#this is an insane post and i recognize that but yeet | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

alectoperdita · 9 months ago

Note

For the ficlets request, 'meeting upon the threshold' more in that universe of DSOD Kaiba realizing what the could have had and now he fucked up or just jealous DSOD Kaiba . (hope all is well with you sending all the good internet vibes)

Oh anon, I hope you were ready to receive a full-ass sequel chapter. Hope this satisfies your prompt(s). 🥺 They gave me a lot to think about (lol obviously, based on how much I wrote), and it's driving me more insane with yet more to consider. For now, I yeet this for peace of mind.

Read "Meeting upon the threshold" on AO3

word count: 4281 rating: M tags: post-DSOD, Kaiba being an asshole, one-night stand, open ending, mild sexual content, anal sex, unprotected sex

---

The forbidden fruit of knowledge sat with him—day after day, then week after week, festering with the sickeningly sweet scent of onsetting rot.

He should've discarded it. As soon as Isono, knitted brows visible above the lip of his sunglasses, handed him the dossier he'd requested, he should've ordered it disposed of. Kaiba recognized his employee's confusion, even concern. He even felt a bit of it toward himself. It had been years since he'd shown any interest in someone on the mortal plane who wasn't an active security risk, much less in Yugi's ilk.

Kaiba lost track of Yugi years ago when he retired from dueling.

But that was what made it confusing. Kaiba hadn't requested information on Yugi, but Jounouchi fucking Katsuya.

As much as Kaiba refused to admit it, his meeting with an alternate version of himself, one engaged to Jounouchi, haunted him. He spent more time than warranted replaying the encounter again and again in his head, searching for any hint of disharmony simmering beneath the surface. They might be blissfully happy or lying to themselves in a sham of a relationship. But Kaiba couldn't tell because he didn't know them.

Not anymore than he knew or understood the Jounouchi of his universe, no matter how much dirt Isono and the security team dug up on the man.

The files sat in a drawer in his office, the digital copy in his email. Against his better judgment, he'd pull it up and review the content every few days. After the first week, he practically had it memorized.

By the end of the second week, its luster grew too bright, too deceptively tempting, to ignore.

Call it a capitulation to curiosity; a momentary weakness. Either way, he counted on it finally purging his fixation.

Kaiba was ready to forget the unfortunate detour and move on. Put everything he saw of the other Seto and his fiance and bury it in a mental compartment never to be unearthed again.

Again, Isono demonstrated mute surprise not only because Kaiba left the office early in the evening, but the slight lift of his eyebrows said he recognized the address Kaiba requested to be driven to.

His bodyguard knew better than to say anything, though. If he hadn't made a peep when Mokuba divested from the company and moved to America, why would he start now?

Jounouchi, the other Jounouchi's words rose unbidden in his mind: "You already pushed everyone away, haven't you?"

Kaiba shoved the memory aside.

Traffic was light as they made their way to the old commercial district. Thanks to stubborn neighborhood associations, new development had stalled in this area compared to the rest of the city. The businesses here were family-owned and run by old timers more concerned with nostalgia than progress.

Time was on Kaiba's side. He could wait them out.

Really, he wasn't surprised Jounouchi opened his establishment here. If only so he could be another thorn in his side.

The first time he saw it in Jounouchi's files, he'd laughed. The sound resonated through his office. Never in a million years would Kaiba have pictured Jounouchi as a small business owner, especially given his rather spotty employment history. But a death in the family, and not the one everyone would've guessed, had gifted the man an unexpected windfall.

The restaurant license was legitimate. Kaiba checked twice.

Removed from the city's more vibrant business and entertainment districts, the neighborhood resembled a slice of time crystalized in amber. Its vibes were positively sleepy, and its streets were devoid of pedestrians. Hardly bustling. Kaiba doubted any business in the area qualified as booming.

He sneered. Appropriate—a third-rate restaurant in a deadbeat part of town, run by a deadbeat.

"Stay here," he ordered Isono when they stopped at the curb. "I'll call if I need anything."

Isono nodded. "Understood, Seto-sama."

Jounouchi's little restaurant was located down a narrow side street, on the ground floor of a similarly narrow two-story building with a slatted wooden roof. The place was little more than a hole-in-the-wall, with only enough seating to serve maybe half a dozen people. Perfect for a one-man operation.

Kaiba didn't hesitate before ducking under the entrance curtain. Red and patterned, it was surprisingly traditional.

"Welcome!" rang through the small shop. The lone figure behind the counter dipped into a deep bow. His voice was immediately familiar to Kaiba, almost instantly transporting him back more than a decade.

The shop's proprietor, Jounouchi, straightened. Something jangled against his chest, a long necklace slipping out of his collar. Kaiba's blood pressure spiked before he realized they were dog tags hanging from it.

Not a ring on a chain.

Slowly, Kaiba uncurled his fists, one finger at a time.

Clearly, Jounouchi remembered him too. Of course he did. Kaiba's presence in Domino was not one that could be ignored. His face was frequently plastered on billboards and featured in local and national media. Yet Jounouchi gawked, nonetheless.

It was amusing to watch the myriad of emotions flashing across Jounouchi's face—the shock, the confusion, and finally the outrage. Satisfaction welled inside Kaiba.

"Get lost," barked Jounouchi once he recovered, reaching for a knife before thinking better of it.

Kaiba did not. He crossed the threshold and took a seat at the empty serving counter directly in front of Jounouchi.

Up close, he scrutinized the other man in return. Seeing Jounouchi in real life didn't compare to the covert surveillance shots. The dark bandana around his head kept his blond hair under control. Navy chef's jacket and a white apron; he at least dressed for the job. His face was the same, more or less, yet his jaw cut sharper, the underside of his eyes darker, and his brown eyes less mirthful.

There were faint remnants of his once youthful boyish charms, but he was undeniably older now.

As was Kaiba.

But some things never changed between them.

"Is that any way to greet your customers?" he drawled, a familiar smirk lifting the corner of his lips. It was almost comforting, like slipping into a well-worn sweater.

Jounouchi clenched his jaw, the muscles jumped visibly. "I'm doing the neighborhood a favor and running off the vermin."

Kaiba's gaze darted upward. As he saw from the surveillance photos, Jounouchi indeed boosted an eyebrow piercing, two red studs framing the top and bottom of his left brow. Combined with his pierced earlobes and the short ponytail, he hadn't made a clean break with his delinquent past.

But maybe Jounouchi's lady friends appreciated the vaguely thuggish look. Or his boyfriends, if this universe's Jounouchi had similar tastes as his counterpart.

Seto couldn't be sure. The dossier reported next to nothing about Jounouchi's romantic relationships beyond his current singlehood.

As he met Jounouchi's gaze, his smirk widened, displaying every tooth possible. "Funny, that's what I figured you served in a shitty establishment like this, grilled vermin."

To his surprise, and perhaps even disappointment, Jounouchi didn't rise to the bait. Instead, he calmly gestured to the wooden plaques hanging over him. "I'm sure a smart guy like you can read."

Kaiba scanned the offerings. He didn't frequent establishments like this, as he preferred Western cuisine. The menu boasted the usual assortment of grilled meats, seafood, and vegetables, along with some ready-to-serve appetizers. The rest was a limited alcohol menu. When his gaze darted back to Jounouchi, he folded his hands on the counter and said, "Chef's choice."

For a second, Jounouchi didn't move, barely twitched as he took a shallow breath. Then, his expression steeled itself in preparation to meet Kaiba's unspoken challenge, and he burst into a flurry of movement. For a moment, he disappeared behind another curtain divider and emerged on the other side of the counter with a tray.

"Your otoshi," Jounouchi grumbled when he set a trio of small plates, a sake cup, and pourer down in front of Kaiba. He leveled one last glare before returning behind the counter.

Kaiba tried not to snort. Picking up his chopsticks, he poked at one appetizer, strips of braised burdock root and carrots. It looked correct and smelled fine. The texture crunched as he sank his teeth in, while the flavor was both sweet and savory. Out of the corner of his eyes, he spotted Jounouchi pausing in his other preparations to watch him chew.

Kaiba swallowed without comment, and poured sake into the serving cup. Well aware of Jounouchi's lingering gaze, he threw it back in one gulp.

The sake was nothing special, nothing to write home about, but its crisp taste complemented the braised vegetables' flavor.

Their eyes locked as Kaiba lowered his cup. Jounouchi broke eye contact almost immediately, brows knitted as he concentrated on his knife and cutting board. He wielded the blade with confidence and ease, making straight cuts that sliced cleanly through a small horse mackerel. There was already other food cooking on the grill. Kaiba could smell it from across the counter that separated them.

If anyone walked in on them, an outsider might think they were nothing more than a cook and his sole customer. Despite the casual air Kaiba affected, he watched his every move. Jounouchi wasn't the sort to poison his food. Probably. Jounouchi didn't lower his guard, either, carrying his tension in shoulders and jaws despite his smooth and controlled movements.

The image of the other Jounouchi came to mind unbidden. Kaiba wondered what he did, if he even worked or if he mooched off the other Seto's good grace. It was hard to imagine Jounouchi, any Jounouchi, as a kept man, simply because he shouldn't have that sort of appeal. Compared to the other Jounouchi with his bright eyes and well-fitted clothes, the one native to his home dimension was rougher around the edges. Not just in how he kept his appearance, but also in his mannerisms. Like Kaiba, Jounouchi had also filled out since their teen years, namely in the chest and arms. The muscles in his forearms flexed as he worked his knife and grill.

After several long moments of silence, Kaiba couldn't hold his tongue any longer. "It figures this is the kind of cooking you took to—grilling meat on a stick. Positively caveman."

Jounouchi stiffened. He bristled, red creeping into his cheeks. He bit his tongue and said nothing, though. Instead, he plucked two skewers of seared meat and delicately placed them on a serving plate. He didn't touch the prawn and fish still on the grill.

Balanced on a wooden paddle, Jounouchi presented the dish to him across the counter. "Chicken hearts," he said gruffly.

Kaiba arched an eyebrow. Did Jounouchi mean to imply something by his choice of meat? But he took the plate with a neutral expression and, as much as he hated to admit it, the smell had him salivating.

He'd skipped lunch. It was the only reason the deadbeat's cooking seemed even remotely appetizing.

This time, Jounouchi made no effort to hide his staring, studying Kaiba as he ate.

Whatever Kaiba's usual culinary preferences, well-seasoned and well-cooked meat had universal appeal. The food settled heavy in his belly, warmed by sake. The otoshi and the alcohol had served their purpose, whetting his dormant appetite.

There was nothing to criticize. Not the flavor. Not the presentation. Not without lying outright or, worse, nitpicking. They both knew it, too.

Most infuriatingly, he wanted seconds.

Chair legs screeched as he stood. Without counting, he threw a handful of notes on the counter, easily three or four times what the modest meal was worth. Jounouchi made no moves to stop him, but his eyes drilled into Kaiba's back as he stalked out of the restaurant.

***

He should've thrown the files into the shredder the next day. He didn't look at them again, but their presence weighed upon him.

Later the same week, he ducked under the curtain to enter Jounouchi's robatayaki shop again. Two older diners, neighborhood retirees, were already seated at the far end of the counter, making friendly conversation with Jounouchi as he cooked for them. Jounouchi was nothing but smiles and laughs for them, beaming as if Yugi sat across from him.

Like leaden weight, the mirth dropped almost instantly from his face when he spun to greet Kaiba.

"Welcome," Jounouchi said flatly, drawing curious glances from his current customers.

Ignoring the pricking sensation, Kaiba sat at the opposite end of the counter. Jounouchi took his sweet time before suddenly appearing at his side and serving him a trio of compulsory appetizers and sake, like last time. To add insult to injury, he went straight back to his other diners without even trying to take Kaiba's order.

Frowning, Kaiba picked at the otoshi. Today's selection included chilled mung bean sprouts, kimchi, and potato salad, and the sake was warm. Same as last time, the food was palatable, probably even tasty to more pedestrian taste buds.

Every so often, a burst of laughter disturbed Kaiba, causing him to shoot daggers in Jounouchi's direction before he caught himself and forced his eyes back to his food. By the time the deadbeat acknowledged him again, Kaiba's sake had cooled entirely.

"Whaddaya want?" asked Jounouchi, voice flat and without mincing words.

They both knew he wasn't asking about what Kaiba wanted to eat. What did Kaiba want with Jounouchi? Why was he bothering him again?

Kaiba had no sane answer to give him.

To spite him, he ordered one of every item on the menu. His stomach churned unhappily at the prospect of so much food, but he refused to allow Jounouchi to intimidate him.

The chef boggled at him for a second before snapping out of it. "Your funeral," he said with a shrug before walking away.

Plate after plate, the food kept coming. By the third one, Kaiba felt ready to vomit. Instead, he left the food untouched as it piled up next to him, focusing on the alcohol instead. Time simultaneously rushed past in a torrent and crawled like molasses. It lost all meaning, reminding Kaiba of the limbo he crossed to and from Aaru. The only constant was Jounouchi, hovering right on the edge of his perceptions but otherwise refusing to engage with Kaiba more than strictly necessary.

Not unless Kaiba called to him, and he refused. People tripped over themselves to serve Kaiba, not the other way around.

Eventually, Isono came to investigate when he failed to respond to his texts. Slamming his palms down on the counter, Kaiba knocked over his chair when he shot to his feet and stormed out, leaving Isono to settle the bill.

He swore he'd never go back.

The same night, he dreamed of the heat blasting out of the charcoal grill, the dots of sweat running down Jounouchi's neck when he hunched over the fire, and large hands wrapped around the handle of gleaming knives skimming Kaiba's underbelly.

***

"Seriously, why are you here?" groaned Jounouchi. "Why are you haunting me like an evil spirit?"

Kaiba could ask the same of himself. Why did Jounouchi, first the other Seto's smooth-faced fiance with his soft hair and softer mouth, and now this rough but sure-handed Jounouchi occupy so much of Kaiba's thoughts?

Kaiba had lost count of how many times he'd been a patron of Jounouchi's restaurant. Their interactions may have thawed somewhat, but they were, by no means, friendly. At first Kaiba lingered after closing time for petty reasons, forcing Jounouchi to close and clean around him. Last time, Jounouchi plopped down next to him with a can of beer instead, complaining and insulting Kaiba the entire time. More sake bore Kaiba through the experience. Plus, it was nothing Kaiba hadn't heard before.

Tonight, Jounouchi had deflated. His face was almost haggard under the warm yellow light, nooks and crevices exaggerated by the shadows within them.

Kaiba felt as tired as Jounouchi looked. In the end, they were nothing more than two browbeaten men.

"Well?" Jounouchi demanded when Kaiba didn't respond. "Usually, you can't shut the fuck up, but now nothing? Not a damn peep?"

Kaiba hummed and sipped his sake. His tongue lapped the last drops from the cup. He licked his lips absently, noting how numb his tongue felt.

Jounouchi stared, his eyes as scorching hot as burning coal.

Kaiba did it again, and Jounouchi's eyes narrowed in anger? Suspicion?

Lifting his chin high, he smirked. It was always satisfying to needle the other man. "I don't have to explain myself to the likes of you. But it's certainly not for the pleasure of your sparkling company."

Jounouchi swore and lumbered to his feet. Kaiba watched, a passenger in his own body, as the other man stepped behind him and loomed over him, bracing the counter's edge to cage him in. "You're a shitty liar," he accused, so close Kaiba could smell the malt on his breath. "I dunno exactly why, but you're here because of me."

"You think too highly of yourself. You're a nobody."

Kaiba's head spun. Must be the sake he drank.

Jounouchi didn't back down. Kaiba wondered if tonight might end in a brawl. He could break Jounouchi's nose and give him a taste of the iron Kaiba found in the hearts and gizzards he served up. Jounouchi could turn his knife skills on a target capable of fighting back. And if they could walk away afterward, they could never see each other again.

Warm fingers nudged his chin, tilting his face up to allow Jounouchi to scrutinize him. Up close, his eyes resembled whisky, dark and honeyed. Blond fringes, dark pierced eyebrows, crooked nose, full mouth—when considered as a package, even Kaiba admitted it was not unappealing.

But Kaiba had better tastes in food and style. Better standards for people and the partners he kept in his life than Seto.

Jounouchi was fit enough to fuck, nothing more.

"Is this how you bewitched him?" he snarled, unable to stop himself from canting toward the other man.

Jounouchi blinked, then laughed, incredulously. "I can't believe it. There's no way we share an ex. There's no way that's why you started coming here outta nowhere. You're drunk, Kaiba. Call Isono so he can take you home."

He rolled back on the heels of his feet, preparing to draw away. To leave. To dismiss him.

Fueled by impulse—insanity, Kaiba spun in his seat, chasing him. His hands moved without his command, fingers closing around Jounouchi's chin in an iron grip and yanking him down to him. Their teeth knocked before their lips met. But Kaiba didn't release him, squeezing Jounouchi's jaw hard enough his own ached in sympathy.

A sharp inhale, and Kaiba instinctively tensed. This Jounouchi wouldn't hesitate to lay into him or perhaps gut him for an unwanted advance. But when he unfroze, he didn't shove Kaiba away, instead meeting him head on with surprising fervor. Kaiba hissed, both from the counter now digging into his back and the stinging nip of Jounouchi's bite.

The kiss he stole from the other Jounouchi remained fresh on his mind, as if it happened yesterday; mint-flavored, supple yet soft lips, and a hint of crisp aftershave, faded though it might've been.

Sweat and smoke clung to Jounouchi, and he tasted of beer. His lips were slightly chapped. Fingertips fluttered across Kaiba's cheeks, ears, hair, and neck, never settling on any spot for more than a second before soaring off. His hands were everywhere, roaming over Kaiba's body as if he was entitled to do so.

It made Kaiba light-headed. Good thing he was already sitting.

Heat. Spit. Teeth. The hint of copper on their busted lips and warring tongues. The unforgiving plains, peaks, and valleys of their bodies grinding against each other, like the catastrophic collision between tectonic plates, upending worlds and locking together for minutes that felt like hours and days.

They didn't so much kiss as fight to devour the other.

They broke apart, wild-eyed and chest heaving. They remained physically connected; Jounouchi's hands were now on his hips and Kaiba clasping his strong jawline, absently caressing the rough grain of his late-night stubble. Jounouchi licked his lips, and Kaiba mirrored him, causing the other man's eyes to darken further.

After a beat of hesitation, as if he was waiting for Kaiba to deny him, Jounouchi leaned in for another kiss. It was softer, reminding Kaiba of another mint-flavored one. But he kindled the embers of Kaiba's want as deftly as he fanned the flame in his cooking.

Something roiled deep in his gut, something familiar as he often felt it when he saw Jounouchi these days.

"I'm hungry," Kaiba muttered against the other man's warm mouth. "Why else would I bother coming here?"

They both knew he wasn't referring to food, though.

Jounouchi shivered. "Got it. Let's take this somewhere private."

***

They didn't need to go far. Jounouchi lived right above his humble shop, a fact Kaiba already knew from his background check. He didn't get to see much of it as they stumbled in the dark from one room to the next, hands clawing at each other and mouths biting one another. They fell in a similarly tangled heap into Jounouchi's futon, already spread open on the bedroom floor.

The slob must've never put it away after getting up in the morning.

But in this case, it was convenient. Kaiba didn't want this encounter to last longer than strictly necessary. So he was secretly glad when Jounouchi went down on him without asking. In the dark, he concentrated on the warmth and suction enveloping his cock. He could almost forget, forgive, it was Jounouchi Katsuya blowing him.

Jounouchi turned out to be quite talented at fellatio. Perhaps this was the reason the other Seto wanted to marry his Jounouchi.

A cackle bubbled in his throat; more madness. He swallowed it and slammed into Jounouchi's spasming throat, drawing a choked groan from the other man. The other sounds he made, the slurping and slobbering, were disgusting, but they made Kaiba even harder. They drove him to the brink of madness and back again.

Want, lust, want—they pounded on the back of his skull and throbbed in the base of his spine.

Grabbing hold of Jounouchi's ponytail, he yanked him off his cock. The hair tie came loose, spilling soft strands over Kaiba's fingers. He wove his digits through them and pulled again. Jounouchi moaned, low and wanting, going limp in his grip.

"Degenerate," Kaiba growled while his heart raced in his ears. "Do you want me to fuck you, Jounouchi?"

He felt, rather than saw, Jounouchi nod.

This was a mistake.

The words blared repeatedly in his brain like klaxons, but he ignored them. Just as he ignored his better sense protesting the lack of condoms and Jounouchi's pained grimace as he pushed into his achingly tight hole for the first time. Kaiba was clean, and if Jounouchi dared to give him anything other than an orgasm, he'd destroy him.

"Kaiba, move!" groaned Jounouchi, writhing under him. "C'mon, I ain't gonna break!"

Gritting his teeth, Kaiba shut out the rest of his thoughts and focused on the only thing that mattered at this moment: fucking Jounouchi. There was little tenderness to their coupling, though. No honeyed words or promises exchanged as he imagined their other selves might, their limbs twined together and sharing the same breath.

The pleasure was still real. It was enough. He lost himself in the other man's heat and tightness, gorging himself on his wanton moans and the flavor of his lips and tongue.

Soon, it was over, a flash in the pan, with semen cooling between their clammy stomachs and leaking from Jounouchi's ass when he pulled out.

He sucked in a breath through clenched teeth, held it—dreading the change in the world; in himself to come—and released it before he dared to look down.

A diagonal slash of moonlight illuminated Jounouchi's eyelashes, his crooked nose, and his kiss-bruised lips. His eyes were squeezed firmly shut, peaceful if not for the furrow between his brow. As Kaiba counted the rise and fall of Jounouchi's shoulders while he caught his breath, however, nothing stirred within him—no newfound affection blossoming within his ribcage, no epiphany on how any version of himself could care about this man enough to want to marry him. No hate or disgust, none of the previous passion and hunger either.

Everything evaporated. The air between them hung stale and still, reeking of old cigarette smoke and poor decisions.

Instead, the hollowness in his chest was vacuous, and a bone-deep fatigue flooded the empty cavern.

Stupid, idiotic, he scolded himself.

Why would sex with Jounouchi change anything?

Rolling away, Kaiba grabbed the nearby discarded cover and cleaned himself wordlessly. It'd have to do until he got home. He didn't look at Jounouchi while he tucked himself away and fixed his appearance, even if he was within arm's reach.

The floor creaked as he stood, and he bit his tongue to keep from swearing. But Jounouchi didn't shift—never spoke to stop him as he beat a hasty retreat to the exit.

Pausing at the threshold, he glanced backward at the shadowed lump of the half-naked Jounouchi curled on the futon, with his back facing the door. They both knew he was still awake. But what was there left to say to each other? Nothing of consequence. Nothing which changed who they were and weren't to one another, two strangers who were barely acquaintances, hardly lovers. Kaiba showed himself out without a word of goodbye, only a faint snick as the door swung closed behind him.

---

Notes: An otoshi is a "compulsory" appetizer, which mainly means it's not free like you would see in some Western restaurants where they serve you bread and butter or even banchan in Korean meals. They are usually smaller dishes prepared ahead of service, like edamame or kimchi. Customers are billed for the otoshi. It is treated almost like a cover charge to ensure the customer doesn't occupy a seat for a long time after ordering one drink. Jounouchi gave it to Kaiba on purpose, so he's obligated to pay for something even if he doesn't order any food.

While this is basically a second chapter, I wonder if I should publish it on AO3 as a second chapter or as a separate fic. But maybe Meeting upon the threshold is better off without being attached to this sense of non-resolution? I'm curious to hear people's thoughts! <3

#fic: Meeting upon the threshold #yugioh #puppyshipping #violetshipping #kaijou #my fanfiction #replies #anonymous #writing prompts #pray the other ones don't turn out this long #but also don't be surprised if i keep futzing with this and fleshing it a bit more before it's posted to AO3 #but i needed to get something out just so this would stop eating my brain and i could work on other things

51 notes · View notes

nicollekidman · 4 years ago

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hi abby love your work! my one thing that's confusing me re: a possible dean reciprocation is the script itself? reading it to me really just felt like they had to shoehorn in a compromise between what the fans wanted and what jensen didn't want (ending up with like "he's sad but he can't reciprocate because he's Straight which is still fine b/c cas self-actualized") idk what jensen's been up to the last few years but that seems to track with what i remember from my time being super into spn??

love my work skdfjhgj thanks! okay so like. this is really complicated and obviously involves an equal amount of conjecture from my side and it got stupid long so i’m hiding it!!! yikes!!

but the “jensen hates deancas and is disgusted by gay fans” thing is sooo skdjfh like. okay. NOT where he is right now based on like. the last five years of conventions and interviews but mostly based on stuff he said like 7/8 years ago right when destiel was picking up steam. a hyper-masculine man dealing with girls coming up to him and asking him to sign fanfic and essays and various things saying things about dean that he hadn’t considered before bc he thought he was playing a macho cowboy might do some really shitty stuff and i’m NOT saying people haven’t deal with crap from him before. but he’s been playing this for 10 years. people actually can wake the fuck up and change their behavior and i definitely think jensen is a case of this. like he IS my homophobic texas king but i don’t think he’s in that same space anymore, although he does deserve flack for that obviously. like as a person??? he’s not the same anymore and can i say thank fuck. wife. <3 supernatural is riddled with homophobia and i’m not an idiot i would never say otherwise but jensen himself? has figured shit out.

as for the script and how DEAN feels in canon...... scripts aren’t fanfic. they don’t have space for long exposition especially when actors are very deep into their characters and know how they would react. again i’ll just say. it doesn’t say dean DOESN’T reciprocate, it says he CAN’T. we can just as much say “dean is unable to articulate a response in the moment because he has just been bombarded with so much devastating information in such a short amount of time he’s basically not functioning right now” as we can say “he's sad but he can't reciprocate because he's Straight which is still fine b/c cas self-actualized”.

like i would argue that everything CONTEXTUALLY happening around the both of them just in this final season and scene itself gives us confirmation that dean DOES feel the same way. he says “why does this sound like a goodbye” “don’t do this cas” not in a “don’t be gross and say you love me” way he’s saying WHY ARE YOU TAKING YOURSELF AWAY FROM ME. he understands as cas is talking that he is purposefully saying goodbye and going away!!!! and when has dean winchester ever in a decade been able to look cas in the face and SAY with his WORDS “don’t go”. we’ve seen this exact scenario again and again and again and in fact it’s the only place logically for his narrative to go. amara said she thought bringing mary back would help dean let go of his anger, but it didn’t. dean said he didn’t know what was real and true about his life, and less than 24 hours before this scene he pulled a GUN on his BROTHER because he didn’t see another way to be free of the maze. a few weeks ago he was sobbing on his hands and knees in the forest telling cas that he didn’t understand where his anger was coming from and that he should’ve asked cas to stay.

dean CAN’T reciprocate here because the reciprocation is going to be the culmination of his character arc in the show. the circumstances of cas’s confession were about cas, they were set up so cas could have his moment. but they’re all of dean’s worst fears realized. he’s powerless while his best friend in the world is sacrificing himself for him AGAIN! and dean can’t do anything! he’s hearing castiel say “i know you don’t feel the same way about me and that’s fine i know we can never be together but you are so loving and selfless and everything good you see in me comes from YOU and i won’t be here with you anymore but it’s enough just to say it” and dean is staring there. dealing with a) the fact that castiel has never been truly happy before this moment b) dean has never once been able to save castiel or stop him from going c) cas is utterly convinced beyond everything that dean doesn’t feel the same way and d) the second cas stops talking he’s going to willingly leave dean forever. dean. who just hours ago was ready to DUST GOD HIMSELF for taking control of dean’s life away from him. so no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! he can’t reciprocate!!!!!!!!!! but there are two whole episodes left and dean has been struggling for seasons to properly articulate everything that cas just said about him, that he feels things more deeply than any human he’s ever met, that he cares more and loves more than anyone. we know that about dean but dean has never believed it about himself enough to say anything. AND ONCE AGAIN.... CAS CUT HIM OFF. dean’s last word to cas was his own name, and cas cut him off, just like he did in purgatory when dean said “there’s something i have to tell you”. the script leaves complete negative space where dean’s side of the conversation should be and that’s not because jensen is homophobic or dean is disgusted by cas it’s that dean’s entire arc is about building up the courage to HAVE his side of the conversation. so let’s. revisit this in a week or two shall we?

#spn #Anonymous #this is an insane post and i recognize that but yeet #anyways we bEEN knew that spn is riddled with like #all the structural problems you could think of but this isnt going the direction everyone is assuming and the backlash against jensen is #SO funny

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vrishchikawrites · 4 years ago

Note

Are you still taking prompts?

Cause if so, I'd love to see a time travel fic where post-canon WWX and LWJ get yeeted back into their younger bodies, and land just before the GC transfer. And Post-Canon WWX - who's had some years of being a part of a loving, supportive family, in a non-toxic, non-abusive environment; and therefore no longer has any misconceptions about how much the Jiangs were not his family - takes one look at JC lying there on the table in the cave after WQ knocked him out (and is now in the middle of prepping for surgery); and just goes, "LOL, yeah; nope.😆 Been there, done that; 10/10, would not recommend.😝 Hey, WQ - change of plans!😎"

(Except, you know, not written like crack. 😉)

Not necessary to include, but a fun idea:

JC gets dragged along to the past as well because he has WWX's GC; so whatever sent them back mistook him for part of WWX and brought him along.

So when he wakes up from the anaesthesia, he freaks out about not having a GC anymore. And WWX has this whole story ready to tell young JC about how, "Oops, sorry; you can't have a new GC after all" - but this is Post-Canon JC; so he knows about the transfer, and knows that this means that WWX decided not to do it again.

Which means he ends up screaming at WWX about, "How dare you not give me your GC!"

So WWX feels exactly zero sympathy.

(Before that happened he was maybe feeling a little bit bad for young JC; because that JC hadn't done anything too bad yet - but he already knew how it would turn out if he went through with it. And he was not giving up his chance to cultivate to immortality with his hubby; just so that JC could Feel Like A Real Man, and go on to murder his way through life again.)

What would be really, really great about this, is if WWX had brought JC to Qinghe or Gusu; or somewhere the other cultivation sects involved in the SSC had gathered, before JC woke up. Planning to leave him there where he would be safe. So when JC wakes up and starts screaming, everybody hears him.

And they're all like, "...WUT."🤤

"You expected him to do what?!?"😲😨😱

So instead of all the sympathy and compassion, etc, that he would have gotten over what happened at LP (that he probably did get the first time), or for losing his GC; basically the entire allied cultivation world as a whole is collectively side-eyeing him.

IDK; I just think it would be really funny.

But mainly, I just want to see WWX a few years post-canon; having the chance to do it all again, and choosing not to go through with the GC transfer. LWJ going with him is because the thought of post-canon LWJ losing his WWX makes me sad; and I want them to stay together. 😋

Post-Canon JC going back and getting stuck with the coreless body he deserved is just for my own catharsis.

(The rest of that idea is simply for the lulz.) 😉

(I decided not to include JC traveling back in time. Hope this works and satisfies you!)

“No, I don’t.” Wei Wuxian sees Wen Qing blink and stare at him while Wen Ning stills in the process of making Jiang Cheng comfortable.

“What?” Wen Qing asks but rethinks it immediately, “No, no need to answer that.” She starts packing away her instruments immediately like she’s glad that Wei Wuxian has changed his mind. He looks at her and feels aching fondness rise in his chest. She must be frustrated that he made her go through all of that trouble and yet she still chooses to move before he can change his mind again.

“What… are we going to tell Jiang-gongzi?” Wen Ning asks tentatively but Wei Wuxian notes the faint look of relief in the boy’s eyes.

“We’ll tell him the treatment wasn't possible,” He says, glancing at his… former shidi. It isn’t an easy decision to make, because he knows Jiang Cheng would suffer for it. A part of him feels like he’s being unnecessarily cruel by denying Jiang Cheng his core.

But he has already paid his debt and it cost countless people their lives. Jiang Cheng’s actions didn’t just lead to the death of the Wens. Lan Zhan had told him about the numerous ‘demonic cultivators’ Jiang Cheng had pursued relentlessly. Even his love wasn’t certain how many people died or were tormented to insanity because of Jiang Cheng’s persistence.

While Wei Wuxian doesn’t intend to let the situation get so out of hand, it is apparent that Jiang Cheng can’t be trusted with power.

He is worried about how Jiang Cheng would react. Wei Wuxian had promised him a core, after all. But whatever happens, a powerless Jiang Cheng is safer for everyone.

“We’ll tell him that rebuilding the core is impossible because Wen Zhuliu destroyed his meridians as well.”

“He has,” Wen Qing points out, “I was about to repair them.”

Wei Wuxian frowns, “And can you repair them still? Without transferring the core?” That would certainly help Jiang Cheng heal faster and accept some spiritual energy transfusions. Wen Qing looks at Jiang Cheng with a frown and nods.

“Wei-gongzi… what changed your mind?” Wen Ning asks as Wen Qing goes to work immediately. Wei Wuxian knows that if he has to help the Wens, he needs to tell them the truth. While Wen Ning would trust him and accept his explanation without too many questions, Wen Qing wouldn’t be so easy.

Wei Wuxian takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, getting his thoughts in order. When he opens them again, both of the Wens are looking at him with frowns.

He grins wryly and spreads his hands, "I have a tale for you, my dear friends."

Jin Guangyao needed to have his last 'hurrah'. He just couldn't leave them be, even as he died. Whatever he did, whatever tool he used, it sent a shockwave of Resentful Energy that would've killed them all.

As always, Wei Wuxian stepped forward to protect people. As always, Lan Wangji stepped forward to protect him.

Wei Wuxian gritted his teeth and changed his plan at the last moment. At first, he wanted to absorb the energy and channel it somewhere else. But with so many people just lingering instead of running, he needed a different solution.

His mind flashed, he saw Jiang Cheng, and decided.

A forbidden array formed.

"I needed something that would use up all of the Resentful Energy and protect everyone, including Lan Zhan."

"So, at the last moment and on the verge of dying, you chose something as improbable as time travel." Wen Qing deadpans. Wen Ning is looking at him with wide eyes. Strangely enough, both look like they believe him. Well, he did mention a few things, personal incidents, that he had no way of knowing if the Wens hadn't told him.

Still.

"I'm not the one for regrets," He says softly as he looks at Jiang Cheng, "But I thought that array was the safest solution. It doesn't harm the current timeline so everyone is safe. Lan Zhan, I know, wouldn't mind following my lead in this." He did regret taking Zewu-jun's brother away from him after such a traumatic event but there really was no other option. Not with Jin Ling so close and so many innocent people in the vicinity.

Wei Wuxian is quite certain that the blast would've destroyed everything around them, including the innocent people around the Guanyin Temple complex.

The siblings exchange glances before Wen Qing returns to Jiang Cheng's side, preparing to work on his meridians, "You're going to change things." She observes, "Save people?"

"Save you and Wen Ning. Save Jiang Yanli. Save innocents, yes."

Wen Qing freezes.

---

Lan Wangji doesn't know what Wei Ying did but he trusts his beloved. When he finds himself in the past, just before the Sunshot Campaign begins and shortly after the fall of the Lotus Pier, he doesn't hesitate.

He knows that his brother is safe and his uncle is managing things at Cloud Recesses. But he also knows that somewhere out there, his beloved is preparing himself for a risky, painful procedure.

Wangji can't let that happen. He thinks back on everything Wen Ning shared with him about the incident, particularly the location of where it occurred. He's probably too late to stop the transfer but perhaps not late enough to stop the Wens from finding Wei Ying.

It takes him days to reach Yiling without the aid of Bichen but he manages and immediately heads towards the approximate location Wen Ning had mentioned.

"Wei Ying," He breathes softly when he spots his beloved shopping for some supplies. He hadn't anticipated finding him so soon but is grateful nonetheless.

Wei Ying is dressed like a peasant and blends in well with the people around him but Wangji can recognize him anywhere.

Dressed discreetly and without his forehead ribbon, Wangji too is inconspicuous. He moves swiftly towards Wei Ying and catches his elbow, eyeing the people in red and white uniform at the far end of the street warily.

"Come." He whispers.

Wei Ying doesn't say a word, just paying the vendor and following Wangji into a more discreet location.

Wangji looks at his beloved's face, drinking in his bright silver eyes and sharp features with acute relief.

"Wei Ying, you… you look well." Strangely so, for someone who has just given up his Golden Core.

Hope stirs in his chest and Wangji reaches for Wei Ying's wrist.

His love's lips quirk in amusement, but Wangji ignores him, focusing on sending his spiritual energy through Wei Ying's meridians.

A strong core pulses in response.

"Wei Ying," Something bright and triumphant burns in his chest and he resists the urge to pull his beloved into a crushing embrace.

He would've supported Wei Ying's decision to give up his core and cultivate with resentful energy again. He knew it wasn't evil or harmful now.

But Wei Ying chose himself. His beloved had finally chosen to save himself.

"Aiya, Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying laughs, "If you keep looking at me like that, I'll do something quite shameless and embarra-"

Wangji kisses him.

He cups that precious face, pulls him close, and slides his lips over soft flesh in a tender expression of love he can't contain.

Wei Ying chose himself.

---

Jiang Cheng returns from his trip to the mountain with a thunderous expression on his face.

He disregards Lan Zhan and grabs Wei Wuxian's arm in a tough grip, dragging him away from the crowded tea house. Lan Zhan follows without a word, his expression frosty and eyes on Jiang Cheng.

"Your Grandmaster," He spits, "Is just as useless and worthless as you. All she could do is repair my meridians! My body was too damaged for anything else, she said!"

Wei Wuxian knows Wen Qing wrote the note they left by Jiang Cheng's side but he hadn't known what she had written.

It must've been reasonably convincing for Jiang Cheng to be convinced.

"That's-" He searches his mind to find words that would be appropriately sympathetic. Saying 'that's too bad' would be just rubbing salt on an open wound.

He may dislike Jiang Cheng, but some of the childhood affection still lingers. He doesn't wish to hurt his former shidi.

"I didn't know," He says finally, his heart throbbing in sympathy at Jiang Cheng's devastated expression. He briefly reconsiders his decision but Lan Zhan shifts discreetly by his side and Wei Wuxian remembers why he made that decision in the first place.

Jiang Cheng had been unworthy of the gift he had been given.

His shidi snarls and turns to Lan Zhan, "What are you doing here, Lan er-gonzi," He snarls, "Coming to triumph in our misery?"

Lan Zhan looks at him flatly, "I came to assist Wei Ying."

"Came to assist Wei Ying," Jiang Cheng mocks, his expression tight and furious, "Well, you're welcome to take him away! There's nothing left for him to destroy. Everything is gone. He invited the wrath of the Wens on our heads to protect you and that led to the destruction of my sect. He couldn't even repay that debt. His Grandmaster failed."

Jiang Cheng turns hate-filled eyes towards him, "You are a curse. My father should have left you to rot on the streets!"

"Jiang Wanyin!" Lan Zhan warns but Wei Wuxian places a hand on the Second Jade's arm to halt him.

"I'm taking you to Meishan to be with shijie." Wei Wuxian says calmly, "And then I'll go join the war efforts."

Jiang Cheng sneers before turning his head away, silent.

Wei Wuxian does as he says. He leaves Jiang Cheng in Jiang Yanli's care and heads to Qinghe with Lan Zhan. The war goes differently than before. He manages to kill Wen Zhuliu and Wen Chao early, which gives them a big morale boost. But that's the only thing that goes their way for a long time.

"I'm going to use it," He tells Lan Zhan once, when the scales tip dangerously in the Wen's favor.

Lan Zhan studies him before nodding gracefully, "I will help."

There's no way to avoid using his cultivation method, not if he wants to keep people safe. He's more careful and restrained this time and he doesn't create the Yīn Hǔ Fú. But Mo Dao is Mo Dao. It attracts disapproval from people regardless.

Wei Wuxian doesn't care and Lan Zhan stays by his side without paying any heed to the grumblings of his clan. He goes to sleep every night with Lan Zhan's guqin notes in his ear and meditates every morning with the Cleansing purging the Resentful Energy from his body.

With a powerful and active Golden Core, Wei Wuxian can't use Mo Dao liberally without risking Qi Deviation. But he uses enough to help them win the war.

Wei Wuxian successfully retakes Lotus Pier and Yunmeng from the Wens. Jiang Cheng's hatred doesn't diminish and even Jiang Yanli grows distant after a while. Jiang Cheng's suffering and downfall hardens something in his soft shijie.

Wei Wuxian accepts that consequence quietly.

He hands Lotus Pier back to Jiang Cheng and stays on the front lines, leaving most of the freshly recruited disciples behind to protect his former martial siblings. When the war ends, argues to keep the Wen cultivators in better conditions. He makes sure everyone knows how much the Jiangs owe the Wen siblings, and saves the children and elderly.

With Jiang Cheng out of the Cultivation World and Wei Wuxian's reputation as a war hero, saving the Wen remnants is easier than it had been before.

---

Everyone is baffled when Jiang Wanyin names a new head disciple and Wei Wuxian never returns to Yunmeng. People gossip, sect leaders question, and new Jiang disciple flounder.

Neither Jiang Wanyin nor Wei Wuxian confirms it but it is clear to everyone that the Jiang Sect has, foolishly, kicked out its most powerful disciple. YunmengJiang remains wealthy but the Sect's influence diminishes significantly once Wei Wuxian leaves.

Other Sects, big and small, scramble to find Wei Wuxian, ready to offer him a place and get a powerful cultivator in their ranks. Letters pour in promising wealth and prestige.

Wei Wuxian ignores them all and settles in Cloud Recesses. He's content to teach a group of eye-wide Lan ducklings now to deal with resentful energy and limit the risk of Qi Deviation. He takes them on Nighthunts, teaches them real-life lessons, encourages creativity, and becomes a well-loved senior.

New YunmengJiang disciples aren't near as strong as their predecessors without someone to teach them properly.

People gossip and speculate as the years pass. They hint that he is wrong to leave his former sect behind but he doesn't care.

Wei Wuxian has Lan Zhan and Lan Sizhui. Wen Qing and Wen Ning live happily in a small farming village not far from Gusu. They intervene before Jin Guangyao kills Nie Mingjue. They save Lan Xichen from heartache. Jin Ling is born and has both of his parents.

That's all he needs to be happy.

YunmengJiang is no longer his responsibility.

#short prompts #time travel au #wei wuxian #lan wangji #no golden core transfer #anti jiang cheng

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finaledenialist · 4 years ago

Note

so in one of your asks you said you dont think cas was in love with dean since the beginning and idk its interesting to me because everyone seem to think he was from the start so what is your take on that? idk im just curious haha

ohhh I wanted to make a post about this so thanks for asking!

disclaimer: I don’t want to rain on anyone’s parade I just have a different take on this whole thing!!!

So. I see people are like: OMG he was in love ALL THIS TIME SINCE 4x01 and I am like: no.

Was he lost since he laid his hand on Dean in hell? Yes. Was he instantly in love? Nah.

See, Cas in season 4 and 5 is starting to feel. He is conflicted, he is questioning, he doesn’t have ‘people skills’, he is confused by what he feels, he knows there is a ‘profound bond’ between him and Dean and he is rebelling for Dean, because Dean has a point and Cas feels Dean is right and apocalypse and destruction are wrong, and this human is so human and he never had that connection before. Add the sexual innuendos, the eye fucking and the tension between those two and this is what i call ‘classic destiel’. I do have a strong feeling this is partly Jensen’s and Misha’s fault though haha but I am also convinced that the jokes like ‘Cas, get out of my ass!’/’Blow me Cas’ are purely for ‘comedic purposes’ because haha gay so funny (keep in mind it’s still 2008/2009 and things were so different then BUT we still got Endverse which had not only sexual stuff implied but romantic as well - ‘all we have left, Dean and I, is each other, if Dean says it’s time to go in a blaze of glory, so be it’ (I am writing this from memory so these might not have been exact lines but you know what I am talking about).

And then in season 6 and 7 is where things start to get romantic. ‘I watched you rake leaves’, Dean’s blind faith that no, Cas can’t be working with Crowley behind their backs because come on it’s Cas and the whole 6x20 episode is *chief’s kiss* and then season 7 and Cas dies to make things right and Dean keeps his trenchcoat and moves it from every car they have been using that season to always have it with him because part of me always believed you’d come back. OK, but I was meant to be talking mostly about Cas’ point of view. Which takes me back to 7x23 and I’d rather have you, cursed or not. I think these words had a major impact on Cas. Something just clicked. Because he realized that he could say these exact same words to Dean and they still would be true.

And then we got season 8 which was a major shift and it really moved stuff from ‘sexual tension’ to ‘romantic tension’ and it’s still called ‘season fanfiction’ because I wanted to keep them away from you in purgatory and Cas generally not feeling worthy of anything but I think this is when he started to realize that what he feels is not like ‘brotherly friendship’ but something much deeper but he had his issues (I don’t deserve to be saved from purgatory thing) so he kind of kept it buried. But this was when the Real Love really started. But did he admit it to himself? Well I am not in Cas’ head but something must have been on his mind - Naomi had access too his mind and she immediately recognized that there is a certain Feeling that is dangerous and Cas needs to be fucking lobotomized (I still have shivers thinking about it). Did Naomi knew it was love? Idk, but she felt something was going on - that is why she tried to mess things up between Dean and Cas (I only wish he felt the same way ouch my heart....) and Metatron also recognized it, quicker and better (maybe because he spent much more time on earth and was generally a little more powerful and knowing as the scribe of God) and he immediately used Cas’ grace to banish angels from heaven because Cas was feeling love for a human. But did he, himself recognized it as love? Did he admit it to himself? I still have a feeling that no. I still think that his ‘I don’t know’ after Dean’s ‘What broke the connection?’ was honest.

Now let me fast forward to season 12, because this post is getting too long already and while seasons 9-11 had some good episodes and even good destiel scenes I feel this was the time many people - rightly so - were starting to lose faith in canon destiel, starting with Dean not letting Cas stay in the bunker in season 9 and bros acting like they only call Cas when they need him. I repeat - there were still some good episodes, even great ones. And we were shown Cas worried about Dean and being there for him anytime Dean called, there was so much pining but once again let me raise The Question: did Cas know what he was feeling was love? Or was he still confused, not letting himself believe, not being able to name his own feelings and emotions? And this is merely my opinion but this is also time where many people started to be bitter and negative by how writers treated Cas (and other characters in general but I am not gonna dive into that dumpster now, especially the Cas-having-sex-with-a-reaper thing which was awful, but in retrospect is even more awful because if it was Chuck’s writing this seems like some kind of sick attempt to do a conversion therapy and I want to throw up; plus he thought? he was into his boss at gas’n’sip and he thought she was into him and what even was it if not a. bad writing; b. Cas being confused; c. Cas being confused about this bad writing).

So season 12. First of all 12x12, when Cas thought he is gonna die and the infamous line ‘I love you. I love all of you’ happened. I am 100% sure this is when Cas realized. This must have prompted questions for him. Why did I say what I said? He blurted those words out but why like that? Aaaand after some thinking I think he realized why. He must’ve been like ‘oooops’. But then Jack was about to be born and he had to protect Kelly and then he died.

And then he is in the Empty who says - I know who you love, I know what you fear, there is nothing for you out there. She doesn’t know shit, she just has access to Cas’ mind and apparently those were his thoughts, already at that time, he thought there was nothing for him out there (again, his depression issues) BUT THEN CAS, MY SWEET CAS, THIS BAD ASS MOTHERFUCKER says fuck you Empty in one of his best monologues (before 15x18 I’d say it was his best but here we are) and she yeets him out, because HE decided HE is already saved and he doesn’t need a permission and you can preen and you can scream and yell and remind me of my failings but somehow, I'm awake. And I will stay awake and I will keep you awake until we both go insane. I will fight you. Fight you and fight you for... ever. For eternity.

And then Jack dies and he takes the humiliating deal. And now we’re at 15x18 and he says: ‘I have always wondered.... ever since I took that burden.... What my true happiness can even look like... Because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t have’. SEE THESE WORDS HERE ARE WHY I CAN’T SLEEP AT NIGHT. BECAUSE THEY IMPLY at least to me THAT:

1. He was aware of his feelings, he knew what he felt was love at the time he took the deal. and after that he was like ‘I guess I am immortal now’ because the one thing I want is the one thing I can’t have so nothing else is going to make him truly happy; this also implies that there is only one thing he truly wants and the rest is just not that important, whatever else happens won’t make him happy which is heartbreaking;

2. He knew what he wanted, so this means that at some point he wondered, he imagined, he took his time to picture the ‘thing’ he wanted. Which is life with Dean. Because he is in love. LIKE HE THOUGHT ABOUT THIS, HE REALLY DID AND HE CONCLUDED THAT THIS IS OUT OF HIS REACH (now people argue if that is because he thinks it’s unrequited or because he thinks that something something hunter life-fighting all the time-no attachments lifestyle won’t allow them to have this sort of life - and frankly, knowing that he learned everything, or almost everything about emotions from Dean, who isn’t really good at them, I am not surprised if he is sure that this feeling is one-sided, because maybe he conquered his fears in the Empty the first time around but taking the deal must have made him anxious and Chuck still calls him self-hating so he probably thinks this is one-sided and he is unworthy of love anyway);

3. He tried to imagine different scenarios that would make him happy but eventually it all came down to That One True Scenario, out of his reach, that couldn’t compare with anything else, and he tells Jack - you know about that deal, it’s ok, I don’t see myself becoming happy anytime soon AND IT HURTSSS

so to conclude and tl;dr - I think Cas realized that what he was feeling was love after 12x12 although he felt it before but might have been confused by it. I do not think he was ~in love~ since 4x01. There was tension and there was pining but no. This feeling evolved, it didn’t *just* happen in the barn.

also i am so sorry this took so long but i have thoughts and feelings and can’t form a coherent sentence since november 5th anyway thanks for asking nonny, ily!!!!

#ask #asks #anon #long post #destiel is endgame #cas is in love #everything is beautiful but it hurts #spn 15x18 #spn spec #spn speculation #Anonymous

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akurathereaper · 4 years ago

Text

So my brain went insane after I saw this post on “Coming back wrong” and my brain started working as it does (mentions of dying and ressurrection below)

spoilers for Path of Fire and Raid Wing 5 below

I’ll be brief

Or try to at least...

Anyway, when you die in the Departing and get yeeted into Grenth’s realm, I’ve decided to say “No.” and decided to yeet Akura somewhere else. I mean, he still does get yeeted into Grenth’s realm, but not exactly where he was supposed to go. Call it plot shenanigans, or just pure luck, he lands

in the Hall of Chains.

Where Daddy Grenth is currently sitting on his throne being all smuggy buggy.

Anyway, Akura has no freaking clue what happened (brain dealing with being killed + the shock of being suddenly blasted from a very hot place into a frozen castle wasteland), and after being almost torn apart by other confused souls who recognized he shouldn’t be here, he gets found by Desmina.

Or her spirit, anyway, as she’s been separated from her body, something or other, raid story stuff.

Anyway I know it’s 10-man content but I can do whatever I want and I say Akura with Desmina’s soul’s blessings managed to return her back to her vessel. Rest of the wing happens, until they get to Daddy Dhuum.

They manage to “seal” him, but I’ve seen the hint fo Desmina wanting to take over the Underworld, to be the only one overseeing it. The one in power. So she makes the decision (Honestly she was planning it ever since Akura showed up, cuz she felt he was at least a suitable vessel for now) and without Akura’s knowledge, merges Dhuum with him.

Now to the juicy stuff.

In game your guild found you a few moments before you ressed yourself, but I’m gonna prolong their suffering a bit, just a bit. They find Akura’s body, beaten, torn, dead. A very gruesome sight, and it shakes every member of Dragon’s watch.

What do they do now? What do they do without the Commander? Who was going to be strong enough to stand against Balthazar?

Taimi is crying, Kas and Jory are crying, Rytlock is shedding manly tears and growling about how pathetic they all are, everyone else is agreeing. It’s been hours now, and they’re still in shock. The desert heat is getting to them, and they want to move Akura’s body so they can... figure out what to do next.

If there is even anything they can do.

As they approach him, there is something they notice. Hoarfrost and rime has started covering Akura’s body, spreading around at faster and faster speeds. A cold as death fog appears around them, covering the entire rock formation they stand on. Something is wrong, something is deeply, deeply wrong. They shout for each other to not move, so nobody plummets off the cliff. They do not need more deaths.

The fog intensifies and the frost covering the rock spreads even more, covering the area. The Sun’s beams cannot pierce through.

Blue light with no source appears, shifting to green, bright, blinding them all, and a sharp sting of ancient magic can be felt everywhere. Someone’s nose starts bleeding.

A thud.

And then as if someone snapped a finger, the fog was gone. The frost stayed, cooling everyone’s feet as the Sun regained its strength over the air’s temperature.

The body they wanted to move, their Commander, dead, unmoving, was laying there, still. A black outline of his body was seered into the rock.

And then his body shook. He took a breath, gasping for it, deep, needy, painfully, his body reminding him he was dead just a few seconds ago. Akura coughs, and rolls on his knees and hands. He’s shaking, coughing, scraping his fingers on the rock feeling the texture and coldness.

It felt strange having a tangible body again. To need to breathe again.

Dragon’s watch are standing, still, afraid. Was this an illusion? A cruel prank by someone skilled in mesmer magic? One or two pair of eyes turn to Kas, but she looks as if she just saw a ghost. Or a ressurrected dead person, rising back to life.

They considering raising their arms. This could be a trap, after all.

But then Akura looks up at them, his features ragged and exhausted, but there is something... different with him. Something was wrong.

Maybe it was the way his eyes reflected the light, or the way his bark seemed to glow from the inside, not unlike a sylvari’s normal glow, but this seemed... alive. Conscious. It retreated back inside his body, hiding away from the world. There was something wrong. Something wrong with how his muscles shifted, how his magic shifted slightly, making space for something else.

And for a moment, an outline of something else, something gigantic, shimmered above him, before it was gone in a blink of an eye.

Nobody ever mentioned it to Akura after this.

#well I wasn't brief lol #short writing #enjoy #Akura Demonleaf #I fINALLY figured it out #FINALLY I figured it out how I'll do this #thank you og poster of the coming back wrong post #they gave me the best idea

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renaerys · 4 years ago

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PPG One-Shot: Six Degrees Chiller (Brick/Blossom)

A new cute one-shot in honor of @carriedreamerx birthday! In the same high school AU as part 1, part 2, and part 3, but can totally stand-alone. Also posted on my AO3. Tune in for some laughs and some Reds cuteness!

Summary: Brick goes deodorant shopping. It doesn't end well. (Or does it??)

xxx

Brick squinted at the nine-foot shelf packed with a full color wheel of deodorants and antiperspirants. The sheer surfeit of brands and scents was as daunting to behold as it was absolutely batshit insane—how many ways did people need to not smell like a dirty gym sock?

He picked a random stick and scowled at the label as if it had offended him and all his future progeny. Who the fuck would want to smell like mango lassi?

The squeak of a shopping cart rolling down the aisle sent Brick into a febrile panic for a hot second, and he shoved the saccharine deodorant stick back onto the shelf. A geriatric woman with a hunched back, a bright head scarf, and eyes so folded over with wrinkles it was a miracle she could see anything at all wheeled her cart slowly past Brick, who froze where he stood. She smiled politely at him, and he nodded out of sheer self-preservation instinct. The moment she passed him, he yanked the bill of his red cap lower over his eyes.

“Get a grip,” he grumbled. He was an eighteen-year-old guy buying deodorant, not stool softener. He was totally casual and had absolutely no reason to be so fucking paranoid. Nobody who might recognize him was coming to Cooper’s Market at 8 a.m. on a Sunday.

Brick wiped his clammy palms on his jeans and searched the shelves for what he’d come for so he could hurry up and leave. There it was, fifth shelf in a sea of sleek black and edgy, neon letters: Axe Ice Chill.

“Okay, do you consider yourself more of a music lover, sports star, gaming guru, or style icon?” Boomer had asked as he sat cross-legged on the sofa with his laptop open to the Axe “Find Your Magic” test a few months ago.

“Sports star,” Butch had said on his left, and poked the screen that wasn’t a touch-screen.

“That’s you, moron,” Brick had said, totally above this stupid test. “Pick style icon.”

Boomer grinned. “Oh yeah, your hoodies are so stylin’.” He clicked the next question. “Signature scent? Huh, maybe warm and aromatic?”

“Sounds like one of those Yankee holiday candles,” Butch had said.

Unfortunately, he had a point.

“Well, you're not exactly woody and earthy, and you’re definitely not fruity and sweet—”

“Just go to the next one.” Brick clicked on “fresh and cool” and waited for the screen to load. “Smellin’ good!” the loading page flashed at him. Jesus fucking Christ.

When the quiz presented a true or false statement, Butch moved like he had a bug up his ass and slammed the touchpad before Brick or Boomer could do anything about it.

Boomer tried not to laugh. “Dude, come on.”

“Please, he’s a punk-ass dweeb who’d never make the first move in a fight, let alone on a girl—” Butch had taunted.

Brick punched him in the throat with his Super speed and smiled at the sound of his asshat brother gagging. “Choke and die, motherfucker.”

Butch wheezed as he laughed through the pain, and Brick and Boomer breezed through the more generic age and appearance questions: under 18, long hair (“Mane Man!” the quiz gushed, and Brick almost melted Boomer’s laptop right there), and natural look. After an artificially anticipatory loading screen, a picture of a dude with a clown nose crowd surfing in a sepia Instagram filter appeared on the screen with the generic “Be your best self!” encouragement in blocky letters superimposed upon it, and finally the expert, personalized recommendation for Brick’s body spray needs.

“Because you’re hotter when you’re chill.” Brick had cringed when he read that idiotic tagline the first time, and he cringed reading it again now in the deserted personal hygiene aisle where he prayed no one would find him buying this cry-for-help vanity spritz.

However.

He sprayed a bit of mist in the air and reveled in that cool, icy scent that wasn’t a scent so much as a feeling. Six degrees chiller in a bottle. The first time he’d tried it (under great duress), he’d griped and bitched and slammed his bedroom door to get away from his howling brothers. Settled on his bed with a frown, he had to admit it did cool him off. It was almost pleasant. The smell wasn’t overwhelming like that tiger piss Butch bathed in on the daily. But it wasn’t out of this world compared to the generic shit he’d been using before.

It wasn’t until Blossom sneezed on their way out of AP Lit that her ice breath—and understanding—hit him with the force of a cold snap to the balls.

“Sorry, did I get you?” she’d said, abashed as she covered her mouth with one hand and fished out a bottle of Purell from her messenger bag with the other. Her ice splatter fast melted on his shoulder as his too-warm body absorbed the cold with a bizarre, but extremely pleasant, shiver down his spine.

Son of a bitch, but he had a kink.

Which, of course, spiraled way the hell out of control when he found himself here months later with a recycled shopping bag he’d brought so he could carry the three bottles of Axe Ice Chill he planned to purchase home, because Brick planned ahead and liked to keep his bathroom well-stocked.

Which also, of course, was why at that very moment, fate decided to punch him in the dick.

“Bubbles, you have, like, fourteen bottles of shampoo at home! You don’t need another one,” Buttercup groused at 8 in the goddamned morning on a Sunday.

“Those are all different products, not just shampoo. Honestly, Buttercup.” Bubbles zipped into the aisle with Buttercup on her tail just at the moment Brick had his second panic attack in the span of five minutes and completely lost his shit.

He launched the bottle of Axe Ice Chill so hard into the ceiling that it lodged in there tighter than a prairie-dogging turd.

“Brick?” Blossom’s hand on his shoulder nearly sent him yeeting after his abused body spray, if the sheer mortification didn’t rob him of further motor function and exactly one hundred percent of his brain cells.

Like her sisters, she wore a jacket over her pajama pants. They must have just popped over for some last-minute breakfast staples and a side of peer humiliation. But even in those criminally hideous Ugg boots and five boxes of pancake mix in her shopping basket at 8 on a fucking Sunday morning, her smile glowed.

“Hi,” she said.

“Hi,” he returned lamely, because that was all she was getting from him until his neurological functions rebooted.

“Hi, Brick,” Buttercup said, suspicious like usual and searching for some excuse to bust his balls for a laugh. “What’re you doing here?”

The Super sisters had cornered him in front of the Teen Spirit, which came in an absolutely frightful eighteen scents because there was nothing pubescent teenagers needed more than eighteen reassurances that their social survival depended on smelling like a potpourri candy bar.

“Shopping, obviously,” Bubbles said. “Ooh, Brick, you have straight hair. What do you think?” She held up two bottles of brightly colored free-range, organic hair shit.

“I think I was just leaving,” he managed.

“Empty-handed?” Buttercup peered at him like he might transform into a literal dick with ears if she only managed not to blink for long enough. He could smell the threat of a joke on her.

“They didn’t have the brand I wanted.”

“Oh, that sucks,” Bubbles said, genuinely stricken.

“Girls, let’s get going. I really want those pancakes,” Blossom said.

“We better grab more syrup. Buttercup finished it all,” Bubbles said, already moving away. She dropped both hair products in Blossom’s basket, not bothering to choose between them.

“Oh please, everybody knows you and the Professor are the syrup fiends in this house.” Buttercup floated after her and waved to Brick. “Hey, tell that shithead to answer my texts. He owes me $20.”

“Uh-huh,” Brick said, fully intending not to mention anything about this conversation to Butch at all.

“Sorry about your favorite brand being sold out,” Blossom said.

It’s fine, he would have said had she not caught his cheek in her hand and pressed a frosty kiss to the corner of his lips before he could do anything about it. Frozen fernlings crept over his cheek and chin, down his neck, and slowly absorbed through his now flushed skin, and he shivered. Without even thinking about it, he reached for her, but she was already walking away to catch up with her sisters.

When she got to the end of the aisle, she shot him a cheeky grin over her shoulder and had the nerve to wink at him. “Stay cool, Brick.”

Red in the face and high on her, Brick just stood there like an idiot gawking at his kind of unofficial girlfriend and the singular dominating object of his fantasies, be they sexual or otherwise. What was dignity when she smiled at him like that? What was a paltry imitation in a bottle when she kissed him like that?

The paltry imitation fell from its hole in the ceiling and exploded on the tiled floor at Brick’s feet with a winter ferocity that, in that moment at least, rivaled Blossom’s in the heat of battle.

When Brick got home later that morning and Boomer asked him why he smelled like a snowman’s asshole, Brick burned the clothes on his back and spent the next half hour in the shower thinking about how he was going to convince Blossom to make the first move and finally make them official.

xxx

Y’all better appreciate the research that went into this fic. That Axe quiz is real and I took it pretending to be Brick, and it literally does spit out a photo of a dude wearing a clown nose in a club. If that’s not a sign from the Daddy that I’ve chosen the righteous path, then idk what is. Sacrifices to my Chrome search history were made for this fic in the name of celebrating Carrie, ergo, worth it.

#Blossick #PPG Reds #Blossom #Brick #Powerpuff Girls #PPG Fanfic #Powerpuff Girls Fanfiction #february fic prompts #ppg shook

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lettersfromn0where · 4 years ago

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ZFAW: Self-Love Saturday

For the last day of @zkfanworkweek!

It’s no secret that I love writing more than almost anything in existence, or that I’m somewhat absurdly passionate about my work. I’m well aware that a handful of people probably think this is annoying (how many people who have had the misfortune to be in any kind of chat with me never want to hear the name “Hina Oyama” again? Probably most of them), and I was hesitant to do this at all because I know I can be self-centered and I’m trying to work on that. But I realized that I’m not doing this for feedback or because I want people to read my work - if I were to talk about my fic like this, it would be coming from a place of excitement about sharing something I love with others, not about finding new readers. (Have I done a little too much networking of that kind? Yes. Am I proud of it? Not at all. That’s why I had to make sure that that wasn’t why I was doing this.)

So I’m going to go for it, and give you guys the background behind a few of my favorite things I’ve written. Stories below the cut.

Story #1: The One That Taught Me That It’s Okay to Fail As a Writer

and I'll write you a tragedy (June 2020)

I wrote this back in June, when I was first getting into AtLA - I think it was my third or fourth published Zutara fanfic. I didn’t have many friends yet; most of the ones I talked to at the time, I've since lost touch with. So my participation in the fandom was largely isolated. I’d just write things and yeet them into the void without a care in the world - that’s what I did with “And I’ll Write You a Tragedy.” I had this grand idea that it would be ~the angstiest thing ever written~ and I was SO excited to get home (I was at the beach when I got the idea) so I could work on it...

Only to find that I simply wasn’t ready for the story I was trying to tell.

Oh, I wrote it, and it was...decently well-reviewed for something that caused me so much existential angst. But it fell so short of the concept that I had for it that, the moment I hit “post,” I was so frustrated that burst into tears. (Like a kindergartner. One can never say I deserve to be called an adult.) I wanted to establish myself in this new fandom so badly that anything I perceived as substandard was a crushing failure. And it was the process of talking myself through that frustration that taught me something I’ve tried to hold close ever since: every writer writes a dud every once in a while. No one is at the top of their game 100% of the time; those who appear to be probably don’t post the duds. Should I have posted this, then? Well, the jury is out on that. I still hate it. But it deserves a spot here just for the lesson it taught me.

Story #2: the One That Broke the Angst Ceiling

who lives, who dies, who tells your story (July 2020)

I have no idea how this took my angst from the coltish awkwardness of “sort of sad, but not very well-done” to genuinely depressing, but it did. Maybe I should blame quarantine and all of the difficulties that brought with it, or just the additional writing experience I had gained by that time. Whatever the reason, I remember this - even though it never got very popular - as an absolute triumph for me as a writer, because this is when I FINALLY learned how to write effective angst. For *years* I had thought I was simply incapable of writing anything sad, but this showed me that I wasn’t. I’ll never understood what flipped the switch (maybe it was @hiniwalay, whose help in forming this idea was invaluable...I love and miss you so much <3), but it’s a very important part of my writing journey even so.

Story #3: The One That Got Inexplicably Popular

Tethered (Zutara Week - written in June 2020, posted in late July 2020)

Zutara Week 2020 was sort of the point at which I established myself in this fandom and I have super fond memories of the warm reception I received at the time. It was such a positive, encouraging experience - and perhaps the one and only time that people have actually wanted to indulge my somewhat ridiculous obsession with fluff. And this was sort of the peak of my entrance into the ZK fandom.

And I am...not sure how I feel about that.

Soulmate AUs are obviously super popular, so I knew that “Tethered” was going to be one of my better-recieved ZKW fics if I did it even marginally well. What I did NOT expect was that, by the time of this post, it would be exactly tied with The Waiting Game for my most kudos’d work. It’s almost insane to me that that is a thing, because, while I don’t hate how “Tethered” came out, I definitely don’t feel like it deserved the hype it got. It’s...just another soulmate AU, but seeing that I was capable of writing something that people would gobble up did wonders for my confidence - and, I think, for my reputation in the fandom as well. It was definitely a mile-marker on my journey, even if I would rather it have been a different ZKW oneshot (this one was my favorite).

Story #4: The Twitter Favorite

Four Days and Three Nights (written August 2020)

I will never, ever forget the day I posted this.

I joined a Zutara group chat on Twitter just before Zutara Week 2020 began, and I quickly became...a little bit desperate for their attention. “The Waiting Game” (much more on that later) sprung from that desperation, but this was the one that actually did something about it. Which is funny, because it was actually a complete accident! 4D3N, as it is affectionately called on Twitter, was the result of my dumb butt reading “Five,” thinking “I want to write something that depressing!”, and just...going for it. I told myself not to overthink things as I desperately banged out the 3166 words of this story in two hours (because I needed to go for a run before it got dark and didn’t start writing until 3), and that is probably the one and only time in my entire life that telling myself something like that actually worked. Writing 4D3N was just sort of this rush that I barely even had time to recognize while I was caught up in it and the result was something I genuinely felt that I could be proud of - that’s pretty rare. My Twitter friends went slightly insane, half of them wanted to stab me (in a good way), and I finally felt like I actually belonged in this fandom - like I had done something to earn a place there. [Caveat: fandom is for everyone and you never need to “earn the right” to be in one, but my brain latched onto the idea that I didn’t deserve to be creating things for a fandom that didn’t want me and would not let it go. Figures.] Lately, I’ve been struggling with this one a little bit because it’s getting a lot of comparisons to “Five” in which it never fares favorably, for obvious reasons, and it was never actually my favorite fic to begin with, but it still means a lot to me. This is the one I recommend to people who are curious about my work and probably always will be.

Story #5: The Sleeper Favorite

Lean On (written August 2020)

I have no earthly idea why I like this one so much, but it has to be my favorite oneshot I have up. It’s hurt-comfort and dives into the implications of the Agni Kai for Zuko’s health, both physical and mental - maybe it’s the uniqueness of that premise that endeared it to me, or maybe the personal-ness...is that a word?...of the narrative. The bare-bones summary: Zuko’s health is declining a year after the Agni Kai, Katara shows up to do something about that, and what follows is a year of Pain and Heartache for both of them as they try to navigate their conflicting feelings for each other. But really, it’s a story about healing: physically, yes, but also mentally and emotionally. I certainly relate a lot to Katara in “Lean On,” as I’ve been the friend caught in the crossfire of others’ battles with their mental health many times and I wanted to try to write from both sides of that conflict. But I think I probably wrote more of myself into Zuko than I originally anticipated, as well. Quarantine has not been good for my mental health...at all...and I’ve found myself lashing out at my family far more than I should without even knowing why, isolating myself and growing thorns so that no one would come near me. I hate seeing myself like that, and I hate that I can't seem to make myself do anything about it. So really, I was hashing out my own feelings both past and present, and what I ended up with, whatever you might think of its quality, came from the heart. I also, for whatever reason, really liked my writing here, so I have a special place in my heart for “Lean On.”

Story #6: The Fluff I Didn’t Hate

Waffleosophy (written September 2020)

Look, there's not a lot to say about this, but it’s definitely my favorite fluff that I’ve ever written. I felt like I finally managed to hit the right note with this so that it came off as sweet without being saccharine, and it feels...I don’t know, wittier than what I usually write? I write a lot of fluff but something about “Waffleosophy” made it feel more polished and coherent than most of my other fluff. This was one that, as ridiculous as its premise was, I felt like I could truly be proud of; since I’m often a bit ashamed of how much of my work is fluff (it feels like “cheating” sometimes, as if I write this way because I lack the skill for real emotional beats), that’s saying a lot.

Story #7: the Insanely Niche AU

Once In a Lifetime (ongoing)

This one gets updated at the speed of snail, but. ZK ice dance AU. It just makes me so HAPPY.

Story #8: The One That Actually Did What It Was Meant To Do

Hanabi (written October/November 2020)

This heading is ironic because this was originally supposed to be an angsty slow-burn about surviving on an uninhabited island. Instead, it became as unerringly Sarah S---- as any fic ever has. Oops.

Hanabi sprung from a desire to write something incredibly soft and wholesome. Seriously. That’s it. I had just finished writing a story that got a lot more violent and dark than I had expected it to, and I wasn’t comfortable with that; I wanted to return to my roots, if you will, and write something ~soft~. I wanted to write about good people, doing good things, being good to each other, with as much tender pining as I could cram in on the side. I wanted unique worldbuilding and a relationship that had to be built rather than handed over under the guise of Soulmateism (because this was the period in which I hated The Waiting Game and everything it stood for, aka...that. It was a weird time). And I actually? Did all of that? There’s this F. Scott Fitzgerald quote about how writers have to “sell their hearts” that I think about often, and I did that here. This has as much of my heart in it as anything ever will, I think, and if I had to pick a favorite thing that I have ever written, it would be “Hanabi.” I love it a lot.

Story #9: The One You Knew Was Coming

The Waiting Game series (written July-October 2020)

I have so many feelings about this that I can’t even really articulate them all. Where would I even start?

There was the fact that the first installment was written in two weeks (thirteen days, 94,832 words) to try to get the attention of a Twitter chat. There was the matter of Hina Oyama, my blog’s namesake, an OC who took on an absolutely massive life of her own to the point where she was quite literally my coping mechanism over the summer and I annoy everyone I know by constantly banging on pots and pans and screaming about her. There was the way this universe spiraled outwards from its original installment and now has three generations, two sequels, and a prequel in progress (Hina’s origin story, which I am writing for a friend but will most likely never post). There were the friends I made because of this series and all of the inside jokes and headcanons we’ve developed while discussing it. There were all of the existential crises I had (over negative comments, over whether or not this career-defining series is even decent, over the moral implications of writing about people getting stabbed in the sequel...please don’t ask). There is the fact that everyone I come into contact with now knows what Haang is, and that by a close-reading of any passage about Hina or Kya, you could probably learn a lot about me.

But all I can say, in the end, is that I don’t know if I’ve ever written something that I fell in love with so quickly as I did “The Waiting Game,” or that had as much lasting impact upon me. (It has been five months, and I’m STILL writing in this universe, still talking about it constantly.) I know my TWG obsession is a little annoying, and I know that this universe isn’t really anything special - but it’s special to me, and it always will be. Will I shut up? Abso-freaking-lutely not. Do I care if no one knows what my username means because it refers to an OC in a fic not a lot of people actually like? Not in the slightest! I won’t pretend that TWG is a perfect story, or even that it deserves to be thought of as particularly good, but I will absolutely defy anyone who tells me that I need to “get over it.” (No one has, but my brain likes to tell me that everyone is thinking it.)

I will never be over stories that move me, especially not ones I created.

And especially not Yangchen Oyama.

~finis~

#zfaw #self love saturday #oh yeah. I went OFF #man #I have so so so many feelings #zkfanworkweek #zutara fanworks appreciation week

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piperdelaprim · 6 years ago

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Shelly and Colt accidentally kill a man (headcanons)

Okay! It's been a while, hello 👋 I'm finally back with more headcanons and this time it's for none other than the faces of Brawl Stars. I'm not exactly sure what you should expect but it's content regardless!! Let's go!!

Is it Sholt? Yes. Is it romantic? Not entirely sure but I'll try.

So the scene starts off with Shelly being like: "Uh, what the fuck did we just do...?"

And then Colt being shocked as hell stands there for a minute and then takes initiative to check if the dude's really dead. He uses his revolver to nudge the body, but lo and behold--it is lifeless.

Imagining the duo with a motherlode of meiotic dialogue (the rhetorical device, not cell separation yall LOL) Shelly would then say: "Mm yeah. He's dead."

Colt responds, not believing what they just did: "Okay great! Wanna go grab some coffee?" Shelly then elbows him so Colt can have a jarring reality check alongside her. She starts shedding some tears, however she tries her best to hold them in to control the situation.

Colt, knowing how stressed Shelly can get even in arguably much smaller dillemas (in comparison to a murder), he starts to reassure her, hugging her and all that good uwu shit, telling her it's going to be fine and that they were ultimately innocent. However, Shelly, stopping her tears and interrupting Colt, she ominously says: "We need to hide the body."

And then Colt's like: "You're...insane...but sure okay!"

Then the scene segways to the events leading up to this incident and I'm about to tell you it right now yeet

It's a "normal" day in Brawl Town, the sun's out on a windy Wednesday and nothing was out of the ordinary. Colt and Shelly at this point have known eachother for a couple months but absolutely LOVE pining! The third wheel and best friend, Poco, gets insanely irritated with the two of them not professing their affection for one another--but like most days, that's just a normal thing.

After a match, Poco and Shelly hung out and ate lunch together at Bull's Diner. Poco noticed that something was quite out of the ordinary: "I think there's a weird dude in town."

The "weird dude" doesn't match any of the existing brawlers' characteristics or physical appearances. Poco continued to tell Shelly that he was always acting weird and randomly knocking at every brawlers' residences.

Shelly being skeptical asked Poco for proof. "Well! I don't have any! But he does look weird, like the pictures of the robohumans I saw in the newspaper centuries ago," says Poco.

"What are those?"

"You know those things we fight every day, Shelly Yeah, they used to capture humans and turn them into robot human hybrids. I don't know who stopped the robots from doing it, but I haven't seen one in forever--until now. But stay safe tonight, Shelly. Maybe you can ask Colt to come over. Hehehe."

Shelly, with red cheeks, almost jumps out of her side of the booth to nag back at Poco, "I don't need protecting!" As partially annoyed as she was, she couldn't help but chuckle at what Poco had jokingly said.

"Are you sure you don't need protecting, Shelly? You *did* let your emotions get the better of you just now!"

"Haha very funny //bonehead, but I think *you* should be the one worrying about safety with a guitarrón as your only weapon!"

"Shelly, I'm fine...I'm already dead." bruh moment, end of scene

Later that night, Shelly returns home, half asleep and ready to crash--until she saw Colt at her front door. Almost instantly, Shelly was wide awake.

Not knowing how to showcase her affection toward him as per usual, with her eyes open wide she sternly says, "What the hell are you doing here."

"Poco said you needed me here." Colt said with a smirk.

"Screw you Poco oh my god." said Shelly under her breath. She looked back up at Colt and said "Look, thanks for going out of your way and everything, but Poco's just messing with you. Goodnight, Colt."

Before she went in her house, Colt said with the greatest of speed: "Okay wait listen, so two things: my cousin Penny just arrived at Brawl Town and I actually can't stand her attitude but Mama and Jess love her a lot because she's really good at brawling and she's making a lot of money right now for the family but once again I don't really like her so I hoped I could stall and talk to you for a little bit and ALSO that new guy here is scaring the shit out of me and I don't feel safe at night hahahaha....ha..."

Shelly, internally excited that Colt wants to spend more time with her but forbids to let that show in her face, gives in and lets him in her house. Before that, she says: "You know you really gotta start sucking it up. The kid's making more money than you for a reason."

Shelly and Colt started chatting with eachother in the couch about their lives in Brawl Town and how crazy their lifestyle is, and eventually Colt says: "Man it still shocks me how we just...ran into eachother back there." (The whole "No Time to Explain" thing)

Shelly, with a laugh says: "You were literally about to die :))" Colt laughs with her, saying "I really wouldn't have been here gushing over you every day if you didn't save my ass a couple months ago."

Internally, Shelly's like: holyshitholyshit whatdoesthatmean whatthehellishesayingtomerightnow ohmygodholyshit but the words that came out of her head was: "You? Gushing over me? Quit playing h a h a." Shelly's hella nervous and super flustered.

"Wow Shelly," Colt said playfully, "what a way to discredit weeks and weeks of me thinking of what I was planning to say to you sooner or later :P"

Shelly got up from her spot in the couch and inched closer toward Colt. Very much unlike her usual self, she was flustered and smiling like a middle schooler around their crush, except it's actually like that besides the fact that they're not middle schoolers. "Just...shut the fuck up already." said Shelly jokingly with a smile as she put her arms on top of Colt's shoulders.

The both of them were MEGA flustered, and as excited as they were, they allowed for the moment to carry itself. Although slowly, their lips eventually locked for a couple seconds, HOWEVER, a sudden sound of a window breaking startled the both of them--the sound came from the second story of Shelly's house.

Jerking up from the couch, the both of them grabbed their weapons and stormed upstairs. Shelly recognized that the sound came from the spare room--a place where she hardly goes to maintain.

When the pair approached the door, they found cover and kicked it open like the police do and instantly pointed their weapons toward the figure they recognized as the "weird dude".

"Shit, Poco wasn't kidding." said Shelly, "What the hell are you doing in my house?Get out or we'll shoot!"

The weird dude, super unfazed by the way, says menacingly, "Oh dear, I just need a place to stay!" Shortly after his request, he shoots at the painting that hung in the hallway, knocking it down.

You know what that means! W A R. It was Shelly and Colt vs. the Weird Dude. Shelly and Colt's regular attack hardly damaged him. It was clear what he was. He was made by the robots (not the robo squad but the big boys we fight during the ticketed events).

Shelly's super was charged up, but didn't want to use it. However, the weird dude's punch attack was inching closer and closer to Colt, and Shelly, without thinking, fired her super at the humanoid.

After doing so, there was peace and quiet, but Shelly didn't know what she had just did because the first thing she did was attend to Colt.

"Holy shit are you okay?!"

"Of course, if my hair's fine, then I am too ;) but one thing, Shelly...*points to the humanoid* I THINK YOU KILLED HIM."

And then it's basically back to the beginning of the post!

The two of them brainstorm on ways to dispose of the body, but alas, their moral compasses are failing them in this scenario. But, suddenly, Colt remembered that there was an incinerator back at the Junker family home.

"Okay...NO." Shelly didn't like the idea of literally dragging a dead half-human into the Junker residence. "Your mom's really not gonna like me if she smells a dead freaking body in her house."

"Heh, is that *really* what you're worried about? ;))" bruh moment no.2

*flustered ass Shelly activated* "nOOo...of course not! I just killed a man. I can't really worry about anything else anymore can I..."

Shelly really didn't want to face Pam after this whole mess, even though she had nothing to do with it anyway. "Well, we're not doing that. I don't want to freak them out." She's just too packed with emotions to meet the parents LOL

Suddenly there was a knock on the front door downstairs. Sholt both had an "oh shit!" moment and Shelly hesitantly ran down the stairs opened the door, ready to give an explanation, but turns out it was just Poco.

"oH mY gOd sHELLy aRE yOu oKAy?!" Poco cried as he LITERALLY jumped on top of her. "I heard your shotgun from a mile away and I-"

"PocoIThinkIKilledTheWeirdGuyJesusIThinkI'mAMurdererWhatAmI-"

"you wh-"

"alsomeandcoltkindakissedandhe'supstairswiththebody-"

"YOU WHAT-"

"Yeah I know I murdered a guy in front of the literal sheriff to save his life how much more ironic can it get,,,"

"Okay that's cool and all but you guys really kissed it was gonna happen sooner or later hehe..."

"THATS NOT IMPORTANT POCO I KILLED SOMEONE"

"Eh, I wouldn't worry too much about that."

*confused Shelly*

Colt, from upstairs, screams: "BABE HE'S GONE WHAT DO I DO? ALSO WHO'S DOWNSTAIRS?"

Poco's face lit up at Shelly, "bAbE?? ;))" said Poco quietly. Shelly let out a sigh, flattered at what he called her but irritated because he decided to call her that while Poco was around.

"IT'S POCO WE'RE FINE." Shelly said loudly from the lower level.

Colt came down to greet the not-usually-giddy Poco, "Hey Colt! It's all good! They respawn back to where they came from sooner or later, it just takes them a longer while!"

"Phew, that's a relief!" Colt exclaimed, "Did you know that Shelly didn't want to burn the body at my Mom's place because she was nervous to meet her?"

*irritated Shelly activated* "You're fUnNY."

Poco laughs, knowing he did enough to poke fun at the two. "You guys are so cute, I'll leave you two alone now, goodnight!"

Poco leaves and what do you know it's just the two of them!

"So Shelly...where were we? ;))" Shelly chuckled a little bit, as she warmed up and started to act more natural around Colt. They lean toward eachother to finish what they started before the whole conflict, but once again...

*DOORBELL RINGS*

*irritated Shelly, part 2* "I'll get it..." Shelly opens the door and starts saying "Poco oh my-" until she realized it was actually Jessie. "Oh sh- hi Jessie!! Sorry about that!"

Colt doesn't want Jessie to know that he's at Shelly's place, so he runs behind the couch to hide.

"Hi Shelly! I've been trying to look for Colt because Mama misses him so much and she really wants to see him. Is he here by any chance?"

Colt's SUPER soft spot is his mother, so he decided to get up from his hiding spot and reveal himself to Jessie. "Jessie! What are you doing alone at this time? It's dangerous!"

"Actually, I was wondering what you two are doing alone at this time?"

Shelly, slightly irritated (but not fully because she silently finds Jessie super adorable) once more, says "nothing, Jessie, don't worry about it." She turns around to Colt to tell him he should go and that she'll see him tomorrow.

And then they exchange really soft goodbyes to eachother and Jessie already knew what's up. When they were on the way home Jessie decided to ask him: "You guys are together now, aren't you? Don't lie to me!"

"Heh, sure, whatever answer satisfies you, kiddo. But I think we need to have another first date--before you did, let's just say a couple o' people decided to crash it."

That's all! I know this is much longer than my regular posts and this is definitely much more experimental than usual. I'm not exactly sure how it'll be received or if it even quenches the Sholt drought but I hope you enjoyed nonetheless!

#brawl stars #sholt #brawl stars headcanons #headcanon #au #brawl stars shelly #brawl stars colt #long post #brawlstars #supercell #i honestly dont even know what i just wrote

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all-hail-the-witcher · 6 years ago

Text

questionable government spies: chapter 11

ANY AND ALL PREVIOUS PARTS UNDER #SPY BOYS OR ON THE MASTERLIST

_________

here we goooOOOOOO

okay so alot goes down in this please try not to get too mad

its all for a reason I promise

twitch knows said reason and her general reaction was “fuck”

also I tried very very hard to make it accurate I spent literally I think like 3 months googling stuff for this

extra thanks to twitch for the evil planning

also fizz helped, hi fizz, she like made everything worse so if you have a problem go complain to her

I mean you can complain to me too but like her also

anyway lets do this

also im not really sure how to tag these warnings so if you've got any questions before you read please shoot me a message/ask whatever you want

_______

ship: eventual sprace, platonic ralbert, spromeo, fittons, jack tries to flirt with Kath and it fails

warnings: post insane traumatic injury (??) I dont wanna give it away so if you have a question please message me !!, mention of an explosion, pain, both emotional and physical, physical disability, mentions of a previous bad relationship

editing: I think so theres been alot of different versions but im fairly certain it all lines up

words: significant amount

_______

Albert was about ready to yeet himself of a bridge, as Race would say. At least, he thought that that was what Race would say. Maybe he was using yeet in the wrong context…. Anyway, Albert was just done with listening to Jack trying to flirt with Katherine.

This was the first day that his and Jack’s schedule had overlapped with Katherine’s. Of course it had to be today, the day after the mission. As if Albert didn’t have enough of a headache from the night before.

Maybe it would be more tolerable if Race were working with them, Albert thought as he moved himself all the way down to the opposite side of the counter, away from Jack. But, Race wasn’t allowed to work with them because he might flood the kitchen again.

“If you were a fruit, you’d be a fineapple.”

Albert let out a loud groan and nearly smacked his head into the counter, beside him Romeo let out a laugh.

“What’s the matter, Al?” He asked teasingly. “Ya don’t like it when people flirt? Ya live with Race for crying out loud!”

Albert sighed, picking his head up off the counter. “No, I just don’t like it when Jack flirts. He’s not subtle, and he uses the most obnoxious pick up lines. At least Race is a little more chill with it.” He thought back to the terrible snow puns from the night before. “Well, most of the time.”

“Well, he did learn from the best,” Romeo bragged and Albert gave him a sideways look. “What? I am a master at flirting! See, I’ll prove it to you. I bet I can make the next person who walks through that door blush.”

Albert rolled his eyes. “Be my guest.”

The next person to walk through the door happened to be Buttons. Albert choked out a laugh. Romeo made a face but still delivered his pickup line.

“Hey Buttons!” He called. “Is your name google? Cause you’re everything I’ve been searching for.”

Buttons made a disinterested face and Albert dissolved into a fit of laughter.

“Ro, didn’t we say no more flirting with the customers?” Buttons asked as he moved around some of the chairs at a table close to the counter.

“But you’re not a customer, you’re an employee,” Romeo pointed out as he began to help a customer.

“All the more reason not to flirt with me,” Buttons stressed. “Besides, don't you have a boyfriend?”

“Specs thinks it’s funny when I flirt with other people,” Romeo pouted.

“I find that hard to believe.” Buttons finished moving around the chairs and walked back towards the door.

“What’s he doing?” Albert asked Romeo as he prepared a drink for a customer.

Romeo glanced up. “Oh, he’s bringing Finch in. He must have been discharged yesterday after his surgery.”

“His what?” Albert was confused. Jacobs had mentioned that Finch was recovering from some sort of attack by the gang, but that had been 6 months ago. Surely he was doing better now…

“Oh, did no one tell you about Finch?” Romeo asked, pausing to call out an order.

“No…?” Albert said. “Well, Jacobs mentioned that he had gotten injured on the YMONY case and was recovering but that’s it.”

“Recovering isn’t the word I’d use,” Romeo said. “He’s had a rough time.”

“What do you mean?” Albert asked uncertainly.

“You’ll see,” Romeo waved him off as the door opened again, revealing Buttons pushing Finch in a wheelchair.

“Hey Finch!” Romeo greeted as Buttons parked his chair at a table next to the counter. “How’ve ya been?”

“Pretty good,” Finch responded.

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Don’t listen to him. He’s been in constant pain for the last week.” He leaned down to kiss Finch gently on the lips. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Have one of the guys come back and grab me if you need anything.”

Finch nodded and waved to Buttons as he walked toward the kitchen. Then he looked up at the counter and noticed Albert for the first time.

“Albert Dasilva! I haven’t seen you in years!” He exclaimed, taking in his friend. “I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“Yeah it’s been awhile,” Albert agreed, leaning across the counter and surveying Finch's appearance. He was wearing an old blue flannel shirt and sweatpants. The right sleeve of his shirt was rolled up to his bicep, revealing the fact that he was missing most of his right arm. Fastened securely on top of his shirt, around his lower abdomen, was a white brace that appeared to extend all the way down his left leg under his sweatpants. There was heavy bandaging and most likely a brace encasing his right lower leg. The chair was tilted back slightly and both foot rests were raised to support his presumably injured legs.

“Are you and Race still partners?” Finch asked as Albert rung someone up at the register.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re still partners,” Albert felt himself smile at the mention of Race. “We’ve started training a kid. Jack!” Albert called across the counter to Jack, who was still trying to miserably flirt with Katherine.

Jack wandered over, looking a little disappointed that he was being called away from his crush. “What is it?”

Albert gestured to Finch. “Jack, this is Finch Cortes. Race and I were friends with him in training. He’s partners with Buttons, and they were training Katherine.” Then he turned to Finch. “Finch, this is Jack Kelly. Race and I have been training him for about a year.”

“Hi,” Jack said, clearly anxious to get back to Katherine.

“You’re so lucky that Race and Albert are training you,” Finch told him. “They’re two of the best field agents I’ve ever seen. Well,” he paused, laughing slightly, “except for that time where they almost blew up the weapons lab.”

Jack stamped his foot in frustration. “How is it that everyone knows about that except me?”

“It’s just one of those things you had to experience for yourself to truly appreciate it,” Romeo sighed, staring off into the distance comically. “I will never forget the look on Jacobs’s face when he told us why it was off limits.”

Albert and Finch began to laugh and Jack stomped back down behind the counter toward Katherine.

“Al, when’s your break?” Finch asked after the laughter had subsided. “I wanna catch up.”

Albert glanced up at the clock. “I can take it now, actually, one second.” He ducked back into the kitchen to hang up his apron and returned moments later, pulling up a chair at the table Finch was sitting next to.

“So,” Finch began. “What brings you and Race back here? I thought Race didn’t want anything to do with this city.”

Albert laughed a little. “Well, Jacobs assigned us a case, and he thinks that we’re going to fail, so Race wants to prove him wrong.”

“What case?” Finch asked. “Or are you not allowed to say?”

“No, no, I can say,” Albert said. He took a deep breath. He was still hoping against hope that Finch hadn’t gotten injured on the YMONY case, even though he knew he had. “Race and I were tasked with bringing YMONY down,” he said.

Finch’s face darkened for a brief second before he responded. “I didn’t realize that someone else was getting assigned to that,” he said.

“Apparently no one was supposed to,” Albert said. “But they got some sort of coded message and Jacobs hates us, so he figured hey why not put them on, if they go missing or die then at least I’ll be rid of them.”

Finch smiled briefly. “Buttons and I were on that case. They’re a dangerous group, as you can see.” He gestured to himself with his left hand.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” Albert began hesitantly, “what happened? Just so I know what we’re getting ourselves into.”

“No, I don’t mind at all,” Finch assured him. “Well, it all started with the Big Bang….which was of course me hitting the floor.”

From the counter, Romeo let out a loud groan and Albert suppressed a laugh. He was glad Finch’s current situation had not affected his personality.

“I was at a warehouse with Buttons and Katherine,” he continued. “We knew that it was a point of contact for the gang and I wanted to scout the area. Buttons and Katherine were around the corner in the car on comms with the cameras and schematics pulled up. I was up on one of the ledges when an explosion went off, shoving me off and down about 10 feet. Then another explosion went off. I don’t remember anything after that but apparently part of the warehouse started falling apart. They told me a steel beam fell on me.”

Albert was at a loss for words. “Oh my god,” he whispered. And I let Race go undercover in that gang. “Are you gonna be okay?”

“You want the laundry list of stuff?” Finch asked, although he didn’t seem annoyed. “Then you can decide for yourself.”

“Um, sure,” Albert said.

“Well, my arm got blown off in the explosion,” he began, gesturing to his stump, just above where his elbow should have been. “I have a prosthetic, but I don’t like wearing it because it’s not the permanent one and it’s uncomfortable.” He paused. “When I fell off the ledge I landed on my back, which caused a dislocated hip and a T9 spinal fracture.”

“You’re not- you’re not paralyzed are you?” Albert stammered.

“Hold your horses, Al,” Finch smiled. “I’m getting there.” He paused, remembering where he had left off. “The beam that landed on me broke my left femur into 5 pieces, broke my left knee cap, and shattered my right lower leg. The beam also caused severe damage to my left femoral nerve which they think might have resulted in a degree of permanent femoral nerve dysfunction. And the shattered bones in my lower right leg completely severed my peroneal nerve, causing probably permanent peroneal nerve palsy. Also, the damage to my spinal cord resulted in incomplete paraplegia.”

Albert stared at him. “English please?”

Finch laughed. “I’m paralyzed from about here,” he pointed to several inches above his belly button, “down. But, since the injury was incomplete, my brain can still send some signals. I have about 50% feeling still from my hips down. In terms of movement, my left leg and hip are more immobile than my right, at least that’s what the doctors speculated, they won’t know for sure until my legs heal. Plus, all of the damage to the nerves in my legs kinda complicates things a little. But, I do have pretty good control of my abdominal muscles, about 75% of what it was and relatively no loss of feeling there so that’s good.”

“So, you are paralyzed?” Albert asked.

“Yes,” Finch said. “Both incomplete T9 paraplegia, and bilateral peripheral neuropathy.”

“Are you going to be able to walk again?” Albert stared at his friend with concern and sympathy.

Finch shrugged. “No one's really sure yet. Depends on how well everything heals and what my range of motion ends up being. I had surgery about a week ago on my right leg,” he pointed to the bandages encasing his right lower leg. “It was meant to relieve some of the pressure and hopefully give me a little movement. I have a scan next week to see how my left knee, leg and hip are healing and if they’re good I’ve got a chance of walking again. But, they have already told me that it will be difficult. Even if everything does heal properly, because of the severe nerve damage and spinal paralysis, I’ll still need braces, probably an HKAFO and forearm crutches or a walker which could be difficult considering….” he trailed off, gesturing to his missing arm.

“What’s an HK whatever it was?” Albert asked.

Finch shifted slightly, his face contorting with pain. He pointed to the brace around his lower back. “This is an HKAFO. It’s a brace that goes around your torso and hip area and then down your thigh, knee, ankle and foot. The one I’m wearing right now only goes around my left leg. Once it’s decided whether or not walking is in the question, another leg brace will get attached around my right leg. It’s kind of like an exoskeleton.”

Albert looked at his friend, letting all of that information sink in. Finch was paralyzed. Finch might never walk again. Finch had been injured while on the same case he had Race were on. “Dude, I am so sorry,” he finally said.

Finch brushed off his apology. “Why? Wasn’t your fault and there’s nothing you can do to change it.”

“I can help bring down the people who did it,” Albert reminded him.

Finch laughed, which Albert found odd considering the situation. “I’m sure you guys will. But I’m not one for revenge. Besides,” he smirked at Albert, “this is just a side effect of being a field agent.”

“Yeah I’m pretty sure they don’t cover amputation and paralysis in the orientation,” Romeo called from the counter.

Finch rolled his eyes. “Well, yeah. But I willingly signed up for this, I knew getting severely injured or dying was a possibility.”

Yeah, Albert thought. A possibility we all would like to forget exists.

“Besides,” Finch added. “I’m not dead, so that’s a plus.”

Albert stared at him in disbelief. “You’re missing half of your right arm and you can’t walk. How is any of this good?”

“Well for starters, I still have my left arm.” He waved it around for emphasis. “And I can get around just fine in a wheelchair. Plus I have a fantastic boyfriend to take care of me. The worst thing about all of this is that I can’t use my slingshot anymore.”

“I don’t understand how you’re so positive about all of this,” Albert said.

“Facing death makes you appreciate life, Albert,” Finch said. It would have been poetic if he didn’t sound so sarcastic.

Albert shrugged. He knew Finch was right, but he couldn’t stop picturing Race in his place. He didn’t think he could go through that.

Finch opened his mouth to say something, but then closed his eyes and scrunched up his face in pain. His breathing was loud and quick.

“Finch?” Albert said immediately, jumping out of his chair. “Finch what's wrong?”

“Get Buttons,” he said through clenched teeth. “And ice.”

Albert didn’t have to be told twice. He ran into the kitchen, skidding to a stop next to Buttons who was working at the grill.

Albert clamped a hand onto Buttons’s shoulder. “Finch needs you,” he said and Buttons’s eyes widened as he began to turn. “Look like he’s in pain. He asked for ice.”

“Okay,” Buttons said, calling over to one of the other workers in the kitchen and abandoning his station. He ran to the freezer and filled a bag with crushed ice before darting through the doors, Albert following close behind.

Finch was exactly where Albert left him. If he hadn’t been, Albert would have been worried. Buttons pulled up a chair directly in front of of Finch’s chair and gently lifted his right leg into his lap. He rolled up Finch’s sweatpants to the knee, revealing a brace around his lower leg and foot and thick bandaging. Then he pressed the ice bag to his boyfriends mangled leg.

A pleased sigh escaped Finch’s lips and he opened his eyes to look at Buttons. “Thanks babe,” he said.

“Of course,” Buttons responded. “Everything else okay?”

Finch nodded.

Buttons turned to Albert. “What kind of lies has he been telling you?”

“I didn’t tell him any lies!” Finch protested. “I told him what happened.”

Buttons rolled his eyes. “Yeah, and I bet you left out the part where you died for three minutes, and the part where they almost had to amputate not one but both of your legs, and the fact that you were in the ICU for almost a month before you were stable enough to be moved, and the part where you can barely sleep through the night without screaming in pain.”

“I was unconscious for most of those things,” Finch protested. “And I’m here now, so what does all that really matter?”

Buttons looked at Albert. “Is Race ever this stubborn about injuries?”

Albert considered for a moment. “Race isn’t usually the one who gets injured. That’s my job.”

Buttons sighed. “Consider yourself lucky.”

Albert thought back to the previous night’s events and how his efforts had gone to waste. He thought about how his hands had been shaking last night when he went to purchase Race’s advil. He thought about Race leaning into him last night as he guided him gently down the hall to their apartment. “Yeah,” he whispered, mostly to himself, “real lucky.”

Finch lifted his head and looked at Albert quizzically as if he were about to say something when Medda burst out of the back room calling his name.

“Albert!” she sang. “Would you be a dear and play these lovely customers some of your music?”

Albert smiled. “Of course Miss Medda.” He stood and began walking back towards the break room to grab his guitar. When he came back, Medda was talking to Finch about his condition.

“You feeling any better, baby?”

“A little bit,” Finch said as Albert began to tune his guitar. “Still a lot of pain, but we’re getting there.”

“That’s good, honey.”

Buttons adjusted the ice bag as Al plucked the E string. Finch winced slightly and Buttons picked up his hand and began to rub gentle circles into it with his thumb.

Guitar finally tuned, Albert moved toward the wood stove in the far corner of the coffee shop to begin playing. Medda usually had him play around 10 songs at a time.

He played a variety of slow indie coffee shop-esque songs and came down to the last one. He plucked a daw strings absently as he tried to decide what to play. His mind wandered for a few seconds before he decided.

He began to strum the opening chords before he sang.

“He’s watching the taxi driver he pulls away. He’s been locked up inside his apartment a hundred days. He says ‘yeah he’s still coming, just a little bit late, got stuck at the five and dime saving the day.’ He just watching the clouds roll by and they spell his name, like Lois Lane. But still he smiles, oh the way he smiles.”

Across the shop, Finch caught his eye, looking as if he were deep in thought.

“He’s talking to angels, counting the stars, making a wish on passing cars. He’s dancing with strangers, falling apart, waiting for Superman to pick him up in his arms, in his arms.”

Crap, Albert thought. He knows.

•••

Albert arrived back at his and Race’s apartment around 2 pm since he had had the morning shift at the coffee shop.

“Race?” He called out softly, hanging up his jacket and leaning up his skateboard against the wall. Apparently Oscar gave anyone involved in a heist the next day off so they could rest, sleep, tend to their wounds, etc. Since Race wasn’t in the kitchen or the living room, Albert assumed he might be napping.

He walked quietly down the hall to Race’s room and peeked inside. Sure enough, there was Race, curled up in an oversized sweatshirt and athletic pants, dozing gently on the bed.

Albert smiled and walked into the room, sitting down next to Race and pulling the throw blanket he kept at the end of the bed on top of him.

A few minutes later, Race began to stir. “Hey Albie,” he yawned, stretching slightly. “How was work?”

“It was okay,” Albert said, remembering Finch.

Race made a face, shifting to rest his head on Albert’s leg. “Your tone of voice and facial expression says otherwise,” he mumbled sleepily.

Albert laughed. Race could read him far too well. “Buttons brought Finch in today.”

“Oh, how is he? He was hurt on our case right?” Race had closed his eyes again.

“It’s bad, Race,” Albert whispered. “He lost most of his right arm, and he’s paralyzed. All those terms he told me….” Albert trailed off, thinking about all the medical shit Finch had told him. “There’s a good chance he won’t be able to walk again, Racer. And I just kept thinking, what if something like that happened to you?”

Race cracked open his eyes, staring up at his worried best friend and gently taking his hand. “I’m fine, Albie, there’s no need to worry about me,” Race reassured. “Last night went fine, I’m just a little beat up is all. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“Are you sure hun?” Albert let the pet name slip out accidentally and he winced. He only called Race that when he was worried about him. But after last night, he had reason to be.

Race’s expression softened and he placed his hand on Albert’s leg. “Hey, hey. I’m okay,” he whispered.

“I know, I just,” Albert sighed, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Race snorted. “Says the person who has more scars than freckles.”

Albert rolled his eyes.

“I’ve danced my whole life, Albie,” Race reminded him. “I have a crazy ability to overcome minor physical injury.”

Albert sighed again, lacing his fingers though Races. After a few minutes Race spoke up. “Lay down with me?” he whined.

“Of course.” Albert stretched out next to Race, looping his arm around his chest, relishing in the physical contact that proved that Race was, in fact, okay. At least for now.

_________

im sorry but it had to be done

if you have any questions about finch please ask hes gonna be around for awhile

there was a version where he died but were Done With That

also that song Albert was singing was waiting for superman by daughtry

again sorry

but also not

ALSO AMPUTATING FINCHS ARM WAS FIZZ’S IDEA NOT MINE I TAKE NO CREDIT SHE WANTED HIM TO “not be able to shoot his slingshot anymore”

huuuuuu

feedback is always appreciated hmu to be on the tag list

tag list @fairly-awkward-trashcan @well-the-kids-do-too @racetrackcook @bouncyscreamingnewsboys @ughwaitwhat @aw-jus-let-em-try @ben-cook-can-cook @the-woild-is-my-what-now @tommy-s-s0cks @voice-foundshoe-lost @galaxy-trees13 @stopthe-presses @ridin-in-style @pinecovewoods @i-got-no-clue-what-im-doing @bencookisagod @be-more-chill-evan-hansen @hellasoulless @stellar-alpaca @saxoph-ella @smolcanadiankid @disney-princess-sized @the-newsies-justice-for-zas-blog @insane-tomato @spot-conlon-king-of-brooklyn @have-we-got-news-for-you @thatfancyclam @myidkwhatmynameisblog @legoflambwrites @that-one-newskid @not-a-scab @albertdasillva

@entschuldigung-bitches

@thebroadwayaesthetic

@tea-and-theater

@thomasbeingthomas

@seasickdolphin

@auspicioustarantula

@newsies-of-nyc

@mrs-higgins

@sunshine-e-cigarettes

@spot-me50-papes

@satafe-cafe

@papesdontsellthemselves

@king-of-new-yoirk

#spy boys #saphie scribbles #ralbert #sprace #fittons #spromeo #jack is a disaster #im sorry about finch I swear theres a reason #albert dasilva #racetrack Higgins #spot conlon #buttons davenport #finch cortes #romeo #newsies fic #damn #I hurt him good #this is why there was a fic with paralysis and another with amputation awhile ago #I was getting you ready

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spitestudies · 7 years ago

Photo

hello everyone!! as a high school junior taking 4 aps, 3 other classes, preparing for the act, trying to do college research, stage managing a musical, and trying not to lose my mind, here are some fun n handy tips for not Dying when ur schedule is hell!

if you found this post helpful maybe give it a like/reblog and check out my other posts here!

01 | PLANNING AND PREPARING

so much of getting and staying organized has to do with organizing your time in advance. there are a million ways to do this--google calendar, a bullet journal, a planner, some post-it notes. my system involves three parts: a google calendar, a planner, and an online to-do list app.

google calendar: this is mostly for events. i can see when i have rehearsals, classes, doctor’s appointments, etc. this helps me see how much available time i have and budgeting it properly.

planner: i take this with me to school, and i use it to right down when i have assignments and tests. i use the ban.do planner, but these are a bit pricey, and really anything will do. just somewhere to put down tasks so you can keep track of them

getplan.co: this app is, honest to god, the only reason i am still alive and breathing. it plugs into your google calendar and then allows you to create and schedule tasks around events. @studycxlture has an amazing post about plan here that i def recommend checking out!

general tips about planning:

plan out the events of your month at least two days before it starts

set aside a night (i like sunday evenings) to set up a system for the upcoming week and go over what you have planned so you don’t forget anything

you are NOT gonna remember that assignment that teacher told you about. write it down.

you do not need a fancy system. it’s okay to try lots of different things until you find what works

never spend more time planning out tasks than completing them. unless you have that much free time, don’t dedicate two hours to making a lovely weekly bullet journal spread.

color codes!!! are a life saver. i have one with a color for each class (red for english, orange for spanish, yellow for history, green for science, blue for math, etc) as well as some for my extracurriculars (pink for the musical, teal for model un, etc).

always have ur planner open when ur working, so that you can make sure u r actually completing all the tasks u said u were gonna complete

02 | STAYING ORGANIZED

oh my god oh my god oh my god staying on top of your work is SO important when you’re busy. being able to find your worksheets and keep track of your homework and your million responsibilities is essential to being successful. to stay organized, i have an expandable file folder with tabs for each class. because i take most of my notes in notebooks instead of binders, this is a good way to keep all of my handouts, worksheets, and syllabi centralized.

also, make sure you have a way to keep your online materials organized. create a folder for each school year, and within that folder, create more folders for each class. from there, it’s up to you about how you’ll organize files. you can create even MORE folders (yeet) for things like homework, notes, study guides, etc, or folders for each unit you study. the possibilities are endless!!!! isn’t technology exciting

here r some pieces of advice for staying organized:

have a series of folders/binder/expandable file folder to hold your worksheets. or one for each class, though i prefer to keep all my papers in one a) to save money and b) to save space.

label your notebooks/binders so that you know which ones to bring home with you

never just shove something into your backpack. never. i’m gonna manifest into ur classroom and FIGHT you if u do that. it’s not good, it’ll end up getting lost or crushed under the weight of all ur textbooks, and you’ll end up panicking when u can’t find it

have ur planner on u at all times

keep a good filing system of ur stuff at home. u don’t need to carry around every single bio assignment you’ve gotten back, but by the time ur final rolls around ur gonna want 2 b able to look at all the materials you’ve gotten during the semester

that being said, throw stuff away when the year is over! i, for one, know i’m never gonna think about calculus after this class is done, so i will be recycling all of my papers (save the earth) and moving tf on

keep a recycling bin in your room! even if it’s just a paper bag, it’ll make throwing paper in the trash way less tempting (save the earth)

u don’t need a ton of pens. i’m being a giant hypocrite saying this but you really don’t need all that stuff. if you want it and you can manage it, great, but if it’s just another thing to keep track of, leave ur staedtlers and ur mujis and ur fineliners and ur calligraphy pens at home, and just take the essentials with u to school

03 | MAKING THE MOST OF UR TIME

in order to succeed, it’s v important to make every second count. this doesn’t mean studying 48 hours straight (pls don’t), but try not to waste time. whether this means you spend fifteen minutes napping, doing some reading for english, or having a quick snack, make sure u are being productive and healthy! i, for one, sometimes have 1-2 hour breaks between school and rehearsal, and i like to use these to walk to the grocery store by my school and get some food and then study in the deli.

some ideas for being productive!

carry a clipboard around everywhere. this way, u don’t need to spend as much time transitioning in and out of tasks, u can just put ur work onto the clipboard, and put it in ur backpack at the end of a break, and then the next chance u have to work on it, just take it back out. easy peasy

work during commutes! nOT if ur the one driving the car though that’s VERY dangerous and distracted driving = bad. but if ur on the bus, or ur mom is driving u to school, that might be a good time to go over some notes you took last night, or some reading you need to catch up on. nothing too insane, please don’t do ur chem labs on the public bus but. u know.

read over the notes you took that day on the ride home. this will help reinforce the information in ur brain, and it’s not super difficult. i go over my apush notes during the 40 minute drive home and sometimes talk about them w my mom, which gives me a much better grasp of the material

don’t waste time on social media. either delete instagram altogether, or log off/mute notifications before u start work. same with tumblr. don’t start scrolling obsessively if u have three tests to study for.

power naps!!!! napping for about 10-20 minutes, maybe on the way home or to practice/rehearsal/whatever u gotta do, can help u feel refreshed! anything longer will make u more tired tho, so be sure to get up when u say ur gonna get up.

study smarter: when ur going over material, u don’t need to handwrite 60 beautiful flashcards. use quizlet instead. don’t revise if it’s not gonna help u. prioritize which assignments r gonna be most impactful over the little ones u can easily make up

take good breaks!! breaks r VERY important and should be utilized properly. here r some good suggestions for things to do:

throw in a load of laundry

empty the dishwasher

stretch/do some jumping jacks

drink some water!

go for a walk

talk to a family member

get a snack!

read some fun novels n such

scream?

!! in case of emergency !! the following tips should only be employed when ur short on time. don’t use these just bc u can, this is just when it’s about getting close enough to grasping material, not actually grasping it

do every other math problem assigned, and either star the ones u didn’t do, or get the answers from the back of the book. this way, u get some practice but u also save time

sparknotes ur reading beforehand. this way, u can recognize what’s going on. it’s not v good for developing ur reading comprehension, but assignments will go by quicker

NEVER google translate ur language homework, but u can use word reference for helping u find the right word and proper conjugations

flagpole it: didn’t study enough for a test? are u guessing on like 10 of the questions? if it’s multiple choice, but the same answer for all the ones u have no clue about, unless that answer choice seems highly unlikely. then pick a different one. this way, ur statistically more likely to get some of the ones you guessed correct.

when u have an online assignment due at midnight and it’s 11:53 and u haven’t started, find another assignment you’ve already completed that has a similar document name. for example, “scarlet letter chapters 9-11″ instead of ur actual assignment “scarlet letter chapters 12-14″. submit the other one, and then when u finish the other assignment (either that night or the next morning) email ur teacher and apologize, say u accidentally submitted the wrong document

if ur parents will let u (if ur in high school) or u can let urself (if ur in uni), it’s okay to skip a day to catch up. just make sure u actually work, get the notes u missed, and talk to ur teachers/professors abt the material u missed.

04 | STAYING HEALTHY

ur health comes before any assignment, test, or extracurricular. i know lots of ppl r probably telling u that and it doesn’t seem like they mean it, but i mean it. no exam is worth sacrificing ur mental, physical, or emotional health for. yeet! so here r some things to keep in mind

eat! ur fuckin! breakfast! whether it’s a smoothie or oatmeal or a cup of orange juice or an apple or an elaborate french toast dish, u need some food in ur stomach so that u have the energy to start ur day

remember to take ur meds if u need to!

drink water! drink! water! have a glass when u wake up, and then at least one with every meal, and one before u go to bed. hydration is v important. if u can, invest in a water bottle and take it with u to class.

pack a lunch! and if ur staying later after school, pack snacks! tech week for me is always hell because i get to school at 7:30 am and don’t usually leave until 11 that night. it’s v important to stay nourished and hydrated so that u don’t get dizzy or faint.

remember! that u are beautiful, and ur body is beautiful, and it deserves 2 b loved! especially by u.

get 6 hours of sleep. aim for 8, but six at the very least. if ur done with ur work, go to bed early! don’t just stay up for no reason.

shower everyday, or every other day at least. give yourself those 15 minutes as a break from work or school or anything else that’s keeping you busy

write down ur thoughts in a journal?

talk to a friend if ur feeling sad, or just feeling things very intensely. share ur joy with other people! vent ur sadness and anger so u aren’t carrying it around everywhere.

make some time to have fun. see a movie w ur friends or ur bf/gf/datefriend or ur family over the weekend. go to a museum. hang out at the mall. sleepover at someone’s house. taking breaks is healthy.

make an effort to have dinner with ur family if u can (also if u like ur family. i know some ppl have bad relationships w them so skip this step if that’s u). it can be nice to reconnect w everyone, even when ur stressed or they’re annoying u, it can be nice.

remember that it’s okay to be imperfect! u don’t need to be good at a lot of things. i got a b for the first time last semester, i just got a c on an apush test, i failed my driver’s test again yesterday. but i also aced my math quiz, i celebrated six months of knowing my best friend, i walked my dog, i helped put a production together. it’s okay to have rough days and bad days and bleh days, as long as you keep pushing through them and working for the days to get better.

i love u!!! stay hydrated and nourished and get enough sleep. put on some lotion if u have it available. brush ur hair. if u ever wanna ask a question, my ask box is always open! <3

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