind Solomon's cooking. Levi I'm assuming is dead cause no matter how much Mammon pounded on his door and asked him to say something there was no reply so RIP. Asmo blames Mammon for getting sick, cause the bottled water Mammon brought for Asmo when he asked for it the previous night was probably some weird concoction Solomon made. Apparently Asmo's been hearing things ever since he drank it. He also despairs not being able to go the cafe with MC before collapsing on his bed. Mammon considers the fact that Solomon's food should probably be classified as a lethal weapon. Later in the corridor Mammon says that it seems like MC and Mammon are the only ones who came outta this unharmed but like MC nearly died the previous night so what the fuck is your stomach made out of Mammon!? When MC asks this he says he has no fucking clue either but it looks like their entire fridge is now a nuclear waste dump and that they should probably go get some food and medicine (you know these idiots are never gonna return and the others are gonna die).

They go to the Angel's Halo but it's still closed and they decide to come back later, MC ever the opportunist says 'hey ik your brothers are like dying rn and that sucks but ugh wanna make this a date?' And Mammon who has to live with 6 others who are in love with the same person as him and are constant cockblocks says 'shit yeah them being on death's door will probably be the only time we can spend time together without the others breathing down our necks, guess we gotta actually thank -the devs and their massive soft spot for Mammon- Solomon'. Mammon tells MC stories about the other times the brothers were sick, smiling about how they always take things to the extreme (levi had a slight fever and freaked out and turned Henry into Lotan, Asmo had a cold and all his fans came to the house to take care of him and it turned into a party). He says since they are in the human world now they wouldn't have to worry about anything too crazy...then he ruins it by basically saying 'probably'. They go to buy medicine with Lucifer's credit card. MC can ask him how he got it and he'll say it's fine cause they'll just buy food and medicine and only a few things for himself. Or MC can say 'yeah but would medicine actually help?' and Mammon will say 'good point considering it's Solomon's food but we might as well throw some pepto bismol at it and hope for the best.' While heading to the market, Mammon starts blushing about how MC and him heading to the market to buy groceries for dinner sorta feels like something newlyweds would do and hwuidhqowsho8ef7ydjb I'M SCREECHING!? Look me in the eye and tell me this man doesn't have a whole ass colour coded wedding planner aihdhwgdxugz he probably started making it a week after meeting MC. So they head to the market and I shit you not I screamed cause the butcher WHO FUCKING GAVE ADVICE TO MC & BEEL ABOUT THEIR RELATIONSHIP calls out to MC. LOOK I joked about this happening last time but I didn't actually think it would???? and not this fast either! I thought i was gonna have to write a fic about this poor Butcher but solmare's really just giving it to me for free huh? When the butcher greets MC Mammon asks if he knows them and the butcher says that they stopped by the previous day (and look this part is kinda silly and self indulgent but some random as butcher just casually using they/them pronouns made me so happy???). The butcher then asks what the occasion is and if MC is inviting their friend to a party.  Mammon, sweet beautiful Mammon goes word for word "Friend? Me? Nah, nah, I ain't just a friend.   The two of us LIVE together." Bro at this point I'm in actual tears just imagining this whole scenario. the butcher stutters out an "Ah, I...I see..." MC has a horrid flashback to the previous day of the butcher happily giving them relationship advice for Beel. The Butcher and MC just silently stare at each other for a sec before MC goes "um so yeah ik that happened yesterday but see this one is the one I'm actually serious about." Mammon goes "hey!? wtf who's the OTHER one!?" Then to the poor butcher says "listen up, Me & MC are a THING, got it? so yeah MC's gonna show up with not one, not two but with six other hot guys at some point who are all gonna act like they're a couple BUT it doesn't mean anything  got it!? Specially if 'it's a real evil, sinister-lookin' dude with a huge ego and a heart as black as night' that guy especially doesn't mean shit to MC". The butcher says "o-okay". Anyway I desperately need this to be a running gag. Mammon later in really happy that the butcher thought they were a couple and living together and then Mammon who I'm 100% certain at this point has his and MC's entire lives together planned out starts blushing and sighing and saying how he really wishes it was just the two of them living together, sleeping in the same room (bruh I think it's implied enough to assume you already do this half the time), spending the whole day together and staying by each other's sides and how just the thought of all that is nice enough that he can't fight a smile. MC's stomach, much to mammon's dismay, ruins his daydreams by reminding everyone that they haven't had breakfast yet. They decide rather than waiting for the cafe to open to go get something to eat.

They decide to stop at a deli with a line of customers and I think I said this in my answer to your previous ask but I kinda just assumed Mammon would be the most comfortable in the human world and how it was kinda shown when they went to get pizza and later Asmo's dessert that he was able to act the most normal and actually noted when the others were acting weird and tried to reign them in. And that it was probably cause of how much he went to the human world for the witches and MC actually brings it up! They can either say that he seems pretty at home in the human world and he says something like 'oh? I'm just acting like I normally would' or they can ask him if he eats at delis a lot and he says that whenever he gets hungry while he's in the human world for the witches he'll stop at a deli cause it's easy. He kinda gets a sad look while talking about the witches and for once MC gets to turn the tables and be the jealous one. They can ask him if he has pacts with anyone besides them and he says 'no obviously not, do you think I went around making pacts with random people' ....except MC was a random person when he made a pact with them and I've always thought Mammon started getting a crush after making a pact but do you think he was kinda subconsciously curious even prior to it despite how much he tried to get rid of them? MC can also say "witches, huh...?" And mammon goes 'jyggfsdyugadsyu wait are you actually jealous!?" he then leughs, calls MC a dummy and asks how they could be jealous of the witches. AND!! this part made me so happy cause they only mentioned it once before in the main storyline but it was important enough that they had a whole backstory UR card for it and I was wondering if they'd bring it up now since they were in the human world - mammon gets all sad and says there's a reason he can't refuse the witches. he kinda hesitates around telling them that he borrowed some money, and they took over some of his debts and "...And some other stuff, too" (Me, banging my fists on the table: SHOW ME HIS CHILD SOLMARE! PLS! LET MC HAVE A DAUGHTER! or at least give me a name) MC asks if Lucifer knows about this, Mammon says he probably does cause lucifer's his big brother and you can't keep any secrets from your big brother. then he sighs and says he wishes he could live in the human world forever cause he wouldn't have to listen to lucifer's lectures anymore. He seems to realise what exactly he implied cause he goes silent and starts blushing and starts stuttering through saying that what he actually means is that if MC really wants him to stay with them then he might be willing to. They're interrupted by customers talking about a rumour that drinking coffee from the new cafe would make the person you have a crush on fall madly in love with you so obviously Mammon says fuck the deli and drags MC away to the cafe. MC sighs about Mammon being really easy to read. Mammon seems to finally remember that he's supposed to be a tsundere and says him suddenly wanting coffee has nothing to do with the rumour so don't you dare think that and it's not like he's gonna chug their coffee just so MC would fall madly in love with him. MC quite literally goes 'no you' and says well sure you won't chug the coffee but i will and then you'll fall madly in love with me. Mammon, blushing and stuttering, says 'okay but you gotta warn me before saying stuff like that cause it could literally kill me also wtf 'I'm sorta ALREADY madly in love with you...' if you make me fall any harder we're both screwed." He then walks into Luke.

Luke looks adorable!??????????? Before realising who it is Mammon snaps at him to watch where he's going and then goes speechless. Luke says he saw a couple arguing and came to check it out cause they looked like trouble (can't believe Simeon sent a child to scope out a suspicious couple screaming in the middle of the sidewalk about who loves the other the most). Mammon takes offense at the arguing comment and Luke brushes him off to instead talk to Mc about not seeing them in a long time. Mammon snaps at being brushed off and Luke just completely ignores him to hug MC and keep talking about how it's really MC. Mammon does he whole 'no hugging, no getting close, no staring I don't want your germs on MC' routine. MC ignores him and tells Luke that they really missed him, Luke says he missed them too and that actually he missed MC 100X whatever amount they missed him and that he planned on getting in touch with them but the grand opening had them busy. Inside the cafe they meet Simeon who is happily surprised that MC and Mammon are their first customers but that they aren't supposed to open yet. MC asks them what the cafe is about and they say it's a cover for them while they are in the human world and when MC then asks them why they're here Simeon says that Michael appointed him to coordinate relations between the human world and celestial realm. MC and Mammon's stomachs start growling loud enough to resemble Beel's and Simeon offers them breakfast when they remember they haven't eaten. MC catches them up on what's happened and Luke and Simeon laugh about MC now officially being the brothers' babysitter. Mammon says that the angels are really starting to get on his nerves and what they really came for was the coffee that everyone's talking about.

Simeon says that it's just a stupid rumour. MC says but wouldn't it be good for business. Simeon says yeah but since the cafe is just a cover they don't really care about making money and that as angels marketing under a false advertisement is something he can't condone. mammon asks how a rumour like that started and Simeon says that a girl had accidentally walked into the cafe thinking it was some other place and he had given her a free cup of coffee just to see if their new brew tasted good. the girl had later had unexpected, dramatic good luck in her romantic life and had spread the rumour. MC asks if this means Simeon has cupid like powers. Simeon says that he doesn't have that kind of powers, though some angels do. Luke says that angels possess powers from the moment they are born but like humans who are good at some things and bad at others, certain angels can only do certain things with their powers and that angels are assigned a rank based on how skilled they are at what they can do. Simeon's an archangel. Archangels serve as warriors in the celestial realm. And this is really interesting cause it means that Simeon actually fought against the brothers during the war and was not just a passive bystander. It also means Mammon was probably an archangel cause of his 'warrior' card and probably the only archangel from his brothers considering they don't have similar cards. Mammon teases Luke about just being a lower level grunt and Luke says that's still just in training and in the process of determining what he's good at meaning he's not been assigned a rank yet. Simeon says that since Michael expects great things from Luke that'll be really successful. Mammon teases Luke about how if he works hard and aims for the stars he might one day be on the top - a seraph (If this is the highest rank does this mean that's what Michael and Lucifer were?). Luke says that he's actually hoping to be a principality, which mammon laughs about. Simeon finally serves breakfast and talks about wanting to find a way to squash the rumour. MC offers to help and Mammon (rightfully) calls them out on sticking their nose where it doesn't belong again and says he's not gonna help unless they offer to pay him in gold. MC uses puppy dog eyes. It's super effective. Man actually starts blushing and panting and gasping before he gives up and agrees to help. pls sir there's a child here. Simeon calls out Mammon for being a hopeless simp (he actually just says "You really do adore Mc, don't you Mammon?") Luke says MC and Mammon are fucking disgusting and if he watches another second of this BS he's gonna hurl.

while brainstorming about how exactly they are gonna spread a rumour about the first rumour not being true Mammon says that if people saw a couple drink the coffee and instantly break up it might work but hahah it's not like you have one of those. Simeon thinks it's a brilliant idea. MC agrees and Mammon who has probably never been complimented for his plans combusts before pulling it together and puts on his confident narcissistic persona. Luke and Simeon eye up MC and Mammon as their potential couple. Mammon refuses cause he doesn't want to fight with MC even if it's just an act. Simeon offers for their breakfast to be on the house if Mammon agrees and Mammon says he already assumed it was (I mean so did I...). MC says they would really like Mammon to be their partner for this and obviously he instantly blushes and caves in. Luke calls MC out on being a manipulative little shit. Simeon asks MC and Mammon to practice a breakup before the customers come. MC can either start with 'there's something I want to tell you...' - Mammon asks if that's the way they are gonna start and then gets sad and asks them to reconfirm if this is actually an act. or they can start with 'ugh! I can't take it anymore!', and mammon gets shocked and then sad cause he says that since there are so many things wrong with him he can't decide what they are upset about and HOLY SHIT can we get this man some therapy!????? MC gets to pick one outta three problems. 1. He needs to return what he borrowed from them - he says he will eventually. 2. he needs to stand up to lucifer for once - he says he would if he could but each time he tries lucifer just gets worse. 3. he needs to just come out and admit he loves them - he blushes and says not in front of the angels and that he'll do it when they are alone. He then growls and says he has complaints too and that there's a lot he wants to say. he then starts dishing out actual grievances while Simeon and luke awkwardly watch. Luke says something along the lines of 'uhh i don't think he's acting anymore'. Mammon while blushing and sad says that MC is always flirting with others, and asks why they stay up gaming with levi all night, or why they let Asmo touch them all the time,  and why they let Belphie sleep on their lap without offering Mammon to do so, And how he absolutely hates the way they lock eyes with Lucifer and just smile and how he doesn't even want them to breathe in front of Lucifer and can we pls talk about the complex Mammon has regarding Lucifer? Lucifer really just took all his trauma and daddy issues and passed it on to his kids huh? Mammon again while blushing says he wants nothing to do with someone like MC and that it's over he then tries to growl at them but he fails cause "Dammit! Like I could ever really say that to you! I love you, MC! And I'll NEVER break up with you, okay?! NEVER!" and god this man is so soft my insides are melting i can't deal with this shit. Simeon sighs about Mammon being useless ((((Probably while Mammon and MC cling on to each other and cry about having to fake break up with each other i dunno they're both pretty useless))))

Since the whole fake breakup thing failed the cafe is packed and Simeon has MC and Mammon working for him during the rush. Satan and Beel end up walking in, when MC asks them how they are doing they both say they are better. Satan had found a curse that ended up transferring all his illness to someone he hates (RIP Lucifer i guess) and Beel's stomach is strong enough that he got over it quicker than the rest. Despite insisting they're only here as paying customers Simeon puts them to work with a sweet smile and a dark purple aurora reminiscent of Lucifer's and a flash of lightening (I love how they keep revealing that Simeon is secretly terrifying) with the reasoning that the cafe is flooded cause Mammon couldn't fake breakup with MC and as Mammon's brothers it's their duty to help out. Beel cries about having to work without being given to eat but is too terrified to actually protest. Mammon suggests MC and him sneaking away now that Satan and Beel are there, MC gives their best impression of Lucifer yelling Mammon (which considering it's previously fooled both Beel and Mammon is probably really good) and he gets back to work

back in their sitting room at home the four of them are beat, though Beel is happy considering he ate all the BLT sandwiches Simeon gave them as payment. Satan says it's a surprise to see the angels here and Mammon tells them about how Michael wants them to coordinate relations between the human world and celestial realm, Satan says that's sus cause that's usually a job for dominions not archangels and that it probably means that Michael is planning something. Mammon says "so you mean he's plotting something again?" . MC can ask about Michael from 1. Mammon - He says he's a demon masquerading as an angel. And that the punishments he gave Mammon gave him shiver, though Satan says that Mammon earned those punishments. Still doesn't excuse the fact that an angel was able to deliver punishments that can still make a demon who had to survive with Lucifer's punishments shiver... 2. Satan - Satan says that back then he was still just a part of Lucifer and could only see the world through Lucifer's eyes. He says that Michael was everything that humans imagine an angel to be and more and that he had a certain presence about him. Beel says the same could be said about Lucifer. 3. Beel -  he said he smelled tasty.......like sweets. Mammon says that he was always eating sweet stuff. Mammon says that Michael was A LOT like Lucifer. Satan says that while they were the polar opposite in terms of appearance it felt like they were twins. Mammon says that Michael was crazy about Lucifer (I mean he still has a weird shrine for him so yeah...) and that he really cared about lucifer. Satan says that it's cause Lucifer embodied everything Michael wasn't but wished to be and that he projected himself onto lucifer. Beel says they should probably open up an umbrella. Mammon goes wtf and Beel says cause it's raining. Mammon goes 'bro wtf we're inside'. Satan goes 'actually wait no I'm getting wet'. MC notes a leak in the ceiling, above which is Asmo's bathroom. They've been in this Mansion for little over a week and it's already leaking...

That's the end of the lesson. I'll post screenshots of Luke and Simeon's outfits in a bit. Cause they've been talking about Michael's appearance and personality and cause at the end of the last season he told MC he'll meet them soon do you think we'll actually get to see him? Is it bad that the angels scare me more than the demons? Since they brought up the witches while in the human world do you think we'll get to meet them/have more backstory? hdgudysidhzsjb I loved this lesson and I have so many questions that need to be answered... Let me know what you think!

[vivwrite]

With the Ghost of You(When the Sun Goes Down We All Get Lonely)

Maybe he’s just imagining, maybe its just another fantasy he pictures, but Luke seems semitransparent, a halo casting around his figure, holy, angelic.

“The night was very long but it didn’t seem long to the Snow Man; he stood lost in his own pleasant thoughts, and they froze until they crackled.”

or: Ashton meets Luke in a library, and the story tells itself. (AO3 link👇)

ooookay so my first fic for lashton and 5sos . Thanks for reading it. And tbh I'm extremely nervous because English's not my first language. So sorry for the mistakes lol.

One thing: I read Marquez's work in my first language, and I can't find the English version of it, so I translated the title and first sentence to English. There might be a mistake so sorry again lol

-

Ashton has always loved the library.

It isn't the school library, which is always so grand, demure, solemn, much like a robot- no, too cold and inhuman.

What he prefers, rather, is a smaller one run by a group of retired professors. It seems determined to hide itself in the northeastern corner of the campus, made up of three small but never crowded reading rooms. No matter when he walks through the doors be can find lamps shading yellowish circles on wooden tables, rows and rows of bookshelves up to the ceiling, and seats, beside small windows where the sunlight outside leaks in just perfectly on sunny afternoons.

To him it's always a getaway, a secret hiding place from the stressed and sometimes too fast school life, the only friend he can turn to when he isn't that enthusiastic about life, a comfort when facing another rock bottom. He's already studying a too rational subject; he'd love spending some time being just sensitive in here.

He'd spend hours and hours wandering among the bookshelves, picking one when he feels like it, skimming a few pages before deciding to read on or not. By doing this he feels just like a boy on the beach, amazed by an emerald or sapphire brought on shore by waves from time to time- what matters isn't just the book he gets. It's more of the communicating, the chore he gets to strike.

-

Unsatisfactory experiment result, loads of homework, a long and tiresome discussion with the professor about his research orientation- which he thinks is too early for him to consider, but she insists that as he has already got postgraduate recommendation he needs to consider it fully right now- and Ashton finds himself wandering in the library again, walking aimlessly, not for finding books, just to feel the connection.

It is a strange feeling, really, to be connected with books. Most of them on the shelves just seem to be books as they are, silent, quiet, lifeless. But, well, maybe it’s just his imagination- but some particular ones seem to be staring back- especially that one.

His hand automatically moves to pick that book out of the column.

It is quite delicate, a hard back small enough to be held on one hand, the title shimmering under the dim lights.

Ann’s Diary.

He remembers reading it in his teen years.

“Sorry, but that's mine.”

Ashton springs from the bookshelf. The book slips straight from his hand, hitting the wooden floor with a thud, as a boy rounds up from the other side.

He's tall- even taller than Ashton. And quite young, a freshman or sophomore, maybe. He is staring at Ashton from behind those strands of blonde, messy curls falling off to his face, piercing pale blue eyes met with his hazel ones, and that made his breath hitch for a second- although those eyes are definitely showing dismay.

"I... I don't really understand." He tries his best to cover all the confusion and fear- dealing with strangers always makes him uncomfortable (although he can manage it by acting cheerful and shit), especially with a pissed one.

But the boy seems determined to stay silent and on edge. He just flips the first page open, gesturing to a mark on it.

It's a two-word initial. Must have written quite a long time ago, as the lines are a bit blurry and the ink has faded into light gray. But he still recognizes the word, written in Italic, reading "L.H.".

Wait. The librarians never said that there is a place for personal collections.

Before he can ask about it the boy swirls around and walks off, leaving alone a dumbfounded Ashton.

-

He goes to ask the librarians, then the curator(because the librarians know nothing), about books with a L. H. written on it.

"This is a long story, darling, but it's late." Mrs. Hemmings' voice is collected and calm as always, but Ashton can tell that there is something as her eyes are a bit dull, "Maybe the other day."

-

His favorite spot in the library is a small table tucked behind seven rows of bookshelves of English literature(yes, he counts how many bookshelves are there), just besides a small window. Others rarely find it- unless they're crazy for novels by Adeline Virginia Woolf or they're just too bored to do anything else.

That's why he chooses here- There's no disruption, no noise, only the random shuffle for a person searching for books and pages being turned. Being alone.It suits him.

The sound of a chair pulling broke the silence,ripping him from the novel plot- someone has slipped into the chair opposite of him.

Well, fuck.

Ashton lifts his head from the pages, slight agitation rising from his chest, which shifted to utter surprise as his eyes meet a strangely familiar shade of blue.

Before he could say anything the boy blurts out , "Please... I want to explain."

For a moment Ashton just sits there, staring. Thoughts cloud his mind, tangling messily, laying conflicted- He was so senseless but now he seems so sincere! He won't trust his own voice right now, afraid that something stupid pops up all of a sudden. So he decides to just nod, a silent permit for the stranger to go on.

The boy clears his throat, looking a little nervous, "About the incident yesterday... I'm sorry. Got into something stupid and was shouted at all day long- but, I mean, fuck, even that isn't the reason I became such a jerk to you. I'm not trying to defend myself, but please don't be angry... Oh my fucking god, I don't know what I'm saying." He groans, pushing a hand through his curls, messing it up a bit.

Well, isn't that adorable.

Ashton hears himself chuckling, "I understand, no worries. Everyone has a bad day, don't we?"

He watches as the boy visibly relaxes with the reassuring words, a smile slipping on on his face, "Yeah, I guess. Thanks... Um, what's your name, by the way?"

Oh, right.

"Ashton."

"Thanks, Ashton." the boy's smile widens, "I'm Luke."

So the initial does belong to him. The L. H..

It's not until silence falls that Ashton realizes he may have stared at those sea- blue, sincere eyes for a bit too long. Hastily he ducked his head into his novel, flushed, trying to pick up the stream of Woolf's consciousness again.

"Virginia Woolf?" Luke's voice cuts in, and to Ashton's surprise- filled with pure interest.

Everyone else just thinks he's crazy and nerdy fancying Woolf's works.

"You like her?" He can't help but feel hope lighting up.

"One of my favorite!" Luke's literally buzzing with excitement, like a puppy finally getting some fresh air after a long lockdown in the house, "Never found another person to discuss, though. Everyone just say it's too hard to understand and shits."

And with that their conversation swiftly shifts into a heated discussion about stream of consciousness novels, to Woolf, then Proust, Faulkner, all way up the history, even to Freud- and Ashton finds, surprisingly, that they can strike a chord in every part of it- and the way Luke talks relentlessly, smiling so broad, eyes shining and hands waving- tells him he holds the same feelings, same thought, same passion.

His throat's sore- he hasn't talked that much in like, forever- but that doesn't stop him from being smug like an idiot when he leaves the library.

He's been alone for a long time, But it seems that he has finally found someone.

-

He starts to spend more time in the library- first just to do some more leisure reading and writing stuff there, then he starts bring his textbooks and laptop there to finish his homework, then even starts to stay there as long as he neither has classes nor needs to go back to the dorm. Yes, he admits it's kind of strange one's never tired of a library- especially that he has already ploughed through every part since he first stepped into it- but he knows why- a cute boy with ocean blue eyes and a smile is always there now.

It has become a routine. Luke accompanies him every day, sometimes already halfway through a novel when Ashton arrives, while other times Luke shows up merrily when he’s buried in the middle of projects and homework, bringing in a sense of cool breeze and fresh air before peeking over and ushering him to take a break(well sometimes the work has to be done, but Luke’s so sweet that he can’t refuse). Their time spent together is usually quiet, Ashton either typing away on his laptop or on a book, while Luke is immersed in his own novel, just piping up from time to time to discuss the plot or asking about the author. Topic wanders- books, school life, bands, music (seriously, how many same hobbies do they hold?).

They have went through so many fields- Stream of Consciousness to Science Fiction, Agatha Christie to Akudagawa, Shakespeare's Sonnet to Samuel Ullman's prose, but the list still seems far from ending. To Ashton's surprise Luke have read most of the writers not only by representative works but also less- famous chapters- many of which he only knows but has never read. He had thought he's an English Literature student, but Luke amazed him again by saying he studies Math actually- the same amazement occurred again when Luke discovered the chemistry paper Ashton's working on.

He can’t recall the last time he felt this content -Well, he can’t even remember when he has become so silent and depressed, on edge and under pressure.

But seems Luke has already become the solution.

-

Ashton sighs, recoils back in his chair, takes off his glasses and rubs his eyes- He never learns the lesson of not leaving your homework to the deadline, fuck it.

Besides him Luke rises his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips, "You finally done?"

He just groaned, eyes shut."I wonder how the fuck you can even finish your homework. You never seem to be doing anything related to math."

"Maybe that's because all can be done quickly if I want."

Smug idiot.

"Wait till you're a post graduate and you'll know what's torture."

"Will quit right after four years, then."

Ashton scowls, cracks open one eye and spares a hand to flip Luke off, to which he ducks away (he always does) and giggles, "You're of no fucking help."

"What do you want me to do, then?"

"Don't know. Tell me a story. Or just read something. As long as I'm not thinking my head off about the synthesis route of some stupid fucking molecule I'll be fine."

He heard a light chuckle, "Aye- Aye, Captain, here we go."

The sound of pages turning, Luke clearing his throat, then,"'It's so bitterly cold that my whole body crackles!' Said the Snow Man."

Ashton lifts an eyebrow wearily,"Now you're telling me an Andersen's Fairy Tale?"

"Shh. Shut up and be a good boy. It's my favorite one." then, "This wind can really blow life into you! And how that glaring thing up there glares at me!" He meant the sun; it was just setting..."

Luke reads on, and Ashton finds himself relaxing, sinking into the familiar tale he’s read hundreds of times as a toddler, following the thread of the story, recalling the dialogue, how the Snow Man calls the Old Watchdog “my friend”.

Luke's voice fades for a brief second, then returns, slightly changed, softer, “Then the Snow Man looked, and he really saw a brightly polished thing with a brass stomach and fire glowing from the lower part of it. A very strange feeling swept over the Snow Man...”

Here comes the part- tracing the memory he can still feel it, the confusion when toddler him read to this part, then realization and excitement for no reason when he picked it up again, just for one time, before he come to this city.

He thought a new place brings a new life. That he would finally leave that old black and white town. He thought he knew what life was all about, what love was.

So ambitious, so young, so dumb.

Ashton blinks furiously, shaking the thoughts flooding up away from his mind. He’s here, in his favorite place, with an adorable boy who keeps his company, reading a tale to him. He’s fine, they’re fine, it’s fine.

His eyes lands on Luke.

The small lamp on the table is tilted slightly, soft golden light casting gently down on the boy’s right side, splitting a silhouette, leaving the left side of his face in the shadow. Curls falls off his face, dangling. His long, thick eyelashes turns to an almost-silver color under the light, trembling slightly, dancing altogether with the little particles floating in the air, as those blue eyes, clear as the sunny day but still deep as the sea, moves with each line, each word on the page. Maybe he’s just imagining, maybe its just another fantasy he pictures, but Luke seems semitransparent, a halo casting around his figure, holy, angelic.

“The night was very long but it didn’t seem long to the Snow Man; he stood lost in his own pleasant thoughts, and they froze until they crackled.”

The story’s still going, coming to an end, and Luke’s voice, a little raspy now, is merely above a whisper, like if he tells it any louder the fragile, beautiful tragedy will be destroyed.

“Come out, dear sun! Come often, skies of blue!

And nobody thought any more about the Snow Man.”

And with that Silence falls, a sad love story coming to its end.

For a while they just sits, looking into each others eyes.

The atmosphere’s changed, he knows it, can feel it. It’s a brand new feeling, one he has never felt, the rising urge, the need, the want, to get closer to the boy in front of him, to truly know him, to be with him, go through everything with him, feel the same with him, to like him, love him.

Hesitantly, he reaches out, slowly, hand trembling.

For a moment Luke seems to be on the same page with him, eyes fluttering shut and automatically leaning in, but suddenly he gasps, like being reminded of something he has long forgotten, and recoils back sharply, Ashton’s hand touches nothing but air.

Why.

“It’s late, Ash.” Luke whispered, not looking him in the face, “Maybe the other day.”

-

Something’s changed between them.

Not that the intimacy has changed- no. They still meets at the very table, reading and chatting, Luke still listens to his bickering about homework and fucking lab life- but something’s there, like The Sword of Damocles, hanging dangerously, but both just choose to ignore it.

Luke’s still Luke, sweet and gentle, cute and caring. But he’s somewhat quieter then before- he’s still chatting when it comes to their hobbies, but he always stops abruptly after the topic’s over, cutting the conversation.

It’s only that Ashton’s confused, confused about fucking all of it, confused about why Luke refused his invitation, why Luke takes a step back while he finally decides to step forward. It’s like an invisible barrier is built, all things suddenly turns indefinite without reason.

He hate it. He fucking hate all of it.

It’s only worse that he’s stuck in the library right now- it’s pouring outside, he’s left his umbrella at home, his jacket has no hat, and Luke’s oddly quiet.

He’s reading, more of scanning automatically, mind crowded with uncomfortable thoughts, screaming at him to at least find out what’s wrong with Luke(he don’t know how when they’re in this awkward state), to pluck up his courage and try again(well look what a coward he becomes when it comes to pining), to get this mess sorted (to which he has absolutely no fucking idea).

Fucking shitty day.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed- the sky is darkening, pure black seeping into pale gray, as the window starts to mirror the lighted lamp, making it unable to see the outside.

He hears a sigh, then the sound of book shut.

He can see those clear blue eyes from the corner of his eye, a little dim than usual, like the eyes of a sad puppy, and that almost break his heart. He wants to get close to the boy again, tell him it’s okay, he’s here, no need to keep those shit all alone and stuff- but instead he stares intently at the screen, so hard that his eyes starts to water, cursing himself inwardly.

A pause. Then, “Ash.”

Ashton gives himself a slap in the head, then puts on his most cheery face, “Yeah?”

Luke shakes his head furiously, “Don’t... Don’t act in front of me. I know you’re not well these days, and it’s all because of,” He waves his hand impatiently, then pulls his curls, casting out another deep sigh, “Yes, I... feel there is something I need to explain.”

And again he finds himself lost of words, exactly like the last time Luke made an explanation. But Luke’s acting different- strange. He’s frowning, shifting in his seat, hands tightly clasped together, teeth tugging at his lower lip, eyes filled with... fear.

Luke has never gone frightened in front of him.

“Hey, hey.” He reaches out, trying to grab Luke’s hand, but the boy squealed and pulls away abruptly again- so he just sighs, being as comforting as possible, “It’s okay, Luke. All okay.”

Finally the boy seems to have made the decision. He points to the book he just finished, which is lying on the table now, “The second short story.”

“You’re making me a puzzle through Marquez? Typical.” Ashton picks up the book, checking the writer. He’s trying to make a joke, but it came out weak and not funny at all, as Luke just sighs again and rests his head in his hands.

“I don’t know how to say it, so.” God, he hates how Luke’s voice sounds, all hurt and in pain.

“Luke, I mean, I’m not forcing you, but you know you can tell me everything-” panic’s rising, and he feels the urge, that they’re coming to the crossroads-

“Um, Ashton?”

He’s never hated life- the approaching librarian as well- more than now.

“Yes?”

She comes to stand beside him, a hand on his shoulder, “It’s ten now and we’re closing in five minutes. You need an umbrella?”

“Um, just a minute. We have something to discuss. I promise it’ll be quick.” He gestures to the seat across the table, where he knows Luke’s sitting.

He expects a nod, but her face is puzzled, coated with a layer he can’t read, “We? But Ashton, there’s no one across the table.”

“What?”

His head whips around, so quick that he thinks he must have strained his neck. He closes his eyes, then opens them again- yes, Luke is sitting right there, in the chair, totally frozen besides the nervous act just now- but he’s there.

“But...”

She only shakes her head, “You’re the only one here all day, Ashton. No one else feels like coming on such a stormy weather.”

With that she leaves.

Ashton turns back to Luke frantically, “What the hell-”

He’s met with a stony face and watery blue eyes. Luke seems defeated and in total grief.

“Tell me, Luke. Tell me!” Panic overcomes him, his voice three octaves higher than usual. It can’t be real, it’s just his fantasy, things like this can’t happen in real life...

Luke holds out his trembling hand, and very slowly, reaches over, linking it with Ashton’s.

A wave of icy cold rises up- from his feet up to his spine, overwhelming him, drowning him, making his head dizzy, the world turning, the sense-

The sense of not being touched.

Luke’s hands go straight through his.

“Because they can’t see me.” The silhouette figure whispers, voice barely audible.

“I’m not as real as you see me, Ash.”

-

The next three days come and go like a blurry scene.

Ashton remembers it just vaguely- he remembers fleeing out of the library, running alone the dark campus path till his chest burns and every breath becomes a burden. He remembers the rain, pouring down and hitting him relentlessly, flowing off his face, mixed with some warm fluid he didn’t dare to think about. He remembers walking back to the dorm, all worn out and broken down, throwing himself on his bed and crying till weariness finally came over. He slept, then woke, then ushered himself into sleep again, like only in dreamland he could forget all of it, until he was really not able to sleep anymore.

He pushes himself up from his bed and stumbles into the bathroom, eyeing himself in the mirror. He looks like shit, even worse than a hangover, purple bags hanging from his eyes and hair sticking in all directions. He sighs, turning to walk from the bathroom, cursing as he nearly trips over something on the ground- but the word died halfway in his throat.

It’s that book. The Collection of Marquez’s Short Stories. He must have thrown it on the floor that night.

Ashton swallows, hesitant- he’s not that sure if he’s ready to face it, that memory, that typical boy- but his hand does it for him, already flipping through the pages.

The second work, what is the second work......

He sees the title.

Someone Messed up the Roses.

He takes in a breath.

Today’s Sunday, the rain’s stopped, and I want to pick some red and white roses to my grave...

His eyes is welling up, but he reads on, about the story of a boy’s ghost and his sister, a wish never coming true, a story of love and regret.

There’s a note, written in Italic, at the corner of the page, end of the story, black ink suggesting it’s freshly written.

You have given me the happiest moments my whole life and beyond life, Ash. It might be like a cheesy novel, but I love you and I’m sorry.

Luke Hemmings

He’s crying before he knows it.

“Fuck, Luke.”

-

The scenery outside the window’s changing, fading from concrete jungle to fields and woods. On the end of the road, a hill’s approaching.

He’s sitting in the bus, hand clutching at Marquez’s Collection and a piece of paper- a piece of paper Mrs. Hemmings gave him, showing a route to the place he wants to go.

The vehicle stops and Ashton stands, hopping off the bus, going for the iron door just beside the muddy road.

He pushes it open, the rust on it sticking on his hands, the scent of soil coming up to greet him. As he keeps walking stones appears- delicately carved, yet lifeless.

An oak. That’s what she told him- an oak beside him.

He lifts his head, looking around, and found it- an oak, already tall, rising from the soil, pointing straight to the pale-gray sky.

Uncertainty and fear echoes in the back of his mind, trying to stop him, as he just goes on.

He’s already experienced lost once. He doesn’t want to lose it again.

He stops in front of the oak, hesitates before sitting down, cross- legged.

“I don’t know what to say, Luke.”

He stops, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“A part of me is telling me to forget all this, deny it, wave it off as a dream. It’s all just a fantasy, something I pictured, and I’m supposed to, I should...”

“But, Luke, every minute spent with you is so real.”

“They would say I’m crazy, everyone will; I mean, who would believe a person falling in love with someone already gone- and supposed to be in the state of nonexistence? But... you’re like someone I finally found, a person in this world who could understand me... Who I’ve searched for my whole life.”

He sniffs, blinking away the tears welling up, “You know, during my years alone I’ve learned about not to expect, not to hope; but you... you bring the difference, like a light suddenly cracking in. I mean... if you’re there, if you’re really there... please, just please, give me something to hope, to wish for, and don’t just go away like that.”

“Because I’m so lonely,” He finally let it slip, “So lonely, Luke.”

A soft wind picks up, leaves rustling, like an answer. But as he listens on everything just stays silent, like they’ve always been forever. No silhouette, no soft voice belonging to a boy.

The sky’s getting dark, so he just pushes himself up and leaves.

-

He continues with the life. Attending classes, finishing homework, finally deciding his research orientation. His professor says something about “A big step” and “I know you can do it”, which he just brushes it all off, not truly listen.

He continues to go to the library- but not sitting in that very table anymore, and just stays there for less then an hour each day. He’s read Someone Messed Up the Roses again and again, like all of the other works have suddenly lost their attraction to him.

The pages are all dog-eared and worn out, but he just goes on with it, flipping the pages, ready to read the short story for like the twentieth time.

“I wouldn’t treat a book like that, you know.”

He jumps from his seat, eyes widening, turning around.

Someone turns up from behind the bookshelf.

Messy curls, sea- blue eyes, the lips curling up in a slight smile.

It’s like a dream. He’s in a dream.

Like he can read Ashton’s mind, the blonde walks straight up to him and extends his arms, wrapping him into an embrace.

He feels warmth.

Still no feelings of being touched, the figure still semitransparent, but warmth.

“It’s real. Don’t doubt it.” Luke’s voice is soft, reassuring, barely above a whisper.

Just like he remembers.

The warmth doesn’t fade, like when he’s standing under the afternoon sun, closing his eyes, feeling the hope coming up.

He finally believes it- tears are sliding down his face before he knows it.

“Luke."

[optimizche]

Eureurong {Part 2} (Park Chanyeol/Reader)

True to his word, your wolf hadn't let you go throughout his heat.

Chanyeol kept you by his side, in his cabin. During his heat, he had grown incredibly needy and tactile. When he wasn't ravishing you, he'd be spooning you, your back pressed against his chest. Or the two of you would be sitting near the fireplace and he'd lie down in your lap, sighing contentedly when you'd stroke his hair.

And when he did take you, oh dear god, was it heavenly. His fur swathed bed had been christened over and over again and then some during the duration of his heat.

Every night when you fell asleep in his arms, Chanyeol would press the softest of kisses to your forehead, thanking you for accepting him and his way of life. And for always remaining by his side.

________________________

It was about two weeks since the ebb of his heat, that Chanyeol called an urgent meeting of all of his pack and their mates.

You had managed to gather from Yixing that there had been an uprising. A seven-membered wolf pack, that ruled over the nearby lands, had threatened the territory of Chanyeol's pack. Yet again.

"This is the fifth transgression in as many years, Chanyeol. We cannot ignore this any longer," Junmyeon said, his voice fierce. "We must give a befitting reply to the Bangtan pack."

The rest of the wolves and she-wolves gathered around the massive teak wood table let out approving growls.

You were sitting next to your mate, in a seat of high honour. Chanyeol raised a hand in the air, asking for his pack to quiet down.

Once there was silence, he spoke in his deep voice. "So you expect me to lead you all into battle? You want me to sully our lands with blood?" he asked, a tinge of irritation in his voice.

There was a beat of silence, before Kyungsoo spoke.

"I understand that you prefer peace, Alpha. But this has gone for far too long. They need to be put in their place."

Chanyeol shook his head. "Now is not the time to fight. Our species is already on the brink of extinction. We cannot start killing among ourselves over lands."

More silence passed as Chanyeol allowed the group to digest the meaning of his words.

"So you'll let them have our lands? Our territory?" Minseok demanded, angrily slamming his hand upon the table. "If so, you are not the Alpha we took you for when we gave you the honour, Chanyeol."

"Minseok is right," Junmyeon spoke, his gaze shifting toward you, turning accusatory. "In all your years, you've never once shirked away from a threat. Perhaps you're becoming tame, too... humanized," he said, spitting out the last word as if it was a curse.

You felt your mate stiffen with anger beside you, nostrils flaring, his hands clenching into fists as he glared at Minseok and Junmyeon.

The tension in the room suddenly grew tenfold.

"I am not going to wage war against Bangtan," Chanyeol declared in a tone that indicated his finality about the decision.

"There will be no need to, Alpha," Yixing ventured, reaching into his shirt pocket to withdraw a piece of paper. "They have sued for peace."

"Have they?" Chanyeol asked, taking the paper from Yixing's hand. Unfolding it, he began to read it.

"Yes, Alpha," Yixing replied. "Jongin encountered their youngest, Jungkook, who had come to our borders to deliver this message."

You glanced at the note, trying to read it. It had been signed by their Alpha, Namjoon.

Once Chanyeol finished reading the note, a smirk crept up on his lips. "They know that we have the upper hand when it comes to strength and numbers. And they are aware that if need be, if called, Yifan's pack will come to our aid. They know that they are no match for us."

"Do they have any terms?" Jongdae asked, leaning forward.

"Yes, they do," Chanyeol said. "Namjoon has asked for equal access to the river waters for the sustenance of their pack and all its members."

"That seems reasonable," Baekhyun murmured and Chanyeol nodded in agreement.

"They have also asked for the acknowledgement of their lands as an independent territory. They will reciprocate the treatment for our lands. Neither will set foot in the other's area without prior permission," Chanyeol continued. "And they have asked us to cement this alliance between our packs with a seal of marriage."

"Marriage?" Sehun asked, puzzled.

"Yes. One of their Alpha's children will marry one of mine and as far as I am aware, Namjoon's mate is with child," Chanyeol said.

The moment those words left his mouth, you could feel all the eyes of everyone present in the room turn to you.

Colour rushed to your cheeks and you looked down at your clasped hands that rested in your lap.

Everything had come down to you now. This alliance, this treaty, rested solely upon your ability to give Chanyeol an heir. If you were able to give Chanyeol an heir, that is.

And being the human that you were, you weren't sure if you could actually be up to the task.

The room was filled with a low buzz of murmurs.

But you could hear them all.

"She's a human..."

"Will she be able to bear a wolf-pup?"

"Our Alpha chose his mate poorly..."

"His heirs, if they actually happen, will be half-breeds. Filthy half-breeds..."

"SILENCE!" Chanyeol roared, bringing his fist down on the table, his expression black with fury.

You had tried all this while to carefully conceal the pain of not being able to fit into your mate's way of life and his pack. But today, hearing these words from all the wolves around you, you felt weak. Helpless.

And all the suppressed pain came rushing to the surface.

"Excuse me," muttered, blinking away the tears from your eyes, standing up from your seat.

And before anyone could even say a word, you ran.

____________________

You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, into the darkness of the woods, ignoring the calls of your mate and your two friends, Sehun and Yixing.

Vision obscured by tears and the night, you stumbled through the forest, running through the trees, the only source of light guiding you being the full moon.

You ran until your feet were aching, until your chest was heaving and your lungs searing as you inhaled the air in gasps.

Until you reached the river bank.

You knew it would be no matter for Chanyeol to find you. He knew these woods as well as he knew your body. Like the back of his hand.

And no sooner had you seated yourself against a boulder along the river bed, wiping away your tears, you could hear his low growls from a nearby shrub.

His eyes, glowing amber, stared at you as he cautiously approached you in his wolf form.

Pitch black fur, that gleamed in the moonlight, covered every inch of his humungous form. In his human form, Chanyeol was a very tall, imposing man. And his giantness mirrored in his lupine form as well. He was the biggest wolf you had ever seen.

He slowly came toward you, sitting down beside you, placing his head on your lap. Instinctively, your caressed his head, fingers scratching behind his ear.

"You know I cannot give you a child, Chanyeol," you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the flowing silvery-black river. "We've tried all this while and still...."

He let out a soft whimper and nuzzled into your lap, trying to reassure you.

But you were in your own world, the hurt in your heart spilling out in your words.

"I've been a disappointment to you. To your pack. Ever since I came into the picture, it has been so difficult for you..."

Moving away from him, you stood, walking toward the river's edge, your back turned toward him.

"I'm not fit for your world. And for you. Perhaps you should heed your brothers' suggestions and find yourself another mate-"

With a growl, he grasped your hand and spun you around to face him. Back into his human form, his expression angry and a frown set deep between his brows.

"Don't you ever say that again," he said, eyes blazing with ferocity. "You are the one for me."

You knew what was coming, and you accepted it gladly when his lips came down upon yours, hands cupping your face.

He kissed you ravenously, as if he was trying to show you through his kiss exactly how much you meant to him.

It was when he began to undress you that you pulled away him.

"Here?" you asked, looking around.

He smirked.

"I had promised, hadn't I? You. Me. And the moon."

You relented. Of course you did, because seeing him stand before you, bare as the day he was born, moonlight dancing across his perfectly chiseled body, he looked like a god.

He grasped your hips and lifted you up, laying you on your back upon a rock. Spreading your legs, he dove in, without preamble.

The second his mouth came in contact with your most sensitive flesh, you let out a shuddering gasp.

He licked along your slit before parting your folds with his fingers and just delving in.

"Chanyeol..." you gasped, head falling back against the hard surface of the rock you were lying on.

He was going down on you like a man who was maddened with lust. Like a man who had just one purpose: to show you how much he loved you.

When he pushed two fingers into your sopping heat, you let out a loud moan, pleasure racing through your body like wildfire.

It was indescribable, this feeling. The solid stone beneath you. The kiss of the cool night air against every inch of your naked, sizzling flesh. The sound of the river flowing near you, accompanied by the delicious, wet sounds of his fingers fucking into you. The way he was worshipping you. Like he had promised.

Chanyeol had always believed you to be a beauty. But tonight, writhing against the stone under the intensity of his ministrations, bathed in the moonlight, you were divine.

Otherworldly.

To him, you looked like a fallen angel. A girl with moonbeams laced into the halo of her hair, your creamy skin bathed in the silvery light that made you look almost ethereal... You looked like a woman he would fight a thousand wars for.

By the way your breaths were hitching and the way you were moaning his name, he knew that he had brought you to the very brink.

But he didn't want you to let go.

Not yet.

When his mouth withdrew from you, you let out a whine, the pleasurable coil that had grown so tight within your core dissolving into nothingness, leaving you longing.

Aching.

Craving.

Wanting.

His large hands encircled your waist and lifted you off the stone, into his lap.

The engorged head of his cock slipped breached your entrance and you cried out as he sank you onto his rigid length.

No matter how many times you had him, you couldn't get over the way he felt within you. Nestled so deep, cossetted so snugly within your walls.

A hand wound into your hair, grasping at your nape, bringing you close.

"We have an audience, little one," he husked into your ear.

You looked around, and sure enough, in the darkness of the woods, you could see multiple pairs of amber eyes shining through.

His pack. And their mates.

"Don't worry about them," came Chanyeol's reassurance in your ear, his fingers digging into the meat of your ass. "Let them watch. Let them see how a king makes love to his queen..."

You melted at his words, eyes falling shut as he withdrew from you almost entirely before surging back in.

And then, a crazed frenzy came over you both.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders, you rode him, impaling yourself upon his cock. He guided your movements, grasping at your bottom, thrusting up into you every time you sank.

Knowing that you had eyes on you, you both grew increasingly ferocious. Possessive. Marking each other with bites and bruises that your hungry mouths left behind. Hands in each others hair. Lips meeting in fervent kisses. All while fucking the other.

The night and the moon and the woods and the river and the pack were witnesses to your union.

Soon, the familiar heat was rising in the pit of your belly, aching to be quenched by his seed.

Your toes curled and nails dug into his arms.

"I'm close, A-Alpha..." you moaned.

"Come with me," he said. "Take all of me."

You shattered with a loud keen, clinching him powerfully as your body spasmed in his arms. He came within seconds, thick ropes of his syrupy release filling you up.

Slumping into his welcoming embrace, you held onto him, your eyelids growing heavy and his softening length still deep within you.

"Sleep, my queen," he said, stroking your hair gently, placing a kiss to your temple.

The last thought that you had before falling asleep was that of a little dark haired wolf-pup staring at you...

[huntsman-ash]

RWBY V7E3 LiveWatch

And here we go again. New week, new episode. Things are starting to look interesting, lets see where this goes.

Right off the bat; Elm is basically how I imagined my character Olivia Drabe looking, with Olivia having far darker skin but about the same height and body-build. Everyone seems to like her. 

Ohhh. Dropship formation. Remnant equivilent of Fortunate Son plays in the background.

Clovers giving an ACTUAL TACTICAL BRIEFING. Or, at least, as much of one as a Huntsman can. So thats pretty cool. Least they got that right.

Alright lets see what this here floating info sign says.  Looks like a Huntsmen network report, the place people get jobs from.  Ahh, Petra Gigas...thats a Giest Grimm, something using rubble. RNJR fought one in Vol 4. 

Seems their target is named SDC Mine No 2. So...must be one of the bigger mines (if numbered by size) or oldest (if numbered by age)

Multiple Huntsmen posts in the area, I guess they have some kind of permanent defense positions SOMEWHERE in there...and its south of a place called Aurora Pass.

The active operatives screen is pretty cool, it shows all the people involved. I wish I could get a better fucking view of it though...

Wait, how big is this airship?! It looks like they’re inside a fucking BUILDING.  Also why the fuck is Jaune at the command table? Guess its the whole “leader” thing.

Ohhhhh. Okay the airships are just there for show. They’re not actually on them. Hence why everyones there and seeing Piedro.  Huh. 

Oh and we see Atlas Military Huntsmen (not Ace Operatives). They...look like Commisars. NICE HATS YES. Also we see their guns working against Grimm! HEYYY! Also those must be the Huntsmen mentioned in the Huntsmen Posts

Odd, the screen said the Geist wounded Huntsmen, but then Clover says it took lives. Maybe he means someone else. 

Ohhh, UPGRADE TIIMMMMEEE. Fucking NORA. I wonder if that combat footage Peitro saw from the Festival was captured by Penny...

Lots of indications of changing characters...and damn, Peitro made Ruby an ENTIRELY NEW UNIFORM.  Thats pretty awesome honestly. 

Ohhh okay I see how this is. They’re time-jumping. The briefing happened BEFORE they got their weapons, then they got their weapons, and now they’re deploying by fireteam to the mine. By...leaping out of the airship and landing.  Never change, Hunters. Never change. 

Oh, and they sent Hare and Marrow with them too! YES my two favorite Ops (so far).  First look at Marrow’s weapon. Its not a railgun like I thought it was. Looks like he can throw it.

Hare seems to have some kind of mechanical...shoes? Legs? On her back. Maybe its some kind of acceleration system. 

Elm is literally Olivia. I swear to god. 

Jaune is the only person in this entire fucking show with a REASONABLE landing strategy.  Even if he doesnt seem to really get how to do it right. Oh well. 

QROW GOT AN UPGRADE TOO. HE LOOKS SO FLASHY.  Also...Clover and Qrow deploying together. Thats COMPLETELY intentional. They’ll cancel each other out. 

Ayyy he said LZ! Watch as the ENTIRE FUCKING FANDOM misses that...

Bumblebee moment. Blegh. Dont care. MOVING ON.

Marrow and Hare, now THAT is a ship I can get behind. 

That is the thickest, least fluffy snow I have ever seen in my life. It moves like slush. 

“Without heating or a protective aura, the cold of Solitas can kill you in hours.” THE COLD DOES NOT CARE. THE COLD ENDURES. CALLED IT

Also I do not care about your LOOK, guys, for the love of god dont leave shit exposed like that. Yang your gonna get frostbite on your titties. 

Also Blakes jacket is literally busted and held together with belts. I HATE THE NONSENICAL CLOTHING CHOICES OF THIS SHOW SOMETIMES

Also better possible romance; Clover and Qrow. I approve.  Also the tunnel their in glows yellow and red. Raw dust?

Jaune literally just went backwards like 6 seasons somehow. That being said Nora, do focus on the mission and NOT RENS ASS

Accident...ohhh thats what this is, isnt it. This is the mine Ilia’s parents got mulched in I bet.  That doesnt look like a normal cavein to me though. Thats an asset denial charge.

Little bit of Monochrome love too. 

Besides the obvious SDC crate, theres a container that says Mantle Shipping. 

Okay that jumpscare actually kinda got me.

HOLY SHIT HARE HAS AN EXOSUIT!

Hey, Serapeeds. AND WEISS USING HER SWORD AS A SWORD! Actually a lot of Solitas Grimm seem to be really easy to take down...I wonder if the cold makes them weaker. 

New ordinance for Yang; Impact-implanted explosives.  Crescent Rose can spin its head now. Marrows weapon is a rifle of some kind but it turns into a boomerang. A bladed boomerang. Not bad.

And his semblance is making thing...pause? Slowing time, maybe? That was pretty fucking cool. 

Jaune’s shield now has external hardlight barriers, ala the Hardlight Shield from Halo 4.  Ren can now launch his pistol’s spikes as weapons on wires. 

Vine-guy seems he can use his aura to make like...extendo arms or something. 

Elm smiling and thumbsuping Ren. HA

Annnnnnnnnnndddd Hare moves Fast. Im not even surprised. Ruby suddenly has wet panties

Clover’s weapon is a fucking fishing rod. That is both cool and also kind of silly.

Yep. Called it. Clover and Qrow; the only people who can work together without killing each other.

Multiple Dust types active in one area. Interesting.

Now that is how you operate as a fireteam!

Okay I take it back, it looks like Elms semblance is she can root herself in place. HA. Clever. I think Specialist Cross would like a chat with her. 

Harriet: (Launches skyward and uppercuts a Giest in the face) Me: Welp there go my pants. 

Wonder what purplse dust is. Gravity maybe? I thought it was black. 

Atlas Control. Ahhh, the military terminology. I love it.

Fuckin Tyrian. “Do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior Salem?”

Speaking of him is he just randomly killing people for NO REASON because he can or.

[almaasi]

reaction post typed while watching SPN 14x05 “Nightmare Logic”

oh, what a perfectly soft and emotional Destiel-parallelly piece of Meredith Glynn artwork. so precious, so loved~

03:47pm

things i know about this: meredith glynn wrote it

LET’S WATCH

-

03:50

noooo maggie don’t do things like this alooooone

-

i like the music as she enters... kinda weird and sparkly and awkward

-

03:53

sammy...... you know what you need

someone to do the night shift

if only...... you had.............. someone else........................

*looks pointedly at dean*

-

03:55

where does sam get the financial resources for shit like body cams

we never see them running credit card scams any more so........ ???????

-

03:57

i love these cable things by the roads

so aesthetic

-

03:58

even more spooky pretty music as dean and sam enter the tomb

-

03:59

dean and sam lie so effortlessly and so in sync

i always enjoy seeing them do this, ever since dean told a firefighter he needed to go back into his apartment because he has a yorkie who pees when he’s nervous

-

04:01

aw man i thought the “colleagues” would be cas and jack

bobby and mary’s cool too

-

04:02

bobby’s wearing a cap like michael’s

and mary’s wearing a coat like cas’

..does this mean this story’s gonna be about dean’s war between those two things, like the two worlds he knows

bobby’s parenting vs. mary’s parenting

michael’s need for him as a vessel vs. cas’ love for him as a bestest buddy bro friend

not sure how bobby = micheal / mary = cas but i’m sure there’ll be some kind of explanation later

OR maybe they’re just costumes and they mean nothing

but......is that ever true? trenchcoats are automatically a cas thing now. and that cap is so iconic as michael now???

-

04:09

i relate to this lady in the suit who has had Too Much Of Everything

i enjoy seeing people know their limits and expressing them to others rather than continuing past breaking point

sam’s doing great but also....... no

take a page from this lady’s book, sammy

-

04:11

mary’s walking with sam

and i just wanna take a minute to appreciate how EASY meredith glynn’s episodes are to watch

her scripts flow so gently and everything makes logical sense

and her characters are coherent

there’s just this nice touch of emotional human realism cloaking all the supernatural weirdness and i so, so appreciate that

like.. for me personally, there’s not a single writer on the current team whose writing comes close to glynn’s

i want her to write more episodes with cas though, i know she’d write him just right

i honestly feel like i’m being hugged by someone as i watch this

so soft around my heart

is good

-

04:16

sam: “you [and bobby have] gotten pretty close lately”

mary: “i thought so too”

OH WAIT I GET IT

I GET THE COAT AND THE HAT NOW

IT’S A DESTIEL THING

OH MY FUCKING GOD HOW DID I MISS THAT

IT’S SO BLINDINGLY OBVIOUS HOLY FUCKING FUCKDISAFKDSHGF

even the casual viewers will probably have noticed this one. i know it took me a second but as soon as this discussion happened it clicked

 this is probably the most obvious parallel they’ve ever done i think

i didn’t see it before because i didn’t EXPECT it, you know?? ugh this is so validating

-

04:22

now every word mary says, i’m just envisioning how it applies to cas’ perspective too

“he’s been hunting all the time, he won’t take a break even for a second. there’s something on his mind”

yeah, that mICHEAL HAT, quite literally sitting over his head like a dark halo

-

04:26

the music in this episode is just so pleasing to my ears

-

04:31

things i appreciate:

normal people being all “wtf you hunt monsters” and just being present while dean and sam talk about their shit

sam’s reference to “hunteri heroici” (my all-time fave episode besides “scoobynatural” jdgd that was five years ago what the hell)

-

04:35

me: takes screenshot of this very pretty, very anxious lady because i want my hair to do what her hair does

-

04:36

oop we just found the dean mirror and now we get to hear someone talk about the things he feels and offer advice that ultimately helps himself

god i love this

AND THE FACT I CAN UNDERSTAND THIS PARALLEL AND WHY IT’S HAPPENING

AGAIN SOLIDIFIES THE DEAN/CAS THING WITH BOBBY/MARY

because what mary said about bobby = what cas thinks about dean = what’s true about dean = this lady being overworked = dean not taking time off from hunting

(although it does seem to specifically apply to sam as well ?)

and sam mentioned earlier about how the dad he knew and the dad mary knew were different people, plus the earlier mentions this season about john’s problematic parenting (i forget when)

yeah that really makes a point of saying john abused his kids, for sure

-

lady: “he was gone all the time, working for us, he said”

yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep

-

lady: “i worshipped him when i was a kid. didn’t know any better”

oh deanie

please take notes

please know it’s okay to be angry at john and not continue to love him in a way that excuses his behaviours, even 14 years after he died

-

wait wait wait

dean tells her to let it go, it’s the past, there’s nothing you can do about it now so it’s just baggage

WAIT

THAT MEANS

THAT MEANS HE LET THAT SHIT GO ALREADY???????

WHOA

OKAY COOL. COOL COOL COOL I’M PROUD OF YOU

now go be gay with cas

-

“i try. every single day.”

hell yeah dean winchester giving good mental health advice to people and also millions of depressed people with various traumas watching this

ngl this legit just helped me a tiny bit with my issues with my own dad

urhgutguugb meredith glynn you are the good we need in this world

..............suddenly getting real emotional because goddamn i wanna meet her someday ;~; i wanna meet 1. misha and 2. meredith glynn, maaaaybe 3. jensen idk

mEREDITH GLYNN IS MY KINDRED SPIRIT

and DEAN WINCHESTER HELPS ME BE A MORE SELF-ACCEPTING PERSON

yay

-

04:49

no but like.......... everyone seemed to enjoy last week’s episode, i only saw people posting good reviews. and i felt bad not not enjoying it, even though all the things people pointed out should’ve been right up my alley, something about the overall thing just fell flat for me

but this one

this one speaks to my heart

-

04:53

maggie: “i didn’t mean to get caught--”

sam: “no no no, stop that. you did nothing wrong. okay?”

sam being a better dad to maggie than john ever was to anyone

-

04:57

OH NO BOBBY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! OH NO!!!!!!!!!!!

-

05:01

dean: “you’re giving him transfusions?”

nurse: “keeps up his iron”

suddenly i don’t trust the nurse

trying to take over the property maybe? a la scooby-doo, it’s always about real estate

-

05:02

dean: “sasha, could you go....... make me a ....sandwich ?”

DEAN NO

(i type, in pain, as i laugh)

-

/rewatches that interaction because it was actually really sweet the way dean mouthed “go” to sasha and she understood

-

05:05

i’ve wanted a djinn story for SO LONG

(even wrote one myself - Prince of the Ether Realms)

trust glynn to be the one to re-weave the exact threads of this 14-year saga that also interest me specifically

also kudos for the fact she’s so obviously knowledgeable about the ENTIRE HISTORY of the show, as opposed to certain other writers who seem to contradict previous facts and re-reference things that were used differently before to make an important point, thereby nullifying the first point when used a second time

-

05:11

hunter with the shaved head 10/10 style

headcanoning them as non-binary and into girls because of reasons

also there was a slight continuity error, this hunter hugs maggie twice in the two consecutive shots

-

05:15

bobby: “it ends the same” [with bobby dead, i guess?]

mary: “no. you are not allowed to give up on me”

seeing this as dean and cas again

yeah i saw someone mention how at the end of last episode, dean suggesting they drive off a cliff and sam being like NOPE kind of reflected the wrongness of the they-all-die-at-the-end for the finale of SPN

and i think this brings it back to that again

i agree that the best ending is the one where they live to fight another day, not go out guns a-blazing

and this is cas telling dean he’s not allowed to give up and die because he wants to live side-by-side for as long as they can

i just really really want cas to say that to dean in a soft emotional scene like this. we don’t really get those unless they’re parallels??? and i wANT MORE DEAN AND CAS TALKING ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS DAMMIT

-

05:20

DEAN AND CAS PARALLELS um i mean BOBBY AND MARY GOING OFF TO HANG OUT ALONE IN A CABIN OF LOVE AND HEALING

GDI LET DEAN AND CAS DO THAT TOO

but also awwww i actually kinda like the mary/bobby thing? because at the core, they ARE dean and sam’s parents, really

family don’t end with blood etc

bobby was the dad john never was

-

05:23

sam: USE THE BUDDY SYSTEM

this is so satisfying

next up: hula hoops of salt and iron knuckle-dusters

-

05:25

i love love love that dean can have a healthy mental approach to this shit, finally

i’m so fucking proud of him you don’t even know

i just......... i really wanna see him not only return to baseline mental goodness, but then overcome that and become greater at his zen thing, and then AT LAST be ready to accept cas’ love for what it is: romantic and everlasting and epic, and not have to interpret it into something else or ignore it to protect himself

-

05:28

that light over dean’s shoulder is the angel on his shoulder

but is it michael or cas?

i’m going with cas, given that michael is a dark-hat-halo

-

05:30pm

it’s over

that was amaziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing ;u;

bless meredith glynn for existing and bringing us such beautiful stories

BUT WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE GARDENER

WHY WAS HE THERE besides to ~add some colour~??? and i guess a red herring for viewers, so we have someone to suspect?

(idk. i never suspected him, because he was black and meredith glynn is better than that - unless she was trying to trick racist viewers?? (i know there's a lot of them, i saw the super-toxic comment section on instagram when jared, jensen and misha posted a “vote beto” thing the other day. and there was a poll mentioned at comic con once, half the american spn fanbase are republicans??? guess they really love guns and fascism))

i don’t really have anything to add here, i said it all as i went along

that dean/cas parallel....... oh boy

just please please please pleASE can we have Actual Destiel and not just parallels and hints. like. they barely talk???????? HOW IS THIS A SHOW WHERE TWO OF THE MAIN LEADS ARE CONSTANTLY FRAMED TO BE IN LOVE, WE’RE TOLD THEY’RE BEST FRIENDS, BUT WE ALMOST NEVER EVEN SEE THEM TOGETHER ANY MORE

HOW IS THIS HAPPENING

anyway the costuming was just so very UNSUBTLE and obvious and i think a lot of people would’ve caught that parallel even if they weren’t looking for it

music was good, directing was good, sasha’s hair was good, nobody we know actually died, that was good too

10/10

ten thumbs up

yeee

[reddieaddict]

You’re Gonna Live Forever In Me (4/6)

Prequel to Richie’s Eulogy

Official Cast

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

A/N: Sorry this chapter took so long. I’ve been really busy and anticipate I’ll be just as busy the next week, but I hope to post the next chapter in exactly one week. I know I already said this before, but just in case some of you didn’t know, I have decided to extend this fic by two chapters. I hope you all enjoy! :]

Pairings: Reddie with a slutty side of Stenbrough and tipsy Benverly

Summary: It’s senior year and Eddie has began to notice Richie exhibiting strange behavior. He is worried he might be hiding something, but doesn’t know how to confront Richie about it without setting him off and making matters worse.

New Years Eve 1994

“Hey, Bev! Do you know where Richie is?” Eddie had been searching for his boyfriend for the past ten minutes, instead of enjoying the heat of the campfire Bill and Mike had ignited for their annual New Year’s Eve celebration at the Quarry.  It was almost midnight and he didn’t much like the idea of welcoming the New Year without the most important person to him by his side. “I’ve been looking for him everywhere!”

“How did you lose him? There is only seven of us!?” Eddie ignored her deflective sarcasm knowing Bev was a little tipsy from the libations they had been indulging in since the kickback (if you can even call it that) had begun at nine.

“I dunno! We were sitting by the campfire a few minutes ago, but I left to go use the restroom and when I came back he was gone. It’s freezing, its almost midnight, and I need to find him!” Winters in Derry, Maine weren’t all that bad, hell it didn’t even snow, but for two scrawny boys it might as well have been Antarctica. Sometimes Eddie wondered how they had decided on starting this stupid tradition and why he always agrees to come, but then remembers that there isn’t anything else to do in Derry and spending the holiday with his mother seemed much more unbearable than the December cold.

“Um . . . I don’t know. I didn’t see him leave or anything, but honestly it’s not like I’ve been monitoring him. I’ve been kind of distracted with Benny. Sorry.” Bev’s words were genuine and Eddie knew that if she knew anything she would have told him without hesitation.  “Why don’t you try asking Mike? He’s been by Richie’s truck for the last half hour manning the radio. Maybe he knows where he ran off to.”

“Okay, yeah. Thanks, Bevvie.” Eddie agreed Mike seemed like the most logical person to ask next.  The only reason he had asked Bev first was because she and Richie were best friends (after him) and often went of smoke breaks together. There was no point in asking Ben; if Bev didn’t know where he was then Ben wouldn’t either. Bill and Stan had been drunkenly giggling and making out all night, so he doubted they knew anything. They barely came up for air, so if Richie had walked passed them, they wouldn’t have fucking noticed.

He made his way over to Richie’s truck, spotting Mike right away. He was bobbing his head to TLC’s Creep, obviously enjoying the effects of his fifth beer. “Hey Eddie! Are you having fun?” He asked cheerfully before noticing Eddie came alone. “ Hey! Where is your Latin lover?”  

“Funny, I was about to ask you the same thing. I went to go use the restroom and when I came back he had vanished. I was hoping that he had told you where he went off to.” Eddie was beginning to get worried. Before he was just being a needy boyfriend, but now he was beginning to get concerned by Richie’s absence.

“Sorry, little dude. I haven’t seen him since he left me on mixtape duty to go hang with you.”

“Eddie! Buddy! Are you looking for Richie!?” Stan had snuck up behind Eddie, startling him with his booming tenor. He cackled at the high-pitched screech Eddie let out. “Oh my god! I feel bad for every dog in the county that must have heard that!” Even intoxicated Stan was witty. Witty and slutty. Funny enough that is precisely how he ended up confessing his feelings to Bill, by drunkenly giving him a lap dance at one of Greta’s party’s sophomore year. Speaking of Bill, he came up behind Stan and wrapped his long arms around his petite boyfriend’s narrow waist and rested his chin on his shoulder.

“Shut up, you he-bitch! You nearly gave me a fucking heart attack! I didn’t even hear you come up behind me! Jesus Christ, wear a fucking bell around your neck! HOLY FUCK!” Eddie screeched as he leaned onto Richie’s truck and clenched his jacket with both gloved hands over his heart, attempting to calm his racing pulse.  Bill laughed at the insult and promptly got a slap to the front of his thigh by Stan.

“Whatever. Didn’t you say you were looking for Richie?” Stan was too inebriated to come up with a clap back, so he decided to change the subject all together. “We saw him head up the cliff like fifteen minutes ago.”

“O-O-Oh yeah! He j-just walked p-p-passed us and d-didn’t s-say any-th-th-thing.” Bill’s stutter gave away just how drunk he actually was, which by Eddie’s guess, was more than any of the other losers. Neither of them seemed at all worried by Richie’s strange behavior. “I was s-s-s-surprised he d-didn’t tease us for m-making out.”

“And you didn’t bother to ask him where he was going or why?” They were testing his patience, which he was already on short supply of, after getting scared by Stan.

“Okay! A.) How could I ask him anything, if I had my tongue down Bill’s throat? B.) I figured you already knew WHERE he was going and WHY he was headed there! You two had been together all night! How did you even lose track of him? There’s only seven of us!” Stan shot back without skipping a beat.

“My fucking god! As I have told literally every other person here, I went to the restroom and when I came back he was gone.” Eddie decided that instead of explaining the situation any further to two drunken idiots, he’d rather just go find his boyfriend.  “Whatever. Thank you for the information. You too, Mikey. I’m gonna find Richie.”

“Maybe you can find a better attitude while you’re at it, too? Yeah?” Stan yelled as Eddie walk away towards the cliff.  

“Why don’t you go give Bill another clumsy lap dance, you messy whore?” Eddie shouted in rebuttal, without turning back to face his friends.  

“Yeah, b-b-babe why d-don’t you?” Bill whispered into Stan’s ear mischievously.

“It’s 20 fucking degrees out here, Bill! Do you want me to get frostbite on my dick!?”

“Fair enough. L-Later?” 

“. . . Okay!” Stan turned at wrapped his arms around Bill’s neck and kissed him with a smile. Where Eddie liked to play hard to get, Stan was a little more shameless.

“F-f-fuck yeah!”

Hiking was not one of Eddie’s fortes and his winter attire wasn’t helping in slightest.  He didn’t much care at that moment, though; he was determined to find his fucking boyfriend so they can share their new year’s kiss. It was still difficult and he toyed with the possibility that Richie might not even be up there. Would Stan be that much of a bitch to send Eddie on a pointless excursion? Yes he would, but Bill wouldn’t. Either way, Eddie had to make sure.

As he arrived at the peak the smell of cigarette smoke greeted his nose and quelled his doubts. He looked around hopefully and caught glimpse of Richie’s ebony curls and the bluish halo that emanated from them as the moonlight fell upon him. He was sitting at the edge of the cliff, with his gangly legs dangling over. Eddie took a moment to appreciate the sight.

Above them, the night sky was clear of any clouds. The stars seemed to dance as they twinkled in the sky, next to the full moon, which seemed twice as big as it usually did.  Richie’s dark locks floated and twirled in the gentle winter breeze, making them look so much more lustrous and shiny. Eddie wished he had a camera to capture the beauty of the moment. He almost didn’t want to interrupt Richie and just watch him forever, but he was a man on a mission. “Hey, Richie! I was looking for you everywhere! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna climb up here? I would have come with you, babe.”

“Hey, Eddie. Sorry.” Unsurprised by his sudden appearance, Richie turned towards his boyfriend with a heavy smile as he stubbed his cigarette on the ground beside him. He never called Eddie by his actual name, and this marred Eddie with suspicions that all might not be right with him.

“It’s cool. Is it okay if I sit with you?” Eddie asked cautiously.

“Of course, amor. (love) Come here.” Richie patted the spot next to him, then turned back to look up at the night sky. Eddie didn’t wait another second to seat himself next to Richie.

“Is it okay if I hold your hand?” Eddie was growing more certain Richie might not be in the best of moods and didn’t want to overwhelm him with unwelcomed clingy affection. Since the argument they had on Christmas night, Richie has been trying to be much more open with his emotions, and Eddie tried not to pry or push Richie so much. He knew Richie would talk to him when he was ready.

“Of course, Eds. Dame tu manita. (Give me your little hand.)” A sincere smile spread across Richie’s purple lips and the sight of it filled Eddie’s chest with comforting warmth. He wondered if this is how Richie felt when he smoked. Is that why he loved it so much? If so, Eddie could understand why he was so addicted to it. He took Eddie’s right hand with both of his and rested it on his lap. He intertwined their fingers with his left hand, and began to play with Eddie’s knuckles with his right. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was coming up here. I just kinda . . . I dunno. I don’t really know why I came up here. I guess I just needed to be alone for a second and lost track of time. I’m sorry if you’ve been looking for me for a long time.”

“It’s okay, Chee. I found you and that’s all that matters. I didn’t want to welcome the New Year without you.” Eddie looked up at his boyfriend with big assuring brown eyes and Richie admired how beautifully the moonlight illuminated Eddie’s soft round face. It was in moments like this he wondered how he had gotten so lucky, to be blessed with a boy as beautiful as Eddie who loved him so unconditionally. He felt unworthy. “Te amo. (I love you.)”

“Que lindo. (How cute.)” Richie’s smile grew wider as he leaned in to place a chaste kiss onto Eddie’s smooth forehead, earning a giggle from the little man. “I love you, too. Your Spanish is really improving.”

“Thanks! That’s my new year’s resolution, to learn Spanish! I want to be able to communicate better with you. Well not better, like, not in that way. Just, like, in your native language. It would be romantic and I can have another way to connect with you. Do you know what your new year’s resolution is gonna be, babe?” Richie’s smile faded from his face as he shook his head as a gesture to signal he had not. He turned back towards the starry sky. Eddie immediately realized whatever he said had been a misstep and his instinct was to immediately backtrack. “Oh. I-It’s stupid anyways. It’s not like I need a holiday to motivate me to learn a new language. I can do that anytime of year.” The regret within Eddie grew stronger with every word. He didn’t want Richie to be sad on their first new years as a couple, because of him.

“It’s not stupid, bebe. (baby.) I’m proud of you and can’t wait to have entire conversations with you in Spanish!” Richie could hear the panic in Eddie’s voice. It wasn’t his intention to make the conversation so awkward. Talking about the future was just a sensitive spot for him, but he felt stupid for getting put off by such an innocent question, so he tried to comfort Eddie.  “I just don’t have a resolution. I don’t see the point for it.”

“Why not? Richie, contrary to what your mouth would lead most people believe, you are practically a genius! I know if you did decide on a resolution you’d kick its ass, babe!” Richie was amused by Eddie’s comical flattery, but still it did nothing to settle the unease that had made it’s home inside his heart. It wasn’t his intelligence he felt self conscious about.

“Eddie . . . do you . . . um. . . do you think I’m like my parents?” The question felt like a punch to the gut and left Eddie winded. It was so out of character for Richie to randomly ask such a heavy question and it left Eddie in erratic bewilderment.

“NO! NOT AT ALL! Why would you ask that?!”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I- I dunno. I just get afraid that as time goes on I’m becoming more like them. Sometimes I scared that I might hurt you.” Richie didn’t dare face Eddie has he spoke. He kept his teary eyes directed to the stars above him, as if the answers to his dilemmas were hidden somewhere behind them.

“No, Richie. You’re nothing like them. I know it in my heart!” He took Richie’s hand and placed it over his heart, which made him turn to face Eddie revealing the tears that balanced themselves on his waterline and threatened to fall at any given moment. The very sight of it made Eddie’s heart struggle to beat. “I trust you Richie, completely. You would never hurt me.”

“I already have.” The tears that teetered on his bottom lashes just a second ago began to fall over his freckles, like waterfalls cascading over stones beneath a riverbed. “This Christmas. The things that I said . . . I feel so guilty. The look on your face, I keep seeing it when I close my eyes. I don’t want to hurt you but sometimes I lose control. Sometimes I can’t help what I say. What if I get worse? What if I hurt you again?”

“All couples argue sometimes, Richie. It doesn’t mean you’re like your parents. I know you love me. You’ve proven it to me over and over, before we even started dating. I know YOU and I know you’re not capable of becoming anything remotely like them!” Eddie took Richie’s hand and removed his black mitten, exposing the scar on it’s palm, the permanent reminder of everything they withstood and overcame in the summer of ’89, for both of them to see.  He proceeded to place a gentle kiss on the healed wound, never once allowing his tear drenched eyes to deviate from his boyfriend’s. “I know you love me, Richie. I trust you.”

“My parents were in love, too. They were once happy and in love and then I came along! What if I ruin what we have the same way I ruined their marriage? What if I really am . . . poison?”

“Richie, YOU ARE NOT POISON!” What happened between them has nothing to do with you. They are responsible for their own marriage just like we are responsible for our relationship. You are nothing like them. WE are nothing like them! So you lose your temper sometimes? It doesn’t mean you’ll turn into them.” POISON? Rage ignited and blazed furiously within Eddie at the sound of Richie’s words, the thought of how long he must have felt this way, and the sight of how broken he sat there before him. How dare they?! Eddie actively avoided the word “hate” whenever he described his disdain for another person, saying it was too strong a word, and that he could never hate someone. In that moment, though, he knew for certain he HATED those disgusting undeserving people Richie was forced to call his parents.

“Then why do we keep getting in arguments, Eddie? Because of me! I keep making things difficult for us and I can’t help it.” Richie voice was a gentle whisper.  

“Things get difficult sometimes, Richie! It’s not your fault! Plus, I’m just as responsible, if not more so for the arguments we’ve had.”

“No, Eddie, you’ve just been trying to help. I just push you way.” Richie furrowed his thick dark brows and shook his head at Eddie’s statement. He couldn’t understand what Eddie had to feel guilty about.

“I mean . . . I guess, sometimes . . . “ Eddie darted his eyes towards the floor between them, as he often did when he was nervous. His brows furrowed and his lips contorted into a frown as he searched for the courage to ask a question he dreaded the answer to. “Do you think I’m like my ma?” 

“Why would you ask me that? You don’t really believe that, do you?”

“How couldn’t I after the way I reacted when you said you were going to leave. The tears! The pleas! It was just like her! Most of me wanted you to stay so we could work things out. So I could help you . . . but a part of me . . . a part of me also selfishly wanted you to stay for myself. I didn’t want you to abandon me, which is exactly what my mom says to me. What if somewhere inside I’m just as selfish and manipulative as her? What if someday I lose myself like she did when my dad died? Richie, my fear of losing you is so profound it frightens me. My mom wasn’t always that way! She was normal until my dad died! What . . . what if we’re the same?” Eddie’s words reverberated in Richie’s head, echoing and spiraling, as they violently made their way to his heart and melted into sympathetic sorrow. How could someone as benevolent as his Eddie feel that that way about himself?

“Eddie, you might share some of the same fears . . . some of the same personality traits as your mother, but that doesn’t make you like her. It’s what you do with those things that define you, the motivations and intentions of your actions. When we argue, it’s always been because you care about me and genuinely want to help. Of course there is gonna be a part of you that fears I’ll leave. That just means you care about our relationship.”

Eddie wiped his tears onto the sleeve of his jacket and looked up at Richie with uncertainty. “Richie, I want to believe that is true, but if I were being as selfless as you say, then why do I feel so guilty?”

“That is exactly my point, Eds, because you’re not like her. What your mother did to you was all about her. Her fears and desires were, and are, more important to her than your well-being or mental health. Do you think she feels guilty for manipulating you? For making believe you were fragile and weak? Has she ever asked for forgiveness? No. She’s never apologized to you because she feels no remorse. But look at what you’re doing? The guilt you feel is just proof that you are concerned about how your actions affect me, which is something she is incapable of doing. You care about me.” Richie placed his ungloved hand onto Eddie’s cheek, affectionately caressing it with the pad of his thumb. He reciprocated his uncertainty with a passionate kiss that took both of their breaths away.  

“Our. Parents. Are. Shit, huh?” Eddie giggled in between kisses.

“Are we both fucked?” Richie pulled away, and rested their foreheads together, still able to feel the warmth of Eddie’s breath tickle his face. He looked up into his eyes and smiled lovingly.

“How can you possibly say what you said to me and still believe that we’re fucked? It kind of undermines everything you just said!” Eddie’s soft expression made it evident his words were meant to be taking teasingly. Richie paused searching for an answer that would relay the conflicting feelings that floated within him.

“I dunno. I guess I feel better, but I still have my doubts. I mean, do you feel like I completely erased your worries?” Richie looked tenderly into Eddie’s eyes waiting for a response.

“No. I guess not. I mean, what you said was really made me feel better, but I guess I am always gonna be a little afraid I’ll become like her. Its like a fear that is going to always live in the back of my mind.”

“Exactly. I think we’re always gonna be afraid we’re like our parents, but you know what? I think we can be LIKE our parents without becoming them. I think it’s possible if we help each other. You already make me want to be better, Eds. You make me feel like anything is possible. Maybe, just maybe, a happily ever after is too . . . with each other.”

Eddie’s cheeks burned, his chest swelled with a warm joyful feeling, and his smile grew wider than he ever believed possible. He placed both of his mitten dressed hands onto Richie’s face and playfully leaned in to kiss his nose, then his forehead, then his cheeks, and then finally firmly on his lips. “I love you Richie. You bring out the best in me. You give me hope, courage, and strength. Things I never even knew existed within me. If I can’t have a happily ever after with you, then I don’t want one at all.”  

Richie, overwhelmed with emotion, wrapped his arms around Eddie and kissed him once more, but this time it was deeper, more passionate, but not craving or desperate. It was full of appreciation and love, and through it both boys conveyed and exchanged all the feelings they were never able to articulate, as words would never do justice and only get in the way. Eddie felt like fireworks were exploding within him like estrogen dreams, releasing blues, yellows, golds, and greens. Once they pulled apart, he realized it wasn’t just within him. Fireworks had begun to light up the night, signaling it was officially midnight. Eddie got to have his new years kiss with the love of his life after all; even if wasn’t under the circumstances he anticipated.

“Hey fuckers! Its officially 1995!! Whooo! Get your asses back down here! Lets party!” Mike shouted up at them, while the rest of the losers around him cheered and hugged one another.

“Hey, I guess I kissed you into next year!” Richie laughed at his own joke, as if he thought it was the most hilariously and original joke he’s ever said or heard. Eddie on the other hand, scowled, as he at the cringy joke. “Oh god! Richie that joke is so played out. Don’t ruin the moment.”

“Okay! Okay, Eds. Gosh, you’re no fun.” Richie released his boyfriend and raised his hands as a gesture of surrender. Eddie just rolled his eyes and began to walk back in the direction came in, then turned back with a mischievous smirk and an arched brow. “Oh really, I’m no fun!? I’ll try to remember that next time you spend the night and try to get in my short shorts!”

Richie’s eyebrows shot up and his eye widened at Eddie’s foreboding words. “Hey! HEY! HEY! No comiences con esas chingaderas! (Don’t start with that shit!) Depriving sexy-fun-time is not fair, ESPECIALLY on New Years! It’s just EVIL!”

“Hey, if really think I’m not fun, I’ll gladly live up to it.” Eddie crossed his arms smugly. “I can be a real killjoy, if you want me to be. Try me.”

“Eds, no! I’m sorry! Don’t do this to me, baby!” Richie ran up to Eddie then dropped to his knees and cupped his hands together pleadingly. “I’m sawry! I’m sawry! Please pardon my loose tongue, beautiful maiden!”  

“Maiden?” Eddie’s façade broke as soon as Richie switched into his terrible southern drawl. He wrapped his hands around the back of Richie’s head and leaned down connecting their lips. “Idiot.”  

Richie lifted himself back up, towering over him and enwrapped Eddie’s waist with his scrawny, but yet toned, arms. He smiled down at his boyfriend and devilishly wriggled his brows. “Soooooooooo . . .”

Eddie knew Richie wouldn’t let it go and it just wasn’t worth it to tease him any longer. Eddie wanted to get back down to the heat of the campfire. Besides, they both knew how this was gonna go down anyways. It was a worn-out routine. “Okay fine, Richie! Later, though. Right now we have to get back down; the others have been waiting for us for God knows how long. They probably already think we’ve been up here fooling around this whole time.”  

“I don’t give a shit about them. Show me what that mouth do.” Eddie glowered up at Richie.

“I’m gonna push you off the cliff.” Richie laughed at Eddie’s attempt to be intimidating. It was like an angry kitten and he found it adorable, but he knew if he wanted to get his way he needed rail in his mouth!

I love you, Eddie Spaghetti.

I love you too.

Taglist: 

@bloggingandstruggling @bitchardtozier @11stayradstaybad11 @breakmyreddieheart @reddieformeerkat @purejaeden @julietissue @greywatertozier

[huahsu]

YEAR OF WHAT HAPPENS ON EARTH STAYS ON EARTH

[longer version of what I contributed to the new yorker’s year-end package. you can read that here, and listen to the accompanying megamix the video team made! links to previous year’s lists at bottom.] I did not grow up going to church, and I am not a particularly religious person. A few days after the inauguration, I wandered into a nearby church and took a seat in the back pews. I’d gone there right after the election. There was some time for anyone with anything on their mind to stand up and speak. If you need others to pray for you, just let us know. A middle-aged black man in a leather jacket got up and began telling us about an argument he was having with a friend on Facebook. It was about the election, but it was actually about the intractability of racism. He was getting frustrated while describing it to us, in part because he seemed to value being the cool and level-headed one. Plus he was describing the kind of argument millions of people were having on the Internet. “I just hope he finds peace,” the guy said. He paused, then put his hands on his chest. “On a lighter note, today would have been Jimi Hendrix’s seventy-fourth birthday.” He opened up his leather jacket to show everyone his Hendrix t-shirt. “I just wanted to say that, because he was just awesome.” So I returned here, the day after marching through Manhattan with a poster that said “HOLD ON, BE STRONG.” I needed to be in a room that was powered by something other than hate--to be reminded of vision and purpose, even if they weren’t mine to claim. To listen to wisdom gleaned from a book I’ve never read, and pick and choose what I wanted. To hear others pour themselves into songs I never, ever sing along to. I wanted to steal their vibes.  Instead of a hymn, they passed out small pieces of paper with the lyrics of John Lennon’s “Imagine.” This is not the type of church people come to for the music. The pianist started playing, and I remember thinking about how it felt like magic when I learned how to play those chords as a kid. I couldn’t believe we were doing this. We sang, tentatively at first, as though we could not believe these words in this space. Picture it: singing of “no heaven” and “no religion, too,” with humility and hope, inside a house of worship. It was like an admission that faith was inadequate. All we had was one another. “Imagine” is a song I’ve heard millions of times, the type of song that is so ubiquitous that we rarely bother scrutinizing its words, its vantage point, the possibility that someone wrote these words because he actually believed them. I sang along with a room of strangers, and we looked at one another, and, for the first time in months, I began to cry.   TWO LYRICS THAT REMINDED ME OF POLITICS EVEN IF THEY HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH POLITICS "Wrote this shit January 21″ “Take me back to November / Take me back to November” “I’M AN ANGRY TEENAGER” Novelist, “Street Politician” ONCE THEY START, I HAVE TO LISTEN TO THE END Jim O’Rourke’s recently unearthed cover of Tracy Chapman’s “Fast Car” Kanye’s sitcom-length remix of “Bed” THURSDAY NIGHTS ON NBC Ross from Friends’ very Madchester guitar-y Boiler Room set DJ Seinfeld, Time Spent Away from U Nino Man, Jadakiss and Styles P, “Friends”

IN ANOTHER YEAR FULL OF NIRVANA/KURT COBAIN REFERENCES (DID YOU SEE JAY:Z’S JACKET?) MY FAVORITE SONG, PROBABLY: this Trippie Redd snippet

SOME VERSIONS OF THE NINETIES THAT WILL NEVER COME BACK THE WAY GRUNGE ENNUI HAS, BUT WERE SO POSSIBILITY-RICH TO ME BACK THEN Kicking Giant, This Being the Ballad of Kicking Giant, Halo: NYC/Olympia 1989-1993 Helium, The Dirt of Luck/The Magic City LIKE MANY WHO LOVED “A STORM IN HEAVEN,” I OVERLOOKED THEM AT THE TIME Acetone, 1992-2001 A REALLY GOOD BOOK ABOUT ACETONE, LOS ANGELES, DREAMS OF GREATNESS Sam Sweet, Hadley Lee Lightcap WOULD HAVE LOVED THIS IN 1994, 2002 OR 2017 Big Thief, Capacity CREDIBLE AND DOPE EARLY NINETIES R&B HOMAGE, SAX AND ALL Joyce Wrice, “Good Morning” SPEAKING OF THE NINETIES, LEECH MADE A MIXTAPE OF JUST THE FLOATY/DREAMY PARTS TAKEN FROM CLASSIC GOOD LOOKING/MOVING SHADOW SINGLES Leech, “Just the Liquid” FOR THE COMEDOWN, DARK-ASS STUFF ASSEMBLED EXCLUSIVELY FROM SLIPKNOT SAMPLES Croww, Prosthetics NOSTALGIA, ULTRA (UK GARAGE/BASSLINE EDITION) tqd, ukg SUMMERTIME ‘SECOND SUMMER OF LOVE’ VIBE Opus III, “It’s a Fine Day (Burt Fox remix)” UNEXPECTED BURIAL SUMMERTIME VIBES Monic, “Deep Summer (Burial remix)” NO REISSUE OR  tk ANNIVERSARY TIE-IN, JUST SOME OLD SONGS I RE/DISCOVERED THIS YEAR Active Minds, “Hobson’s Choice” El-B, “El-Brand” Kamal Abdul Alim, “Brotherhood” Spiritualized in Reykjavik  U2, “Numb (Soul Assassins remix)” U2, “Mysterious Ways (Massive Attack remix)”

SAME, BUT TAIWANESE INDIE ROCK EDITION Chocolate Tiger, “Piecing Together” REISSUES, OR: PEOPLE HAVE ALWAYS BEEN WEIRD AND SPACY#, OBSESSED WITH NATURAL BEAUTY## # Planetary Peace, Synthesis # Pauline Anna Strom, Trans-Millennia Music ## Pep Llopis, Poiemusia La Nau Dels Argonaut REISSUES, OR: WHEN I WAS A CHILD THERE WERE NO BETTER SONGS THAN THE ONES THAT PLAYED THROUGH TRANSFORMERS: THE MOVIE AND FOR SOME REASON THIS JOYOUS EP REMIND ME OF THAT SHEEN, THOSE HOOKS, THE PERFECT, THEATER-SIZED ECHO Om Alec Khaoli, Say You Love Me BEST ALBUM-LENGTH METAPHOR FOR THE CITY, ITS LIMITATIONS AND POSSIBILITIES Wiki, No Mountains In Manhattan SOUNDS EXACTLY LIKE IT WAS DESCRIBED, JAMAICA VIA OUTER SPACE Equiknoxx, Colon Man I NEED TO GO OUT MORE Jex Opolis, “Mt. Belzoni” KH, “Question”

I LISTENED TO THIS ABOUT TEN TIMES, MY SENSE OF ENCHANTMENT GROWING AND GROWING EACH TIME, BEFORE REALIZING THERE WERE BARELY ANY DRUMS ON IT Mr. Mitch, Devout SERIOUSLY THE MR. MITCH ALBUM WAS REALLY MOVING AND FANTASTIC Mr. Mitch f/ Denai Moore, “Fate” CRAZY WISDOM MASTER Vince Staples, Big Fish Theory C’MON AND RAISE UP Rapsody f/ Kendrick, Lance Skiiwalker, “Power” SO ICEY Zomby, Mercury’s Rainbow ECHO PARTY Demen, Nektyr Evy Jane, “Give Me Love” THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST Vic Mensa, The Autobiography DUNGEON FAMILY, EVEN IN DARKNESS Earthgang f/ J.I.D., “Meditate” FUNNY HOW TIME SLIPS AWAY Lee Gamble, Mnestic Pressure Pessimist, s/t NOT SURE HOW THIS BECAME THE DIWALI OF 2017 BUT OKAY French Montana f/ Mariah, Rae Sremmurd, PNB Rock, Belly, Elephant Man, Vybz Kartel, J Balvin, NORE, Wizkid, “Unforgettable” HOW ARE THIS MANY PEOPLE ON A FOUR MINUTE SONG? GOOD VIDEO THOUGH A$AP Mob f/ A$AP Rocky, Playboi Carti, Quavo, Lil Uzi Vert and Frank Ocean, “RAF” I LIKE IT WHEN FERG’S VOICE GETS ALL NAGGY Ferg, “Plain Jane” METRO BOOMIN MADE A BEAT THAT REMINDED ME OF RADIOHEAD Post Malone f/ Quavo, “Congratulations” THE MARIACHI VERSION IS PRETTY SWEET Brian Imanuel, “How I surprised Post Malone with a mariachi band” ”IF YOU’RE LOOKING FOR LYRICS, IF YOU’RE LOOKING TO CRY, IF YOU’RE LOOKING TO THINK ABOUT LIFE...” JonWayne, Rap Album Two CORNBALL PIANOS AND THEN THAT SYNTH DRAGS, AND THEN THE DRUMS KICK Tee Grizzley, “First Day Out” “BUT WILD/WITH MY MONOTONE STYLE” 21 Savage, “Bankroll” Kodak Black, “Candy Paint” Rich Chigga, “Glow Like Dat” ANNUAL SPOT RESERVED FOR LA MUSICA DE HARRY FRAUD French Montana f/ Pharrell, “Bring Dem Things” WHEN LAETITIA SAYS HER OWN NAME ON “EMBERS” Vagabon, Infinite Worlds WHEN JESSIE LEANS INTO THE WORD “FUCK” Jessie Reyez, “Figures” THAT LIGHT MISTING, THAT CASUAL SPRITZ OF SYNTHS Lanark Artefax, “Touch Absence” A GOOD ANTI-DJT THING THAT CAME OUT EARLY THIS YEAR, WHICH FEELS LIKE EONS AGO Lushlife + friends, My Idols are Dead + My Enemies are in Power THE BABY, THE FLUTES, PIERRE’S OBNOXIOUSLY LONG TAG, THE JESSE LINGARD DANCE Playboi Carti, “Magnolia” ILLEST SHIT I SAW THIS YEAR, BABY-RELATED A child at a restaurant watching an iPad and an iPhone at the same damn time “[FREE] PLAYBOI CARTI TYPE BEAT” YBN Nahmir, “Rubbin off the Paint” GUNS N ROSES, BEFORE ONE OF THE WEIRDEST BEEFS OF THE YEAR Trippie Redd f/ 6IX9INE, “POLES1469″ SOMETIMES YOU JUST HAVE TO BELIEVE YOU CAN SING, AND DO IT WITH CONVICTION, AND I WILL LISTEN Trippie Redd, “Rack City/Love Scars 2″ ALL THE BACKGROUND NOISE/ECHOED-OUT ADLIBS MAKE THIS BlocBoy JB, “No Chorus Pt 10″ SMERZ HAS FUN DESPITE THE AWKWARD OF IT ALL Smerz on NTS IT SEEMS REALLY EASY TO MAKE A GOOD-SOUNDING SONG THESE DAYS Global Dan, “Off White” OF ALL THE DOPE SHIT THAT FUTURE APPEARED ON THIS YEAR, THE MOMENT I WILL REMEMBER IS That tiny pause before he sings “I need fresh air,” when he seems happy and content IS THAT A GEORGE MICHAEL SAMPLE? Mozzy, “Prayed for This” THE FIX C Struggs, “Go to Jesus” "IT’S COOL, BUT IT’S NOT...END ZONE” Lil Uzi Vert, “XO TOUR Llif3″ AN ALBUM BOOKENDED BY TOTALLY DIFFERENT KINDS OF COLIN KAEPERNICK/TAKE A KNEE REFERENCES Miguel, War and Leisure IT WAS A VERY GOOD YEAR Brockhampton, Saturation I-III SZA, Ctrl SPEAKING OF SZA: WHAT A GREAT TITLE, BESIDES IT BEING ONE OF MY FAVORITE ALBUMS OF THE YEAR Kingdom, Tears in the Club THE KELELA ALBUM WAS LOVELY, AS ARE THESE Kelela x Bok Bok, Dub Me Apart A RANDOM YOUTUBE COVER THAT I ALSO LIKED, BECAUSE IT CAPTURED HOW MELODIC THE ORIGINAL ACTUALLY IS Kathleen Nguyen covering Kendrick and Zacari’s “Love.” DAMN. WAS GOOD Almost as good as “The Heart Part 4″ LIKE A DE LA SOUL ALBUM, SOMETHING THAT I KNOW I WILL CONTINUE ENJOYING/UNDERSTANDING ANEW FOR YEARS TO COME Tyler, the Creator, Flower Boy ”BLONDED RADIO” MADE ME JOIN APPLE MUSIC Frank Ocean, “Chanel” Frank Ocean, “Biking (solo)” Tyler and Frank, “Where This Flower Blooms” MACH HOMMY MAKES GOOD MUSIC THAT’S HARD TO ACCESS “x Earl Sweatshirt” EP ty Soundcloud IT’S A WEIRD TIME B/W THIS BEAT IS SO DEMENTED Tay-K, “The Race” PROBABLY MY FAVORITE PHARRELL BEAT Kap G f/ Pharrell, “Icha Gicha” MAYBE THE GREATEST MUSIC EVER MADE, REISSUED Pharoah Sanders

REMINDED ME OF PHAROAH, WHEN IT WASN’T REMINDING ME OF BON IVER Joseph Shabason, Aytche AND I ENJOYED AYTCHE FOR SIMILAR REASONS I LIKED ZONING OUT TO Tom Rogerson and Brian Eno, Finding Shore ANNUAL SLOT RESERVED FOR MUSIC I LOVED THAT FEATURED HARP Alice Coltrane, World Spirituality Classics Vol 1

SAME, BUT FOR HARP STUFF THAT ALSO SHOUTS OUT WAWA Mary Lattimore, Collected Pieces ANNUAL SLOT RESERVED FOR TASTEFUL VIBRAPHONE Jenifa Mayanja, “Warrior Strutt” YOU TRYING TO GET THE PIPE, TO PLAY IT, OF COURSE, AS PART OF AN EXPERIMENTAL COMPOSITION? Mary Jane Leach, Pipe Dreams THERE’S A MOMENT DURING THAT BAD BOY DOCUMENTARY CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP WHERE IT BECOMES CLEAR THAT EVERYONE WHO WORKS CLOSELY WITH DIDDY EVENTUALLY TURNS TO GOD, AND IT WAS LIKE THE STRANGE OBVERSE OF Jay Z et al, 4:44 footnotes 2016, BUT I SAT IN THE MET BREUER AND WATCHED THIS OVER AND OVER FOR ABOUT AN HOUR Arthur Jafa, “Love is the Message, The Message is Death” I WANT TO WATCH THE FULL FOUR HOURS OF THIS Dev Hynes talking to Philip Glass TRICKSTERY BUT KINDA MESMERIZING! Klein, Tommy Lolina, Lolita EP Hype Williams, Rainbow Edition “NOT ANOTHER GOT MORE SEOUL, UNLESS YOU KOREAN” (CHILLWAVE REMIX) Mogwaa, Deja Vu “THE TING GOES SKRRRAHH, PAP, PAP, KA-KA-KA/SKIDIKI-PAP-PAP, AND A PU-PU-PUDRRRR-BOOM/SKYA, DU-DU-KU-KU-DUN-DUN/POOM, POOM, YOU DON’ KNOW” Big Shaq, “Mans Not Hot” IBID., BUT “PERKY” Drake, More Life I WANTED TO LIKE THE WIZKID ALBUM MORE, BUT THIS WAS AWESOME Tiwa Savage f/ Wizkid and Spellz, “Ma Lo” LISTENED TO THIS QUITE A FEW TIMES SIMPLY BECAUSE ”BREAKING NEWS: WILD GOAT ON THE LOOSE” IS A WEIRD LINE Lancey Foux f/ AJ Tracey, Kojey Radical and Jevon, “Wild Goat” UNITED TIL I DIE BUT AJ TRACEY’S TOTTENHAM HOTSPUR KIT LAUNCH FREESTYLE HAD ME BUZZZZZZIN AJ Tracey, “False 9″ DIFFERENT TIME OF DAY, KINDA LEFT ME SPEECHLESS Grouper, “Children” Colleen, A Flame my love, a frequency Kara Lis Coverdale, Grafts Ryuichi Sakamoto, async LEFT RYUICHI SAKAMOTO ENVIOUS Metaphors: Selected Soundworks from the Cinema of Apichatpong Weerasethakul FROM OMNI TRIO TO THIS, A PRETTY VISIONARY CAREER Robert Haigh, Creatures of the Deep A SONG THAT FEATURED TWO PEOPLE WHO SHOULD BE PRETTY BIG IN THE NEXT COUPLE OF YEARS DJDS f/ Amber Mark and Marco McKinnis, “Trees on Fire” LIKE, THIS IS GREAT Amber Mark, “Lose My Cool” AWESOME YEAR FOR POTIONS Social Lovers, “Drop Me a Line” Boss, “Song for Gods” WHISKED ME BACK TO MEMORIES OF the enormous room Joakim, “Samurai” Calvin Harris f/ Frank Ocean and Migos, “Slide” Amp Fiddler, “I’m Feeling You” Chaos in the CBD, Accidental Meetings LIKE FALLING ASLEEP ON THE SUBWAY, OR A TRUCK HITTING A POTHOLE AND SPITTING OUT A RECORD COLLECTION, OR HEARING A NANOSECOND OF BRAND NUBIAN THROUGH SOMEONE’S HEADPHONES AS YOU PASS THEM ON THE STREET, IT’S A VIBE Standing on the Corner, Red Burns MIKE’S A SAVIOR Mike 1. I SPENT A LOT OF TIME THIS YEAR THINKING ABOUT THE STRENGTH, ELASTICITY, FRAGILITY, GRAIN OF THE HUMAN VOICE AND SOME OF THIS WAS TOTALLY NECESSARY AND SUBLIME Deep Throat Choir, Be Ok Diamanda Galas, All the Way Moses Sumney, Aromanticism 2. SO ACHINGLY GOOD AND INTIMATE, ESPECIALLY THAT FAINT CROAK IN THE FIRST CHORUS Rostam f/ Kelly Zutrau, “Half-Light” 3. OF COURSE THESE WORLD-MAKERS TOO Bjork, Utopia Kaitlyn Aurelia Smith, The Kid Valerie June, “Astral Plane” 3a. A STRANGE PROPOSITION THAT I ENDED UP ADORING KAS covering Sade’s "By Your Side" THE BAY AREA IS JUST DIFFERENT Droop-E, Trillionaire Thoughts Lil B, Black Ken THE “BUILD YOU UP” VIDEO WAS FUN AND ALL BUT I’M REALLY GLAD THIS WASN’T THAT Kamiayah, Before I Wake THE BAY TO L.A. AND BACK AGAIN Mozzy f/ G Perico, “Blammatory” G Perico f/ Mozzy, “What’s Real” GYEAH MC Eiht, Which Way Iz West OUTRUN THE BEAT SOB x RBE, “Lane Changing 2″ BANDS THAT ALWAYS SOUND LIKE THEMSELVES, IN WAYS THAT I FIND COMFORTING the xx, I See You King Krule, The Ooz SAME AS ABOVE, MIDDLE-AGED DIVISION The Feelies, In Between Slowdive, “Star Roving” SOMEONE WHO SOUNDS LIKE NO ONE ELSE Jlin, Black Origami THE NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM Dreezy f/ 6LACK and Kodak Black, “Spar” I LOOKED UP EACH TIME THIS CAME ON THE SHUFFLE Shanti Celeste, “Loop One/Selector”

PROBABLY MY FAVORITE SONG GoldLink f/ Brent Faiyaz and Shy Glizzy, “Crew” OR MAYBE Jorja Smith x Preditah, “On My Mind” THIS WAS SICK TOO GoldLink & Co. covering Outkast’s “Roses” MAYBE THE BEST SONG J Hus, “Did You See”

ANOTHER YEAR, ANOTHER YEAR WHERE MY FAVORITE RELEASE WAS PROBABLY FROM YAEJI, THE “GLASSES FOGGING UP” LINE WAS VERY RELATABLE Yaeji, EP2 THE SONG OF THE SPRING, SUMMER, WINTER   I MEAN, IT’S WAYNE’S WORLD, WE JUST LIVE IN IT ### SIKH DEVOTIONAL MUSIC :: 2016 SPOOKY BLACK :: 2015

[margarittet]

Why the SPN mixtape scene from 12x19 is screenwriting gold, and should be taught to the next generations of screenwriters everywhere - analysis

20 seconds. Two lines of dialogue, three gestures, a couple more camera angles. Episode 19, season 12 of a genre TV show “Supernatural”. A single strike of screenwriting and cinematic genius. The mixtape scene.

Robert Berens and Meredith Glynn, I bow before you.

This scene should be used as an example for future screenwriters how you can put maximum of meaning into minimal time and dialogue. Should be analyzed and taught at universities everywhere, how to achieve the most using the least. How to write for TV, where you only have less than an hour to built something spectacular.

WOW.

Let’s just peel off all the layers of these 20 seconds of footage and these 13 words. 13 WORDS.

(Cas knocks, Dean doesn’t say anything. Cas opens the door, apologizes for disturbing Dean in his room, and then takes a cassette tape out of his left inside coat pocket, and puts it on the desk, while tapping the label on it that says “Deans (sic!) top 13 Zepp traxx”.)

Cas: Um, I just wanted to return this.

Dean: It’s a gift. You keep those.

13 tracks. 13 words. The future. So number thirteen is important for the future. I mean, are you trying to tell us something here, writers?

(Dean takes the tape, oustreches his arm, and gives it back to Cas. We see Cas’ hand grabbing the tape, and taking it back.)

That tiny scene is ENORMOUS from the perspective of the narrative and the characterization. Let’s see what we can get out of it. (Prepare yourself: it’s gonna be long. Damn, how much meta can you write based on 20 seconds of television and two lines of dialogue?) (Hint: A lot.)

Thoughts in no particular order.

LotR reference

Let’s start with text, because text is kinda my thing. This is this:

I half expected Dean to roll his eyes at himself for acting like an elvish maiden - maybe he did internally. Anyway, we all remember how Aragorn and Arwen’s story ended, right? (In the movies at least.) 

It’s great how Cas and Dean re never strictly cast as a female mirror or male mirror in any of the romantic pararells that the show does. Their gender roles and characteristics are extremely fluid, and it’s wonderful.

2) The label

Deans (sic!) top 13 Zepp traxx”

First thing: “Deans” - not “Top 13 Zepp traxx”, not “The best of Led Zepp”. DEAN’S top 13 Led Zepp tracks. This shit is personal. Your favourite music says a lot about you, it’s like showing somebody your favourite book, or your favourite fictional character. ONE favourite track says something about what you like, feel, think. 13 songs of your favourite band, especially if that band is Led Zeppelin? You may as well get naked, because you can’t uncover yourself much more than that. This stuff makes you open and vulnerable. They will know what you like, what you enjoy, what you feel, what kind of stories your favourite music tells. It’s a mirror of you. Led Zepp is not a band with three beats and five words in the lyrics. It’s long, it’s literary, and it’s epic. It tells a lot about the person, especially a person who loves music and stories as much as Dean does. By showing Cas that he loves these 13 songs of Led Zeppelin, he told Cas he loves cock rock, sexual innuendos, shameless romanticism, fantasy references, biblical imagery, American blues, stories about life, death, love, sex, angels, Satan, mythology, science-fiction and Lord of the Rings. If this band is not a metaphor for the many sides of the real Dean Winchester, I don’t know what is. Dean showed Cas his non-performing side.

This is not even good gift giving, Dean, darling - a nice gift would be giving Cas music HE would enjoy, not you. Give him Beyonce (“Halo” would be nice, lol), give him rap, give him some Britney Spears. No, you gave him Led Zepp, with a NOTE that these are your favourite songs.

You wanted to show yourself to him. This is fucking intimate.

The cassette is a symbol for Dean, for Dean's heart, like the necklace was a symbol of Arwen's heart. That is why no matter what Cas did in 12x19, Dean is still on his side. Why he fixed his truck, gave him the Impala keys without thinking, tried to talk to him instead of fighting him, why he was so hurt Cas left before. That's why he didn't even consider taking the cassette back. Because he has made his decision, he gave himself to Cas, and he will not hear of Cas giving it back (you can't give it back, really). Just look how quickly Cas grabs the tape back. He even uses it later to highlight "we", waving it between him and Dean. This moment is showing us Dean has given his true self to Cas, and he is not changing his mind. This happened already, and no one witnessed it but the two of them. Cas only tried to give it back, because he thought that after what he was about to do, Dean would want it back. Nope.

Nothing to see here. Moving on.

“Top 13”

Yeah, these are his favourite songs, but not all of them, just the best ones. Why thirteen? This is actually a weird number of songs for a cassette tape, especially for a band like Led Zeppelin. It’s too few for 90 min, and too many for 60 min (usual lengths of tapes). So I see three reasons:

Dean just chose songs that send exactly the message he wanted to send, so he didn’t need more songs.

It’s a reference to season 13 - which, I believe, will be romance heavy and amazing.

It’s a reference to “13 Reasons Why”, a show about a girl’s suicide and cassette tapes since this is the same episode where Kelly kills herself, dies, and is revived by the Nephilim, (and therefore it’s canon that the Nephilim can bring people from the dead. Cas, anyone?)

All of the above.

“Zepp”

Besides the fact that liking Led Zeppelin says tons about the real Dean Winchester, it has also different meanings:

Led Zeppelin is a shorthand for seduction, but also for a cosmic romantic connection.

We know two situations where Led Zepp is mentioned in terms of seducing somebody. Jo mentions that hunters want to get into her pants with “some pizza, a sixpack and side one of Zeppelin IV”. This means pretty much the same as “they think they can impress me with cool music while they only know four songs played frequently on the radio, fucking posers.” See, I know Dean is better than to put Stairway to Heaven or Rock n’ Roll on his mixtape, since these are the most popular, i.e. impersonal of Zeppelin songs (although he may be partial to “Battle of Evermore”, since he is a huge nerd). Aaaaaanyway, the other time we see Led Zepp as a seduction technique is when Nick the Siren talks to Dean about some more obscure Led Zepp records - he outdid Dean with his knowledge of Led Zepp trivia - and Dean is bought. This is exactly the opposite of knowing only side A of Zeppelin IV. This is a real deal, and Dean is so mesmerized.

And then we have the literal “match made in Heaven” of John and Mary - and we know she used Led Zeppelin to test John as a potential lover. He knew all the lyrics (again, real, deep knowledge of the subject vs the superficial one), and she knew he was worth going for. I don’t think Dean is testing Cas, but I think that since John and Mary connected over Zeppelin LYRICS, the lyrics are as important for Dean as the music is. That’s why he used them to show Cas what he feels. And it also reminds him of his parents.

Plus, honestly, if reciting/playing Led Zepp lyrics to somebody doesn’t feel dirty and/or disgustingly romantic, you’re doing it wrong. “Squeeze me baby, ‘till the juice runs down my leg”? Really? 

Led Zepp is connected to John

Remember how, when we see Dean for the first time connecting with a kid in season 1, he teaches him that “Zeppelin rules”? That’s because Zeppelin is in Deans mind “father’s music”. It’s something you show your kid, something you can bond over. 

It’s a well known thing that we choose partners similar to our parents, so it’s not a shocker that Dean connects John’s music with his love interests. It’s nothing weird. If he was going for a girl, he’d look for somebody who is like more like Mary (and since she also loved Led Zepp - well, remember Jo?)

Led Zepp is connected to Mary. 

Since Dean and Mary are so similar, it’s not surprising that his first thought how to connect with his love interest is through Led Zeppelin (just how her was, when she met John).

“Traxx”

Ha! This one is great. They spelled it this way probably mostly to get our attention. “Tracks” was a legendary gayclub in Washington DC, and even now there is a gay club under this name in Denver, plus there are gay clubs all around the US and Canada that are called “Trax” or “Traxx”. Subtle and awesome. It’s a nice shout out to Dean saying he was in Purgatory in Miami.  

(Edit: Plus, as many people pointed out to me since I wrote this piece, XX is also a common shorthand for kisses. I knew that, but I wasn’t sure it was something Dean would do. But now I agree. I guess I didn’t give Dean enough credit for being sappy. :)

The whole “Deans top 13 Zepp Traxx” label is Dean “no-homo”ing the tape - “Dude, look how cool I am, ain’t got no time for good grammar and proper spelling, dude. Bro.” You know, in case Sam sees the tape, and there are questions. *eyeroll*

3) Music as a non-textual device

It was said once that even though Led Zeppelin is Dean Winchester’s favourite band, we will not ever hear it on the show, because the royalties are just too. Damn. Expensive. The show can’t afford it in their budget to put Led Zeppelin on the soundtrack, even though the band’s music is crucial to understanding Dean Winchester’s complexity. So instead of scraping more money, they pulled “High Fidelity”, and put music IN THE NARRATIVE. This, my loves, is pragmatism 101. Why to spend a fortune to put ONE Led Zepp song in the episode, when you could just send your viewers to their Spotify account and listen to ALL the songs there, thus creating their own soundtrack for this episode and the relationship between the characters. I wish I would be this smart. This actually achieved several goals at once.

All Led Zeppelin music is now a textual part of the universe and Dean’s character, not just two songs that he mentioned in season 4. We know the tape has 13 songs, but we don’t know which ones, which means all the songs can be there, until we are told differently - “Schroedinger’s Mixtape”. Some viewers can even no-homo the tape by picking the songs that are neither sexual nor romantic, but it will be HARD.

4) Michelangelo’s “The creation of Adam”

In the way this moment is shot, we are reminded where they stand in the beginning of this episode - Cas is the celestial being (who just has been to Heaven), and Dean once again represents humanity - the humanity that Cas is canonically in love with.

(On another note: Michelangelo is one of the most famous gay icons in history.)

5) This short moment showed us as well that there is so much stuff happening off screen that we never get too see. Who knows what else we don’t know? What else happened between these two characters that we never heard about? This made me think we should always be careful with the new showrunners, since they love puzzles, games, and pieces of information peppered over the whole season that are not always what they are. There is ALWAYS MORE. They love playing with meta reading, and it’s glorious. 

Also, instead of showing us the moment where Dean gives Cas the tape (what would be a regular thing to do), they showed us the BACK END of the situation. We have to construct what happened from the end, backwards. We know Cas got the tape, both characters know what happened between them when he received it from Dean, but we HAVE NO IDEA. We don’t get to see it because we were not privy to that moment. It was JUST BETWEEN THEM. It was an intimate moment that no one else got to witness, even the audience. And it makes it so much more important. It adds a new level of privacy and intimacy to their relationship, and it’s amazing, especially since the last few seasons seemed like they never are alone anymore. 

6) Why a cassette tape? Especially since we don’t even know if Cas has a way to listen to it? 

Because it’s a frikkin’ romantic trope!

In the world of storytelling mixtapes scream romance, and not much else (well, parental love, but that is so not the case here). It’s a thing that made me sit up and stare at the screen the moment it arrived, because I couldn’t believe they went there. I thought it was another queerbaiting moment, like the infamous boner prom-shot, but once they started sharing with each other how they felt, ALONE, ON SCREEN, IN WORDS, I knew it wasn’t. It was a way to show more casual viewers a symbol they would understand, while still staying in character. Dean would not write a love letter, or a poem, or even speak openly about his feelings, but he so would take time and effort to create a tape, especially since mixtapes were the language of showing your feelings that was in use when he was young and had his first crushes. And if Cas was more human, he’d understand it immediately. I hope he did anyway, he has got his pop culture references from Metatron, maybe some John-Hughes-references there.

The tape is new, the label is clean, words visible, plastic unscratched. If it was a tape Dean had before, it’s be dirty from lying in his car forever. Plus, noone makes mixtapes for themselves, especially when they already have albums - it’s too much effort for too little gain. It’s not John’s, because it cleary says “Dean’s”. Ergo - it’s freshly made. For Cas.

In conclusion: with the shortest piece of dialogue possible, and exactly three movements of the actors, they shot the narrative onwards and upwards on so many levels: 

Dean’s performing facade falling down,

Dean showing (and giving) his true self to Cas,

Hints of off-screen moments between them that we know nothing about (added a new level of intimacy), 

Cas being linked to the textual and intertextual codes for eternal love and sexual seduction, 

Some hints for the future,

Dean is humanity (and Cas loves humanity),

Bisexual!Dean,

Binding the show to its earlier seasons.

20 seconds. 13 words. I am blown away.

I probably could find more layers, but I think four pages of meta for 20 seconds of TV is enough for now. Thanks for reading! It was fun!

[jeremichal-archive]

If you're still doing prompts then... ”if i wasnt incredibly happy to see you i’d kick your ass” with Raychael because it's my favorite and I'm desperate for content (fahc if you can, but I honestly will take anything) ❤️

disentangle

Nonnie, honestly thank you so much for this prompt because I fucking LOVE how this turned out. So, I hope you enjoy this just as much as I do, let me know what you think!

Pairing: Raychael & Mentioned JerevinWarnings: Swearing

He’s three blocks away from the penthouse before he even realises it, feet pounding against the concrete as he dodges past the pedestrians blocking his way. It’s purely by instinct that he’s managed to end up so close to the crew again, crossing back into their territory without even thinking about it. He’d missed getting a bullet to the shoulder by pure dumb luck, jumped a fence into some suburban families back yard and hoofed it across the city with pure panic burning through his veins- and this is where he ends up?

He’d laugh if he weren’t currently running for his life.

He doesn’t actually need to look over his shoulder to know he’s still being chased, since it’s not that hard to distinguish between the frightened yells of the innocents on the street and the furious grunts that keep slipping out of the man and lady hot on his heels. They haven’t caught him yet, and that’s all he really cares about, so Ray just keeps sprinting down the street, heading straight for an awkward reunion- something that’s probably more trouble than it’s worth.

He spins left, skidding to a complete stop for a moment before he’s off again, ducking through alleys with uneven steps. It’s hard to keep balance and he almost trips a few times, but luck seems to be on his side today so each time he pulls himself out of it with minimal damage. A swift, sharp turn to the right, a long sprint down the sidewalk and then an over dramatic jump over a trash can that he ties together with an out of breath, “parkour!” gets him a few seconds of respite a street away from the penthouse. He flops against a brick wall, half curled in on himself with his hands on his knees, breath coming out in uneven pants.

They haven’t moved- the crew, that is- he’d know if they’d packed up their shit and switched bases. He might be out, but he’s not out of the loop and thankfully Tina’s pretty good at getting information out of people without needing the threat of knives at her disposal. They haven’t moved, so he’s got pretty good odds on the fact someone will bound to be there waiting for him when he climbs the stairs and spams the call button.

It’s just the question of who- and Ray finds himself pleading with fate for it not to be Michael.

He straightens himself up, throws a hurried glance over his shoulder and then lets out a loud, unabashed groan at the thought of seeing the crew again after so long. He’s fucked, he realises, because it’s not going to be a one-time thing. He’s going to see Geoff and the old man’s going to pull him into a hug. Or he’s going to see Gavin and get bullied into coming upstairs to play a few rounds of Halo together.

Or he’s going to see Michael, and he’s going to have a heart attack there on the spot and then he’ll be dead. There’s no perceivable outcome where things go smoothly, and as hard as the thought is to swallow, Ray knows he just has to fucking do it.

So attempt two comes in the form of Ray biting at his cheek hard enough to draw blood, the sound of his shoes scraping across the sidewalk as he drags his feet and the mutterings of the word, “fuck,” again and again. He doesn’t know if he’s lost his tail permanently or if they’re just waiting for the perfect moment to jump him, so he can’t spend all day out on the street, but he wishes he could.

Taking the steps two at a time, he pauses by the intercom and then just jams his finger onto the penthouse button violently, repeatedly.

buzz, buzz, buzz, buzzzzzzzzzz, buzz, buzz, buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Gavin! Fucking asshole, stop! Holy fuck boi, did you fucking forget your key or somethin’?” Michael’s voice cuts through the air and Ray lets his hand drop, hating the way his chest does its weird little flutter at the sound of the other man’s yelling. The breath he sucks in is shaky for another reason, but he ignores it because that’s all that he can really do. His finger pushes speaker button and when he answers he tries not to sound like he’s a fourteen-year-old boy with a crush.

“Aye, Michael. Turns out I have, dude, it’s been missing for what? A year and a half now? Definitely need to get a new one, but for now, can you buzz me up?” he says, sounding way more confident than how he actually feels. “Really can’t be on the street right now.”

Michael doesn’t answer him, and Ray’s stomach almost drops out of his ass, because he didn’t really consider the completely valid possibility of being ignored. He hovers there awkwardly for a moment, not sure if he should just leg it towards his own apartment or maybe Tina’s, but then the door buzzes open and he slips inside- not wanting to ask twice.

It’s only when he’s standing in front of the penthouse door that he realises what the fuck he’s doing and the nerves flare back to life. He’s going to see Michael again, he’s going to see his ex-best friend again after a year and a half of pining after him? He’s going to look Michael in the eye and pretend that he’s forgotten the last thing he said to him?

“Of course we’ll keep in touch man, you can’t get fucking rid of me that easily.”

Yeah, he is. He can handle it.

He kicks the door twice and tucks his hands into the pockets of his jeans, waiting for Michael to let him in. Adrenaline is still somewhat pumping through his veins, but it’ll fade soon enough and once he knows for sure that he’s safe, he’ll head back to Tina. He’ll tell her that the deal flopped, he’ll tell her how fucking cool he looked during his getaway and he’ll tell her that he talked to Michael for the first time in over a year. She’ll be… she’ll have mixed emotions, that’s the best he can say. She’ll probably call him an idiot to be honest.

He looks up when the door swings open and doesn’t bother waiting for Michael to invite him in, he shoulders his way through the doorway and catches sight of two pairs of eyes watching him from over the top of the couch. Michael lets out a huff, but Ray deliberately doesn’t pay him much attention. Instead, he shoulders off his jacket and offers Jeremy and Matt a small wave.

“Hey, assholes. Thanks for letting me up, I needed a piss,” he declares, dropping his jacket on the kitchen bench before retreating down the hallway towards the bathroom without another word. He does not need to piss, not at all, but he doesn’t think he could stomach the idea of standing there while three pairs of eyes stared at him. It’s a bit nerve-wracking to be back here, a place he used to call home, especially since it hasn’t changed a bit. He doesn’t feel like he belongs, which he probably doesn’t, but it’s too late to leave now.

A hand on his shoulder stops him from slipping into the bathroom and hiding in there for an hour, and when he spins around he’s met with the sight of Michael’s brown eyes watching him closely.

“Hey,” he mumbles and Michael’s eyes soften.

“Man, if I wasn’t incredibly happy to see you, I’d kick your fucking ass,” he replies and Ray can’t help but snort. Michael doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a hug and Ray goes along willingly, although his heart does skip a beat at the way his arms tightly wrap around him.

“I guess I’d deserve it,” he replies and the light laugh he gets in return from Michael is just a little bit too much for his gay heart to handle. They pull away from each other, but Michael doesn’t give Ray the opportunity to miss the closeness since his hand slips into Ray’s and it takes all of his control not to look down at their hands clasped together.

They’ve slipped back into their old selves so easily that Ray can’t help but let out a breath of relief.

“Yeah, you would dickhead. But to what do we owe the pleasure, huh?” Michael asks and he glances back over his shoulder. Ray follows his line of sight; Jeremy’s in the kitchen, in perfect position to watch them and with the way Michael turns slightly pink, Ray feels like he’s out of the loop somehow.

“I was being chased, deal gone wrong. But you should have seen me, Michael; I looked like a fucking action hero, parkouring all over the place,” he replies and Michael rolls his eyes. Ray grins at him and then suddenly he’s being pulled out of the hallway, a quiet, “come on,” offered as the only explanation why. But he lets Michael lead him past Jeremy and into the living room and then watches Michael sit down on the couch. He can take a hint, so he drops down onto the couch beside him, twisting his body enough so that he can kick his legs up onto Michael’s lap, who glares back at him briefly before giving in and resting his hands on Ray’s legs.

When Jeremy shuffles back in with a water bottle and a look on his face that Ray can’t decipher, Ray realises something’s up- and when he looks at Michael his suspicions are confirmed. The other man is glaring at both Jeremy and Matt as his thumb lazily rubs circles into Ray’s ankle and it’s honestly ridiculous.

“So how have things been, you know… with the crew?” Ray asks and three pairs of eyes snap back to him. His distraction seems to work, cause Michael loses his glare and Jeremy and Matt switch their focus onto him.

“Uh, we’ve just been planning different heists, I had my own one a few months ago,” Jeremy replies, shrugging and then he suddenly snaps his fingers, “Oh! We settled shit with FakeHouse, plus Lindsay’s in charge now and we’ve been trying to get in contact with a few other crews!”

“Yeah, we’re branching out,” Matt adds, leaning forward to grab the Xbox controller lying discarded on the coffee table. Ray tracks his movement with his eyes and then glances over towards the television, only now realising they must have been playing Minecraft before he showed up. Something in Jeremy’s sentence sticks with him though and he looks back at Michael, who’s watching him closely.

“Lindsay’s in charge? What happened to Geoff?” he asks and there’s just a little bit too much vulnerability in the statement that he doesn’t appreciate.

“Geoff’s fine, Ray,” Michael murmurs and Ray feels himself relax, “he’s just fucking old as dirt and doesn’t want to have to deal with all the serious shit anymore. He’s technically still our boss, but Lindsay can overrule him if she wants, not that he listens.”

“Can’t teach an old dog new tricks,” Jeremy mutters and everyone snorts.

“When are the rest of the guys getting back,” he asks and all three of them shrug, to which Ray rolls his eyes. “Fucking helpful, thanks, assholes,” he mumbles and they laugh. He knows he can’t hang around forever, he’s not a part of the crew anymore and this isn’t his home. He’ll have to head back to his apartment sooner or later, but for now, it’s nice pretending that things are still the same as they were before he left.

The rest of the crew get home an hour later when Michael has somehow manoeuvred them both so that Ray’s basically in his lap, and Matt and Jeremy have switched games three times. There's a bit of awkward silence when they pile through the door and catch sight of Ray squished against Michael, all four of them playing drawful 2. Enough that Ray considers standing up and bolting through the door, just to avoid the tension- but Michael’s arms slither around his waist as if he can read the smaller boy’s thoughts and so Ray stays. He tips his head back and meets Ryan’s questioning eyes and salutes him before looking back at the television screen.

“Should we… are we interrupting something?” Geoff mutters and Matt and Jeremy both laugh in unison and that's honestly creepy.

“No, Geoff,” Matt says.

“Nah, you give them too much credit,” adds Jeremy. Ray feels Michael tense beside him but when raises an eyebrow Michael just shakes him off.

Things settle after that, Ryan filters off towards his room and comes back five minutes later sans his skull mask and face paint. Jack settles into the couch opposite them with a small grin and Geoff lowers himself beside her, tucking himself up against her side. Gavin heads straight for Jeremy and both him and Michael tell them to get a room the second Gavin kisses him. It’s so comfortable coming back, and part of him doesn’t understand why he waited for so long to do it. Maybe he was just afraid that they’d treat him differently, maybe he was afraid that he’d be unwelcomed. But he’s not, and he realises he was right, it’s not going to be a one-time thing.

He’s going to come back, he’s going to stay for dinner and crash on the couch. He’s going to get addicted to Michael’s touch again after being starved of it for so long, he’s going to kid himself into thinking he could come back. That he could come back.

It’s that thought that makes him disentangle himself from Michael’s arms, pulling himself up onto his feet with a huff. Everyone’s eyes shoot towards him but he just grins and levels a thumb towards the door. He needs to leave, being with them is just filling his head with impossible fantasies.

“I better be heading off, gotta let Tina know the shit that went down today,” he says and he’s never seen seven faces all flash with disappointment until the moment he lets his words slip out. They don’t try and stop him, though, they just all nod and stand up to say goodbye, letting him leave without a fight. Part of him almost wants a fight, part of him wants Gavin to whine for one more game and Michael to pin him to the couch.

He ignores that part though, because that’s a dangerous thought.

He grabs his jacket from the kitchen bench and slips it on, pulling open the front door to slip out and it’s only then that he realises he has a second shadow. Michael’s behind him when he glances over his shoulder and the other man gestures for him to keep moving. Michael can follow him if he wants, it doesn’t make a difference to him, he tells himself, even though his stomach does a little flip at the thought.

They don’t talk until Ray is pushing his way out of the building and Michael is hot on his heels. He spins around, ready to say goodnight and goodbye, but Michael beats him to it.

“You’ll come back, yeah?” he asks and Ray freezes. “I don’t think I’ll be able to handle it if this is the last time I get to see you. I know I won’t be able to handle if I let myself think this is it, only for you to come back again a year later. So, I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“I mean…” Ray shrugs, “I can try, dude. But I can’t make any promises-”

“No. That’s not good enough,” Michael spits back and Ray sucks in a breath. “You either come back, or- or you don’t,” he finishes and Ray grimaces. He doesn’t know if he has this in him again, doesn’t know if he could come back and see Michael- touch Michael- and be able to go home again alone. He knows, deep down, that being a part of the crew again is nothing more than a pipe dream. He’s not a FAKE anymore, and he likes it that way- no matter how easy it would be to slip back into his old skin again.

“I’m not supposed to be here,” he mumbles and Michael’s face morphs into one of confusion. “I left,” he continues, “I left and I’m not coming back, not like that again Michael. Fuck man, I love the crew, I love all of you guys- I love you, Michael- but I’m not coming back again. So that means I’m not supposed to be here, that means that every time I come back I’m just that little more tempted to stay.”

He falls silent, not quite sure if he wants to hear Michael’s response. He doesn’t know how to fix things, now that he’s gone and complicated things again. If he had just stayed away, took a right instead of a left and just gone to Tina’s, he wouldn’t have to face this hollowing sense of homesickness that he has no right to feel.

“You love me?” Michael asks and Ray looks up at him, forehead crinkling because when did he let that slip- fuck. FUCK. “As in, you’re in love with me?” he asks and Ray doesn’t want to be here anymore. His heart is beating too fast and he can feel his poker face slipping away, he might pass out? This wasn’t a part of the plan, this wasn’t a part of the fucking plan. He can’t lie to Michael, the other man will see right through him and honestly, saying yes isn’t a much better answer. He’s screwed, fucked, finished, done.

Michael must see the answer written on his face because he pulls back slightly as if Ray just slapped him. He levels a finger between the two of them, pointing it shakily at Ray’s chest and he says, “Okay, okay, we’re going to talk about that in a minute-”

“Oh God no,” Ray mumbles and Michael shakes his head.

“Fuck yes, we are. But, but first… you know you don’t have to be in the crew to hang out with us, right Ray? You don’t have to pull heists with us and go on jobs, you don’t have to stay with us twenty-four seven. You can stay, but you don’t have to stay,” he replies and Ray frowns.

“But… that’s not how it works Michael,” he says, “I can already feel it, I can already see it in everyone's eyes- even yours. How easy it would be to come back, how expected it would be- there's no way you’ll all be able to handle me staying for a month and then leaving for three? There's no way because sooner or later you’ll resent me for leaving. You’ll resent me for not staying like I used to.”

“Ray.” Michael takes a step forwards and it takes all of Ray’s willpower not to move back, “Having you for one month is better than never having you again,” he whispers, “and we’ll get used to it. We know we can’t keep you here, we know that expecting any different is just stupid. We’ll miss you when you’re gone, fuck yeah we will, but at least we’ll know this time that you’re coming back. You’ll come back to us, you’ll come back to me.”

Ray sucks in a breath, tilting his head back slightly. It’s too tempting, every honey dipped word that slips from Michael’s lips is too tempting. He’d convinced himself after he left that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds- it was either the crew or freedom. It was hell to choose, it was torture to walk away from his family- to take estrangement without a fight and just be free. To be able to leave for Italy without worrying if the crew thought him to be dead, to be able to take a job without clearing it with Geoff first.

Freedom was nice, freedom was everything he’d hoped it would be- but it demanded a sacrifice and he’d paid it.

“Michael,” he begs, but for what he doesn’t quite know. Michael seems to understand, though, because he closes the distance between them and pulls Ray into his arms, tucking his chin into the crook of his neck. His hands rub up and down his spine, his heartbeat is just a little bit too fast, but it’s everything Ray needs.

“You can stay,” he whispers, “or you can leave. You can do both. But you can’t do neither. You just have to choose what you want Ray, you just need to choose.”

Now that one's easy. He could answer that in his sleep.

“I want you.”

Michael sucks in a breath and Ray lets his eyes slip closed, listening to the way Michael’s heart beats faster at his words. “You can have me. You already have me...” he admits, falling silent for a moment. When he speaks again, Ray’s almost completely sure that he mishears him at first. “I love you too, you know.”

“I didn’t, so thank you...” he replies and he doesn’t have to look at Michael’s face to know he rolls his eyes. “Hey, let’s go back upstairs, yeah? You’ve still got that double bed right?” he asks and Michael pulls back enough to catch his eyes.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Tina can wait till morning. I’m exhausted, dude,” he mumbles, “let’s go to bed.” The look of understanding that flashes across Michael’s gaze lets him know all that he needs to and he smiles.

Both. He can do both.