#unfortunately still one of my favorite loop edits

[honestsycrets]

mío | baby-fever!miguel o'hara x wifey!reader

❛ pairing | miguel o'hara x wifey!reader, starved prequel

❛ type | oneshot, explicit

❛ summary | after watching mayday, miguel develops a bad case of baby fever, longing for a family of his own.

❛ tags | explicit, miguel has baby fever, babysitting, talk of family planning and contraception, f!reader, breeding, pregnancy kink, much fluff, some angst, starved!reader, miguel being frustrated and cute, clean that kitchen, one stereotype of latina women, Spanish is not translated, best friend!peter, self edited.

❛ request fulfilled | could you possibly write an imagine in which Miguel and his wife take care of mayday? + multiple requests for more starved reader/miguel.

❛ sy's notes | written to fulfill some requests. i do have another daddy miguel blurb to fulfill, but my future works should be nice and angsty.

Peter has it out for him.

It’s the only logical reason why he’d do this shit to him.

Miguel stood in his dark room in a pair of scratchy jeans, dragging a belt loop to loop when he heard the door to his room draw open. A resonant schwap, schwap, schwap.

“Mi reina?” Miguel cocked his eyebrow up, extending his claws.

“¿Sí?” you called back from the bathroom, the distant scent of his favorite perfume wafting into the air. Miguel threw a look to the bathroom, reaching for the bedroom door. It burst open before he could open it. 

“Hi, Miguel! Where’s your wife?”

Peter dragged his feet into the room, whirling around with a sloppily put-together backpack that leaked diapers onto the floor. An exasperated breath left his lips, dripping in the way he looked at Peter.

Unfortunately, his little wife liked Peter a bit too much for his taste.

“I should have known.” Miguel ran his hand through his hair, strands of mocha brown flyaways wisping along his tawny forehead. “Why are you here?”

His normally disheveled appearance was a little more disheveled. It wasn’t his appearance that bothered him but how it reached his eyes. Shocked, confused, tired. Peter pat his deltoid, awkward laughter choking in his throat. It bubbled on the edge of an overwhelmed sob.

“Well, you see, your wife said she’d watch Mayday because I have a date, and I haven’t had a date in a really, really long time. Like, a really long time—”

“Is Peter here?”

His head snapped to your bathroom where you came out, threading a golden hoop earring. You probably already knew the fight that was heading your way-- but for your part, you couldn’t be bothered to care any less.

“Got it, you need this date.” Miguel cut Peter off, standing behind you with his massive arms crossed. “¿Por qué no me dijiste?”

“¡Mi nena! Muévete Miguel,” you giggled, shoving your way past Miguel to Peter’s child carrier, sneaking your hands underneath her little armpits and whirling her around. She cackled, a glittering warmth to her mischievous eyes. You came to a stop, settling Mayday against your chest, nuzzling your foreheads together in some secret pact that the two of you shared.

Oh no, no, no, no. Not this. It hits him at once.

The sight of his wife— beautiful and cuddly with a very young baby in her arms. The only sight more beautiful was at the altar on his wedding day, your shy smile behind a sheer veil. It had been a long time, too long, since he had someone to call him father. He can still picture her glimmering eyes, the way she looked at him in nothing short of admiration, looking past the things that he’d done to see him and only him. Glimpsing at Mayday, remembering Gabriella’s soft, small face, it took him a moment to snap free. 

He's so fucked.

“You would have said no, amado mío.” 

You’re a natural at this, scooting by both men to set Mayday on the bed. Your tiny fingers spiraled out from her belly to change her diaper. Peter jittered uncomfortably, looking as though he wanted to jump in himself. You cleaned her, replacing the dirty diaper with a clean one. “We’re going to a market with Tío Miguel--” 

“Don’t bring me into this.”

“Are you sure it's okay? I’ll be back at five, it's just a few hours, really--” 

“¡Vete! A ratty house robe and a dirty spider suit aren’t sexy. Look at mi Miggy,” now you’re just buttering him up. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, inspecting the ground. “Wear something nice.” 

They’re sexy to her, he might have murmured. Not on a date, you bopped him. Mayday’s bright eyes tracked the space between you and Peter before you broke away to wash your hands. Peter’s clammy hands cupped Mayday’s sweet face, littering at least a dozen sickly daddy kisses over her tiny face. But Miguel what if--

“Adiós, Peter!” You returned to force Peter out of your room. Miguel peered at Mayday whose head snapped to the side, cheek against her fiery hair as the door clicked shut. He braced himself for the shrill that would inevitably come with her realization that her daddy was gone. She whined, grabbing her toes and tipping nearly off the side of the bed. Miguel begrudgingly hovered at her feet, blocking her from rolling off the bed. He could do this, he told himself, he could resist those giant baby eyes staring up at him.

He didn't need a baby, he didn't.

He blames Peter for having such a good baby.

She doesn’t ask for much other than requiring chest-to-chest contact with Miguel. It’s not that he doesn’t want to hold her, he finds himself aggravated by how much he likes to be around her. In a market full of things to look at food trinkets such as necklaces, body scrubs, and empanadas, it’s all her. Miguel props her up with an arm just under her bum, her tiny finger peeking curiously into his fangs. He snapped his teeth playfully at her, a nip, nip, nip, missing playfully every time. It rips ping a toothy grin across her face. 

“No biting Miguelito,” you called out, sliding your fingers in a teasing ring around his muscled back to chest. You leaned up on your tippy toes, placing a small little kiss on his lips. You ran off to go get her a pineapple whip after her tiny fist yanked your hair over and over again. You relented, staring at what she was cooing at. Sweets-- obviously, sweets. All the little ones loved sweets. 

“She likes it.” 

“Ya sé,” you said, “But we don’t need anyone noticing you’ve grown fangs.” 

“Tch,” he clicks his teeth in protest. She does too, throwing you a mean look for interrupting her fun. You plucked up a bit of the whip on your spoon, cutting through her displeasure through the power of sugar. 

"There's a lot of people here, Miggy, let's go to the park." You point toward the park, pointing away from the mounds of fresh produce and locally sourced goods toward a healthy patch of green grass. Miguel is glad-- he’s sick of being stared at for his huge frame. Despite the ring on his finger, people still seem to try their luck. He couldn't be more disinterested.

You lay a picnic blanket as Miguel holds Mayday's treat. Mayday sprawls across his chest, trying to take just one more bite-- then another-- Miguel looks down, chin level, eyebrow raised. She offers a bit on her tiny index finger to Miguel. A peace offering. “She’s not going to wait.” 

“Give her to me.” You kicked off your sandals on the edge of the blanket, dropping your things on another corner. You pluck Mayday from Miguel’s arms and set her down on the blanket in a way that is too easy. As though you wouldn’t have much of a learning curve in becoming a mother. No, no— you never mentioned anything about kids. Did you even want kids? He couldn't bring his heart to ask, to hope again.

“I didn’t know you were so experienced with kids.” 

“Mami had six,” you noted, plopping down with the whip by Mayday’s side. She sat with a small slant, reaching out toward the sweet treat again with those chunky, adorable hands. You brought her into your lap, at last relenting. “When you’re the oldest, you have to learn a little something to help out. Can you imagine-- being pregnant six times? Ay no.”

“How many times do you want to be pregnant?” he blurts out. Usually timed and precise, the question causes him to pinch his brow as he sits beside you. “Si quieres,” 

Your other hand comes on top of his and shifts it away from his face. 

“As many as will make you happy.” 

Shock. He chews on that response, his eyes glued to Mayday lapping at the last spoon of sweets you are willing to give her. She falls into a fit of complaints, a conniving look at the sweets, just as you lift her onto your shoulder.

"I never thought about it."

"No more, your papa won't forgive me if I bring you home all sugared up," you tsked your tongue at her. You patted along her back in small, tight circles until her angry huffs faded away. He reaches for the baby bag, slipping free a soft yellow blanket with white spiders strewn across the front. Miguel slides the blanket on top of Mayday’s small body, her groggy eyes sliding closed.

The more he watches you with Mayday, holding her so close, swaying as you held her, the deeper this ache burrowed in his chest. You would look beautiful all swollen with his child. Never mind Mayday or Peter, he can nearly see it, feel it under his fingers, the feeling of your taut belly under his skin, or the kick of tiny feet against his palm.

“We’ll see, Miggy.” 

We’ll see-- the answer seems too noncommittal, too distant to be a satisfactory answer. With Mayday sound asleep, you settle her between your plush thighs. She expelled bursts of energy that milked her energy dry.

A little old woman passed by, her cane pierced soft grass as she moved closer with a bag of tomatoes and green beans. Her face, aged by time, pulls into a wide smile. He doesn't like her smile.

“You two are doing a great job. How old is she?” 

You blink, looking up into the woman’s cool blue eyes, her dark hair peppered with thick grey and white strands. You tuck Mayday in her soft blanket, sparing the woman a kind smile that Miguel doesn’t quite have the patience for. 

“Oh, oh. Thank you-- um, a couple of months,” you recount, perhaps thinking of Peter’s anxious pacing or his delighted shouts about becoming a father. 

“Adopting is a great option. Back in the day, my husband was a bodybuilder too. Had a low sperm count don’t you know. Steroids shrink things. Oh, but these days you can do all sorts of things like IV--”

A what-- Miguel’s eyes nearly popped out of his skull at the suggestion. Was this old bitch’s suggestion that he couldn’t do it-- couldn’t get you pregnant? He could easily do that. If he wanted you pregnant, you would be shocking pregnant. He’d be damned if some old woman put it in your mind that he couldn’t.

“We’re babysitting for a friend,” he blurts out. “I have--” had, “a daughter.” 

“Oh, do you? I’m sorry. I thought-- well, it doesn’t matter what I thought, have a good day."  

She’s saying that, but it comes out slanted. You don’t bother correcting Miguel, not on this. Rather, your hand inched toward his, picking up on the energy that was pluming from his body in waves. Irritation-- annoyance-- the little old lady hobbles off. You’re in your mind well enough to bid her goodbye. But you know better than to say anything more, slumping your cheek on Miguel’s firm chest. It makes the ache of Gabriella's memory a little more bearable. 

 Low sperm count his ass. 

It bothers him long after Mayday is gone. Peter, for his part, looks refreshed. He supposes that’s what happens with a full day of opportunity to empty your balls after weeks of no relief. It bothers him long after you come back from the kitchen, his favorite dark red slip plastered to your perfect body. It would look beautiful, full of his children— he just knows it. 

“I may have hijacked the kitchen a little bit,” you teased, the waft of warm chicken and brewed spices filled his nose. He had no appetite. “But I made you some pollo guisado.” 

“Hm,” he grunts into a pillow. “Later.”

Beside the bed, he has a bowl of brightly colored condoms. With your sensitivity to birth control, it is the best option available. It wasn’t, however, something he was ever happy about. He should be able to feel your body. Not once had he felt your body pure and unadulterated, warm and perfect for him. He was your husband. He wanted that moment— to fill you up just once, watch his cum dribble out of your cunt. It would be perfect. You set the food away, bowl and spoon clinking together.

“Miguel.” 

Forget your warm body. This room is too quiet. It is almost stifling in its silence. Mayday’s sweet huffs, the memory of Gabriella’s laughter. A proper home full of a child's giggles. He’s going crazy-- he has to be-- this isn’t normal. This isn’t Miguel. 

“Mi vida, don’t pout,” you reach out, rolling your fingers through his long brown hair. Your fingers tease along his scalp, turning around his ear. Your fingers tickle his lobe, your voice cemented in a concern that he wanted nothing more but to fix if it were anything other than this. “Miggy. Miggy, what is wrong? You look sad.”

“I’m not sad,” he says with a whine on his pillow. How silly he must look with his broad arms wound around the body pillow, squeezing its fluff for life. If he said the words well enough, you might believe them. 

“I know you are,” you nudge the pillow loose. He takes you instead, the air thickening with the closeness. You fed off the tension, sliding your leg over the sheet that covers his naked hip. “Tell me why.” 

He turns his hands over your thighs, traveling past your hips to ghost along your belly. 

“Sí, Miggy?” 

“I need…” he trailed off, finding the words nearly impossible to admit. They grow into a ball and cement in his throat, present but stubborn. Rather than break the words free, he swallows a bolus of desire and frustration. “It’s nothing. Let it go.”

The issue was— you loved him enough to let it do so. 

Miguel doesn’t want to press the issue. He knows you. All you want is Miguel’s happiness. Sometimes, he worries it is at the price of your own. The distance he places between you and him is intolerable. It bothers him every time he finds you babysitting Mayday.

Today, while Peter goes on a small date, you and Mayday make his favorite empanadas. She’s covered in a dusting of flour from head to toe. Peter would have fun with that. 

“Miggy you’re back?” you called as Mayday’s chubby hands shot out, nearly plopping off the counter if not for Miguel’s quick reflexes, setting her back in place. 

“Empanadas?” he settles the words in a small kiss to your lips. You glance at him over your shoulder. 

“It's... it's Gabi's birthday, isn't it?"

You’re too good for him. Despite the day coming and going, no one else notices his grief today. Not even Peter who came in alongside him, reading the room, and snatching up Mayday off the countertop. He’s babbling something, a thank you, see you later— you kiss Mayday with only the sweetness a mother could know.  

“Peter! Mayday made these for you,” you reach out to a box of uncooked empanadas. “Take them home!”

Her first empanadas— the delight is palpable. Peter may have snapped a photo, or ten, of his little flour girl on the way out, empanadas in hand. Then there’s silence. Miguel returns the nearly forgotten bundle of empanada dough and filling to the fridge in the space of unspoken tension. Miguel dips down to your neck, caramelized perfume warm on your neck. His lips trace the warm pulse of your neck. 

“Mami,” his voice mesmeric, warm like the filling you used to make him happy when no one else could. Your doting attention, even in the face of real issues like work and babies, was always on him.

"Sí, mi vida?"

His hands coast around your waist, using his strength to gently turn you around. It isn’t important right now. What is important is how he lifts you up onto the floury surface, purring his need into your slight ear. “I want a baby.”

“¿Qué?”

“Una niña,” Miguel leans his fingers along your collarbone. 

“Oh, Miggy.” You puff the words. They come out almost wounded. You know him so well, the vulnerability of the words causing him to look down. Your warm palms cradle his cheeks, forcing him to look into your eyes. “You miss being a father, don't you?”

You’re not stupid. Neither is he. He thought he could wait— watch Mayday grow up and not feel this sundering longing. As though he could stomach never feeling a child in his arms again. The ghosts of the past that came with Mayday’s longing haunt him day by day. 

You devour his insecurity, winding your legs around his waist and forcing him forward. He stumbles into your embrace, as though he were not a man who could decimate villains and spiders alike. When he was here, in your arms, he barely felt like the weapon of a man that he is. 

“Miguel. Speak to me.”

“You’re right,” he can’t lie— can’t hide the longing that comes with the thought of his own child on his chest. Not Mayday, no matter how many times she cuddled up to his chest. At the end of the day, she would never be his. You drew your lip into your mouth, nipping it fat and red, a bob in your head. His heart beats faster, strumming as though it would break free from his chest. Whatever it is you’re thinking he’s not sure. Only that it’s been so long.

“I just want to make you happy, will this make you happy?” you nearly whisper, knowing that there’s no one but him to hear the words. It’s what he wants for you, too. As he stands there, coursing his fingers along your thighs and hiking your dress up your hips, he can’t help but feel the foggy discomfort of forcing you into parenthood before you were ready. 

“It will.”

As well as it could. It would never erase Gabriella-- and, in the vulnerability of begging his wife for another child, came the guilt. Not only the guilt of failing to be a proper father or to protect her but moving on without her in his life to a beautiful family she would have loved. The feelings surge in his chest, a well of uncomfortable emotions in his eyes, threatening to fall. 

“Miguel,” you’re whispering, your fingers cutting across his sharp cheekbones. You cup his face, drawing your lips together in a commanding kiss. You never liked being ignored or forgotten. He’s not sure how he could now, with your tongue flicking between his lips, begging him to come back with a sugary sweet whine. “Stay with me, Miguel.” 

“I am,” he says, gripping either side of the counter by your hips. He feels your eyes on him, soft and careful, pressuring him to meet your gaze. He searches for an inkling of an answer in your gaze. "¿Qué piensas?"

“We can try,” you bite your lip, sliding it free between your teeth. “If you don’t have a low sperm count,” you tease. “Maybe it’ll take.” 

“¡Por dios!” He throws a curse to the side as if he believed in such a being, throwing a look back at you. “You don’t actually believe that vieja.” 

“Ay Miggy, of course not.” His lips work into a budding smile. You leaned up against his stubbly jaw, setting soft kisses there. Your lipstick stains his neck, dragging down to his prominent adam’s apple. He looks down at you with heady eyes, tracing the way you suckled a mark on his throat. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t like them a little more when others noticed them, little marks of possession. Miguel’s fingers come up to the straps of your dress, easing them over and down your slight shoulders. You pull back, words forming puff against his neck. 

“Not right here,” you inhale a soft breath. “Someone could come in.” 

Miguel eases his finger over the small bud of your breast, rolling his thumb along the silken skin, His hand comes up, encompassing your neck and shoving you back into the cabinets. It isn’t comfortable, not by far. He works the nub to its peak before turning his attention to the other. His mouth covers your breast, fangs grazing your nub as he suckled and tugged gently. Miggy, you pull him back up, stripped of your touch. Your hand slide across Miguel’s chest, tracing the taut muscles of his chest. 

“Who would come in?” 

“Peter,” you answer. 

It’s always Peter. He supposes that you wouldn’t want your friend to see you here, cunt stuffed with Miguel on the very same counter you earlier made him empanadas on. Miguel snatched the dress that fell along your hips laxly, utilizing it to yank you off the counter. You fell forward into Miguel, a heavy wall of muscle, your lips failing to form anything of use. You looked at him, cheeks flush and eyes doting, he’s the only one you see. 

“The balcony, then.” 

“Dianche, Miguel! Do you want all of Nueva York to see me?” 

“Maybe.” 

No, but see Miguel breeding you? Undoubtedly yes.

He couldn’t simply choose the bed, that would be too easy. Miguel set a kiss on your forehead, soft and scratchy with his stubble. You return it by dragging him down for another kiss, a wave of warmth coming over him as you force your hips back onto him, rolling your hips against his, teasing him. Miguel doesn’t appreciate the tease and gently pushes on your hips, motioning you to face the counter. 

“Bend over.” 

"Can't we go to my room?" you complain but comply all the same. Miguel’s palm ghosts your spine, dragging his fingers smoothly over the middle of your back and past the dress that gathered around your hips, He strips you of the little cover the dress gave, eager to have you bare and rid of the thin clothing that served as a veil from prying eyes. Miguel can cover you from the prying eyes of others if necessary. Not that he cared if others saw him fucking-- he’s all the more eager to have you all to himself, here and now. 

“No panties,” he notes, his warm hands on your inner thighs. “It’s almost like you knew.” 

“I might have,” you return, spreading your legs obediently for him. He palms your vulva, your hips shifting down over his hand. Sticky and wet, he wonders if his need to breed you has rubbed off on you too. His fingers shift, sliding over your soft hole. “Apúrate Miguel, you’re so slow.”  

“Can’t you be be good for once.”

You were always bossy. He likes it, most the time, being led around by what his pretty little wife wants. Today he wants to take his time, curving his broad fingers into your glistening cunt. Your wetness drips over his knuckles, fingers teasing the velvety soft walls he has never felt without a condom. A pleasured cry wracks in your chest, turning your head over your shoulder to watch Miguel’s fingers stretching you out. No matter how much your walls gave under his fingers, you would still ache when he penetrated you. It was the favourite part, the rich pull of his dick into your hole, bottoming out as best he could in your stomach. He soothes your complaints by grazing his other hand against your perky clitoral hood, finding the soft nub there for relief. You settle your arms on the floured surface.

“I never-- ah-- am,” you threw back.

Miguel slipped his fingers free, cupping your cunt with his palm for a teasing slap. You want to be good-- it’s just so hard, your cunt pulsing in the abswnce of his touch. He drags his sodden fingers to your lips, glazing them in taste of your lubricant. You suckle your tongue around his thick digits, savoring your own taste, his soft grunt of approval spurring you on. You feel like such a good girl with his fingers crooked in your mouth. 

“Are you ready?” Miguel stands fully upright, dragging your hips to his. He’s hard as the counter you were pathetically clinging onto. His hipbones ground into your plush ass, dick pulsing in his immediate ache to feel your cunt. He backs up, fiddling with something at the waist. You don’t need to ask to know that it was his big cock grinding between your cheeks, smearing fluid over your slit.

“No condom?” 

“No condom,” he affirms. You bow your head, nodding gently over the countertop. The head of his cock drove into your wetness, pushing past bundles of nerves. It’s impossibly different without the bag over his dick. It’s been so long. His world blinks out, savoring the feeling like he was an inexperienced teenager again. 

“Carajo, you’re so good,” he finds himself cursing, leaning over your back. 

“Now he says I’m good."

“Shh,” Miguel clips with a mean nip at your nape, lining it with soft kisses, encouraging you on to take him. Warm and wet, Miguel can only describe the slide into your cunt as untethered delight. Released from the bondage of his usual condom, he’s a mess against your soaked cunt, gripping you for a semblance of stability. 

I just want to make you happy. For all your needy complaints and little quips, he knows you do. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here, with your hands cupped on top of his, squeezing for more closeness. Miguel laces your fingers together in a needy weave, drawing back to stroke his cock right back into your wet body. You lead one of his hands between your legs, urging him on to stroke your clit. Your walls clamp down on him, teasing out bursts of pleasure with how deeply he was buried. Miguel’s lips part into a whine of his name, skin slapping against skin. He sets a kiss in the crook of your neck, breath nearly unbearable. 

“Mami,” he gasps, the word coming out between his unstable thrusts. Your eyes shut hard, sparks of pleasure winding and building in your core. “Give me a baby.”

“Sí papi,” you heave, “I”m trying to.”

Miguel knows what you like-- and you like him desperate. His voice so low and rich that you gush around his swollen length, falling apart below him. He catches your body from dropping in an instant, his thighs shaking as he works you through the fibers of gentle pleasure. Hot pressure builds low in his stomach. 

“Qué bella eres. I’m going to finish, fill you and knock you up,” he whispers, drawing himself free and admiring the hazy space of pleasure and reality. Miguel turns you back to face him. You think you may complain-- you didn’t cum, or something of the sort. He shifts you to sit on the counter, spreading your vulva for inspection. Miguel spat on your cunt, rolling his fingers over the swollen folds to spread you apart. He slipped into the space between your shaking legs. You felt him thrust into your body hard and sharp. Your hands reached out, dragging Miguel’s shoulders forward, clinging onto his body. 

It comes all at once, Miguel’s stuttering thrust forward, a deep groan filling the kitchen, his hand clasped onto your thigh so hard you know he’ll bruise it. You catch his moan in a kiss he doesn’t reciprocate, buried so deep in your body that all he can think to do is to force you to take all of it. He shakes himself free of the web of pleasure that he’s enveloped in, looking at you past the thin rivulets of sweat you wiped away with your loving thumbs. 

“I think there are better positions for baby making,” you lean in, kissing him gently. He returns the kiss this time, eyes light of the strain and stress of the last few days.  “Like… not this.” 

Miguel pulls back, his soft cock slipping free from your warm entrance. Miguel watches as his seed dribbles from your hole, grunting in acknowledgement. He swipes your mixed fluids and rolls it between his fingers. 

“I’m open to suggestions.” 

He loves his wife. More than anything. What he doesn’t love is how Peter seems to know that you’re trying for a baby.

The thing about having a woman from his same cultura was this: you loved to talk with your best friend. Who, just so happened to be Peter. He doesn’t even have to say anything, just staring at him with a quirk on his lip and a terrible glitter in his eye after he’s resolved another meeting.

“Hey, Miguel.” 

“Don’t start.” 

He’s crowded with work at his desk-- he has no time for Mayday’s curious little eyes to glitter at him, Peter to be doing that shit he did when he wanted to be helpful. He offered his hands up, shrugging. 

“I’m just saying! I’m a man, you’re a man,” he mumbles, inching a little closer and closer. “If you want a baby--” 

“Let me guess. She told you.” 

“Mayday could use a spider buddy,” he held Mayday up, out of her carrier. Miguel glanced down at her wild hair, exhaling air out of his nose with a little huff. “Sooner than later?” 

“I’ve done it before,” Miguel throws back. “I know how to knock up my own wife, Peter. I don’t need help.”  

Peter is offering help as if Miguel hadn’t tasted the changes in your body when he ate you out. Never mind that he saw you nauseated this morning, too sick to handle a call that Miguel promptly answered. He knew his seed had stuck-- you wouldn’t feel so miserable otherwise. It doesn’t matter, he’d answer them all if it meant another little one in his arms at the end of it all. Just so long as you and the baby were safe. 

“Are you sure? I know--” 

“I’m damn sure.” Miguel turned around, his head in his hand. “I’ve had enough of you. Why don’t you do something useful? Bring her something for her morning sickness.” 

“Oh,” realization fell over Peter like a hammer, looking down to Mayday who looked right back up to her father. For all that Peter knew about his love life, he was shocked that you hadn’t told him how awful the smell of breakfast meat made you feel. His hand fell away, a film of pride slipping from his practiced features when Peter spoke. “But... She’s already pregnant?” 

He leers. Peter scuttles away. 

Privacy is important to Miguel. You knew the damn rule. No telling Peter about the inner workings of your bedroom. For that, you were going to fucking get it. You likely knew you were going to get it-- even if you were likely already pregnant.

He can’t wait.

[kates-dump]

My experience with Analog Horror/ARGs and why you should check them out

Marble Hornets: the classic, and a big favorite of mine for obvious reasons. I cannot stress enough how good and spooky that series is, and the ToTheArk videos gave me nightmares, love it! <3

If you're into Slenderman stories, you should definitely check it out. The acting is very well done and the story is awesome overall :)

The Sun Vanished: the ARG that started my interest for ARGs, and especially enigmas/internet puzzles. Unfortunately I was not smart enough to figure the stuff out by myself, so I just watched explanations on it. Highly recommended if you like post-apocalyptic settings and subtle horror.

The Mandela Catalogue: possibly the series that brought back my interest for these things. I have only watched the first two seasons of it, as I sadly lost interest after a while, but from what I have watched, I would recommend it to those of you who like horror with religious themes (which is a big thing for me) and most importantly, trust issues. Do keep in mind this series deals with more serious and dark topics, though you have probably heard it already.

Local58: the analog horror of all analog horrors, Local58 barged in before TMC took the spotlight. There is so much going on and all of it is very interesting and scary. America's pride leads to its doom, the moon can control electronic devices, and weird creatures spread through the world. If you like stories that leave you not understanding what the hell just happened but loving it anyway, you will love Local58.

Rocket Archives: A single-video series that has unfortunately been taken down for reasons I am not certain of. But if you're curious what it was about, the video presented a reality where us humans were forced to leave Earth with how hot it was getting, and moved to contained bubbles in space. Suddenly, uh oh! The sun's getting closer! Outer Wilds moment! Everything is melting! Humans are gone and the sun is... alive???

Analog Archives: made by the creator of Rocket Archives, has also been taken down but can still be found re-uploaded. The series is slightly similar to Local58, as in it also focuses on broadcast hijacking used for ending off humans. The series also includes a few religious topics that can get very dark. I love it. "Nature Show" makes me tear up with fear every time.

Gemini Home Entertainment: ALL-TIME FAVORITE MOMENT!!! I don't think I need to explain why I love this one so much. GHE leaves a lot to your imagination/speculation, while also twisting your head directly into the direction of the threat and forcing you to look at it while you squirm in fear. GHE is subtle in the most obvious way, obvious in the most subtle way, and most importantly, IT'S COSMIC HORROR, BABY!!! THERE IS A PLANET IN OUR SOLAR SYSTEM THAT GOT HERE UNINVITED AND NOW IT WANTS TO EAT US!!! UGHHHH I can't put in words why I think it's so good, it just is. Watch it. The Gardeners are cute, I swear. There's even a plush of them.

Monument Mythos: something something alternate realities, something something time loops. I have not watched all of it, barely even half, but I deemed it a little bit too confusing for my brain. BUT! If you're into things that boogle your mind, you might really like this series! I mean, world monuments are alive, what could be scarier?

Vita Carnis: EW. (affectionate)

But, seriously, if you like gross, you are certainly going to like this series. It's meat, and it's alive. Although, I did stop watching it because it got a tad too graphic and violent for my taste, but if that doesn't bother you, then I recommend it a lot! The editing is soooo good, and some of the creatures are very likable and cute ^v^ (the others are gross and I do not want them near me I do not WANT FUCK OFF)

Don't Look at the Moon: Minecraft spooky. Do I need to say more?

[alolanroy]

2023 Media Thread Pt3

Sharkula: Finding out that this director cranks out like 8 of these a year makes so much sense. The editing and effects are bafflingly amateur, and by that I mean I don't know how you can make something this inept in good faith. The casting is...concerning. I'm not referring to the 'college students' that look like weekend warriors, I mean that a certain character clearly had some sort of disorder, and it felt pretty exploitative. Funny bad in a pathetic sort of way. -6/10

Sharkenstein: We wanted to see more, but it turns out that instead of a fountain of infine fun-bad, it was just bad. At east the Franken-shark was a Nazi also somehow -3/10

Ronin Mecha 3: Space Warrior: This is the kind of incoherent bootleg movie that makes you feel drunk and delirious from laughing too much. Literally nothing from this poster appears, but I did have an episode when I saw a Scope Dogg. -7/10

Mighty Lady Sparkle: I admire the passion for tokusatsu but I don't admire the ecchi. It's the kind of movie where you start the movie proposing drinking games over its quirks but 20 minutes in you feel uncomfortable. -2/10

Boneworks: It took a bit for it to click for me, but Stress Level Zero made a really impressive standard for VR gunplay and exploration. That being said, some of the physics takes a bit to get used to and if you don't have good VR legs, this game would be borderline unplayable. The physics puzzles and level design aren't quite up to the valve standard they are trying to live up to, the former being groan worthy at times, but the gun handling is fun enough that I was interested in playing some of the alternate game modes. The confused and underwhelming ending left it on an odd note, but I had a blast/ 7.5/10

Netflix One Piece: Sometimes the performances just don't work and the dialogue doesn't quite hit the mark. However it made me understand the appeal of One Piece and I gotta give props to the costuming, makeup and the few actors that understood the assignment. 7.5/10

The Amazing Digital Circuis Pilot: There is a distinction between marketable and appealing. Content can be made with the intent of being white noise. Nice rendering I guess. These are ideas that can coexist. 2/10

Bakuryuu Sentai Abaranger 20th: The Unforgivable Abare: I was initially afraid that this would be 'abaranger vs the woke mob' I was pleasantly surprised by humor and some out of left field GL. Can't complain 6/10

X-Files Revival: I'm not gonna sugarcoat it. While a few of the comedic episodes were absolute gold, This was pretty sad. Its attempts to stay topical somehow make it more dated than the 90s seasons did. Unfortunately trying to be hip left me with a toothless 16 episodes made mostly of mythology episodes that are clearly supposed to go a whole lotta nowhere. 4/10

Gundam Build Metaverse: Never before has a 10th anniversary season made me feel so old and hopeless. The first episode left me hopeful when it delivered a premise I could see blossoming into a good 15-ish episode show with the occasional cameo and a laid-back Hawaiian attitude to my favorite hobby. The OP and ED promised a good balance of modeling, character cameos, and original drama. Then the last two episodes dropped at once after a two-week gap. That was it. It introduced its antagonist as quickly as she was resolved. Most cameos were still images if they appeared. No one is the right age. The new toys are dispatched so quickly it fails as a toy commercial. This had to have gone through development troubles because of the botched 'metaverse' spawned by the Japanese grants they were handing out...right? I huffed the copium and just got a confusing meh. 5/10

DOA Dead or Alive: Finally, a fighting game movie adaptation that understands the assignment! It's dumb! It's campy! It's exploitative and oggling but in a way that respects its subjects more than most 2000's movies in this genre. It almost loops around to being oddly empowering, an opinion seconded by my girlfriends hooting and hollering at the movie. While one performance was funny bad, any martial arts movie with a ladder fight is great in my book. 8/10

The Last Witch Hunter: Rarely does a vanity projects with someones D&D characters end up this fun. It ranks highly for me in the subgenre of modern-day supernatural hunter movies in an urban setting. Rock solid movie. 7.5/10

Analog Horror Grab Bag: What if a VHS was spoooooooky. Look buddy, mashing MarbleHornets and Exploding Varmits together gets less novel the longer you watch 4/10

Haunting in Venice: I'm not familiar with the original story, but this was a fun and spooky watch. 7/10

Godzilla vs Megalon (2023): I enjoyed the moments of Shin Godzilla cinematography, but mixed with showa-era goofy moves and shonen combat, this short didn't work for me. The chunky soup didn't benefit from an art style that created my least favorite Godzilla design. 5/10

Fest Godzilla 4: Operation Jet Jaguar: RETURN OF DA KING BABYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE SHOWA IS BACK IN A BIG WAY 7/10

Pistol Whip: Maybe it was the triggers on my controllers but the timing just felt weirdly off. Trying to deliberately juke the timing killed the rhythm game magic and made me feel more like I was waiting for permission to get the bad guys. The John Wick fantasy this is clearly built for wasn't lost on me though, but without that immersion, I just felt bad. Totally subjectively a 3.5/10

Ultraman Netflix Final Season: I don't really get the appeal of public opinion narratives the way anime seems to make them. Similarly, I don't like when noir stories depend on all of the protagonist's friends requiring zero evidence to turn on them at the drop of a hat. Especially when neither party really attempts to talk it out. Its bad writing and a dub with all of the industries bad habits held up by A really hot alien and a funny magical girl transformation that one time. 4/10

Gundam Trilogy Rewatch: Watched this with two friends who were seeing them for the first time. God these things hold up, especially the 3rd one. Incredible stuff. I and II are a 7/10 for me for good content with weird pacing and III is a 9/10 for great writing and drama. Reanimated sections weren't anything to scoff at either

Skyrim 2nd playthrough: I'll say a playthrough where I know what I'm doing and isn't as sidetracked was better at letting me enjoy the setpieces, I think that without the interstitial wanderlust from the feeling of adventuring a new land, something didn't hit the same. However bringing Sarana(SDA), Lydia(IFD) and a few other talking followers added a certain spice to it. An observation I missed the first time was how hard it pushes you interact with some of the factions in a way I think kinda cheapens their organic introductions.

Armored Trooper Votoms: I reductively pitched this show to someone as the midpoint between Gundam and 40K. There's a lot to love with this series: Gorgeous visuals, concise episodes, and the confidence to change its setting periodically to fun locales like Arakis or Vietnam. Chiricho is a unique protagonist who pulls off the Sigma Male archetype with depth and soul. I was pretty enamored with this from an aesthetic standpoint, but I'm not blind to its flaws. The society is a weak antagonist once they are revealed and the pacing drags as it repeats itself to buy time. While ATs are iconic, they aren't always used with the variety they deserve. While maybe only half the series lives up to this score: 8/10

Knights of the Zodiac 2023: I think this might actually be worst live action anime adaptation to date. Never before have I seen any less interest in adapting the source material than this. I can usually find something to like in a bad movie, but for this I have nothing. Maybe I felt something when we all laughed at the Jump Force cutscenes they used as fight scenes. There's just nothing here. 0/10

Oblivion Override Demo: Ever play Dead Cells? it sure is that with vector graphics. My weakness for this type of robot design puts in most of the work here. movement feels a bit off. 4/10

Half Life 2: VR Mod

-As a way to replay half Life 2: Yep, this is still one of the most important games ever. However, I think that the vehicle sections go on a bit too long and subsequent entries did a lot to improve the visual sameness of a lot of the game 9/10

-As a VR game: Gun handling is excellent. Accessibility options like laser sights for all weapons were fantastic, and they let me help smooth out my own learning curve with the weapons. I will say that weapon selection and two handed aiming was a little cumbersome at times, but weapon reloading was the perfect amount of cumbersome to be satisfying. Even though the game itself didn't get rebalanced to accommodate for VR, it all meshed for a really fun and challenging experience. However vehicle controls were kinda weird and not that great standing. 8/10

Votoms: The Last Red Shoulder: I've come to the conclusion that the real enemy of Votoms wasn't Wiseman, it was the 24 minute episode format. more breathing room meant better pacing and time to really drink in the kino.7.5/10

Cade: The Tortured Crossing: In an incredible stroke of luck I was able to see a Niel Breen film in theaters and I will not lie: it was amazing. The audience was a riot and I nearly passed out from laughter a few times. The editing was surreal and I could see how this was probably stretched from an hour and a half to two hours in the edit. I will not regret giving it an -10/10

Kengan Ashura S2 (???): The real villain is Netflix's release structure. This is one season of anime I saw at a convention like 4 years ago. Its pretty alright. It's competent 6/10

The Mummy 2017: This movie has been a punching bag, both because of the presumptuous launch of the 'dark universe' and also that one trailer that was posted with unfinished sound. Unfortunately, the movie itself is pretty alright and I would like to see more. Plus one point for American Werewolf in London but I take that point away again for another mischaracterization of Dr.Jekyl. 6/10

Votoms Big Battle: Neat stuff. real standout is the fun character design and animation. I also liked the touch of the filter over the villains voice. It kinda hints at how much of a machine he is at that point. 7.5/10

Attack on Titan Final Season part 3: I don't think the ending was bad for the reasons a lot of people say, but I can tell it beefs it in the final chapter. Everything up to that is incredible, Especially the bit with the baseball. Sadly I think the sour note with Mikasa and the tree was an interesting choice that really didn't work out and spoiled it for me a bit. 7.5/10

Attack on titan as a whole... It took a decade. The times weren't always great, but they sure were had. It is politically dense enough that everyone has a half-baked opinion. When it hits, it hits HARD. I think an 8/10. I don't think I was ever bored for a minute.

Godzilla Minus One: I often find myself drawn to the mood of the original Godzilla. Sometimes I wonder if the constraints of its time allows the mind to fill in the gaps. This movie provides us no quarter to do so. It replicates this horror without leaving any to chance. I think this because more than any other in this series, the stakes feel truely desperate and personal. This felt like watching one of those truelly classic films for the first time (oddly enough I was reminded of Jaws...) I'm not sure if it surpasses Shin or the 1954 original yet, but I give this movie a 10/10 with no hesitation.

Knights of Sidonia (Manga): I'll be honest, the first few chapters did a lot to turn me away the first time I tried this, but this series is certainly not the collection of anime tropes I expected. The art is amazing once Tsutomu Nihei hits his stride. The intricate detailing and compositions have to be seen to be believed. I will applaud it for leaving a lot of room to breathe. Most wouldn't resist overexplaining the aliens. The interpersonal story is pretty gutsy, especially considering the resolution to the romantic angle and some surprisingly not weird treatment of characters with fluid genders. However, I think a lot of characters fell through the cracks in favor of the harem angle that was starting to develop (typified by the robot tsundere who felt really unnecessary). 7.5/10

Furi Demake: I get that this is just a little fun proof of concept, ut the Game Bakers kinda under-prooved a few important parts. Namely, the music is generic and the hit hit detection for parrying was wonky. EX: a ground slam you are supposed to parry from right below confused the directional inputs since it can't figure out which way you are facing. 6/10 but I would play a full version of this concept.

Jetborne Racing and Star Trek Bridge Crew: Early VR games with a predominant online component, slow gameplay and wonky controls? in 2023? Yeah Jetborne is unplayable since there's no one online and Bridge Crew is just unintuitive to play. Instead of space mysteries the gameplay consists of figuring out how to undo your space-parking brake 2/10

[mickeys-malarkey]

BATDR Analysis/Post-Playthrough Theory Revision Pt. 4/4: Guess what? I found some more highly suspicious songs…

So, let's add some nice, juicy lyric/film analysis to our dish (sorry, Betty, I couldn't resist the joke rofl… Speaking of Betty's comment, “all those juicy, lovely books gone to waste. Only Keepers go in there these days, and they'll tear you apart limb from limb if Wilson isn't with you…” sure sounds like the fandom simultaneously lamenting that all the Bendy books are supposedly “no longer canon” after the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr.'s so-called “retcons” and, in a few cases I've seen, getting downright vicious towards anyone who tries to dig back into them)!! I'm very excited about how perfectly these wound up matching my theories, I had all but the first one in a playlist to watch/listen to later, and when I did and re-watched/re-listened to the first after writing Parts Two and Three? Wowzah… 👀

Before we start, summaries in case you haven't read/recaps because it's been a while since I posted the other parts.

(Sorry again that this part took so much longer to repost than expected… I live in shame.)

Part One: Wilson and Audrey have been trapped in their time loop for at least a year of real-world time, the game is actually taking place sometime between 1974 and 1992, and the beginning of BATDR is just a replay of June 18, 1973 like how the ending of BATIM is just a replay of August 1963 (there's also still all the evidence in my original analysis/theory that suggests BATIM and BATDR are both taking place sometime between 1978 and 1991, so do with that what you will). Also, there's definitely only ever been one studio and timeline, it's just that multiple entities have been editing everything beyond recognition (mostly Nathan Sr., whose alteration of the Ink Dimension is definitely symbolic of gaslighting, which I continue touching on throughout, but especially in the next part, which is my personal favorite).

Part Two: Wilson told us his entire life story and explained how his dad always was and still is the true villain to us in riddle format (which The Mug and the Maiden is the key to starting deciphering). Information he divulges includes but certainly is not limited to:

Arch Familial Dysfunction (Understatement of the Century): Wilson is the younger half-brother of Nathan Jr. from an affair that Nathan Sr. had with their housekeeper in 1926 (yes, the year before Joey reunited with him at the Sparkle Unicorn in 1927 and he was looking for girls to dance with there; dude's a serial adulterer). It's heavily implied that Nathan Sr. was not just emotionally but also physically abusive of him, that he was the cause of those big honking scars of his.

Power Dynamics: while Nathan Sr. was never officially involved in JDS, he was always pulling strings behind the curtain, to the point that it's accurate to describe him as one of the Three Kings of JDS (the other two obviously being Henry and Joey); we're given intimate details of how manipulative he is, including that it was under his influence that Joey claimed responsibility for horrible things that he didn't actually do.

The Truth About TLO: Joey and Allison were in Atlantic City schmoozing Bill's dad in order to get out from under Nathan Sr.'s thumb after the events of and since DCTL knocked sense into them, but Nathan Sr. retaliated by orchestrating all of the events that lead to Bill's “death” so that Mr. Chambers would instead put a price on Joey's head and they'd have no choice but to come crawling back to him for protection from he who they thought would be their way out.

Wilson's Corruption Arc: Wilson spent his youth watching his dad's machinations from the shadows and warning people through riddles so that Nathan Sr. wouldn't realize what he was doing; when Joey created the hivemind, he connected to it in order to do this more easily. This is how he was actually involved in the events/writing of TLO and DCTL. Unfortunately, his dad caught him by the end of TLO because he'd done a little orchestration of his own to lure a wildcard – Brant Morris – into the mix in hopes of exposing Nathan Sr. to the world and he was punished, starting him on a decades-long journey to Murder Puppet/Decoy Villain status that eventually involved Nathan Sr. ordering his mom (again, the housekeeper, not Tessa Arch) to put him through some sort of obedience test and then drug him so that he would be there when the crate containing the Ink Machine “accidentally” broke. He wrote The Mug and the Maiden to Audrey (like Buddy wrote DCTL to Dot and, as I previously theorized, Joey wrote TIOL to Henry) under the unsubtle pen name of “Wilton,” taking inspiration from her childhood memories of a toy (the Cracked Mug) that reminded her of her dad (like how he took inspiration from Bill's memories of Alice in Wonderland for the riddles he sent to him, Constance, and Brant) as a last, desperate cry for help before his own dad finally finished turning him into a Murder Puppet (like how TIOL was a cry for Henry to come save Joey from Nathan Sr. before he did the same to him and DCTL was a cry for Dot to stop Joey and save everyone else before his mind was overtaken by Boris's).

True Identities: the Memory of Joey is actually either a puppet created and controlled by Nathan Sr. or just straight-up Nathan Sr. in disguise; he symbolizes the image of Joey that Nathan Sr. has carefully curated and ingrained into the public's memory. Meanwhile, Bendy is actually the real Joey Drew, forced back into the Murder Puppet/Decoy Villain role by Nathan Sr. postmortem but most definitely not the real monster; Dapper Bendy symbolizes the side of him that did his best to heal from what Nathan Sr. did to him and be a good uncle/father and friend and that Nathan Sr. brainwashed him into hating and suppressing, Freaky Teeth Bendy symbolizes the habitual remnants of his maladaptive coping mechanisms formed by decades of being manipulated and abused by the man in question which he doesn't want to be, anymore.

Signs To Watch Out For: does something about the story make no sense (e.g., facts like dates and how the heck the ink actually works aren't matching up, an event gets called out as as weird/odd/strange only to have questions about it brushed aside, characters seem to have very different thoughts/feelings/motivations in one game/book than in another, an event gets written off as accident/coincidence/fate, etc.)? Great news /s! That's a sign of Nathan Sr.'s interference. Also, if a character seemingly randomly says something weird/odd/strange, that's a sign that Wilson's sending us a warning riddle through them (especially if it gets directly called out as weird/odd/strange).

Part Three: Henry and Allison's so-called “story retcons” are actually blatant lies made up by Nathan Sr. to keep Bendy/Real Joey trapped and at odds with his two real best friends postmortem (and put icing on the torment cake by allowing those friends to still be friends with each other but not him); the truth appears to be that Joey did call Henry for help but Nathan Sr. had him murdered, and then Allison tried to switch sides for good and help Joey through recovery as a fellow reformed abuse-victim-turned-abuser, so of course Nathan Sr. also had her and Tom murdered. Audrey is neither a soulless ink creature nor a sacrificed human but instead has her own, completely new soul created from pieces of Henry and Joey's via the same ghostly soul-combination process that creates all “children of the darkness/Machine” (many of whom seem to be hiding messages in their audio logs/memos in order to rat Nathan Sr. out on their parents' behalves), making her Henry and Joey's daughter (Henry, Bendy/Real Joey, the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr., Wilson, and Audrey also appear to be the most powerful beings in the Ink Dimension because all souls are combinations of pieces of one's parents' souls in the Bendyverse, so all five of them have Royal Souls). Porter and Heidi are not Audrey's siblings, they were given their powers by the Memory of Joey in order to push us towards thinking that Joey was a cruel uncle/father who discarded the failed Audreys when he got sick of taking care of them (when, in reality, Joey was a very loving father who cherished every second with his baby girl and fought for her to have a better life than he did even though he made mistakes due to decades of being trapped in survival mode [e.g., having Audrey call him “uncle” in her previous reincarnations in order to cope with the grief of her dying over and over due to only having a partial soul] and it's actually Nathan Sr. who was the irredeemably evil dad, straight-up celebrating when they found Wilson's dead body on the floor of his JDS museum); Gent CEO Alan/Allen Gray/Grey appears to also be a child of the darkness/Machine, the son of Tom and possibly either Allison, Bertrum, or Nathan Sr. (who's definitely rewriting history to include Mr. Gray/Grey as one of his many Decoy Villains, regardless of whether he's his other parent or not), Grace the daughter of Norman and possibly Shawn, Heidi the daughter of Allison and Susie, and Steve the son of Wally and Tom. Bendy/Real Joey being the center of the hivemind and anyone infected with the right kind of ink becoming a personification of part of his psyche has confirmation out the wazoo, except it seems that Norman, specifically, may have become a personification of part of Wilson's psyche just because he's very powerful, himself, as another JDS Royal. “Cyclebreaker” doesn't seem to truly mean “person who can reset the loop,” but instead “person capable of breaking the cycle of trauma/abuse,” and Wilson's Keepers seem to be called that because Nathan Sr. gave them orders to ensure that his son continues obeying and remove anyone who might help him recover from what he did to him from the picture.

Both Parts Two & Three: many scenes appear to be heavily symbolic of or just straight-up Audrey leaning on/being tempted to lean on Joey's maladaptive coping mechanisms generational trauma-style and having a choice between cruelty and compassion. There's also quite a bit of evidence pointing towards Joey having intended the Ink Dimension to be a heavenly paradise for the salvation of suffering people (especially his fellow victims-of-Nathan-Sr. and people that Nathan Sr. used him and his studio to hurt/disappear), but Nathan Sr. having sadistically hijacked it and created the End Reel in the process of twisting it into a hellish prison to continue torturing his victims in postmortem (especially Joey).

Real quick, some thoughts I had while working on fanarts:

The cheese store man (from The Mug and the Maiden) may symbolize Porter and Steve McGregor in addition to all observers of the Joey-and-Nathan Sr. situation (a giant man with bits of cheese stuck in his beard? Sounds like Big Steve with all those bits of metal and whatnot that he eats stuck in his body. An old man with a long beard and ropes around him? Sounds like Porter, who got stuck in a pipe just like how Brant/Mr. Darble Mouse got stuck under the secret door in the warehouse basement/Governor's cellar… And the cheese store man knows the widow's real name but she calls him by the wrong one? Porter's definitely Brant Morris using a different name and he may have actually spied on the Memory of Joey in order to tattle on him, I love him even more now. Also… Brant/Porter is totally a personification of Wilson's sense of humor in addition to Joey's shame. Brant's the funniest character in TLO, Porter's downright mirthful about everything, Wilson/Wilton wrote the funniest fairytale I've ever read in my life… they also both apparently dealt with early hair thinning, interestingly), trying to push us towards investigating them in order to expose Nathan Sr.'s Fake Siblings plot.

The Decoy Villain and their Keeper dynamic is actually something we see repeatedly across Nathan Sr.'s victims, especially when the torch is about to be passed from one Decoy Villain to another… Arthur was Isabel's Keeper when it was time for her to kill Walter, Allison was Joey's Keeper when it was time for him to turn his employees into ink creatures (turning several into fellow Decoy Villains in the process), mayhaps we could even say that whoever figured out how to create the Slugs was Chef Buck's Keeper when it was time for him to start his “recycling” spree… and Heidi is Mr. Gray/Grey's Keeper now that it's time for him to take over from Wilson? 👀👀

“We're in the final days here. I can tell. People are packing things into boxes. Tools are going missing. You can smell the panic in the air around the studio. But us Gent boys, we're just watching from the shadows. We lock the doors, and keep our research going. Mister Gray already gave us a little wink. All is well. When one ship sinks, another one leaves the dock. I just need to keep my Ink Machine safe in the chaos. It's the key to so many discoveries.” ~ Thomas Connor, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Business as Usual” memo (emphasis added)

“It's a funny thing. How so much can fall apart so fast. We never really had control at the studio. Either you were in someone's pocket, or you were putting someone else into yours. I just wanted what was promised to me. I just wanted to be beautiful! Surely you can understand that. Henry… Why are you here? We're all dying to find out. Do you just enjoy the terror of the drop into hell? Because if that's the case… Hang on tight. I've got a surprise…” ~ Twisted Alice, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 4

Wilson's BATDS audio log was 100% about him wanting to pass on his secrets before his dad could silence him completely and forever in death as he did to so many others, just like how Joey managed to leave clues about the reality of the whole situation behind despite everything.

“It's important to seize an opportunity, before it slides through your wrenched fingers. The past so often dies without passing on its bountiful secrets. But oh… Mister Joey Drew. The secrets you've left behind. How very interesting, such… knowledge, such… opportunity. The time draws near… For a dark revival to come at last!” ~ Wilson Arch, Boris and the Dark Survival (emphasis added)

…Welp, now that that's out of the way, on with the show!

I believe that this one, released back in July (close to when you would've expected the Bendy Twitter to release a third teaser image), is supposed to have been written by Wilson:

*Dapper Bendy bounce-dances in what looks to be part of BATIM Chapter 1 as it looked when the Memory of Joey brought Audrey there* “Under foot, have you looked, where the light don't shine no more? Here's a hook, what it took, to break their spirits and yours” *Dapper Bendy rests against a pipe in what looks to be the sewers in BATDR but with the contraband display case from outside the Pit in the Cyclebreaker prison* “Didja make, give or take, a bigger difference away? Didja break, didja quake, when you saw what's really at play?”

This sounds like the singer's asking us if we've read the Bendy books and looked for clues in the other games – all of which the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr. is distracting us from with his erasure of Allison's existence, writing Mr. Gray/Grey into the story, etc. – and directing us to read The Mug and the Maiden for the explanations of events that we need. They then seem to be giving us confirmation that Wilson, Joey, and eventually Allison were trying to make things better from the inside and asking them if they broke when A: Buddy's death at the end of DCTL made Joey realize how Nathan Sr. was going to keep on using him to hurt people despite his best efforts, B: Allison experienced whatever it was that woke her up from Nathan Sr.'s trance in-between DCTL and TLO, and C: Wilson was punished at the end of TLO for learning too much and being a good boy, all while also D: acknowledging Audrey's ghostly origins and generational trauma??

*Dapper Bendy bounce-dances in what looks to be another part of BATIM Chapter 1 as it looked when the Memory of Joey brought Audrey there* “When it started, this commotion, this great disaster, what a brilliant revelation, what he's really after”

This sounds like Wilson realizing why his dad was doing what he was doing to Bill, Constance, and Brant by the time TLO ended!! “For it was the death of Mr. Darble Mouse that started all the trouble.”

*Dapper Bendy sits on a table in what looks to be the Little Devil Lounge, behind him is a buffet sign with graffiti that reads “Fetty was here,” which could be “Betty” with part of the “B” smudged off??* “It's a daily shift of churning, burning down the candle, it's more than we can handle”

Did you just confirm that Wilson's mom indeed drugged him as part of Nathan Sr.'s plot to punish him for warning people about his machinations and turn him into a Murder Puppet with your environment design, and then that everything was more than Joey, Allison, and finally Wilson could handle with your lyrics?? Which, y'know, now I think about it, honestly gives whole new meaning to TLO's epilogue…

“Swirling blackness wrapped so tightly, at first like a hug and then it squeezes, it crushes, it smothers . . . A quiet buzz, then louder, like a thousand voices talking at once. Screaming at once. Outside and inside. Our thoughts are not our own thoughts. Whose thoughts are these? How many of us are there? How many more will join us? We are all screaming. We are all waiting. We are all… lost. The light appears in sudden bursts. Too bright, it pierces at you, tears you apart even as you reach for it. What is there to reach for? Why hurt yourself? Just sink back. Sink back in with your friends. . . . We sink back and back and back. We understand now. We see how all this time we were wrong. We understand the joke now. Knock knock. Who's there? We can't fix the machine. We never could. Knock knock. Who's there? Who is there? Out there? Out here? We're all here. We understand now. It's the punchline to the joke: You can't fix what isn't broken.” ~ The Ink Machine('s Hivemind), Bendy: The Lost Ones, pg. 290-291 (emphasis added)

I think that this was the hivemind poetically describing what happened to Joey, Allison, and Wilson at the end of TLO, and to who knows how many more puppets and other victims Nathan Sr. collected over the previous and following decades: This man, who seems perfectly friendly on the surface, turns out to be an abuser once you're caught in his vice-like grip. His victims seek freedom, salvation, genuine love, even try to provide it to each other, but are punished for doing so, often alongside those who they tried to reach out to (e.g., Bill and his dad, Henry, etc). Eventually, they're trained to see potential help/etc. as something painful that they shouldn't even bother with, and learn to think that they should just allow themselves to sink back into obedience, because at least that hurts a little less. They understand, now, that they can't fix the Ink Machine, because just like every other thing they, themselves, intended to be good, Nathan Sr. intended it to only hurt them more. And he thoroughly enjoys watching them struggle, only to finally give in to him… Terrible. Dreadful. I'm sad, again. *Sniffs* Back to the music.

*Dapper Bendy is falling, possible reference to both the “falling down the rabbit hole” message Constance received from Wilson and Audrey's falling down the elevator shaft to where she meets the Memory of Joey and is set back on the path of meeting Wilson in his ink mansion* “So come on a ride! Further down below! And learn the prophesy of the hypocrisy that runs this broken show!”

“Come find me, Audrey. Come find me and I'll show you your purpose. I'll show you… the truth. And now… we die,” and learn the prophesy of Nathan Sr.'s puppeteering hypocrisy through Wilson/Wilton's twisted riddles??

“There's nowhere to hide! There's nowhere to go! You brought the hallway to a standstill, now the desolation grows”

This sounds like it's referencing Nathan Sr.'s not allowing anyone to escape and reality/memory alteration??

*Audrey wielding a pipe appears. Behind her, in the top right corner, “Jose[scribble],” presumably Joey's legal name “Joseph” scribbled out, is written in black ink; underneath that, written in the golden invisible ink, is the word “Life” with a halo, a dotted line like on a cartoon pirate treasure map that leads to an anarchy symbol that could also be being used as a certain family's last initial (Arch), and the letter “D,” presumably beginning “Death,” with devil horns. On the far left, in the same golden ink, is drawn a key* “Well it took, just a look, to see it wasn't the same, wrote the book, then he took, all the fortune and all the fame” *Audrey's now somewhere kinda nondescript other than signs pointing to the Art Department and a “Devil Cafe,” possibly a work-in-progress placeholder for the Little Devil Lounge* “Broke a tie, let it die, the love that made him a king, tell me now, can you find, the end to pull on this string?”

“Open your eyes and look around you! None of this ‘makes sense,’” yeah, I think I know exactly where the end of this (shall we say “puppet?”) string is: right there in Nathan Sr.'s hand!! This looks and sounds like confirmation that the version of Joey's story that everyone knows, the one that makes no sense because nothing matches up, was written by the Great Puppet Master, the Second of the Three Kings of JDS, Nathan Sr., as Wilson explained in that rant I just quoted!!! While also confirming that Nathan Sr. has forced Joey back into the Decoy Villain role postmortem as Bendy?!

*Audrey's now somewhere littered with toon carcasses like what Henry and Boris encounter all over Twisted Alice's territory in BATIM and BATDS* “Something in you brought you back here into your history, it's no mystery why your feelings seem so contradictory”

This sounds like it's acknowledging both Joey's seeming emotional/motivational contradictions under Nathan Sr.'s influence and Audrey's emotional conflicts being caused by the pieces of the First and Third Kings of JDS's souls that make up her own???

*Slow zoom on a door with a Gent pipe lock* “It was love that built this testament to artistry, warped by hate and trickery!”

Confirmation that the Ink Dimension was indeed created for Joey's regret and corrupted for Nathan Sr.'s revenge?!

*Chorus repeats with Audrey in an elevator until after the prophesy line* “Why have you arrived? Is there something you know?”

Confirmation of Nathan Sr.'s mafia-style disappearing of potential info leaks?? Perhaps even of the Insane Reader Ending being Audrey getting disappeared for knowing too much???

“Will hope or desolation be the seeds that you will sow?”

I think y'all will see why this line is fascinating in the analysis/theory conclusion… 👀

*Shot of Sammy, Boris, and a boatload of Lost Ones huddled around a flaming barrel like we see the Butcher Gang huddle around in BATIM Chapter 4* “Hello again, my dearest friend, *shot of the chasm in BATIM* don't look so down, it's not the end, let's play the same old little game, *shot of Joey's office door in BATIM* to back out now would be a shame, now step in time, follow the lines, I've saved your seat right next to mine, *Dapper Bendy and Audrey stare at a wall of what looks like graffiti mixed with notes on employee and cash numbers as well as pieces of paper* like an oiled machine, rhythm and key, we'll make you fit in our harmony, your eyes can lie, you're doing fine, it's just a chill run down your spine”

*Unintelligible noises* 👀👀👀 There?? Are?? So?? Many?? Layers?? To this?? This sounds like it could just be Wilson singing to Audrey, but also like it transitions from Joey and Henry singing to each other to Nathan Sr. singing to everyone, then the original Three Kings all singing to their kids, back to Nathan Sr. (with an implication that we should be searching the whole series for clues and a hint at most of the Children of the Machine never having actually lived in the real world as Nathan Sr. wants us to think they did), back to all Three Kings, Wilson singing to everyone, and back to Nathan Sr. again!!

“Don't be afraid, you're not alone, *Audrey and Dapper Bendy turn around to see Freaky Teeth Bendy with one eye X'd out* he's always watching”

“Shh, don't fret. We're going home,” Wilson and Bendy/Real Joey are always watching in similar hivemind-y ways?!

*Shot of Freaky Teeth running through inky darkness* “There's teeth in the night, a life as dark as coal, and in the prophesy, he's just the mockery of your own heart and soul”

This sounds like confirmation that A: the Cheshire cat reference in TLO was indeed one of Wilson's riddles, telling us that the smiling face that everyone's so afraid of isn't the real danger, it's the unseen claws who won't allow anyone to escape nor to look at anything but the smiling face, and B: the literal and figurative Memory of Joey as well as Henry being a copy created to be tortured are blatant lies meant to keep the First and Third Kings of JDS at odds even beyond the grave as well as torment and mock the both of them?!?!

“There's fear in your eyes, so where now can you go? Can you own what you have made here, or will terror take control?” *Chorus repeats over shots of the Ink Machine being raised on chains like it was in BATIM, then of Archgate Studios, and a couple of empty hallways*

More that I think y'all will find extra fascinating in the concluding section… 👀👀 Also, If you're somehow still questioning the books' canonicity, at this point, I dunno what to tell you. Before we move on to the next song, I wanna bring up… I'd noticed, way back when it was first posted, that if you turned off the audio and just focused on what the final BATDR teaser audio log is actually saying before we hear Wilson's voice for the first time, there seemed to actually be a coherent thought being communicated…

“So what can you expect in the coming months? You never know! He's always watching me… I saw Mister Drew the other day, meeting with that Connor fellow, holding some papers. I think they saw me looking though. Just too many secrets being cooked up in the kitchen! If I didn't know better, I'd say there was magic there. Well calculated understanding between creation… -big things are coming!- …and creator. Massive things! That smile… You just learn to go with it. He's always watching me… You just watch! I've got a good feeling something great is going to happen.” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival teaser audio log dated April 14th, [YEAR REDACTED]

At first, I thought that this plus the fact that they'd released seven audio logs but only six shorts at the time of the seventh meant Bendy was alive as a cartoon, he'd been watching events from inside the drawings and was splicing audio logs together to express that he thought Joey realized he was alive and he was excited about the idea of having a real body… But who do we know, now, communicates like this? Through hints dropped all over the place via the thoughts, mouths and pens of many different people? Wilson and Joey, communicating with us through the hivemind, right? With this new perspective… it actually sounds like this is two people talking…

“So what can you expect in the coming months? You never know! He's always watching me… I saw Mister Drew the other day, meeting with that Connor fellow, holding some papers. I think they saw me looking though. Just too many secrets being cooked up in the kitchen! If I didn't know better, I'd say there was magic there. Well calculated understanding between creation… -big things are coming!- …and creator. Massive things! That smile… You just learn to go with it. He's always watching me… You just watch! I've got a good feeling something great is going to happen.” ~ Unknown, Bendy and the Dark Revival teaser audio log dated April 14th, [YEAR REDACTED]

Joey and Wilson, talking about the events of TIOL, DCTL, and TLO… Joey saying he's excited about creating his paradise for the lost, even if he's nervous about being caught by Nathan Sr… and Wilson saying he's excited about what he knows so far that the Ink Machine can do – watch people and get messages out more discreetly through the hivemind, not even having to be physically near anyone and risk getting caught to do either thing – and that he can tell Joey has good intentions, but he knows better than to get his hopes up for this whole thing to go well because his dad is involved in the situation, with his smile that masks the monster underneath with its Santa Claus Vibes and you just have to learn to play along with or else, because he's got spies everywhere… I love how they can make that same statement of “he's always watching” go from creepy in all instances to kind of comforting when it's referring to Wilson and Bendy/Real Joey and positively gut-wrenching when it's referring to Nathan Sr., once you dig deeper… *Shudders again* Anyways. Back to our regularly scheduled programming.

This next one, by one of the very same artists who previously released songs containing canon info, had its preview dropped the same day as the BATDR trailer:

*Obvious Joey shadow puppet appears* “Pictures in my head contained all, *Bendy cutout puppets appear* to make standing out art, *cutout puppets are replaced by an Ink Machine puppet* we need to take big steps not small, *Ink Machine puppet is replaced by a mannequin puppet* draw animate your part, *mannequin puppet disappears* trying to impress *Lost One puppets appear* in this mess, *Joey puppet looks around to find himself alone* you were trying your best, it wasn't close to the success, *obvious Bendy smile materializes behind the Joey puppet* you'll stay in this nest” *Bendy smile consumes the Joey puppet*

First of all, I'm frightened by the fact that he's telling us this story with literal puppets, considering how many times the only way I personally could think to accurately describe the relationship between Nathan Sr. and his victims was with “puppet-and-puppet-master” imagery (by the way, I saw someone point out that Betty's mask looks an awful lot like the marionette faces in Showdown Bandit did… Sounds like another layer to Wilson's intentional symbolism for his mom's involvement in his dad's machinations, if you ask me. Remember how the marionettes had such a big thing about how they shouldn't look up at whoever or whatever was controlling them that many of them literally plucked out their own eyes to avoid it? Sounds an awful lot like the symbolism I proposed for Wilson's posters). Second of all, this sounds like Joey was the one who was singing for exactly one line, then somebody took the microphone away from him to sing to/with/about him rather than letting him sing about himself. The mannequin puppet seems to imply that, while we may think Joey's the one pulling the strings, it's not actually any of his employees who's being spoken to in that “draw animate your part” line. And everything from “trying to impress in this mess” onward seems like it's confirming that Joey was trying his best to create a paradise to rescue his fellow victims-of-Nathan-Sr. in without tripping the man in question's alarms, but he failed at both that and obeying Nathan Sr.'s orders to satisfaction in general and was both A: isolated and villainized in the real world, and B: finally merged with the soulless Bendy body in the Ink Dimension when his human one died, all partly to punish him??

(Speaking of mannequins, anyone notice these ones sitting right across from each other in Twisted Alice's part of Wilson's mansion that seem to imply that both Susie and Joey were just puppets in the whole “creating Twisted Alice” situation?! The Joey one even has distracting eyebrows drawn on, further correlating him to Bernard the Ugly Lizard Man Who Wears a Blue Cloak in The Mug and the Maiden!!)

Sepiatone: I gave you all that I had, frames are showing new way, the apathy that's so sad, you lead my name away Grayscale: Calling it phantasmagoria*, when you're seeing more than them, means not knowing what's euphoria**, now I can live it through again

*A sequence of real or imaginary images like those seen in a dream.

**A feeling or state of intense excitement and happiness.

Holy… guacamole… He just crammed so much information into the space of only two freaking verses!!

The first one sounds like it has two meanings, using the “frames are showing new way” line to transition from A: confirmation that Sammy Lawrence became a personification of part of Joey's psyche (his desire to be protected/saved by and feelings of betrayal/abandonment at the hands of Henry and Nathan Sr.) when he was infected by the ink and that Nathan Sr. caused Henry leaving but manipulated the narrative so that the only options anyone was allowed to believe were “it was Joey's fault” (when, in reality, he genuinely tried to make things work) and “it was Henry's fault” (when, in reality, he also genuinely tried), to B: confirmation that Henry's being gaslit into believing he was never human and, as a result, using Joey's Illusion of Living coping mechanism to try and forget his human life and become apathetic so that his imprisonment in the Ink Dimension will hurt less and that The Mug and the Maiden, King Widow, and Lord Amok pretty overtly point towards the Memory of Joey being Joey's name and image stolen by Nathan Sr. (the context implied by the previous two lines being: “in order to rewrite history”).

The second sounds like confirmation of A: the symbolism behind Wilson's blacked-out eyes and lack of damage until you see him colored in in his posters being that, if we allow Nathan Sr. to gaslight us into ignoring the evidence of his crimes, then we're blind to the truth (and adding that, consequently, we'll either not realize that the default ending isn't the happiest possible one [as most of the YouTubers I've watched play the game seem to think it is] or find the story – especially the ending – utterly nonsensical and/or unfulfilling [as even I did, at first. I'll explain why I was wrong in the analysis/theory conclusion]), and B: specifically because we didn't know the truth, the time loop cycle is continuing (she showed Bendy the End Reel, remember? And they literally showed her walking through the same door in Joey's apartment to get back into her own studio as Henry did to get back into Ink Dimension JDS. Audrey reset the time loop cycle, she didn't break it. Probably the only reason it was daylight is because her and Wilson's loop is larger than Henry and Joey's was). Hot dang, y'all good at cramming several layers of meaning into lyrics.

Now, I'd like everyone to notice that there seem to be two Joeys singing the chorus!! One speaks in sepia text and seems friendlier until you pay attention to what he's actually saying, the other speaks in gray text using a deep, growly, stereotypical villain voice and seems to enjoy this role until you pay attention to what he's actually saying…!! 👀

Sepia Joey: Hey, can you hear me now? Gray Joey: Even if you don't like it you'll die in ink Sepia Joey: You'll breathe when I allow Gray Joey: You will die so make it easier, just sink Sepia Joey: I left for you my legacy Gray Joey: All consumed by fear, inky atmosphere Sepia Joey: Take my hand, that's the destiny, let's spin the last gear, we are back my dear

Sepia Joey is actually scarily controlling (honestly, that “you'll breathe when I allow” reeks of Nathan Sr.'s mafia-style disappearing of anyone who becomes a liability or he grows bored of, just like the first paragraph of the “Next in Line” memo did) and the fact that he says that taking his hand (as Audrey refused to do when the Memory of Joey was telling her the obvious lies about Allison and Henry and half-truth about her origins, only to decide that taking Bendy's hand when he came to save her was wrong and she needs to reset the time loop partly to resurrect the Memory of Joey), spinning the last gear (sounds awfully similar to playing the End Reel), and returning with him+ (to the beginning of the time loop?) is our destiny (a synonym for “fate”), all sounds like further confirmation that the Memory of Joey is either a puppet controlled by or straight-up Nathan Sr. and the End Reel and its endless “cartoon cycle of torment” was his creation and plan. Meanwhile, Gray Joey actually sounds… downright despairing… and, I probably don't need to reiterate, at this point, but uh…

“…I remember this night well. Though I remember it being at the Bee Room, gold and black, not [the] silver [that Joey describes] as the main design aesthetic. Doesn’t really make much of a difference though, I suppose.” ~ Nathan Arch Sr., The Illusion of Living, pg. 44 (emphasis added)

…confirmation that Bendy is Real Joey alert (it makes a whole heckuva lotta difference, Nathan Sr. Shut the heck up)!! Also— did anyone notice that the visual effects for transitioning out of Bendy Is Chasing You Grayscale is freakishly similar to the visual effects for transitioning in and out of Henry's visions in BATIM?

Further evidence that Audrey is Henry and Bendy/Real Joey's daughter alert!!! Possibly also further implying that we need to be looking at more than just what the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr. wants us to, and that Henry, Bendy/Real Joey, and Audrey are three of the five most powerful beings in the Ink Dimension— even without the Seeing Tool, they all seem able to see things that other ink creatures seem unable to…!

*Obvious Joey shadow puppet reappears* “Disappearance in the big silence, *Lost One puppets reappear, who the Joey puppet looks around at like he's panicking* world turning upside-down, *Lost One puppets disappear, leaving the Joey puppet alone again* everyone needed a new guidance *new Lost One puppets who seem to be kneeling in worship of the Joey puppet appear, only to disappear again, replaced by an obvious Henry shadow puppet, who the Joey puppet turns away from* one had but he has drowned.”

This looks and sounds like confirmation that Joey went into hiding to escape Nathan Sr. after JDS shut down and indeed contacted Henry for help fixing his mistakes but Nathan Sr. had Henry murdered and made it look like Joey either lured him to his death or created a sentient clone to torture in his place, both of which options make Joey look irredeemably evil?! And that, when Sammy's cult were worshiping the soulless Bendy back in BATIM, they were worshiping Joey's future image?!?! Y'know… it occurs to me, what if Joey wasn't the one who removed Henry from the ending of Tombstone Picnic?? 👀👀

Bendy (Joey) runs away from a skeleton (Nathan Sr.'s machinations?) and stops to catch his breath, Henry's shadow looms, Bendy looks up at him and smiles, only for the film to suddenly, inexplicably be cut short… Could this have been a clue that Nathan Sr. had Henry murdered when Joey called him for help all along??

Forgive me, I'm about to go on a bunny trail, cause I just remembered, as well, that I thought it was weird that the thumbnails for all of the shorts are sepiatoned, but the animation is black-and-white… A hint that these are the versions that Nathan Sr. has altered, we're only getting a peek at Joey's truth? *Stares at my notes on Joey having to jump through hoops to get Nathan Sr.'s permission to publish TIOL and then Nathan Sr. further editing it postmortem via his excessive, creepy notes* (While I'm on the topic: I wonder if Audrey colorizing Tombstone Picnic at the beginning of BATDR could be a hint at the further story detail we get through The Mug and the Maiden, Audrey herself, etc… Wilson does import color into the Ink Dimension, after all…) My bestie pointed out once, as well, that it's weird that Bendy's literally known for his iconic grin, but… all of the shorts (excepting Tombstone picnic) seem to end with him scared, frustrated, or sad… *Stares at my notes on Bill, Constance and Brant being personifications of Joey's fear, anger, and shame* and also how it's weird that Boris is supposed to be his best pal, but he's actually really mean to him… *Stares at my notes on Nathan Sr. isolating and villainizing Joey, turning all of his friends against him* and also how it's weird that none of them (excepting Tasty Trio Troubles) really… have any music to speak of… aside from the beginning ditty… when BATIM made such a big deal about it (like, an “every single one was fully orchestrated” kind of “big deal”)… Now I've read TIOL, where Joey literally titled a chapter “Without Music, Life Would Be a Mistake…” and, in the BATDR teasers, there's those audio logs from Sammy and Jack…

“Every time I turn around there’s more work to do. Four cartoons almost complete and all of them need a tune by tomorrow. Typical Joey planning. I’m working so much I’m starting to see Bendy in my sleep. That smile... He’s always watching me. Few more months of this, I wouldn’t be surprised if that grinning demon drove me completely insane. That smile… something’s just wrong with that smile. Can’t put my finger on it. Shake it off, Sammy. Best get back to your songs. Someone has to keep the little devil happy…” ~ Sammy Lawrence, Bendy and the Dark Revival teaser audio log dated June 16th, 1935 (emphasis added)

(Could this be a hint that Sammy figured out that Joey, a terrible planner, was not the one in charge?? And the reason behind his unsettling smiles that get read as malicious but are actually dissociative???)

“Okay, the smell is kinda starting to get to me now. Ever since they started putting in more pipes, it’s really begun to flow a lot more down here. The good news is that it’s helped me to work on things a lot faster. Definitely been some of my best lyrics lately. Sammy and I even won an award for one of our songs last month… I was told. Of course it had Mister Drew’s name on the award, but it’s the thought that counts. Speaking of which, I saw Mister Drew the other day… was meeting with that Connor fellow, holding some papers. Why they’d want to meet down here is beyond me. Something stinks.” ~ Jack Fain, Bendy and the Dark Revival teaser audio log dated November 18th, 1943 (emphasis added)

(This already suggests that Jack learned something he shouldn't, but could it be that we were completely wrong about the circumstances and information? Could he and Sammy have put what they each learned together…?)

…And then, in the actual game, there's that memo from Telly Wester we find on a desk right after climbing a ladder that's had rungs removed for some unknown reason next to the first two “Wilson Knows” posters we see, and a memo from Sammy shortly after which is under the third poster… and Jack has mysteriously changed his tune about the sewers…

“Geez! You'd think I was drowning kittens the way these people are lookin' at me! I've never seen such disappointment in a person's eyes. But this is the way of things, if management can't pay their bills, then the bank takes the goodies back. Still, it does break me a bit knowing how much I loved them old cartoons this place used to make. Oh well! Times change. Life moves on.” ~ Telly Wester, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Hard Times” memo (emphasis added)

“Joey, Jack and I have been wondering if you could meet with us considering the current situation? We have been with you for many years and we feel we have contributed to the success of Bendy in the past. Our interest is purely in keeping this company strong. We just want to help however we can. Let's talk.” ~ Sammy Lawrence, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Let's Talk” memo (emphasis added)

(When I first read this, I thought “ouch, poor Joey. Someone finally offered help and they made a big deal about how it's only for the company's sake? That must've stung…”)

“You gotta follow your inspirations when you're a musician. Stick to what you know works. But when they built the new studio buildings, they all but filled in my office down in the old sewers. Turns out, I've gotten so accustomed to working in those disgusting conditions, that now if my office doesn't stink, the lyrics I write do. So when Gent started digging their massive utility shaft between their place and ours, I knew it would be just the right spot for me to move in. Now, I've got a song in my heart, and a creative stench up my nose.” ~ Jack Fain, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Sewer Songs” memo (emphasis added)

What… what “goodies” was Telly talking about? What would cause people to look at him like that? Why this suspicious placement of items in a room that Wilson obviously had set up to welcome Audrey home…? I just remembered reading an old comment of mine… but I'd noticed that Tom, in his first BATIM audio log, talks about the ink pipes like he wasn't the one who put them in like his BATDR teaser one implies he was by placing him in the studio in 1943, just six days before Jack's audio log…

“It's dark and it's cold and it's stuck in behind every single wall now. In some places, I swear this godforsaken ink is clear up to my knees! Whoever thought that these crummy pipes could hold up under this kind of strain either knows something about pressure I don't, or he's some kind of idiot. But the real worst part about all this… are them noises the system makes. Like a dying dog on its last legs. Make no mistake, this place… this… machine… heck, this whole darn thing… it just isn't natural. You can bet, I won't be doing any more repair jobs for Mister Joey Drew.” ~ Thomas Connor, Bendy and the Ink Machine, ch. 1 (emphasis added)

I'd originally thought this meant BATDR was taking place in an alternate timeline/universe, not the same one as BATIM, but is this actually another case of Wilson and a child of the Machine trying to explain how past events have been edited and hint at what really happened? Is… is this saying that A: Jack figuring things out happened long before Tom arrived, perhaps it wasn't even Tom who he saw Joey meeting with at all (it would actually make his confusion at seeing them meet in the sewers make more sense if perhaps it was not just his boss, but also a fricking steel tycoon… All Nathan Sr. would need to do here to incriminate Tom instead of himself is edit the dates and a name), and B: Nathan Sr. orchestrated the events of DCTL to look like either Tom's incompetence or Joey's poor planning was the reason the pipe burst and infected Sammy, but, in actuality, Nathan Sr. sabotaged the pipes like he sabotaged the things he did in TLO, in order to disappear Sammy – start and supply his ink addiction – for trying to help Joey (both obviously also providing further evidence that Nathan Sr. editing Mr. Gray/Grey and all those other extra Gent employees into history)?? And… did Jack just sink into obedience because he didn't wanna get disappeared, too (in which case, the tune change is similar to Tom's between DCTL and TLO), or did Joey tell him he should go into hiding to protect him (in which case, the tune change is him leaning on Joey's Illusion of Living coping mechanism to make the fact he needs to stay in the sewers more bearable)???

“[Sammy] stared at me longer this time. Then he started to laugh this laugh that was all breath and no sound. Almost like wheezing. ‘Art Department. Okay. Okay, gofer for the Art Department, answer me this: Why are you guys storing ink in my sheet music closet? And why is JOEY running a pipe through my closet that's apparently filled with ink?’ A pipe? With ink? That definitely didn't sound normal, but then again, I had no idea what was normal for an animation studio. ‘I don't know.’” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 48 (emphasis added)

(The comments on seeming “innocuous strangeness” and theme of brushing questions aside return… Also, whose voice do we know by its distinctive wheezing? 👀👀 Wilson literally just commandeered Sammy's mouth, didn't he?!)

“I want to tell about Sammy. About when he disappeared. I want to get to that part of the story. But the thing is, we only notice someone is gone when time has passed… . . . Three days after that, when enough time had passed, but not so much that people really noticed it, Toby from accounting mentioned that Sammy hadn't come in for his paycheck. Again, us workers only knew anything about this because Mister Drew himself was storming around the building, angrily muttering about it. Interrogating folks he met as he went. I didn't feel like the rage matched the situation, but then I figured maybe he had something more on his mind than just a missing music director. . . . But then things took a turn. I remember coming to work and the police were outside and the studio was shut down. I remember being told by Richie that someone had broken in and messed the place up. That they were looking into a possible burglary. I remember Mister Drew rushing from his car and shouting in the detective's face something about sabotage. How seeing him shout like that was worse than seeing Mr. Schwartz lose his temper. Than seeing even Sammy lose his temper. It was jarring and a little scary. Especially compared to how he usually seemed.” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 193-194, 194-195, and 196 (emphasis added)

(Wilson seems to be highlighting an important part of Buddy's story for him, again…! 👀👀👀)

Was Joey so seemingly excessively upset by Sammy's disappearance because he was worried that Nathan Sr. might've taken another friend who was genuinely trying to help him away from him, changing the narrative around the situation, just like he did with the Henry leaving situation?! Was he not shouting about the “burglary” being sabotage, at all, but exploding because he now had confirmation that the whole weird situation was his “good friend” Nathan Sr.'s handiwork (honestly… why would he assume sabotage straight out of his car and what would this “burglary” even actually be sabotaging? How does this make sense as a response to the situation outside of the context I'm proposing? It… doesn't… Making him explode like this in front of many people even fits Nathan Sr.'s Classic Abuser Villainizing Their Victim M.O.)?! Could the lack of music in the shorts have been a hint at both how Nathan Sr. edits the Ink Dimension to be joyless and torture Joey in particular and how he punishes anyone who reaches out to/for help all along?!?! And… could Nathan Sr. have straight-up orchestrated Buddy's death, as well, besides forcing Joey to make up a story about how it was his own plan the whole time, because he realized Joey liked him?! Was the incident where Joey tricked Buddy into paying for a fancy dinner to make Nathan Sr. think he only saw him as a pawn when he started suspecting he'd done something to Sammy, but it didn't work?! Why was Buddy sat where he was (at… Henry's desk… which was being kept somewhere nobody wanted to sit, like Joey didn't want anyone going near it…) and Bendy locked up somewhere that this kid who people knew tended to stay late after work (just like Henry…) would hear him (recognizing, because he was under the pipes all the time, that this was a new and unnatural noise), let him out, and be blamed for unleashing the Ink Demon?

“It was because of the pipes. I know that now. My little corner of the Art Department that no one wanted to sit in… . . . So the pipes making the odd noise as I sat and worked in my corner that night really didn't even make me blink. Didn't make me look up. Until they did. . . . I stood up instinctively. This wasn't the furnace feeling frustrated. This was something else. What it was, though, I had no idea. Well, the thing I did know was that it was none of my business. So I sat back down and focused on my paper. That's when the moaning started.” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 139-140 (emphasis added)

Nathan Sr. took Joey's goodies away… drowned his kittens in ink because he kept disobeying/failing to obey to satisfaction… I get the feeling that, when Joey confronted him about Sammy being disappeared, Nathan Sr. said something like: “don't give me that look. This is just what happens when you don't behave, you know that. I felt a little bad doing it, I did enjoy his music… Oh well! Life goes on…” and it seems like he made sure the soulless Bendy took Buddy out extra poetically, because he could see Henry in him just as much as Joey could… so, he knew that death would hurt his “good friend” the most…

“[Mister Drew] grabbed me under my chin and held my head still. I tried to shake him off, but his grip was like a vise. He brought up his other hand and held me tighter. He came even closer and looked at me hard in the eyes. His scent was powerful. I'd never really noticed that before. But now for some reason I could smell him clearly. It wasn't just cigar smoke and pomade. I could smell his hors d'oeuvres from the party. I could smell whiskey and champagne. I could smell the city air and the heat of the day. His sweat. His madness. . . . Just because something is unbelievable doesn't make it not true. Remember that, Dot. Oh, please, above all things, remember that. . . . ‘The soul. But how do I get a soul? Sammy lured those people down here… I thought I could use them, but the ink had infected them for days. There was no soul left in there. I needed someone real. Someone good. I never thought I'd be so lucky as to have you, Buddy. But this was meant to be. This was the plan all along. That's why you were sent to me. When I came here, when I saw you—in the clutches of that beast—I understood your purpose.’ No. That's not my purpose. I felt anger rise in me, and I pushed his hand off my shoulder finally. I stayed where I was, white-hot rage now energizing me, making me almost afraid to stand up. Of what I might do. ‘I saved your soul, Buddy. And you saved me. You’re going to save Bendy.’ I didn't do that. My purpose was saving Dot and the others. That was my purpose. He couldn't and wouldn't take that away from me. My purpose now and always would be to protect the world from this beast. This machine.” ~ Daniel “Buddy” Lewek, Dreams Come to Life, pg. 287, 293, 294, and 295 (emphasis added)

Was Joey literally trying to tell Buddy that Nathan Sr. had plotted his demise because he knew he cared about him?! And was that comment about unbelievability a message from Wilson about the whole Nathan Sr.-and-his-puppets situation?!?! Which makes me think of… Okay, these next couple thoughts may be more of a headcanon than a legitimate theory, but I've had this weird, nagging feeling ever since I first read DCTL that I'd just totally discredited when I first heard Nathan Sr.'s voice, and I'm wondering if I shouldn't have… cause this line in The Mug and The Maiden, “two characters have died already, surely a third wouldn't hurt anything? Are you perhaps just reading this story because you want to see who will get the axe next? You're a little warped, do you know that?” is most definitely speaking of/to Nathan Sr… Any of y'all remember that scene in the elevator as Buddy was arriving at Joey's party? I wonder if my initial, gut reaction that the man with the southern accent who tried to get Buddy to join him in making fun of Joey (honestly, it seemed like laughing at the poor man was the one-and-only reason he was even there) and his wife who seemed done with his B.S. – both of whom mysteriously vanish after being introduced in a similar manner to Allison, like they might be important later – were actually Nathan Sr. and Tessa, except they were in disguise so that Joey wouldn't realize Nathan Sr. had come to watch his dominoes fall… until it was too late. Susie and Sammy already died (or “died”), surely another of his toys dying (or “dying”) tonight wouldn't hurt anything… but oh, goody-goody gumdrops, whichever will get the axe next? 👀 I also had this weird feeling when I first read TLO, before Andrew told Constance his name, that he was was going to be Nathan Jr… and I still felt like he might somehow be involved with Nathan Sr. – maybe a spy or something – until he just sort of got unceremoniously kicked from the story and nothing really came of him except adding more fuel to the raging inferno that was Constance's anger… I wonder if Nathan Sr. enlisted his neglected Favorite Son™ as Constance's Keeper? 👀👀 Back to things I'm more sure about, hm… that scene I just quoted sounds an awful lot like a certain scene at the end of BATDR…

Wilson: …All of the factors must be perfect. *Machine chamber rotates from the one containing the painting of Shipahoy Dudley to an empty one* The right design, the right science, and… *saw blades pop out of the chamber walls* the right soul. Audrey: What? Wilson: At last your purpose is revealed, Audrey. This is why you're here! With your soul inside him, my creation will live forever. Audrey: Stay away from me! You're insane! Wilson: Come now, Audrey! Part of you knew this was your path. Leave yourself behind… and ascend! Audrey: I thought you said we needed to save your father! I thought you had a plan to send me home! To make everything right! Wilson: I lied… My father is beyond hope. Perhaps you know him: Nathan Arch, owner of ArchGate! Industrial genius. Business tycoon. For years I've lived in his reaching shadow. He always had time for the grand creatives of the world, the “doers” as he called them! He knew only the best! The biggest thinkers! How could his lowly son ever hope to compete with that? But now, thanks to you, I can. Audrey: *Clenches fist* *tries to use her banishing powers on him* Wilson: *Catches her hand before she can* No need to struggle. My signal prevents you from using those devilish powers of yours… and more importantly, *catches her other hand before she can hit him with the Gent pipe* keeps the Ink Demon from getting in. It's time to die, Audrey… *starts dragging her towards the machine* and live again… as a god! Audrey: *Hits him with her pipe, continues struggling, and gets her right hand free* No! Not this time! ERRGH! *Hits him much harder, frees herself from his grip and pushes him into the saw blades*

More evidence that both Joey and Wilson's evil plans were actually Nathan Sr.'s all along?? He's done this before, to Susie, Sammy, Buddy, Henry, Allison, Grant, and who knows how many others through Joey (and, I mean, y'know, he's probably why Joey tried to sacrifice himself at all… I wonder if the reason his soul failed to merge with Bendy, the reason it was purportedly Joey's fault Bendy was soulless, was because he came to his senses at the last second and fought back like Audrey did), now he's trying to do it to both Audrey through Wilson and to Wilson through Audrey… This series is so filled to the brim with narrative parallels, it's astounding… And my. Gosh. I. Hate. Nathan Sr. More. And. More. The more I think about it all… Anyways, honestly, the whole Sammy and Jack situation would explain:

Joey's comments on Sammy and Jack seeming to secretly hate each other in TIOL: maybe he added that in so that, if one of his friends was caught by Nathan Sr., then maybe the other wouldn't be (clearly it didn't work, unfortunately)?!

Joey describing Jack as an attention-hogging showman when all of his audio logs show he was very introverted, didn't much care about getting credit, etc: maybe he wanted to create this image of him so that Nathan Sr. wouldn't notice him if and when he went into hiding?!

Why Joey put a pump switch in Sammy's office: maybe he realized Nathan Sr. was catching on and wanted to make him think he didn't care about him while also getting Sammy to start hiding like Jack?!

Why Sammy made the comment he did to the (sepia!!) newspaper in the Employee Handbook that most people interpreted as meaning he was always a villain and on Joey's side in a bad way when he, himself, clearly didn't like being ordered around and under a tight schedule: maybe he, himself, was also trying to throw Nathan Sr. off the scent of rebellion (also, this means we have even more evidence of Nathan Sr. A: letting rumors spread to punish Joey, and B: creating Decoy Villains through manipulation/etc. all the freaking time)?!

Now that we're all chewing on that food for thought, back to the music. 😝

Sepiatone: You were all my gold that has been never sold, giving life for art is going to be told, with a new name but an old soul, playing the old remastered roll, backing to tracks forgotten, all is fresh not rotten Grayscale: But there was just one creation, couldn't ever imagine, it brought my needed retaliation, for the artistic salvation *Two-Joey chorus repeats* Grayscale: Never-ending cycle started the suffering revival, the offspring has survived, angels and demons darkly revived, the vision brought a very costly decision, *obvious Joey silhouette appears* how great it is to feel the artistic *Joey silhouette flickers out of existence* catharsis, thaaa— Sepiatone: —aaat feels like I'm living, Sepia Joey: losing what I've been dreaming is what I'm fearing, but the true god of conceptions know, when from the spotlight he should go Grayscale: Anyone know? I'm! Still! Here!

*Wheezes* Did you just further confirm all my theories on how the version of Joey's story that everyone knows was written by Nathan Sr. (while simultaneously nudging us towards the idea that the Memory of Joey is straight-up Nathan Sr. in disguise and reinforcing that the End Reel is his creation and the resets are part of his plan to torture everyone), there was only ever one studio it's just that reality and people's memories have been modified and re-modified beyond recognition, Joey intended for the Ink Dimension to be salvation for those who've suffered in life and the victims of Nathan Sr.'s machinations but Nathan Sr. hijacked his creation, twisting it from a heavenly paradise into the hellish prison he, himself, now relishes and doesn't want to lose control of and consequently it was a good thing for Bendy to crush the Memory of Joey?? And possibly also drop a hint about the explanation of the events of TLO provided by The Mug and The Maiden before definitely reinforcing that the real Joey (who mused about ascending to godhood in TIOL and, if he's really Bendy now, has been described as a “deity” by Wilson, and has definitely been described as a “Dreamer” throughout the whole series, therefore “the true god of conceptions”) has been pushed outta the spotlight by the Memory of Joey and using Bertrum's line to simultaneously confirm that Bertrum also became a personification of part of Joey's psyche (his desires for the respect of others and praise for his work, hatred for anyone who belittles him and desire to upstage them in retaliation) and that Real Joey's soul is indeed still here inside Bendy???

Sepia Joey: Hey, do you hear me now? Gray Joey: After all these years, vision's still in the minds Sepia Joey: You'll breathe when I allow Gray Joey: Even dried-out ink is still drawing new lines Sepia Joey: I left for you my legacy Gray Joey: All consumed by fear, inky atmosphere Sepia Joey: Take my hand, that's the destiny, let's spin the last gear, I'll miss you my dear

Did you just also confirm that even the long-dead are still modifying the Ink Dimension for various purposes, simultaneously confirming that many of the new audio logs/memos/side stories may indeed have been made up by the souls of the series' scapegoats/etc. in attempt to call our attention to the discrepancies and reveal the truths and that Nathan Sr. – as the person who seems to be doing most of the reality/memory modification – might indeed already be dead, which would mean his soul would indeed be the true “new evil” in the Ink Dimension?! I'm vibrating again, omigosh…

The rest of the lyrics were all lines from the artist's previous Bendy songs ending on a lineup of posters of each one, which I'm thinking is probably further confirmation of theMeatly's repeated statements that all established lore is still 100% canon, and then did you notice… that while all the other posters only include drawings of cartoon characters, the poster for Legacy is a drawing of Bendy and human Joey as he looks in Archgate's documentary banners, haircut and all, and we see the Joey shadow puppet's shadow looming over it before the shot fades to black??? 👀 He's practically screaming in our faces that the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr. is not supposed to be here and is the real villain!!

Whilst we're talking about there being two Joeys, one of whom is clearly heavily connected to Nathan Sr. for history rewriting purposes… Did anyone notice that, in his letter at the beginning of BATIM, Joey says that he “needs” to show Henry something… Then, in the monologue in his apartment at the end of BATIM, the subtitles (which are what I transcribed the quote from in my original analysis/theory, by the way. In case anyone was wondering. I have auditory processing issues, sue me) say he “needs” to show him something while the voice actor says he “wants” to show him… And then, when the Memory of Joey tells the version of Henry's story that's definitely, 100%, undeniably a blatant Nathan Sr. lie, at this point, he says both verbally and in the subtitles that he “wants” to show Audrey something… 👀👀 “Need” suggests there was a genuine need, and therefore that the “Joey called Henry for help” option would be correct, whereas “want” suggests he wanted to show off something he was proud of or something, and therefore that either the “Joey lured Henry in to murder him” or “Joey created Fake Henry to be tortured” options would be correct… Sounding like the subtitle mismatch was not a mistake, but actually a hint at the transition from Joey's Truth to Nathan Sr.'s Lie, to anyone else? Like maybe Henry remembered that his old friend was supposed to have said “need,” and he was confused as to why he was saying “want,” now?? 👀👀👀

This song was illustrated by someone kept anonymous in the video description, who I think we all know is the same person who did the visuals for that first highly suspicious song, despite him saying that Desolate Hallway would be his last project (if you couldn't already tell just by looking at the style, the crucial hint in the comments returns):

First things first, it's suspicious that this song is titled “Black and White,” considering Joey and Freaky Teeth Bendy's heavy ties to grayscale. I think this song is straight-up Bendy/Real Joey explaining his side of the story to us.

Grayscale: Ooh you're outta luck! Somebody's pulled the rug, and everything you've known has bid farewell, now demons run amok, this land from which you're stuck, the heavens pray this fresh hell treats you well, oh no… Sepiatone: *Whisper that shakes the screen like it frightened the singer* No

Frick, that was Joey despairing that his baby girl's been dragged back into the Ink Dimension and praying for her to be safe and Nathan Sr. interrupting him to say that she won't be, wasn't it?

Grayscale (w/ sepia drawing of Audrey): One moment drew with ink, the next I feel it coursing through my veins, I look around to see, reanimated dreams, that festered into frights that never drained Sepiatone (drawing of Audrey): This portal to the past, has morals I could pass, these monsters justify the wrong, in hopes to find their song, knowing it's already gone Grayscale (w/ sepia drawing of Audrey): Catch you in the credits, captivation to this black and white, just don't feel right, yeah, when the shadows grimace, all it takes is an *highlights with a golden glow* enlightened eye, *back to grayscale* to see that I don't belong

This could be Audrey singing about getting sacrificed to the ink machine… or it could also be… Joey describing the day his human body died and he woke up in his cartoon world that was warped from paradise into prison by Nathan Sr. and he was never able to fix… He's also describing how Nathan Sr.'s manipulation and abuse fudges up his victims' consciences, using empathy to make them believe they'll be relieving suffering, creating great art, and/or achieving greatness, so that they think they're in the right committing atrocities… and how he didn't want to continue the cycle of abuse/trauma with his daughter… He even seems to be pointing us to the drawing at the end of the credits – which I'll come back to at the end of this analysis – saying it's unfair that he's the only one who can see his truth in the grayscale, and asking us to look at his story through a new lens…

Grayscale (drawing of Dapper Bendy): Oh can't stop for breath, in a world that leaks with death, I stick out like a stain that won't wash out, creatives always said, work can't go to your head, but never said that they'd go for your throat

He's literally confirming that Nathan Sr. sees him as one of the “stains ready to be cleansed away” *cough liabilities in need of disappearing mafia-style cough* in Wilson's “none of this ‘makes sense’” rant, confirming that this rant was indeed a riddle trying to tell Audrey about Nathan Sr.?? And then seems to be quoting something Henry and others might've said to him when he/they noticed that the studio chapter of their lives seemed to be changing him, and then explaining what it felt like when Nathan Sr. started villainizing him, causing people who he thought cared to turn against him…?

Grayscale (camera pans over to show a drawing of Freaky Teeth Bendy in a mirror behind Dapper): A cartoon made to dance, had finally got a chance, to never be erased again, now I have been condemned, to the marks from my own pen, catch you in the credits, captivation to this black and white, just don't feel right, when the shadows grimace, all it takes is an *highlights with a golden glow* enlightened eye, *back to grayscale* to see that I don't belong

He's confirming that he thought he'd escaped Nathan Sr.'s clutches only to find himself trapped in them again by his own creation?? And then back to pointing us to the credits of BATDR, saying it's unfair that nobody else can see his truth, and asking us to look at his story through a new lens…

Sepiatone: Passion amassed all our pass time distractions, to fight for their rations and live a tortured life, but the reels just repeat, lost the chance to redeem, when corruption’s defeated, remembrance always dies, yet even when memories fade, your legacy carries your fate, the devil may reach for my heart, *highlights with a golden glow* but I don’t belong to the dark

This sounds like he's describing what Nathan Sr. did to all his victims now trapped in what should've been their salvation, again… Confirming again that the End Reel and the Memory of Joey are evil and it was good for the Memory of Joey to be crushed and bad for the loop to restart… And then we seem to have Nathan Sr. bragging about the fact he's turned Joey's baby girl against him, so he won't win even if he kills him??? But then what seems to be Audrey providing her much more positive side of the story, that she's trying not to lean on her dad's maladaptive coping mechanisms… I'm coming back to that, I'm coming back to that. I'll wait.

Grayscale (w/ sepia drawing of Audrey): Catch ya in the credits, captivation to this black and white, just don’t feel right, when the shadows grimace, all it takes is an *highlights with a golden glow* enlightened eye, *back to grayscale* to see that I don’t belong Sepiatone (drawing of the Bendy): (Oh no), to see that I don’t belong, (black and white, it don’t feel right), to see that I don’t belong

Let's do some more examination on the fully animated version, which seems to provide further insight:

The beginning seems to be confirming that it's Bendy singing for the majority of the song, though it tries to make it look like the “no” is coming from Bendy… highlighted by a switch to sepia, as if we're only seeing it that way because our perception has been altered. Then it seems suggested that it is Audrey who's singing the “one moment drew with ink, the next I feel it coursing through my veins,” except… “I look around to see, reanimated dreams” is accompanied by what looks like footage of BATIM Chapter 2… which is weird… and suggests that maybe we're seeing Henry and/or Joey's memories… *Stares at my notes on Audrey's parentage* Then, “that festered into frights that never drained” is accompanied by all four Butcher Gang members appearing around Audrey… *Stares at my notes on reality editing and children of the Machine* And then “this portal to the past” is accompanied by a shot of the “again & again, around & around” hidden message from BATIM, “has morals I could pass” a Bendy statue from BATIM, “these monsters justify the wrong” a Searcher wrenching a door open to attack, “in hopes to find their song” a Lost One throwing herself against a wall and looking sad, “knowing it's already gone” Dapper Bendy looking at the toy train in his lap all alone…

The first chorus, “catch ya in the credits” is accompanied by Audrey and Dapper Bendy doing a handshake like they're already best pals and teammates, “captivation to this black and white, just don't feel right” the pair walking together to the library in BATIM where Henry saw his first vision that wasn't triggered by passing out from a magic-induced headache or doing something you don't do in a normal playthrough (which suggests that this might've been a point where the script was changed), “when the shadows grimace, all it takes is an enlightened eye to see that I don't belong” Audrey looking at a copy of TIOL (I probably don't have to reiterate, but I'm gonna: the biggest source of info on Nathan Sr.'s abusiveness towards Joey), then Bendy narrowing his eyes and looking over at a projection of the hidden messages from Henry's cell in Allison and Tom's hideout, *stares at my notes on these being evidence that Henry and Allison's story retcons are blatant lies* followed by shots of Carley the fourth Butcher Gang member, several Lost Ones who seem to be sitting at school desks in front of the ink messages Grant scrawled all over the walls of his office in BATIM, *stares at my notes on how the children of the Machine seem to be tryna tell us that Mr. Gray/Grey is being written into the story as a decoy villain partially through highlighting how Nathan Sr. changed Grant's story to fit this pretend history* Porter (one of the most critical parts of arousing suspicion that he and Heidi aren't Audrey's siblings, the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr.'s just tryna make Real Joey look bad), an empty music studio, and Wilson with the invisible ink messages “who is the man behind the monster?” and “you bring death” behind him, which suggests that… maybe a large number of the secret messages we found in BATIM, even ones we thought were just jokes (as many assumed The Mug and the Maiden was), were… being used as riddles by him… Omigosh, guys, read these in the (general) order we encounter them with the idea that – no matter who actually wrote them – Wilson could be using these to talk to us/himself, tell stories, etc. in mind (there's actually way more that sound very, very him, but Tumblr's image limit, so I'm only putting highlights from the beginning and ending here):

This feels like a description of the events of DCTL (especially considering the fact that Wilson used the widow – a “she” – in The Mug and the Maiden to symbolize Nathan Sr. Secret messages relating to Twisted Alice could very well be being used to talk about him… I wonder if Twisted Alice's line “I see you there. A new fly in my endless web” in BATIM was a reference to Nathan Sr., as well? Seeing as Wilson used the King Widow and Lord Amok to tell us that the Memory of Joey is either Nathan Sr.'s puppet or Nathan Sr. himself)…

And then a description of Joey's guilt spiral and calling Henry for help only for his dearest friend to be murdered by Nathan Sr., then Allison trying to be there for him and also getting murdered by Nathan Sr., but Joey being blamed for both incidents just like every puppet always gets blamed for everything that Nathan Sr. orchestrates… Y'know, all that stuff with Sammy and now with Henry's secret messages would explain why it was specifically Henry's axe and seeing tool and a record in the contraband display case, wouldn't it—? Did the Keepers put them there under the Memory of Joey/Nathan Sr.'s orders, or was this another of Wilson's attempts to call our attention to what he was trying to say (“guys please I'm trying so hard but my effing dad keeps silencing me, I'm literally begging you to look into Sammy and Henry for the love of all things good”)…?? Mm! I'm vibrating, again. Anyways, “a cartoon made to dance, had finally got a chance, to never be erased again, now I have been condemned, to the marks from my own pen” is accompanied by a shot of Dapper Bendy gripping his head and looking at Audrey in distress as he melts, then reemerges from the puddle as Freaky Teeth Bendy, the hidden message depicting the soulless Bendy's monster horns and claws that should be around the Bendy clock in Boris's hideout in BATIM behind him…

“*Panting* When you animate, it's so much more than just motion. It's a way of life, an art, a passion. *Crazed giggle* Each tiny movement is an *growly* emotional trigger to the audience. Get it wrong, and you will lose them. You must live the characters to draw them. You must feel the motions in your mind. *Pitch raises to be like the giggle again* Act them out around your room. Today, I'm a clock, a dancing timekeeper. *Giggles again* Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. *Giggles* Watch my movements. *Growly* See my frames of animation! I have so many characters to animate yet. Thousands of frames to go. *Giggles again, but sounding on the verge of tears* But for now, I'm just a clock. *Giggle, sniffle* Tick tock. *Giggle, sniffle* Tick tock. *Sniffly gasp, leading into a crazed laugh that almost sounds like sobbing* Hahahhaha!” ~ Bill Danton, Bendy and the Dark Revival, “Dancing Clock” audio log

Oh, honey… Danton (sorry, sweetie, I gotta refer to you with your surname to avoid confusion) is a personification of the part of Bendy/Real Joey that's in agony playing the villain again postmortem, unable to free himself from Nathan Sr.'s sadistic script even now and, worse, made the key to the resets, isn't he…? Oof… Then, the second “all it takes is an enlightened eye to see that I don't belong” is accompanied by a shot of Wilson and Betty followed by shots of the Memory of Joey in red lighting, Henry in green lighting, Twisted Alice, a Keeper, and the Bendys in black-and-white before they're swallowed by sepia lighting.

“But the reels just repeat, lost the chance to redeem” is interestingly a cut from Bendy saving Audrey from bleeding out on the floor after killing Shipahoy Wilson for ripping her legs off to… the Memory of Joey (I checked, that’s definitely his watch and pinstriped suit) standing looking at Norman’s projector head that we use to reset the loop… *Stares at my notes on the Memory of Joey wanting the cycle to continue being a very bad sign* Ouch, the “when corruption’s defeated, remembrance always dies” line being accompanied by Henry and Audrey-in-Bendy’s-body nodding at each other before resetting the loop hurts so bad… Y’know… now that this brings it up… the parallels to the soulless Bendy saving Henry from the Projectionist only for him to go after the End Reel… which Bendy stole from the vault and hid in his Throne Room… Is this saying that Real Joey was trying to break the cycle through Bendy by making him steal the stupid reel (which might suggest that the reason Henry had a vision when Bendy saved him was because Norman wasn't supposed to be able to see him and Joey briefly connected to Bendy to rescue his friend, now that I think about it), the audio log that came with it was basically the Memory of Joey before Nathan Sr. died and was able to physically manifest in the Ink Dimension…

“It's simply awe-inspiring what one can accomplish with their own hands! A lump of clay can turn to meaning… if you strangle it with enough enthusiasm. Look what we've built! We created life itself, Henry! Not just on the silver screen, but in the hearts of those we've entertained with our fancy moving pictures! But… when the tickets stopped selling, when the next big thing came along, only the monsters remained. Shadows of the past. But you can save them, Henry! You can peel it all away! You see, there's only one thing Bendy has never known: He was there for his beginning, but he's never seen… The End.” ~ (The Memory of??) Joey Drew, Bendy and the Ink Machine, Chapter 5

…created in order to push Henry to reset the loop while making Bendy look like the villain (and indirectly confessing to orchestrating the deaths of so many – Henry included – under his true identity [Nathan Sr.] and what he was planning on the Ink Dimension coverup for Henry's death being?? Please tell me everyone's seeing that line's similarity to Wilson's “None of This ‘Makes Sense’” riddle, the epilogue of TLO, the “Wilson Trying to Make Audrey Into Shipahoy Dudley” scene, and the “Joey's False Confession to Buddy” scene), just like how he did to Audrey coming in with his love-bombing her and making Bendy look like the bad guy for crushing him?? I— holy— woah… oh my…

Audrey: I'm scared. I don't know what's happening. The Memory of Joey: The past doesn't define you, nor the present! In the end, all those years ago, Joey Drew finally succeeded! He created… life. But Audrey, you're so much more than that. You were his family, his daughter. My daughter… and I love you so very much. The Ink Demon: Be quiet. The wretch is mine! The Memory of Joey: Remember who you are, Audrey. Remember! The Ink Demon: Your words are wasted! The failure of Joey Drew dies here! . . . The Ink Demon: *Crushes MoJ with their right hand* Audrey: Noooo! The Ink Demon: *Throws MoJ in the ink* The future is sealed. *Puts their right hand on the floor and does nothing else, as if he just wants to rest* Audrey: *Turns their head to look at the End Reel* The Ink Demon: What do you think you're doing? Audrey: *Picks the End Reel up with their left hand* I'm starting over. The Ink Demon: What? Audrey: This… is the end.

This scene was literally Real Joey fighting to claim his daughter as his effing daughter and break the time loop cycle while Nathan Sr. sneakily directed her attention and affection towards himself to save both his own skin and the accursed cycle!! 🤯 Nathan Sr. has fricking manipulated the script so much— this makes Danton's audio log twenty times more upsetting…!

The “your legacy carries your fate” line is interestingly accompanied by a shot of Audrey and Shipahoy Wilson, possibly alluding that they could fight against Nathan Sr.'s machinations together? And then Audrey says the “but I don't belong to the dark” line back in her office, and the door behind her opens to reveal Dapper Bendy in a grayscale version of it before we're pulled back into the sepia where we see a shot of the soulless Bendy from BATIM for the “catch ya in the credits” and Freaky Teeth looking around like something's wrong for the “captivation to this black-and-white just don't feel right” lines.

“When the shadows grimace” comes with a shot of Shipahoy Wilson, “all it takes is an enlightened eye to see that I don't belong” a shot of Tom pointing behind us where we turn to see Allison Angel and then Henry. Then, that final “to see that I don’t belong, (black and white, it don’t feel right), to see that I don’t belong” line is accompanied by shots of Audrey falling down the elevator shaft like a rabbit hole, Freaky Teeth touching her shoulder and head, and, finally, a shot of Audrey in front of the cork board from Joey's apartment with the items from it that correlated to the ones used to turn on the Ink Machine (including another copy of TIOL!!) floating around her…

Anyone notice that this drawing from the credits of Daddy and Daughter drawing together in their apartment is the only one that's in black-and-white? I dunno about y'all, but this all feels a little too on-the-nose to just be a coincidence…!! 👀

And, finally, everyone probably already knew about this one, but I think it's important to look at this official BATDR song through a new lens:

“Come what may, I'm watching over you, when darkness comes closing in, I'll turn that black sky to blue, I'll always guide you, protect you, I'll never forsake you, you know my heart is always true, so no matter the odds, what lies between us, I'll always be here for you, lost in the shadows, I'll be your light, shining your whole life through, so no matter the odds, what lies between us, I'll always be here for you

I'll always guide you, protect you, I'll never forsake you, you know my heart is always true, so no matter the odds, what lies between us, I'll always be here for you, lost in the shadows, I'll be your light, shining your whole life through, so no matter the odds, what lies between us, I'll always be here for you”

…Fudge nuggets, y'all got me crying, again. 🥲 This is supposed to be a song that our potential Cyclebreakers can sing to each other, including Allison and Tom as pictured in most of the video, Joey and his baby girl as that Bendy-and-Audrey drawing in the middle might be implying, and so on, isn't it? 😭💕 *Deep breath* Anyways…

In conclusion: I do think BATDR is the end of the original story.

I feel like future games will probably focus on what on Earth happens when the children of the Machine move on, what with Gent's return teased in the post-credits scene. But at any rate, while maybe the final story might not have been quite what they originally planned and has changed a few times while BATDR was in development limbo, I wholeheartedly believe that Nathan Sr. is still very much the true villain of the entire Bendy series so far. He's just sticking to what he's good at and staying the heck behind his beloved curtain, pulling everyone else's strings… And I know I said in my initial reaction that the default ending didn't feel like the true one due to all the things that didn't make sense, but now that I've put all my other thoughts into words and mulled things over more, I wanna leave you with this thought:

“We’re ALWAYS free to choose. To believe what we want to believe. But when you step back, when you really look at where you've been, and the things you've done, your past will come… to devour you. *Bendy's growl echoes in the backround, as if another memory*” ~ Audrey Drew, Bendy and the Dark Revival, intro (emphasis added)

“You must be really lost to be asking me for help.” ~ Henry Stein, Bendy and the Dark Revival, Chapter 4

Audrey: Dead end! Now what? Henry: Need some help? Audrey: Henry! You came! Henry: Some battles are worth fighting for… Even a million times. Come on! I found a projector up ahead! Run for it! The Ink Demon: This realm is mine… and the cycle will continue! Audrey: Well then, we'll just have to do better next time.

“My father once told me, that just because we’re born of darkness… doesn’t mean we belong to it. We’re always free to choose. And here, at the very beginning, there’s a choice to make. My father’s cartoon world was now mine. To rule, to watch over, and to protect. I can make the cycle more bearable for my friends inside. But as for me, I’m the first of my kind. Born of ink, but living in flesh. Joey’s world is escaping into ours. So, what’s next? Who can really say?” ~ Audrey Drew, Bendy and the Dark Revival, outro (emphasis added)

I… don't think the default ending is about all the other ink creatures literally escaping into the actual real world with Audrey— except for her fellow children of the Machine, who already exist in-between the two worlds, belonging to both and neither, thanks to their ghostly origins, and consequently can cross over just fine if they so desire. I think it's much more about her choosing to A: acknowledge and accept the Joseph Dempsey (aka Dapper Bendy) part of her dad's story – that while he made mistakes, he did in fact love her and was trying his best to make sure she'd have a better life than he did – remember the memories that she'd suppressed through her dad's Illusion of Living coping mechanism and allow herself to grieve for him and embrace what's left of him, B: possibly get the truth of what Nathan Sr. did to Joey, Wilson, and everyone else out into the world?? That's another copy of TIOL that she's holding!! And C: reject (or “banish away,” as Bendy/Real Joey said in his “The Beginning” and “Something Familiar” memos) what she, like her father, thought was her only option for survival – becoming a monster – after seeing the creature she became torture and eventually kill a being with the face and voice of her loved one (making her realize that this was just as bad a road for herself as it was for him), and to break the cycle of trauma/abuse by taking control of, especially, the real-world memory part of her father's creation (mayhaps it's actually another of those “many wires” mentioned in A Theory about Spaces? It's not quite the real world, but it's also not truly the Ink Dimension…) to make the fact that they're all still trapped in the loop more bearable. Even if they still have to relive many of the events we've seen, maybe she can eventually figure out how to do things like let Henry visit Memory Linda (yes, she gets the honor of dropping the “the” and “of” in the moniker), who may still exist within the Real-World Memory Space, and so on. Maybe she'll even be able to get through to Wilson, someday, and they can rule the Ink Dimension together?

It's not perfect, they're all gonna be affected by what happened to them forever, like trauma survivors in real life. But they're gonna manage. Those who are willing are gonna do what they can and make the most of what they have, do their best to heal and move on. Honestly, even if there isn't a secret Grayscale Ending (which I do still really hope there is— Wilson and Joey deserve better than they got in the default ending and I want so badly to make Nathan Sr. face more-permanent justice)… I think that's a pretty beautiful way to have handled it.

To Read the Original Analysis/Theory: Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Unexpected Part Four

[randomvarious]

Today's compilation:

Hits House 2001, Vol. 2 2001 House

Alright, well, I don't know how necessarily true this is, folks, but if you look at the back cover of this CD here from France that's packed with a full helping of house gems and jams from the early 2000s, you'll notice that a whole lot of these tracks are marked as being exclusive. And the label that put out this comp, Absolute Sound, which is a sublabel of another French company called Happy Music, *did not* go on to then release most of these 'exclusives' as 12-inches on either their own label or on Happy's. And some of these were pretty popular, well-distributed tunes too!

So either I have a really great comp on my hands here that played a significant role in partially shaping the sound of house music for 2001, by publicly serving up a bunch of tunes for other labels across the globe to then pick up, or maybe that 'exclu' label is being used a bit more gratuitously than it would seem to imply 🤔. Being that none of the songs on this CD are the full-length versions, the specific edits that were supplied on this release could've been what earned them their 'exclu' tags in the first place (which would feel like a little bit of a sleight of hand), or perhaps these songs' inclusions on this CD marked their first ever official appearance in France? 🤷‍♂️

Either way, while the fact that all of these tunes are cut annoyingly short and aren't afforded the necessary breathing room in order for them to achieve their full, delicious impact, it really can't be denied just how chock-full of bangers that this album still is. I think 20 out of 22 of these songs came out in 2001 itself, so let this be an opportunity for you to transport yourself back to that year and allow some of its finest house tracks to just wash over you for over an hour 😌.

Now, it's not very easy to pick a favorite among this batch, but I think Sandy Rivera and LT Brown's "Come Into My Room" might be the one. First of all, it's, of course, a tune that uses the extremely popular filter technique—that approach where certain elements get looped repeatedly, and sound like they're being submerged underwater at first, but then progressively continue to sound clearer and clearer, until they satisfyingly breach the surface. This concept was all the rage in the global underground house space for a long while it seems, and yours truly still happens to be a complete and total sucker for it 😋.

And while its constant implementation can be seen as an unfortunate means to reducing house music down to something that's more formulaic, filtering still has a natural way of generating a level of anticipation for the listener, as they know to await and enjoy the climb-up to that peaking breach, and it also automatically means that, in a genre that's often ridiculed for its overall repetitiveness, that because of the filtering, although the elements themselves will be much the same, they won't actually sound exactly alike with each successive bar, which ends up lending the song a little bit more variety than what was once standard.

So, yeah, I love that track; and not just because of the filtering itself—because there's sooooo many filter tunes out there—but because of what that filtering is applied to: a constantly chirping lead pair of guitar notes and a contrastingly deeper synth piece that accompanies them, which is also further enhanced by some rumbly bass pulsations too.

And another thing that I think's worth mentioning is that Sia—yes, that Sia—is on this release as well. Maybe you're not aware, but long before she went on to become a total 2010s pop sensation who donned her own intriguing face-obscuring wigs in order to retain a semblance of much-desired anonymity, she had actually already been active as a solo musician for well over a decade, and this somewhat popular house remix of her "Drink to Get Drunk," which was done by UK duo Different Gear, is a pretty good one that matches her unique voice to an electro-dubby synth melody.

So, at the end of the day, while every single song on here is most likely better enjoyed in its full-length version, this still makes for a pretty terrific time capsule of house music from 2001. I'm highly skeptical that most of the songs that are labeled as exclusives are actually exclusives though, but if they really are, then damn, is this thing extra special then!

Highlights:

Kings of Tomorrow - "Finally" Lil' Devious - "Come Home" Slow & Newland - "Being in Love" Soul Dujour - "Here We Go Again" Modjo - "Chillin'" Deep Swing - "In the Music" Different Gear vs. Sia - "Drink to Get Drunk" Sandy Rivera feat. LT Brown - "Come Into My Room" Harry "Choo Choo" Romero - "Tania" Gypsymen - "Babarabatiri" Banda Sonora - "Guitarra G" Freshmove feat. Darryl Pandy - "You Can Do It" Intrallazzi & Fratty - "The Love (L'amour)" Cerrone - "Give Me Love" Static Revenger - "Happy People" Simpson Tune - "Bring It Down" Eminence feat. Kathy Brown - "Give It Up"

[haunted-plush]

I decided to make a post about some songs that remind me of Red Sauce (aka me) because it's my blog and I'm gonna be cringefail

Coriahosanota- Slowed + Reverb

Ralph Rodolen, Ryan Celsius Sounds

The lyrics on this one are nonsense, which I love. No meaning to it, just sounds. It's also edited in a way that makes it super snap crackle pop in my ears

Mountains Call

Aarigod

The first time I heard this I had to pause the youtube playlist video to check the title and see if it was on spotify. Thankfully it was, and now it's one of my absolute favorites. It reminds me of late fall and early winter, staying inside in bed and drinking chamomile tea (which I drink)

Venture

Plastic Patina

It's quite solemn, almost regretful, but it's still quite comforting. It's like you're in unfortunate circumstances but you've learned to accept them, and now you're in a comfortable melancholy.

After Dark

Mr. Kitty

It's by someone called Mr. Kitty, how could it not remind me of myself? I am feline, after all. Mrrp! Teehee, jokes aside, I love this song. It's so... entrancing. I could listen to it on loop for hours. I bet I'd fall asleep before long...

Frog Summer

Leon Chang

This one's a bit different, but it's really cute, and a nice chill yet upbeat little track. I think it'd be good to cook or bake to, or I guess in my case eat lmao

[lucky-katebishop]

I spent a month reading harry potter fanfics and here’s what I learned

So for the past three and a half weeks, I’ve been doing basically nothing but reading Harry Potter fanfics and now I kind of just want to talk about them. No one cares but future me will! I tend to get caught in obsessions fairly easily (for instance, two months ago was comic books and last month was video editing and then k dramas). I’m feeling like my Harry Potter obsession is fading which makes me really sad cause it was a fun ride. I went from Drarry to Hinny, time travel to alternate realities, obscuris Harry to Dark!Harry, MCU AUs to Doctor Who AUs. I must’ve read more than 50 fics.

I’ve learned that I hate Dumbledore

Snape makes for a great mentor but I will only like him with proper character development

also where did Snape being Draco’s godfather come from? I don’t think this was in the books? I’m not angry, just confused

I read a fic that was so sad that I was physically unable to finish reading it -- actually I read two of those, one of them was a DID fic and the other Voldemort adopted Harry

the Voldemort one is quite possibly the most tragic thing I have ever read and even though it’s been two weeks I still haven’t been able to recover -- I was only halfway finished too GOOD LORD

another fic I read that was so fucking depressing was a time loop situation where Harry literally couldn’t get out of and it ended tragically

obscuris Harry is interesting but I really only like the ones where Newt is actually involved but I couldn’t find any finished ones

I don’t like it when Harry’s appearance changes, it throws me for a loop

there was this one where Harry got sent back in time and his figure got disfigured and so he didn’t even appear like himself anymore

I just find it odd for Harry Potter not to look like Harry Potter, idk

I also have a headcanon that his hair is very curly rather than shaggy

I haven’t been able to find a fic where Harry goes back in time to the Marauders era and has the right amount of angst but the right amount of fluff

I’ve read some good ones where the Marauders travel to Harry’s time but like,,, it isn’t quite what I’m looking for? I’m gonna have to write it, aren’t I? 

this doesn’t happen with irondad fics, literally everything you’ve ever wanted you can find it there

I read one where Harry did go back in time but she (fem!Harry) didn’t really interact with her parents or the Marauders that much, she became friends with Regulus instead

Regulus should’ve been in Gryffindor

I’ve not only read fics where Draco has been a Ravenclaw, Slytherin, but also a Gryffindor. I haven’t found one where he’s in Hufflepuff

I’ve read fics where Harry’s in every single house - the Ravenclaw one might be my favorite so far, it had to do with him going to a different timeline where there’s another Harry and he’s a major dick

Hufflepuff Harry one was funny, but it got distressing cause Dumbledore didn’t trust him and tried to get him expelled

actually the Hufflepuff one made my heart hurt cause Harry was put in the body of a Harry who isn’t the boy who lived and barely spoke and was basically like an even more traumatized Neville

Slytherin Harry is everything to me and he should’ve been in Slytherin

Ravenclaw Draco is something that can be so personal

I’m tired of reading Year One fics, I get it, there’s a stone, let’s move on

Year Four fics are my favorite however, there was one (which is my favorite) where Harry’s a necromancer and in the graveyard scene he calls corpses from the graves alive to help him get out of there it was so cool

I am partial to Harry/Draco but Harry/Luna is cute

there was a Pokemon Harry/Luna one that’s adorable and I’ve read it twice already

I like when there’s a ton of lore involved

especially Hogwarts lessons - like ancient runes can fucking get it, I love runes fics

there was an MCU AU one where I read Harry didn’t have his magic anymore, not as potent as it was, but he did have ancient runes

LISTEN I tried to get into Dark!Harry but after that Voldemort adoption one I can’t do it anymore, I will start crying literally right now -- he just wants to be fucking useful! He just wants to be loved! Is that too much to fucking ask for? 

however Harry doing dark!magic but isn’t actually on the dark side is cool

Death Eater Spy Draco! It makes me distressed but also I am so here for it!

Jenkins if you’re out there I love you (if you get this reference I love you)

I read a ton of Avengers adopt Harry when he’s younger but I don’t care for younger Harry fics, I prefer when he’s a teenager and I don’t have to read the first few years at Hogwarts, it can get repetitive

Give me all the angst with Harry being a horcrux please, I’m living for the drama

Lily is not a fan favorite weirdly enough, when the Marauders are in fics she’s usually not there which is unfortunate because I just really want a good Harry/Lily bonding moment

one of the saddest fics I read was where harry, luna, hermione and neville find themselves in an alternate dimension where Lily and Remus are married and alive, James is a dick but has other kids, and every single person that had died in their world is alive

I don’t like it when there’s Ron bashing, he’s one of my favorites, but if I have to, I’ll read some of them

there was this Sherlock fic (listen, I went in fucking deep, it’s been a weird month) where fem!Harry is on the run from the Ministry because I don’t actually understand and Ron and everyone is out for blood for her

Eleventh Doctor/Harry is a pairing I was not aware of but I actually kind of love?

Master of Death Harry is fucking OP and I love him for that

mcu aus is something I never knew I needed

Holly Potter and the Midlife Crisis is fucking everything

So is On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads, I realized it was the same author when I read in the author notes that the author was going to some volcano convention thing and I was like this is way too niche for it to be a coincidence

I’ve read Tony is Harry’s dad, Loki is Harry’s dad, Harry is just weird friends with Thor, ones where Natasha is Harry’s aunt

listen everyone is related to this boy

I will not read a fic if it doesn’t involve Harry, he’s my boy, he’s my love, I care only about him and him only I’m so sorry

you know that meme where people say nobody’s favorite character is harry potter, the titular character? Well meet me! He’s my favorite!

in battle of hogwarts fics, Remus almost always dies. Why is that? Why do you guys hate him so much? It’s always half and half for Fred, I never know if he’s going to live or not

In all of the good fics I’ve read I saw in the collections area of ao3 the same collection and I was like! You get me! 

if it says Gammily’s Bookshelf on the fic, it’s gonna be a really fucking great fic let me just tell you that right now

Parseltongue gets me so riled up, I fucking love Parseltongue, it’s so cool

there’s a reason I usually filter out non/c*n but I decided to let it flow and I ran into a few that fucking d e s t r o y e d me why do you guys read shit like this, it broke my heart

that being said I read one that was really nuanced and actually really good but it’ll never be finished and I’m very mad about that

Either we have a better understanding of how goblins could be utilized  than JKR or we’re just ignorant of how powerful they can be

weird coincidence that I’ve read two completely different fics where Harry thought having a threesome meant kissing three different people

Dumbledore’s a bitch and I hate him, every fic I’ve read so far agrees with me

there is a person out there that is CARRYING the bucky barnes/harry potter pairing on their back and I hope whoever that is knows how much I appreciate them

remind me never to click on a fic that hasn’t been updated since 2015 ever again, C’est La Vie I will miss you so

this is just a fucking quarter of the harry potter fics I’ve read but thanks for reading if you did, let me know if you want to know some of the titles

[ayyyeisa]

Home

Pairing: Eren Jaeger x Mikasa Ackerman

Word Count: 9.7k

Content: Modern! AU, fluff, angst, best-friends-to-lovers trope

Content Warnings: PTSD, alludes to alcohol

Summary: Childhood best friends Eren and Mikasa go through a series of ups and downs throughout their life, struggling to realize what exactly their relationship is

Notes: Thank you to everyone who helped edit this piece! I really appreciated all the feedback you gave me <3

Prologue

They’ve always been told that they’ve been friends since the moment they were born, and it was difficult to argue against it because it really did feel like it’s been a lifetime of friendship. There has never been a moment where one isn’t with the other. It had never been just Eren, and it had never been just Mikasa. No matter where they were and when it was, it was always (and always will be) Eren and Mikasa. The girl, Mikasa, even claimed to have known her friend Eren in her life before, and although he'd never admit it in front of anyone but Mikasa (in fear that his older brother would make fun of it), he did too. At 28, their friendship definitely had quite a few ups and downs, but if they learned one thing during their years of being best friends it was that they both wanted one thing more than anything in the world: to be with each other. That was it. It didn’t matter, when, where, with who, or for what reason. Just to be in the presence of one another was enough to make them happy.

27 Years Ago (4 months old)

Eren and Mikasa were born just barely two months apart, so it was no surprise that they wouldn’t even remember meeting as babies. As their parents were good friends, the couples jokingly tried to make their children be friends too, by making sure they saw each other frequently. Mikasa and Eren’s moms held their babies across from one another so they could see each other again. It was the first time they officially met, excluding the time the Ackerman family came to visit Carla when she gave birth to Eren. The moment baby Eren had set his big, forest green eyes onto Mikasa’s brown ones, he had tried to reach out to her, going as far as untangling himself from the red scarf (a gift given at his baby shower, though because of his size, could not be used as an actual scarf yet) that his mom used to swaddle him. Unfortunately, from his lack of motor skills, the little girl was awoken by Eren's hand. Mikasa shrieked, upset that she was pulled from her sleep. Zeke, Eren's senior by ten years, freaked, immediately apologizing to Mikasa's mom about Eren. "I'm so sorry Auntie! I'm sure Eren didn't mean it. Please don't be mad."

The woman just let out a light-hearted laugh. "It's alright Zeke. Look, Mikasa is fine now. Besides, her and Eren seem to be getting along pretty well," she said as she watched the two babies looking at each other, arms flailing like an octopus's legs in an attempt to reach each other. Mikasa had gotten a hold of an end of Eren’s swaddle scarf and was lightly tugging at it, while Eren continued to reach forward until his small hand lightly touched Mikasa’s forehead. They were giggling, almost as if they were keeping a secret.

23 Years Ago (5 years old)

It was their first day of first grade. They had been smart enough to go to school a year early. Yes, they. Mikasa refused to start school without Eren, and he refused to go without Mikasa. They were a team, never leaving each other’s side. The teachers were a bit surprised at first when they refused to sit with different people, but they soon got the message. Many actually found it quite cute. Eren had many girls crushing on him (yes, he was a very cute boy, and eventually grew up to be a handsome man). Although the girls didn’t completely understand their emotions at that age, they refused to believe that the cute boy prefered Mikasa over all of them. This of course was bad for Mikasa since it led her to having enemies from a young age. Even if she didn’t need total protection from them, she still had Eren to help. He was, however, useless when his own fangirls chased him around the playground. Though he always proudly claimed "As if I would even think of hitting a girl,” Mikasa was there to help him out when they chased him.

Not even a week in, Eren had met a boy named Armin-- a short and shy young blonde, who always seemed to be in the little library corner of the classroom. He was as smart as Misaka and Eren, if not smarter, therefore he also started a year early. The older boys were constantly making fun of Armin for his short stature, yet what caught Eren’s eyes the most was how no matter the power difference, Armin did not seem to back down. Even as the bullies picked and teased at him, he held his head high.

When Eren approached one day to ask why, Armin would simply state “I haven’t lost yet if I refuse to back down.” And it was that bravery, even in the most dire of situations, that had Eren grinning.

Hands on his hips, he announced, “my name is Eren, but you probably already knew that. And that girl over there,” Eren paused to point at Mikasa, who was watching from across the room to make sure Eren wasn’t getting himself into trouble, “is Mikasa. Let’s all be friends. Mikasa! C’mere! This is Armin and he’s super cool and smart.” After gesturing her over, he turns back to Armin with a grin on his face. “Mikasa is super cool too. She’s smart like you, and really strong. She’s my best friend, and I’ve known her my entire life. I just know we’ll all get along,” he said happily while readjusting his scarf.

And right he was, for that was the beginning of the trio’s epic friendship.

21 Years Ago (7 years old)

He took her hand, and led her to his horse. Just like how the leaves were swept away by the wind, so were they. If you watched, you’d see the horse getting smaller and smaller as they rode farther away. But maybe, if you listened, you would hear the princess’s and prince’s joyful laughter- a truly happy ever after ending for them.

“No, no, no, no!” That’s not what happened in my dream! If I remember correctly, we lived in a castle!” Eren exclaimed. He didn’t know where Mikasa got that dream before.

“Well, I’m just telling you what I saw in my dream. Maybe you’re the one with bad memory,” she snapped back, a frown on her face as she lightly tugged on the red scarf he always kept around his neck.

For the past couple months, they had been dreaming of being together in a number of lives. They often fought about them in front of Armin, constantly asking him which one of the two dreamt the right dream. Poor Armin. Luckily, the boy had a knack for reading any and every book he could find, and he decided to do something about it before the fight could escalate again.

“Maybe you two remembered different parts of your old life, and maybe even different lives. You never know, you could have been a prince or princess more than once,” he proposed.

Mikasa’s brows quirk in confusion. “You think so?” she asked.

Eren, on the other hand, fully trusted the other boy, knowing just how smart he was from all the reading he’s done. Grinning, he proudly stated,“Don’t doubt Armin, Mikasa. He’s super smart. I bet he’s right with just about everything.”

“Really?” the girl excitedly asked. “Wait, so Armin, do you know how babies are made?”

Omake:

Eren: “Of course he does! He read it in a book and told me. A stork plucks a baby from a pond and delivers it at night.”

19 Years Ago (9 years old)

“We were super cool ninjas with powers! Like Naruto!” Eren exclaimed, jumping, kicking, and punching the air as if he was fighting an imaginary person. His red scarf danced and swayed along with him as he energetically moved around. He briefly paused to glance at Mikasa, excited to see her reaction, when he saw her expression. It had his previously bright, green eyes dulling into a light grey color. Furrowing his eyebrows, he asked, “You okay Mikasa?”

She sat there, a worried look on her face. “Eren, will my mom be okay?” Even though she was young, she knew something went wrong when her mom had her. Her mom was always happy, yet sad when talking about Misaka's birth. She overheard one night from her parents that having Mikasa was very difficult for them, let alone having another child.

This question always broke his heart- no matter how many times he’s heard it. He stared at her for a moment before slowly walking to her, unwrapping his scarf off his neck. He stopped right in front of her-- her head right below his chin-- before taking his scarf in two hands and wrapping it around her neck instead. Finishing up the last loop, he messily placed the last few inches on top of her head before taking a seat next to her on the couch.

“I don’t know Mikasa. I don’t know. But you’re going to be okay, I promise.”

Eren had said “you’re” not “it’s,” and she couldn't be more thankful. The little boy could not promise that everything would be okay, but he could promise that she would. Why? Because she still had a home. Because he was there. And he always would be.

“I’m right here. And if you ever need more comfort, whenever and wherever we are, I’ll just wrap that scarf around you again,” he stated confidently. He hugged Mikasa, who in turn hugged him back before they laid down facing each other.

“You’ll really do it? You’ll wrap the scarf around me just like you did in the dream I told you I had last night? That one’s my favorite dream-- but I like all of our other dreams too. Promise me we’ll always talk about them. No matter how old we are, we’ll still tell them to each other, okay? Promise me,” Mikasa prompted as she rested her hand in between them.

It was no surprise when Eren gave her a small smile while stating “Promise,” before reaching out with his hand to interlock his fingers with Mikasa’s.

18 Years Ago (10 years old)

At ten years old, Eren was starting to believe what the other boys in his grade were saying about girls. At first, he tried to fight back and ignore their stupid antics, but he hated the fact that people thought Mikasa was stronger than him. He didn’t want her protection; he wanted to protect her.

“Why does she always speak for you, anyway?” one of them would ask.

“She’s a girl; shouldn’t you be stronger?” another would add.

“Don’t forget that girls have cooties.”

“She’s just plain scary too.”

Eren could feel his cheeks heat up at the comments, and if the boys were paying close attention, they would’ve seen his eyes turn a stormy grey. Whether it was from embarrassment of being below Mikasa, or anger of someone daring to badmouth her, he didn’t know.

“Don’t say that about Mikasa. Girls should be strong, and there’s nothing wrong with not being quiet and dainty,” he loudly proclaimed. But while his heart was burning to continue defending Mikasa, a part of him couldn’t help but hate the situation he was in. Why was Mikasa always the one to protect him, and why did it bother him so much?

Weeks had passed, and Mikasa noticed how Eren seemed to be avoiding her. Was it what everyone was saying about them? Or was it something else? The only other thing she could think of was when she gave him a nice punch (a well-deserved punch at that) for being an idiot and getting into trouble again. Because of him, they both had to stay in the classroom writing apology letters during recess-- it’s not like she was going to let him fight those bullies alone. But he couldn’t be THAT mad at her, could he? The jerk sort of deserved it. It broke her. But, Mikasa being Mikasa, she decided to confront him today.

“Eren, why are you ignoring me? Are you okay? Did something happen?” she asked.

“I’m not ignoring you, okay? Why can’t you just let me be and do my own thing. You’re not my mom, and I'm not your kid brother. I don’t need you around all the time, and I definitely don’t always need your help.” Eren spat, irritated.

Just as he was about to leave, Mikasa spoke again. “So you’re saying that I’m not important.”

Eren, caught off guard, froze. “No! I never--”

“You’re saying that those other boys, your other friends, are more important than me and that what they think matters more than me.” Mikasa clarified, tears starting to swell up in her eyes.

...1 second...

...2 seconds…

Gears were turning in Eren’s head, realizing what he’d almost done to their friendship-- what he’d almost done to Mikasa, his Mikasa, his best friend. He could feel his anger subside, and Mikasa saw his grey eyes slowly brighten to green. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it that way. Why don’t you come over today? We can play tag and hide and seek… Or I could even play with the dolls you made. You made one of me, right? Just the two of us. I promise this won’t happen again.”

“Good. I like Auntie Carla’s cooking. We’re walking home from school together, okay? Like old times,” she simply stated before walking away. She was not going to take any chances of Eren saying no. Of course, Mikasa expected his previous response. As much as Eren had been avoiding her, she truly trusted him to always come back. He always did. She could bet her life (and heart) on it.

17 Years Ago (11 years old)

Lunch was going well for the first day of 6th grade. It was an odd transition from eating with classmates in their grade level to being able to eat with just about anyone that attended their school. Eren, Mikasa, and Armin were finishing up their lunch when they heard a voice.

“Your long black hair is… really beautiful, by the way,” a boy with ash-brown hair shyly says to Mikasa. His blush was evident on his light skin and he could barely look at the girl. His name was Jean Kirstein, a new classmate of the trio’s; and he annoyed Eren to no end. Who did this guy think he was? It was their first year at South Paradis Junior High-- there were so many other elementary schools that fed into here that it was unlikely that they’d know all their classmates. And yet, this boy was already coming straight up to Mikasa and complimenting her hair. Mikasa was a rare beauty and Eren’s best friend; she deserved the best and only the very best. He wasn’t going to let some horse face of a boy take a chance with her.

Armin noticed Eren’s frown and how his eyes were a dark grey. He honestly considered teasing him: “Of course you’d be the petty, jealous type.” That’s all he had to say. It was fairly easy, and Armin was quite sure that voicing that thought would have Eren in a stuttering mess trying to deny it all. He’d probably be so busy denying it that he would’ve spent more time arguing with Armin than acting on his jealousy. Though against his better judgement, Armin kept his mouth shut, allowing Eren to speak up.

“Mikasa,” Eren said softly as he grabbed a piece of her hair, “aren’t you trying out for the martial arts team? You should cut your hair. You could get into an accident.” Eren didn’t even bother glancing at Jean; he opted for keeping his gaze on Mikasa as he waited for an answer.

“Yeah… you’re right. I should probably cut it,” she stated as she absentmindedly grabs the same strand Eren was holding, their fingers grazing one another in the process. Eren would never admit it, but his fingers burned right where his and Mikasa’s briefly touched. The physical contact didn’t last long, but he could still feel the warmth she emulated when he went to bed that night. He didn’t know why, though.

13 Years Ago (15 years old)

It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school that Eren realized just why he felt that way-- why he always had the urge to protect Mikasa to the point that her being stronger than him made him angry, why he was always hit with an overwhelming feeling of jealousy whenever Jean was anywhere near her, why his skin started burning at her slightest touch. It wasn’t until sophomore year of high school that Eren realized just why he started to look at his best friend a little differently, why she always lingered in his thoughts a bit longer and a bit more than everyone else.

He was, unfortunately, stupid enough to make homecoming plans without Mikasa. Last year, the two of them and Armin had all gone together, but Armin was finally going with Annie this year. It was of the utmost obviousness that those two had something going ever since she transferred to their school in 7th grade. Annie was a quiet girl who usually kept to herself, maybe occasionally speaking with Bertholdt and Reiner since they transferred from the same school. But otherwise, it seemed as if only Armin was able to break through her shell. It was honestly quite ironic how Eren and Mikasa often teased Armin for his incapability to express his feelings, when he could’ve easily pointed out theirs. The ache in his heart when Annie was away --the way he constantly missed her and wished she was around-- was no different from what Eren and Mikasa secretly told Armin when they were apart. How could Eren and Mikasa not know?

“Historia asked me to homecoming,” Eren had told Mikasa one night after they both respectively finished martial arts and baseball practice. He could see the small glare she gave him, as she stared at him for what felt like hours without saying a word.

“Okay, then just ask her out.” Mikasa didn’t even try to hide her annoyance.

“It’s not like that. I don’t-- There’s nothing-- We’re not like that. I think she’s just pretty bummed that Ymir moved and needs a friend. You know she doesn’t have that many ‘cause her dad’s been sheltering her. You can come with. I told her that I was planning on going with you,” Eren replied. It’s not like he wanted Mikasa to feel left out or unimportant. One of his friends needed his help, and he would never-- could never-- turn his back on a friend. They were the most important people in the world to him, almost on the same level as his parents, Armin, and Mikasa. Of course he would be there if one of them ever needed a hand.

And it was because Mikasa knew him so well that she tried to control herself. Mikasa wanted to argue-- wanted to tell Eren that there were plenty of other people Historia could’ve asked. She had Sasha, Connie, and Jean too. She could’ve even asked her. Why did it have to be specifically Eren? She was jealous, she acknowledged that, because all she ever wanted was to be near Eren. The thought of him belonging to some other girl hurt so badly. For him to have another home besides her, for her to not be able to call him her home-- she didn’t know if she wanted to even be alive if that were to happen. Eren was everything to her. But another part of her just wanted to let it be. If Eren was happy, and as his best friend, shouldn’t she be happy for him too? All she ever wanted was to be near him. Romantic relationship or not, she already had that. Eren cared about her and Armin more than anyone in the world; she has everything she’s asked for. Shouldn’t that be enough?

“No, it’s ok. You don’t need to explain. She needs a friend, and I think you should go. Jean and I were talking in class today. He actually offered for us to join their group because Sasha and Connie wanted to do a whole extravagant group meetup, with pictures and food and everything. I’ll just tag along with them,” her lips drew into a straight line in an attempt to smile. She knew Eren well enough to know that he knew --that she knew-- that he knew that it was most definitely not okay. But to her dismay, neither acknowledged the elephant in the room nor the growing tension between them.

Eren didn’t want to. He was too busy feeling the blood rushing through his ears at the mention of Jean asking Mikasa out. There was only one other time he remembered feeling this jealous-- it had been all that time ago, when they first met Jean back in 6th grade. The horse face had told Mikasa her long, black hair was beautiful, and while Eren agreed, it pissed him off to no end that someone other than him was looking at Mikasa. Of course, it was no surprise that many boys and girls were looking at her-- she was beautiful and strong and everything that a woman should be. But having random people look at her didn’t compare to the jealousy he felt when it came to Jean. Eren wanted Mikasa all to himself. But what right did he have to whine and complain when he was the one to bring up taking Historia to the dance? Jealousy was an ugly feeling, and he hated how accustomed he had gotten to feeling it. Stupid Jean, stupid world, stupid homecoming, stupid him. Oh how he hated himself more than ever for putting himself in that situation. All he ever wanted was to be with Mikasa, and here he was doing the opposite-- here he was starting a small rift between them. One stupid statement, and he already felt far, far away from home.

12 Years Ago (16 years old)

It was concerning, really, how months later, Eren and Mikasa still couldn’t address the divide between them. While the two often got into small arguments before, they were usually solved within a week, if not immediately. This was the first time that it ever lasted more than a few days, if this could even be considered an argument. They were talking, but something felt off-- both of them could feel it. Mikasa didn’t want to push boundaries. Eren was still her friend; he was safe and nearby, so could she really complain? As for Eren, he could feel the ache of Mikasa’s absence run deeper than his heart. It made him sick in a way he couldn’t completely describe— like he was homesick or something.

While he saw her everyday at school, she often paired up with Armin or Jean instead. While he ate lunch with her at the same table as their friend group, she usually spent her time listening to Sasha ramble on and on about meat and food and the so-called cute senior in her culinary class named Niccolo. Even when he was sitting right next to her in the driver’s seat as he dropped her home after practice, their conversations ran shallow. He missed their inside jokes and their talks about their dreams. For months, he’d been wanting to tell her his recurring dream of one of their past lives. How every night, his sleep would send him to the peaceful mountains of Switzerland, where he lived in a tiny cottage with her. They were alone-- isolated from society-- and they often needed to fish, hunt, and gather their own food, but they were together. They were together and they were happy, and God help him, that’s all he ever wanted.

He wondered that of the many other dreams she’s had of what they presumed to be their past lives, if she saw that same dream too. He hoped so. He hoped that when he was away, she felt that same ache too. He hoped that in the same way no one could ever replace her in his heart, no one would ever replace him in hers. Call him selfish, but he wanted Mikasa all to himself-- wanted to be the only person that would ever claim her heart. He didn’t want anyone-- not Jean, not even Armin-- to have Mikasa. So why was he letting her slip through his fingers?

It wasn’t until months later, near the end of summer, that the two finally resolved whatever issue was going on. With school out, Historia rarely saw anybody outside her friends, and even then, she was only really comfortable around Eren-- only he knew the pain of missing someone. Historia knew he was suffering. He never told her-- never really told anyone except Armin-- how he felt about Mikasa, but Historia could see the longing in his eyes whenever he gazed at Mikasa and the sadness they held whenever he talked about her. And it was for this reason that she refused to leave Eren alone. He needed a friend, and so did she. There was no way she’d abandon him-- no way she would abandon anyone in need.

Over summer, the two started volunteering at homeless shelters and orphanages. They’d occasionally invite the whole group over: Sasha, Connie, Jean, Mikasa, Armin… There were days that the seven of them would volunteer during the day and go out for dinner in the evening to catch up. But the amount of time that the group met up was nothing in comparison to the amount of time Historia and Eren spent together. It was evident in the way they talked at their group outings, and it didn’t help with the growing tension between Eren and Mikasa either.

Seeing them together, seeing them so happy-- seeing Eren so happy without her-- had Mikasa feeling things. Was she missing something-- a component or aspect that maybe was pushing Eren away from her? Or was she too overbearing? What did Historia have that she didn’t? There must be a reason why Eren seemed to be wanting to spend more time with the other girl as opposed to her. She missed seeing Eren’s smile and his happy, green eyes. She was both angry and hurt, and while she knew she had no right to speak, for she was Eren’s best friend, not his lover, she could only take so much before snapping.

She hadn’t meant to say it; at least, not out loud and most definitely not in front of Eren, but her jealousy got the better of her. Historia and Eren were once again telling the group about some project they went on the other week to help orphans in a different country. They were laughing and reminiscing about the troubles they went through during their time there when Mikasa spoke.

“We get it. You guys had a great time,” her voice dripping with disdain as she glared at Historia. It wasn’t until Mikasa noticed everyone staring at her that she realized the rudeness of what she had said. Hesitantly, she said “Sorry. I’ve, uhh, I’ve had a rough few… months. I’m just gonna go,” before hastily leaving the table.

“Wait!” Historia called after her.

“We haven’t even ordered anything yet, aren’t you hungry?” Jean added.

She ignored them both, though, and opted to continue walking out of the restaurant, even as the others tried to call out after her.

Armin used that distraction to nudge Eren’s side. “Eren,” he whispered sternly, grinding his teeth together. “It’s now or never. Don’t let it get worse. Are you really going to let her go?”

And it was because Armin knew both Mikasa AND Eren so well that he didn’t doubt that it was all he needed to say to get the guy moving. Not even a second later, Eren was scrambling off his chair and past his friends as he hurriedly followed Mikasa.

“Mikasa! Mikasa, wait. What was that? What’s wrong?” he asked. One of his hands was gripping her arm and holding her in place. He had tugged at it lightly so that Mikasa was slightly facing him, and his eyes desperately searched hers for an answer.

“Nothing,” she stated, trying (but failing) to keep her composure. It’s not like she could come out and say “Oh, I’m jealous of Historia. I hate how she spends a lot of time with you because I secretly love you, Eren.” She could barely admit that fact herself, let alone confess it to someone else.

Eren stared at her in wait, desperately wanting to know what they had and where they stood. Anyone watching could’ve easily seen it in his eyes. “Please,” he begged when she remained stubbornly quiet. “Please tell me what’s wrong. Don’t you miss the way things used to be? What’s happened between us?”

“Historia--”

“Historia and I are just friends! I already told you that, back during homecoming. Why did we drift apart just because of that? Why did it seem like you weren’t interested in talking to me anymore? Why did we stop hanging out everyday?” Eren urged Mikasa to answer. He was already fighting back tears, when one question that had been nagging at him the past few months made its way out his mouth. “Why did we stop talking about our dreams?! Didn’t we always promise to talk about them? Have you given up on a useless idiot like me?”

Seeing Eren cry stopped Mikasa in her tracks. She stopped trying to get her arm out of Eren’s grip and settled for looking at him straight in the eyes, near tears herself. “Eren,” she says with soft urgency. It was only then, when he felt her sad gaze on him and lack of resistance against his grip, did Eren completely let go of Mikasa. She grabbed both his shoulders, giving him the slightest shake. “Don’t say that about yourself. Please. You’re not a useless idiot. It’s just-- I… really missed you. I’m sorry. I know you told me that you and Historia were just friends, but I didn’t like how jealous I felt. I wanted you only by my side, because it’s always been Mikasa and Eren, and Eren and Mikasa, and seeing you with someone else-- I… I don’t know. I guess, I’m not used to having to be apart from you. More than anything in the world, all I want is to be near you. When you kept visiting Historia and spending the summer with her, it just felt like you didn’t need me around anymore, or that you maybe didn’t want me around,” Mikasa confessed, her blush evident.

If Eren heard her correctly, then maybe she was feeling the same ache that he’d been feeling. Maybe, just maybe, she did love him the way that he loved her-- not as a sibling nor a best friend, but something more. He raised both his hands to grab her face, never breaking eye contact.

She could see how his previously gray eyes had started shifting over to green. Mikasa lifted her hands to hold onto his wrists needing to stabilize herself, as she felt like she would faint at any moment with the way Eren was holding her. Since when did his touch start making her knees so weak? And since when did his gaze start making her self-conscious and nervous?

“Mikasa,” Eren whispered, closing his eyes. He didn’t think he’d have the courage to look at her when their faces were close-- so close that their foreheads were nearly touching and he could feel the warmth of her shaky breaths on his face. “I’ll always want you with me,” he whispered softly as he tried to lean in. He wanted to kiss her-- wanted to know what it’d feel like to have her lips on his-- but what if he was wrong about his assumptions? What if Mikasa didn’t feel the same ache in her heart as he did? What if he was just like family to her and nothing more? If he kissed her and he was wrong, it’d for sure ruin their friendship, and the rift between them that they were currently trying to heal would be damaged for good.

He was too busy worrying about all that to realize that Mikasa, too, wanted to kiss him. He didn’t even realize the slight tilt up of her head nor the way her fingers lightly squeezed his wrists before she stopped in realization that he wasn’t actually going to kiss her. Neither of them wanted to make the first move in fear of ruining what they had-- whatever it was. And so instead, Eren went limp and rested his forehead against hers, eyes still closed, and Mikasa did the same. They didn’t move until Mikasa’s stomach growled.

“I knew you were hungry. It’s 7 o’clock and you usually eat an early brunch,” Eren laughed.

“Eren, your eating habits are worse than mine. You’re probably hungrier than me. Let’s go back inside,” Mikasa snapped back with a smile.

Things felt normal again and both were the happiest they’ve been in months. Their friendship was okay. Romantic relationship or not, they were still Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren-- they were still each other's best friend. They were together, and to them, that’s all that ever mattered in the world. They were home.

10 Years Ago (18 years old)

Many moments from the next few years were filled with awkward silence or slight tension, ones caused by the fight they had at 16. It was like the rift never fully healed, and that made it much easier to get into small fights. Maybe it was because much of the problem itself never went away. The arguments grew from insecurities and miscommunication; they were two teenagers stupidly in love, yet too scared to say anything. Regardless, it was Eren and Mikasa, and so the fights never lasted too long.

It was the last weeks of summer before the two had to go off to college, and unlike two summers ago, Eren made sure that they were making every last moment count. From getting ice cream to hiking at nearby state parks, Eren came up with plans to hangout every single day. He had to, especially because they’d be spending the next four years apart. Both were originally going to Purdue University, along with quite a few of their friends. Eren was going for aviation, Mikasa for elementary education, Armin for political science with a minor in oceanography, and Jean for business.

Unfortunately, times were cruel and news channels were filled with stories of a possible onslaught of World War III. It seemed surreal, but the growing tensions across many countries of the world had many people worrying if it was actually possible. Eren, in particular, found it interesting enough to change his mind about college. He still wanted to fly-- wanted to know the feeling of freedom-- but first and foremost, he felt a strong duty to protect his country because it’s where the people he loved lived. If the possibility of an oncoming World War III was true, Eren wanted to be prepared. He still hadn’t brought it up to Mikasa or Armin, his decision being so last minute.

He had spent countless nights contemplating on whether he should go or not. If he entered the military, he’d be signing his life away for four years. That’s four years of not being able to always see Mikasa, assuming he’d be able to hide it from her. He just had to keep his decision a secret long enough for Mikasa to not be able to follow him in. Eren knew that she wouldn’t hesitate to drop everything if it meant being able to be with and protect him, but if Eren cared about her the way he claims he does, shouldn’t he be protecting her too? They should be equals, not whatever this was. Just this once, he wanted to be the one protecting, even if it meant being apart from her.

And so, that’s how he came to the decision the night before Decision Day to enter the military as opposed to Purdue. It broke his heart and worried him to no end that for the next four years, he’d be far away from Mikasa-- far away from home. What if something happened while he was gone? Something bad, and he wasn’t there to help her through it? Sure, Jean and Armin would be there, and Mikasa would surely meet other people too. But would they be able to be there for her in the way she deserved? He knew Mikasa better than anyone else, even Armin, so could anyone really live up to his expectations of what he wanted for Mikasa? All these questions ran through his head as he drove Mikasa back home from the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, another one of the trips he planned.

Mikasa, not one to not notice Eren’s changes in behavior, glanced over at the driver’s seat, wondering why Eren suddenly got quiet. “Eren?”

At the sound of her voice, Eren was immediately pulled out of his thoughts. But one look at her, and he was filled with sorrow again. Soon, he’d have to leave her and it’d be another four years or so before they would be able to return to the old days, if going back to the old days was even possible. For all he knew, this could be the very last time they’d talk to each other like this again. These last few days could be the very last time that Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren are a thing. He wanted to make the most out of it-- whatever time he had left. “Mikasa,” he stated before pulling over to the side of the road. He wanted to be sure he could clearly see her face, without any distractions. “Let's get out of here,” he continued, looking her in the eye.

She stared at him, observed his movements, the color of his eyes. They were a mix of green and gray, much lighter than his usual forest green eyes that signaled his happiness, but not exactly the stormy grey eyes he had when he was angry or sad either. It confused her, because in the rare times that she didn’t know what he was feeling, his eye color usually gave it away. But this time, it’s like he was both happy and sad. “What do you mean?”

Eren was practically quivering in fear that she’d be angry or reject what he was about to offer. But he kept reminding himself that these last few days would be the last time he’d see her in a long while. They’d be apart for the first time since they were born, and he wasn’t sure how either of them would be able to handle it. He looked away to gather his nerves before turning back around and taking a deep breath.

“Don’t be mad with what I’m about to say. Please.” Eren waited for her nod before continuing. “The night before decision day, I actually decided I was going to be joining the military-- the army. And before you even think of telling me you’ll join too, don’t. You needed to decide by decision day, so there’s no point in joining now if we’re going to be in different regiments. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just wanted to do this to protect everyone, while not influencing any of your decisions to pursue your dreams…” he paused again, waiting for Mikasa’s reaction.

The girl wanted to scold him for making such a hasty and dangerous decision. She didn’t know where to begin. The military was a four-year commitment, which meant that they’d be apart for four years. Would she be able to handle that? They had never been apart for anywhere near that long. And what if the military changes him? Even if he didn’t get deployed, he’d still have to go through basic training and the like. She had heard stories of how the military, even just camp, changed people. What if some part of him never comes back from that? Would he still be her Eren-- the same Eren?

“Mikasa, stop thinking about it. Let’s just… enjoy what time we have left of summer break, okay? I told you this because I was hoping you’d say yes to what I’m about to ask you. For the last few days of summer, let’s go to Switzerland, in Crans-Montana-- in between the mountains where we went on that band trip junior year. Remember how Armin and I climbed the balcony on the third story of the building, just so we could spend the night talking about the most random things? We stayed up till sunrise and nearly got caught staying together in the same bedroom,” he chuckled. “Let’s go there again. Just the two of us. Mikasa, come with me. It wouldn’t be home with you.”

Mikasa, who was shocked and deep in thought, could only manage to give him a small smile before taking the opportunity to reach over the console and grab one of Eren’s hands. “One condition: you wrap this scarf around me one last time, okay?”

6 Years Ago (22 years old)

“Hey Mikasa, have you heard from Eren? I don’t think I’ve received any letters from him in a while,” Armin said.

Their usual group was having a meet-up at their favorite restaurant, a celebration for finishing finals; they’d be graduating in less than a month’s time. And yet, there was a sort of sad or empty feeling to the group, as Eren wouldn’t be home for another 6 months or so. He had to finish his military contract, and there was no way for him to visit at the moment due to his most recent deployment.

“No, I haven’t; the last letter was from a few weeks ago. I think he’s busy. Last I heard, he was deployed somewhere in the Middle East,” Mikasa replied softly.

“Have you told him already?” asked Jean. He gently placed his arms across her shoulders from his seat next to her.

Even from across the table, Armin could see the ring glistening on his finger. He had read somewhere that only about 7% of men actually wore engagement rings; he wasn’t surprised that Jean was of that percentage. It matched the diamond on Mikasa’s hands that were resting on the table. Armin didn’t know how to feel about the entire thing. Mikasa did genuinely look happy, and she deserved every bit of it. So did Jean, especially after all that he’d done for Mikasa when Eren wasn’t able to be there for her. It wasn’t really in his place to judge— what did he know about love? It had taken him years to spend time with Annie, and even then, it took many more awkward conversations and longing glances for them to establish the bond between them. So maybe it did make sense for Mikasa to accept Jean’s proposal. While everyone felt Eren’s absence, he was sure that he and Mikasa felt it the most.

Jean was always there to comfort Mikasa, even when Armin couldn’t. He never overstepped his boundaries, knowing that it was improper to make a move on someone whose heart belonged to someone else, but as the time between Eren’s letters lengthened, the more Jean found himself attending events with Mikasa, or being left alone to study for classes together since Armin wanted surprise Annie, until one day she started smiling at him almost the same way as she did to Eren. A part of him initially wondered if Mikasa really did love him, or if she just appreciated his presence. But those doubts didn’t last long because it just wasn’t like Mikasa to do something like that.

Mikasa was glad that he did believe her when she said she loved him, because she did. Jean was kind and funny; he was hardworking, empathetic, and an amazing leader. She saw how he treated his peers and subordinates with respect and often put himself in their place to make sure they received the best treatment. He also smiled at her in this certain way. She couldn’t describe it, but it made her heart flutter. She loved having him around because he was one of the only people that filled the void of Eren’s absence. She loved when he would pull out a chair for her on lunch and dinner dates, when he brought her breakfast at her dorm in the mornings, and when he helped her put on her jacket even when she didn’t need help. She loved him-- Jean; she really did. But she also knew a part of her would never really let go of Eren, not completely.

“No, I haven’t,” Mikasa stated hesitantly. “I thought he should find out in person, especially since it’d be awkward for me to ask him to be my maid of honor when he’s not even a girl,” earning snickers from Sasha and Connie, who were also seated with them.

“Wait, so you guys have been engaged for months now, and Eren still doesn’t know?” Annie asked, her voice blunt.

Armin lightly kicked Annie’s foot under the table. “Annie,” he softly warned. The two stared at each other as Jean attempted to break the awkward atmosphere.

“No, it’s all good. We wrote to him saying that we started dating, but I guess we’re waiting to tell him about the engagement. He’s on Mikasa’s side after all. He deserves to hear it from her, whenever she’s ready.”

. . . . .

It wasn’t until Annie and Armin were on their way home from lunch did Annie dare to speak again. “Correct me if I’m wrong,” she started. “But Jean’s just in denial that Mikasa is prolonging the engagement because a part of her will never stop loving Eren,” she tells Armin

“I don’t think he’s in denial… Just that, a part of him-- well, a part of all of us-- know that Eren will always have a place in Mikasa’s heart. It doesn’t mean she won’t move on with her life. Though, I will admit that I think Jean deserves someone who will love him completely.” Armin said. And though Annie remained silent, he knew her well enough to see the slight hesitation in her actions, as if she was contemplating on whether or not she should say something. “Eren’s always been adventurous, wanting to explore the world rather than stay here; he’s always been a small distance from Mikasa and me, no matter how close we try to be to him. I think--” he paused, trying to process his thoughts into words. “I think that he just needs time to understand what she means to him. They both do.”

1 Year Ago (27 years old)

The wait for Eren’s return came by slowly, and the way he took the news of Mikasa and Jean’s engagement was quite anti-climactic. Everyone in their friend group expected more, but he was just blank and glaze-eyed for what seemed like months after he returned home. Even years later, not much of his behavior changed. The military had not been what he expected. He went in excited to serve his country-- determined to protect his people and loved ones, no matter the sacrifices he had to make. But the horrors that awaited him were beyond anything he could imagine.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he could hear bombs, screaming, and gunshots, along with the sights of blood and blurred vision. He’d somewhat grown accustomed to it, at least on the outside. He no longer jolted at the slightest touch or immediately stood alert at loud noises. Unfortunately, he still felt far, far away. There were times when he didn’t feel like he was safe or at home, but in fear of worrying Mikasa and the others, he opted for staring blankly at his surroundings.

He could practically hear his mom nagging in his ear “How many times did I tell you to NOT join? Did I not tell you that the army isn’t worth it?”

Eren almost agreed. Almost. Because while a selfish part of him wished he stayed with Mikasa, he couldn’t exactly regret leaving. Yes, more than anything in the world, he wanted to be with her; It had been his dream when he was younger, and still was his dream now. But how could he compare his happiness to the lives of millions, or more importantly, his friends?

He hoped his unhappiness didn’t show too much-- hoped that his friends wouldn’t see how his jaw clenched in anger at the thought of not being able to be with Mikasa the way he was in his dreams.

But they did, at least, Armin and Mikasa did. They noticed because this new Eren, so emotionless and easily irritated, wasn’t him. It broke their hearts to see him so different. It broke Mikasa’s heart to see the caring and determined boy she grew up with-- the one that would do anything for his family and friends-- was just… gone. Her heart ached because she had waited so long, waited 4 years to see him again, only for it to seem like he never even came back. She wanted nothing more than to be able to hug him, ask him what the matter was, and tell him everything was going to be okay because she was there-- the same way he always did when she was out of it. She wanted to tell him she lov--. No, she couldn’t do that, because it wouldn’t be fair to Jean. It wouldn’t be fair to Jean who always cared about her well-being when Eren was gone, who never overstepped when he sensed something going on between her and Eren. It just wasn’t right for her to be saying any of that last part to Eren.

Not that it would change anything. It was like he was always angry. And whenever someone asked, he’d just rudely brush them off. Which is how Eren and Mikasa got into this position: as if the past few years have not already been filled with awkward glances and underlying tension, Eren and Mikasa were, once again, fighting.

Eren could only bite his cheek while shaking his head, “That’s just the thing, Mikasa. You don’t understand. You would never be able to, and you’ve just really been pissing me off lately. God, I hate you.”

“No, no you don’t. I know you, Eren,” she insisted softly.

He hated how it didn’t phase Mikasa, as if she was expecting him to say that or that his opinion didn’t matter to her. But while this was so, he hated even more her unwillingness to give up on him. Why wouldn’t she just let go. He doesn’t deserve any type of kidness-- not after abandoning her for some stupid dream in the military, not after letting some other man claim her, not after all the awful things he had to do while he was in the Middle East. He didn’t deserve any kindness from Mikasa-- he didn’t deserve her.

And yet, he was angry that Jean was with her, because even after everything Eren had done, he still wanted Mikasa to be his. He wasn’t mad at her-- God no, he could never be mad at her-- but he was mad at the entire situation and all his conflicting emotions.

His anger got the better of him, of course, and he continued speaking. “Don’t you think your life is so pitiful? I might be fucked up in the head, but at least I’m not stuck in a long engagement, working a regular 9-5 schedule like some robot who’s following orders. I actually have some interesting things going on in my life,” Eren sneered. He internally cringed at the harshness of his words when he saw Miaksa recoil. He hit her where it hurt, he was sure. Good. Maybe if she hated him, it’d be easier for him to move on with his life without her beside him.

It took Mikasa a second to recollect herself. She honestly wanted to cry, but with the way Eren had just treated her, she did not want to give him the satisfaction of it. “Okay,” she tried to calmly say. “You clearly don’t want me around, so I’m just going to go,” she stood up from the table they sat at before walking away. Maybe Eren was too far gone-- too far changed after his military service-- too bitter at how life turned out for him. She deserved better, right? It was okay to walk away after what just happened. Slowly taking off her red scarf --the scarf he had given her so many years ago when they were just 9 years old-- she didn’t dare to look back. It was too bad she didn’t-- if she did, she might’ve caught Eren shedding a tear before quickly wiping it away.

Present Day (28 years old)

“Mikasa, we need to talk,” Jean stated firmly. It had been months since Eren and Mikasa’s big fight, and while everyone in their friend group knew something happened, no one was actually sure what exactly went down. Years of being Eren and Mikasa’s friends taught them to stay out of it. They’d solve it eventually-- they loved each other too much to stay apart forever. Which is the thought that solidified Jean’s decision to do what he was about to do. “I think we should break our engagement,” Jean announced slowly and quietly, as if it pained him to say it-- it probably did.

Mikasa reached out to grab his hand, “Jean--” she started before pausing.

Jean outstretched his hand in a gesture to let him continue.

“I’ve thought about it a lot. There is no doubt in my mind that you do love me. I know that. But I also know that you’ll never love me in the same way you love Eren. Even after everything, you still have his scarf. Mikasa, love like what you guys have-- it doesn’t happen often. Don’t let him go,” Jean’s voice cracked at his own advice.

Mikasa couldn’t deny it-- she could only stare at him sadly while apologizing. What for? She didn’t know. Maybe for leading him on? Or not loving him as much as Jean deserved?

“Hey, it’s okay. I love you. I want you to be happy, and if that means letting you go, then I will learn to live with it,” Jean gave her a small smile.

It made Mikasa want to cry. She probably hurt him a lot, with him always knowing he wouldn’t live up to Eren, and yet here he was, being understanding, a gentleman. He was letting her go. “Thank you,” she whispered before she gently kissed his cheek.

And before Jean knew it, she was gone. Just like that. Everything seemed to run by in a blur that he hadn’t even realized how much time had gone. One second, he was watching Miaksa leave, and the next, he was sandwiched between Connie and Sasha at a bar. He had a drink in his hand that he didn’t even remember buying. Had he been drinking?

“Yo, you seem out of it, man,” Connie stated while hooking his arm around Jean. It earned him a nudge from Sasha, who muttered something about letting Jean wallow in his despair a little longer. He had just let Mikasa go after all-- someone who he’d loved for over a decade. “Uhh what I meant to say was, I hope you know that you deserve someone who will love you with all their heart, and all of their mind, body, and soul. Someday, you will find someone who makes you happy, then you’ll forget just how much this hurts,” Connie says, him and Sasha rubbing Jean’s back in comfort.

. . . . .

Mikasa was never one to back down from confrontation, so even she found it surprising when a week later, she still hadn’t talked to Eren. It’s not that she didn’t want to, but rather, didn’t know how. Luckily, Eren was impulsive as ever, and so everything seemed to fall back into place when he showed up at her doorstep one day.

“Hey,” he says with a short breath, as if he was trying to hide his exhaustion from running or whatever extraneous activity he was doing beforehand.

“Hi,” Mikasa replies, looking at his disheveled hair and the sweat-stained neckline of his shirt. Did he rush over here?

“I heard from Jean… about umm… about what happened,” he pauses, seeming to take a moment to gather his thoughts. “I’m sorry for all the trouble I caused you-- what I’ve been causing you. But I just wanted to tell you this before I lose my courage: I’ve uhh I’ve been having this dream for a while, practically forever. Of all our dreams, our past lives-- presumably, at least-- this one is my favorite. We were together in Switzerland, in this small cabin. There were trees everywhere and mountains in sight. Nothing ever really happened, except… normal everyday things. We hunted, fished, gathered wood… it was simple, but I was really, really really happy. I was happy because I was home with you. Those nights and my memories of that dream kept me going, even during my hardest times.” He notices how she was slowly registering what he said, so he gives it one last push. “What I’m trying to say is--”

“I know, sorry it took me a second,” Mikasa lightly laughs. “Why did you come back?” she dares to ask. It was a little awkward, like they haven’t been friends for the past 28 years.

Eren could only smile before grabbing her hands in between them, slightly hesitating. He grips them a little more tightly as if to stabilize himself. “Because we’re Eren and Mikasa, and Mikasa and Eren. Because you’re my best friend. Because I love you. Because you are my home, and I’ll always find my way home back to you.”

[emachinescat]

🤩 A fic that made you SLAM that “subscribe” button :)

Oooh, there are so many!

Probably my number one "slam" fic is one that's still unfinished lol:

Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Snare by SydneyWoo and Dragonnan on Psychfic. It hasn't been updated since 2017 and I still check regularly just in case it gets updated. And there's this one scene I have read so many times because it's just SO GOOD. I once finished a fic after 8 years, so maybe, one day...

Anyway, I don't want to just recommend a WIP though, so here are a few other "SLAM" fics for some of my favorite fandoms.

MacGyver: Jack Dalton: Helicopter Parent and Mac Interpreter Extraordinaire by dragonflysoul

Psych: Shall We Play a Game? by JR88fan

Merlin: To Serve and Protect by Ultrageekatlarge

Doctor Who: Loop by Sanguine Ink

Oh, and there's this one HTTYD fic that I am OBSESSED with. Unfortunately, the author has taken it down temporarily for editing, so there's no telling when it will be available again. When it is, I'll be sure to do a whole rec post for it.

I have so many more fic recs. Please send me ask if you want more! I have a HUGE list of fic recs for Psych, Doctor Who, Merlin, and MacGyver especially, with some HTTYD ones as well. :)

[feliix]

Patio Penetration ✦ PJM (18+)

✦  Pairing: Jimin x Reader ✦ Word count: 2k ✦  Rating: M 

✦ Genre: Smut, Romance, Fluff(ish), Established Relationship!AU ✦ Warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, explicit sex, creampie, fingering, teasing, dirty talk(?), Jimin has a big dick, like no foreplay, semi-public sex (maybe?), dom/sub themes (dom!jimin),a tiny bit of begging ✦ Summary: you burn your tongue on some takeout food and Jimin kisses it better

✦ Requested by @hobiance​ “time to unleash all of the requests ive been wanting to send u but didnt know i could heheheheh okay lets get this started. JIMIN + WINE.” and this anon “Hello!! I saw the drabble and thought maybe I could request from one of my favorite writers? 🥺 Could I have wine with our Jiminie? Maybe something about dates too 👉👈”

✦ A/N: Posting this at 3am because I have 0 self control and because Lainey told me to. also not edited bc its 3am and I’m nothing if not a mess ✦ Written for the BHQ Drinks and Drabbles game hosted by @bangtan-dreamland​​

It was a Saturday, and that meant it was date night. Tonight, Jimin had decided to pick up some takeout on his way home to have a little make-shift picnic on your patio. It wasn’t all that fancy, but it was intimate and it was special – just the way you like it.

Unfortunately, on Jimin’s venture home from the shop the food had become a little too cold for your liking. So naturally, you just threw what you could in the microwave for a minute or so and it was good as new.

Hot steam wafts off of your noodles and into the air, but that doesn’t stop you from digging in. Patience was a virtue, but it was not a virtue that you had ever learned.

Right on impact the hot noodles burned your mouth. Your immediate reaction is to suck air in through your teeth, attempting to cool down the temperature and relieve some of the pain from your burning tongue. An agitated groan leaves your mouth as you find the strength to chew and swallow your food – wincing from the burning feeling that was destroying your tastebuds.

Jimin glances in your direction, his eyes full of concern as his eyebrows quickly raise. By instinct he grabs the water placed beside you and hands you the glass. Graciously, you take it from his hand, chugging the ice cold liquid to soothe the blistering sensation garnering your mouth.

“Ow,” is the only word that you can muster out as you finish swishing the water around your mouth, momentarily easing the pain. With a deep sigh, Jimin raises from his seat, walking around the table to stand over you.

“Let me see,” he says, hand reaching for your chin to lift your head in his direction. As you tilt your head back you stick out your tongue for his viewing, the light chill of the air slightly easing the pain. He analyzes it closely, eyes narrowing in concentration as he looks at the affected area.

Sun still shining brightly onto your patio, you close your eyes. Once again you forgot to put on sunglasses before coming outside, big mistake. And then you feel it. His hot breath fanning over your face as he inches closer and closer. Your natural reaction to him being this close to you is to get turned on. How could you help yourself? He was just that attractive – even if he was just trying to be sweet and check your tongue for burns.

But you underestimate how sweet his intentions actually are. Or maybe they are, and the soft yet savory kiss that he leaves on your tongue was meant to be a sign of care. It could have been nothing more than just a nice gesture, but the arousal beginning to pool in your panties said otherwise.

You suck in a quick gust of air promptly in reaction to his plump lips meeting your tongue once again; you know this is no longer a gesture filled with good intentions. Snapping your head back into place, you meet his lust filled gaze. His eyes are narrowed and his tongue runs across his bottom lip enticingly. He’s taking in every inch of your body as he looks you up and down, and your stomach flips at the thought of him having you right here.

In an instance you are looping your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him in closer to you. When your lips meet his you feel a rush of relief, the heat traveling through your veins and to your core awakening as his hands begin roaming your body. His fingers trace the hem of your top, lifting it swiftly while breaking your heated kiss to remove the garment. The light breeze brushes against your now bare stomach, small goosebumps rising to the surface as you connect your lips with his once more.

“Here?” You ask in a whisper, your foreheads pressed together as your gaze turns downward to his crotch. Just as you suspected – he was already growing hard.

A mumbled “yes” was Jimin’s only response – well that and ripping your pants off your body so fast that you almost fell off the chair you were seated on. “Flip over,” he says as his hand meets the small of your back, guiding you to stand up. Hands placed down on the chair you were just sitting in, you bend at the waist, ass  pointed in his direction as he fumbles with the buckle of his jeans.

Your heart raced as you waited for him to make a move. Desire was growing high and arousal was dripping down your thighs. Of course, this didn’t go without Jimin noticing. His hand parted between your legs, grazing its way up your thighs as he made his way to your entrance. The last thing on your mind was the lingering burning sensation on your tongue.

“Already so wet for me,” you shiver at his words as his fingers circle your entrance. All you could focus on was his erect member rubbing at your ass as the pads of his fingers smeared the wetness along your slit. As a digit brushes past your clit you instinctively wince, so sensitive to his touch it was becoming difficult to control your body. A high pitched moan leaves your throat as he begins rolling your clit between his fingers, pinching it lightly, making you keen over in pleasure.

His fingers trace the extent of your slit back until they meet your entrance once more. Swiftly, his fingers dip into the arousal pooling out of your core. Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth. The slow movement of just one finger plunging into your depths taking your breath away in an instant.

As arousal drenched his fingertips butterflies erupt in your tummy. It was getting harder and harder for your legs to support you and your arms were wobbly and unstable. “I can’t hold out much longer,” you say between breaths , doing everything in your power not to lose control right then and there.

“Not yet,” he orders, an arm wrapping around your stomach to stabilize you as he hovered over your shaking body. With this new position you could feel his tip poking against your entrance, teasing you. And with that was the tip of the iceberg. Clamping your thighs together, Jimin’s hand became immobile; trapped between your legs and no longer able to tease you.

“Jimin if you don’t stop I’m going to cum,” you choke out, tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes from holding back your much needed release. With a sneer like laugh he retracts his hand, leaving a quick slap to your ass cheek on his way back. Your muscles tighten one again, the knot in your stomach slowly starting to dwindle as he takes his member in his hand.

Jimin slowly begins pumping his shaft, making sure to gather the precum at his tip and coat his member in a beautiful mixture of the both of your juices. Your legs remain clenched together as you try to suppress the desire flooding your system. All you wanted was him to fuck you right here and now, and you were in no mood to beg tonight.

Leaning slightly forward onto your elbows, you arched your back lower, lifting your ass higher to try and get his attention. He was taking far too long and focusing on catching your breath was more important than asking for what you wanted at this point. What better way to tell him to fuck you already than to rock your hips back, causing the tip of his cock to rest against your ass?

“Use your words, Princess,” a smirk grows onto his face as he takes notice of what you’re trying to do. An agitated whine soon leaves your mouth. You were too tired to beg, and he had already wound you up enough.

“Jimin please,” you moan, “please just fuck me already.” Leg bouncing impatiently as you wait for him, he finally lines himself up at your entrance. A steep gasp passes through your lips as his cock slides itself into you; your velvety walls squeeze the veiny ridges of his member as you take him in.

A string of curses leaves his mouth as his shaft slides into your cunt. The arousal spilling from your hole coating his cock as you clench around him. Jimin’s hands find their place on your hips, holding you steady as you adjust to his size. Even after all this time together, every time you have sex feels like the first. Maybe it was cliché to think so, but acclimating to his size would never be easy. 

It was comfortable. Even though you were on your back patio where your neighbors could see you at any moment, the setting was beautiful and everything in this moment was perfect. The sun was just beginning to set and the passing breeze chilled the perspiration beginning to gather on your skin. You’ve never felt better than you do in this moment – speared on your boyfriend’s cock while you waited for your food to cool.

As Jimin began thrusting in and out of you, your hands took grip on the sides of the chair, holding on for dear life knowing what was in store. His movements were beginning to quicken rapidly, the sounds of his skin colliding with yours and the deep moans echoing from his throat filling your ears. Your chest heaves deeper and heavier with each of his movements, soft whines bubbling past your lips as he meets new places within your core.

“Fuck you’re so tight,” he groans, teeth clenching as you squeeze tightly around him. The familiar knot in your stomach was making its way back to you. The repetitive tap of Jimin’s tip deep inside you had you too far gone. With one powerful thrust, you were coming undone around him. Your legs soon begin to crumble underneath you before his arms wrap around you to catch you from falling.

A gentle scream escapes your mouth as you ride out your high, Jimin’s pace only quickening to chase his own. The familiar tingling sensation begins to rush through your veins as oversensitivity starts to set in. When your eyes slam shut all you can see are stars, small white blotches blinding your vision as your pussy continues to spasm around him.

You aren't even able to catch your breath as your orgasm begins to subside. Jimin is too busy pounding into you, his hips meeting your ass with a slap as he bottoms out.

“Don’t pull out,” you say quietly. All that's on your mind is being filled to the brim with Jimin’s cum. You’re aching for his release, squeezing your core as hard as you can to ease it from him. The grip he holds on your waist tightens, his face scrunching as he focuses on chasing his high, “want you to fill me up.”

And with that, he was. Collapsing over you, he held you close as he reached his high. His heavy breathing fanned over the back of your neck, your shirt sticking to your back as beads of perspiration soiled the fabric.

“Love you,” he whispers in your ear, kissing just below it. You can feel the rise of his cheeks against your skin as he smiles. It was comfortable here, with him like this. Almost too comfortable for having sex out in the open like this, but it was past the point of caring as he held you tight in his arms.

“Love you more,” you whisper back as a grin stretches wide across your face.

“I think we might have to heat up the food again,” he chuckles before pulling out of you to look at the food placed neatly on the table.

“I’ll make sure I wait for it to cool down this time,” you giggle as you stand upright, legs still feeling jello-like as you search for your pants.

“I can think of something to do while we wait for it to cool,” Jimin smirks as you turn in his direction. His eyebrows are lifted suggestively, winking at you when you make eye contact. “Round two?”

'Patio Penetration’ is copyright 2020 @parksfilter​​​, all rights reserved. Pleas do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

[fantastic-nonsense]

you mentioned awhile back that you were revamping your dc comics fic recommendations? did you ever finish doing that and would you mind sharing them?

the answer is yes, I did finish it! For everyone not in the know, what happened was that I decided to move all of my fic recs lists to my Livejournal, because it’s a much easier format to put the lists together, keep them updated, and view them in. I'm still in the process of creating/editing a few of them (because I basically just moved some of them from Tumblr to LJ, so they're years out of date), but the masterlist can be found here (basically, don't go in my Doctor Who or Sherlock Holmes lists, they're still a WIP, but everything else should be good).

You can find my current catch-all DC fic recs list here, and my Young Justice fic recs list (which I separated out due to the high volume of YJ fics) here. Picking out a few of my Batfamily-focused ones in particular for easy viewing/clicking here:

as love carries its strength, but not its labels, by AlterHarpia: Bruce is on a trip beyond Earth’s Solar System for longer than he intended, making Dick and Damian fall into an old pattern. “I'm not Batman.” A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology.

Deluge in the Wasteland, by Silver Spider: Maybe she'd been wrong. Maybe she was hiding from the wrong person. It couldn't hurt just to see him one more time before... Bruce/Talia. Post-'Son of the Demon' AU.

(Note: ridiculously great Talia-centric fic, co-starring Jason)

For The City Sweetly Whispers, by Drag0nst0rm: "The first time Bruce hears the city speak, he thinks he's losing his mind. By the time Gotham's killed Dick's parents and forced a nine year old into the Robin suit, he only wishes that were true."

Into the Brighter Night, by shoalsea: When an unknown enemy threatens Robin, Gotham's vigilantes come together to keep him safe. Unfortunately, they're protecting the wrong Robin. Or: Tim Drake plans his own rescue. Things get complicated.

(Note: The emotional resolution I desperately wanted after the Batfamily's forward progress was halted in its tracks because of the reboot. All of the characters are wonderfully in character and no one is bashed on unncessarily. Also, bonus Young Justice feelings.)

Keep Your Head, Your Backbone, and Your Heart, by MrMich: The last thing that Duke expected on what was supposed to be just a regular patrol was being suddenly thrown five years into the past, coming face to face with a darker, more violent Batman than the one he knew, a broken family, and a Tim who was a foot shorter than Duke, and not even Robin yet. [Time Travel, Duke-centric with fun Duke-Bruce and Duke-Tim interactions]

Let the Rumors Fly, by Nokomis: Steph’s blissfully nondescript college life comes to a crashing end when she punches the Riddler in the nose during a study session.

The Macushla duology, by Hinn_Raven, starting with Macushla: Stephanie Brown is nine years old when her world falls to pieces. Whisked away from everything she's ever known, she finds herself in the court of Talia al Ghul, training to be an assassin. And when she ends up as Damian al Ghul's bodyguard, well her life just gets stranger from there.

(Note: one of my favorite Stephanie Brown-centric fics of all time. It's really incredible. Tim/Steph)

Oil and Watercolor, by dedicatedfollower467: The problem with soulmarks is when you give one much less vivid than you get. Damian knows that pain very well. A platonic soulmark AU where you leave colors on each other's skin the first time you touch.

The 70 Days After Groundhog Day, by Ptelea: There's a time loop that only Jason remembers. It acts as a catalyst for changes within the family. Some arguments, some misunderstandings, some bonding, some healing, and quite a lot of conversations that mostly take place over food. Dick POV, focused on Dick and Jason but with the other Bats around and very present.

The R Stands for –, by Cirth: Damian pretends to focus on lacing up his boots as his father tugs Drake to his side, plants a gruff, casual kiss in his hair. Drake's lips curl into a pleased smile, and Damian yanks the strings so hard his palms burn.

(Note: incredible Damian-centric oneshot, focusing on his character growth from his time with the League through the Dick and Damian!Batman and Robin era)

The Return, by silverwhittlingknife: "I did it. I saved the people he loved. I saved everything he worked so hard to build. No compromises. He won’t say anything, he never does. But I know. I know that Bruce will be proud of me.… Not a bad day." Tim falls. Dick catches him. It is a near, near thing.

Red Robin 11 and 12, from Dick’s POV. Tim comes home.

The Wind Sits in the Shoulder of Your Sail, by BirdChild: At least, back then, Tim had barely been a teenager. He could almost forgive his own volatility. And he’d been smart enough (scared enough?) not to tell Jack that he didn’t need him. What was his excuse now? Bruce was his dad (at least, in the legal sense), but (surprise, surprise) it turned out that Tim wasn’t any better at being a son.

Or: Tim and Bruce still have some things to sort through after the adoption.

Verdant, by Cerusee: Talia puts Jason in the Lazarus pit to restore his mind. Then she takes him home.

Have fun browsing! I also have a few more random fics that aren’t on any of my lists that I’m happy to recommend to people; I just don’t think they quite make the cut for the lists.

[lame-adventures]

Authors Note: So I know this is more than a week late but I got really busy and haven’t had a chance to publish it until now. I considered abandoning this, but I want to make it apart of holiday themed series. Enjoy!

A perfect Halloween

October 31st, 2020 - A Muggle Quarantine AU

“Oh bloody hell.” Lily murmured to herself, taking in the messy sight of her bathroom. “James! Harry! Get your butts in here.” She stuck her head out the bathroom door and hollered down the hallway.

“Yes love?” James Potter said, clambering down the hallway, holding his two year old daughter at his waist.

“What is it Mum?” Harry asked politely, hoping to avoid an overly-dramatic scolding from a nine-month pregnant Lily Potter.

“Someone care to explain?” Lily said, gesturing to the mess scattered throughout their bathroom.

Wet towels sat in piles on the floor, a whole roll of toilet paper was wrapped across the sink and shaving cream had been sprayed into the toilet itself.

“What the-?”James began, stopping himself from cussing in front of his children.

“Mum you’re a nutter. I would never.” Harry began lamely, rolling his eyes.

Lily eyed him suspiciously, her thirteen year old boy had been known to stir up quite a bit of mischief. And being quarantined inside for the past eight months, had spurred a new level of prankster in the boy.

(Of course it didn’t help that her husband egged on their child every chance he got.)

“Harry James.” James began sternly, his daughter shyly nuzzling her head deep into his shoulder. “This is too far.”

“I didn’t do that.” Harry whined, “I’m not a bloody child.”

“Oi. Language!” Lily snapped at him, she crossed her arms delicately on top of her protruding belly, and tapped her foot anxiously.

“Well? Who did this then?” James asked, setting down the two year old Sophie.

“Why doesn’t Hannah ever get this sort of inquisition?” Harry asked, referring to his eleven year old sister.

“Why are you using words like inquisition?” Lily asked while James bellowed down the stairs for Hannah to join them upstairs.

The Potter’s were, of course, a very rambunctious bunch. Constantly bugging each other and playing childish pranks. But Hannah took after her Mother, the same brightly colored ginger hair and vivid green eyes. Childish pranks were not Hannah’s forte, and her eyes went wide at the mess of the bathroom once she finally met the rest of her family upstairs.

“Oh,” She said, somewhat sheepishly, eyes turned downwards. “That was Sophie.”

“Soph?” James asked incredulously, the two year old in question cowered behind her Mother’s legs.

“Yup it was all Sophie. I saw her a little while ago, before you guys got up.” Hannah tattled.

“And why? In Gods name,” Lily began lowly, “did you not stop her?”

“Or get us?”

“Not my responsibility,” Hannah said firmly placing her hands on her hips.

“Han.” Harry said lowly. “You know this isn’t fair to Mum and Dad.”

“Well Dad kept yelling at me for being a tattletale.” She replied, a knowing smirk growing on her face. It was true in fact, that James had scolded her several times over the past few months for consistent need to tell her Mum and Dad whenever Harry did something slightly wrong.

“Welp. I’m going to put Soph in time out.” Lily said, bending down slightly to pick up the two year old who now sat innocently on the floor, sucking contently on her pacifier and purposely ignoring the conflict in front of her.

“You got this?” Lily asked James, before walking down the long hallway to their shared bedroom.

Lily heard yelling and groaning behind her as she shut the bedroom door, eyeing the armchair that sat in the corner of her bedroom. It had a pile of clothes on it, and with her free arm, Lily pushed the clothes on to the floor and set the squirmy toddler down.

She squatted as best as she could, with her large tummy in the way, and met Sophie’s eye level.

“You do not play in the bathroom.” Lily spoke sternly. “You do not make messes.”

The toddler stared at her mother, suppressing a smile as she sucked on her pacifier.

“This is not funny Sophie Lynn Potter.”

Sophie squealed in response, and Lily groaned loudly in frustration, standing up and pulling the pacifier out of Sophie’s mouth. This prompted the girl to begin screaming, and Lily walked towards her dressing table in agitation.

Her baby sat low inside her, kicking a sore spot near her ribs all morning, and Lily was in no mood to put up with screaming a two year old and bickering children.

It was the morning Halloween; normally her kids would be bouncing with excitement at the thought of classroom Halloween parties, and a night of trick or treating. Unfortunately this year, their new normal involved isolation inside their home while the world raged on outside in a mix of political chaos and a health crisis.

Lily still shudders thinking back to March earlier that year, in the same week the world had shut down and Lily had found out she was pregnant with her fourth child.

For the safety of both her and her unborn baby it was decided Lily would not leave their home at all, lest she come into contact with the virus. And Therefore, Lily has not left her home in eight months.

She looked sadly into her mirror, and took in her worn down appearance. At 33, Lily was at the typical age in which one would have babies. She was always attending some sort of baby shower event for her work colleagues, so getting pregnant at this age was completely normal. Of course she and James had done things a bit out of the normal when they started their family. James was at university, working on being scouted by some of the national football teams, while Lily was working towards a degree in journalism. They had only been dating for eight months when Lily fell pregnant for the first time. They were terrified of course, having a child so young, with so many unknowns of their future hanging in front of them. But once Lily gave birth to Harry, and she held him in her arms for the first time, they fell in love with the baby boy.

James earned a spot on Manchester United’s team, as a second string forward, and Lily got a job as a political commentator for BuzzFeed England. They bought a three story townhouse in the bustling downtown area of Manchester and got married on a chilly Halloween night, soon after they learned that Lily was once again pregnant.

Hannah was born, and for eight years the young family of four lived boisterously and happily. Her friends fawned over her children, and her co-workers cooed in delight when she announced once again she was pregnant when she was 30.

Sophie joined the Potter family in May, albeit her addition was unexpected, and Lily’s children were thrown for a loop with the shock of having to share their parents. Sophie was welcomed with so much overwhelming love that the youngest Potter quickly became spoiled with attention.

When the world locked down, and the five Potter’s learned that they would become six, Lily had been shaken with anxiety this time around. Frustrated with her government, growing bored with being home bound and irritated with her kids constantly yelling, Lily felt like crying.

She buried her face in her hands, and felt her baby kick her gently on the inside. She smiled softly, with as shitty as 2020 had been, there would definitely be a good ending for the Potter family.

James walked into the room, and pointedly ignored the screaming two year old. James and Lily quickly learned that the best way to deal with Sophie’s tantrums was to not give her the attention she was acting out for.

He walked around the side of the bed and wrapped his arms around Lily.

“Happy Anniversary love.” He said, kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry our kids had to start the day out like this.”

“Eh,” she shrugged, sinking into his arms. “I’d be bored without the chaos.”

She moved away from him, peeling off the large tee-shirt she had stolen from him years earlier and threw on a bright orange sweater. A big pumpkin displayed proudly across her belly.

“I made Hannah clean up, Harry is supervising.”

“That’ll end well I’m sure.” She laughed, throwing her hair up into a sloppy ponytail.

“You still up for our plans tonight?” He asked, scooping up Sophie in his arms once she finally stopped crying, and sitting down in the arm chair. He picked up the remote and flicked on the Telly to the morning news.

“Yes, It’ll have to get done soon anyways.” She said, patting her tummy, and smiling when she felt a small kick near her hand. The baby was due in two weeks, and they had yet to put the nursery together.

With four children, their house would quickly become crowded and James had taken to several quarantine projects in effort to make more room for his family. He began with converting the upstairs attack into a room for Harry, complete with his own Telly, a new gaming system and a mini fridge. James then began the task of converting Harry’s old bedroom into a nursery for the new baby.

They had decided to wait on the sex of their child, and opted to paint the bedroom yellow. Marlene had come by a week prior and painted a mural of characters from Lily’s favorite book to read to her kids, Winnie the Pooh.

Harry and Hannah would be spending the evening at the Weasley’s and James’ Mother would be stopping by this afternoon to pick up Sophie for an evening of spoiling, giving James and Lily some much needed alone time. They had incredibly exciting plans, of eating take-away and preparing the nursery.

Soon enough, James had declared he was taking Harry and Hannah to the market to do a little bit of shopping, and Lily sat at home with Sophie. She planted the child in front of the Telly in her bedroom, whilst Lily sat on her bed, editing her latest article for Buzzfeed. This was the last article she had to write before starting maternity leave, and she was hellbent in making it one of her best ones yet.

Her back ached, and she sighed as she noticed Sophie beginning to get restless. Quarantine had been rough for everyone, and being locked up with a whiny toddler began to take a toll only Lily’s nerves.

She slammed her laptop shut and sighed out in frustration, taking in the sight of her daughter. The girl mimicked her Mother, with curly red hair and freckles skin. But she took James' playful smile, and his aptitude for mischief. It wasn’t Sophie’s fault that she misbehaved so often of course, she was bored. Two year olds needed to be out exploring the world, and Sophie was locked inside with her anxious parents.

When the shut downs began, Lily was still required to work. Most days, she was shut away, writing articles and having conferences over zoom. James hasn’t worked since March, and he was tasked with entertaining the kids most days.

Thankfully Harry and Hannah could occupy themselves with school, and once summer came around they got to see their friends again.

But poor Sophie rarely got the sole attention from her Mother anymore, and so Lily took this as an opportunity to spend some much needed one on one time with her youngest daughter.

They made sugar cookies, and the rest of her family came home to find Lily and Sophie sitting in a mess of orange icing, surrounded by dozens of pumpkin shaped cookies.

James presented Lily with a bouquet of sunflowers and she squealed in delight when Harry gave her a box of chocolates and a card.

“It’s from all of us.” He said nonchalantly. “Happy Anniversary.”

James grinned, rustling Harry’s hair and pointed towards a framed photo on the wall next to the stove. It was of James, Lily and Harry as a baby. The day they got married.

“It’s a shame you don’t remember it. You were throwing up from all the cake Uncle Sirius let you eat.”

“It was a beautiful day.” Lily said, shoving a cookie towards Harry. “Let’s not dwell on when Harry threw up all over me.”

At three that afternoon, Mia Potter entered their home, with bags of Halloween treats for Harry and Hannah. She came with her digital camera, demanding the kids get dressed in their costumes for an impromptu Halloween photo op. James had struggled to get Sophie into her Peppa Pig costume, and Harry and Hannah had squeezed into their wizard costumes from the previous year.

Lily begrudgingly got through the picture part of the afternoon, and sat patiently in the living room while James served the tea.

“Any signs of arrival?” Mia asked, the elder Mrs Potter was nearing eighty now. She waited nearly fifty years for her only son, and was more than thrilled when her grandchildren had been born.

“Not yet,” Lily said. “Unfortunately. I’m starting to feel like I’ll be pregnant forever. But I’m trying to enjoy it, because this is definitely the last one.”

“You said that after Hannah.” Mia reminded her.

“We mean it this time.” James said, sitting next to Lily and handing her a mug of tea. “We are stopping at four.”

“Yeah we are out of room here.” Harry said assuredly. “And you don’t want to turn into the Weasley’s.”

James laughed at that, he couldn’t even fathom seven children. The thought of having four was already quelling lots of new anxieties.

“Oh well. I’ve already got four perfect grandchildren.” Mia said, standing up and patting Hannah on the head.

“We best be getting off though, I have quite the evening planned for this sweet girl.” She said, picking up Sophie and kissed her cheek.

Lily kissed her goodbye, and made her way to the kitchen while James accompanied his Mother outside.

“Harry go help Mum clean up.” She heard Hannah whine.

“Well why don’t you?”

“You two better not bring this bickering over to the Weasley’s.” Lily interrupted the brewing fight.

“Sorry Mum.” Hannah said sheepishly, taking the kettle of her Mother’s hands. “We’ll behave.” She said pointedly, staring at Harry.

“Yes. I promise.” Harry said, kissing his mother’s cheek. “Enjoy your night with Dad.”

“What time are they expecting you lot?” Lily asked, leading the way to the kitchen.

“Dad said he’ll drive us over there at seven.” Harry said, moving to load the dishwasher.

“Make sure you take some of those cookies over there with you.” Lily said, it broke her heart slightly. That her kids were at the age where they would rather spend Halloween with their friends rather than their parents.

Halloween had always been a bit of a weird holiday for the Potter’s. It began in their first year of University, when James and Lily met at a party that James and his friends were throwing. Remus had practically begged Lily to join him at their party, insisting she would get along greatly with his friends. Lily’s roommate Marlene had excitedly encouraged Lily to “get drinks and get laid.” Lily did get laid that night, after immediately hitting it off with James. They spent hours talking together, laughing and drinking and dancing. They ended up in bed, in a drunken tangle of limbs, and Lily fell in love. (James had been in love the moment he laid eyes on her.)

The second Halloween spent together was presumed to be when Harry was conceived, again at a party that James had been throwing. Sirius had given Lily a brownie with a little “surprise ingredient,” and she had failed to make sure that James was using a condom that night.

They would never forget their fourth Halloween together. It left a number of scars, and an emotional strain on the young couple for years to come. It had begun with a disasterly dreadful dinner with her sister and her oaf of a husband. They had met at a posh restaurant near Lily’s hometown and the night had ended with Lily in tears after Petunia’s verbal attack. It was the same old conversation; that Lily was a disappointment to her Mother, that Lily was a freak, a failure. A slut for having a baby at such a young age.

She was silent as she walked to the car, hand in hand with James while he struggled to carry their crying infant son at his hip. She insisted on driving, that driving was calming, and James didn’t want to upset her further. He strapped his son into his car seat and climbed into the front seat, plugging in his phone and scrolling through his playlist to find Lily’s favorite artist.

He didn’t notice the red light, the rain was coming down too hard and he was focused on trying to calm the screaming baby in the back. A truck had barreled into them, flipping their car and nearly killing the young family.

Harry was left with a terrible scar on his forehead. The baby had a concussion and slept for days after the accident. James too had a concussion, and shattered his arm. Lily had been in a coma for nearly a month.

They nearly died that Halloween, James and Lily shudder at the thought of everything they could have lost. And they are thankful everyday for the family that they have.

The following year they decided to make Halloween into a happy memory. That morning Lily had taken a pregnancy test and a pink plus sign glared back at her. She cried for most of the morning, frustrated with her inability to use contraception. James was quick to ease Lily’s frustrations, reminding her that they wanted more kids in the future anyways, and that Harry was unplanned and ‘look at how good we are at making babies’. They took Harry Trick or Treating for the first time, dressed in a dog costume and laughed at Uncle Sirius’ tricks.

Afterwards they eloped, James had declared that they waited long enough, and they found a twenty four hour chapel. Halloween was the anniversary of when they met, and when they became a family. It was the day their family lived, and the day that their family was growing. It was the perfect day to get married.

Halloween in 2020 would be different of course. Harry and Hannah hadn’t bought costumes that year, and Sophie would miss out on her first chance to go trick or treating. Lily sat at her kitchen table and thought about this sadly, she had a few hours left before Harry and Hannah left and she wanted to make the most of it.

“Would you like to watch a movie?” She asked, smiling at her kids as they finished cleaning up from their afternoon tea.

“Erm.” Harry said, anxious to get upstairs on his Xbox before he left tonight.

“Han? C’mon guys. We never get time like this. We can watch something scary.”

Hannah agreed, and after Lily said she would make cheesy popcorn, Harry agreed too.

James joined them, and excitedly picked out The Conjuring declaring that Hannah was old enough to watch it.

Lily sat contently, as her daughter curled up next to her and they shared a bowl of popcorn. She observed James as he sat cross legged on the floor, leaning up against the couch, throwing popcorn at Harry.

Lily dozed off after a while, and her family dared not to wake her. Once the credits rolled, Lily stirred and found Harry and Hannah at the front door with their overnight bags.

“Behave.” She told Harry sternly, “I don’t want any calls from Mrs.Weasley tonight. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him Mum.”

“Please don’t.” James interjected, “that will just cause a fight. Don’t embarrass yourselves.”

Hannah rolled her eyes, and Lily laughed as she planted one last kiss on her daughter’s forehead.

“Any requests for dinner love?” James asked her before leaving to drive the kids to the Weasley's.

“Something fried.” Lily said, shutting the door behind him.

By the end of the night Lily was ready to sleep for a century. Once James had returned with bags of take-away, she had eaten her weight in fish and chips and spent the rest organizing the nursery. James had mastered putting cribs together by now, and had easily built this new one within an hour. He had put together the dresser, and was now working on the changing table while Lily began to organize the drawers of the dresser.

“You know this is probably going to be the last time we are alone for a long time.” James said, sitting down on the floor and throwing his tools back into the tool box.

“Yeah.” She bit her lip sadly, things were about to get chaotic. They both knew that when they decided to have a fourth baby. “I just wish this was happening at a different time. I mean I won’t even be able to give birth in a hospital. It’s really scary.”

“It’ll be alright.” He said, she moved to sit down next to him. It was awkward of course, she moved slowly, and James reached his arm around her waist to help steady her to the ground. She sat with her legs stretched out infront of her, and her hands resting carelessly on top of her belly.

“Just a few more weeks.” James mused, setting his hand on top of hers. “Are you nervous?”

“Very.” She nodded.

“Me too. But it’ll be fine.” He willed himself to believe it. He had hoped that the pandemic would have been controlled enough by now that Lily would be able to go to the hospital to deliver their baby. But her doctor had advised against it, saying that Lily was healthy enough to deliver on her own and to do so in a hospital would be an unnecessary risk.

“We have a plan for the moment labor starts. Mum, Sirius, and Marlene are ready to spring into action the second we call them.” James spoke simply, the best way to calm down a spiraling Lily was to talk her through it.

He turned his head to kiss her on the temple, and he softly whispered into her hair. “You’ve done this three times already Lil. You’re great at it. Everything will be okay.”

“I guess it will be kinda nice being at home this time. And in my own bed.” She said lowly.

“See? Look on the bright side. And just think love, in a few weeks she’ll be here and things will be better. I promise you.”

Lily looked at him incredulously, “she?”

“Yea. She. It’s a girl, I know it.”

“It’s a boy James. We’ve talked about this.”

“Blah blah. ‘Mothers intuition’ and all that.” He rolled his eyes, “you have been wrong about our other two girls. I don’t trust your intuition.”

“I want Harry to have a brother. It’s not fair he’s going to be outnumbered.”

“You and Hannah were outnumbered for years.” James laughed, reminding her of the years spent with Sirius and Remus as part of her family.

“Exactly! I don’t want Harry to feel like that.”

“Whatever, I’m happy with whatever we get. Even if it means you're wrong.”

She was wrong of course. Her baby came later that night, weeks before her due date, and after hours of screaming at James for putting her in this spot; she gave birth to a tiny, precious girl.

They called her Phoebe, she was small, and wrinkly and very pink. She had a mess of thick black hair and her tiny fingers curled around Lily’s finger while she held her daughter in adoration.

Labor came suddenly, and Lily couldn’t remember her other children hurting this badly. She laid in her bed and cried for her Mother, while James panicked. He called Marlene over, she was a nurse and Lily had insisted that she would only feel comfortable giving birth at home if Marlene was there to act as a midwife.

By midnight Lily was crying into James' chest as she pushed her daughter out into the world.

James held Lily tight, as Lily held her daughter to her chest and began to feed her. He took a quick picture of the newborn, and sent it to Harry and his mother. And whispered to Lily, “you did amazing. Again.”

She looked up at him, smiling wildly. “Shes lovely James, we did this.”

“Well obviously. But you did the hard part.”

“It’s okay.” She sighed, labor had been a bitch. She was horribly sore, and exhausted. She smiled down at the baby in her arms, “it was worth it.”

“Happy anniversary love.” He said.

“Happy Halloween.” She beamed at him.

Halloween was good for the Potter family. They had another happy Halloween story to add to their collection, the day Phoebe was born.

This year may have been shit, but it was ending happily within the chaos of the Potter home.

“Happy Birthday.” James leaned down and kissed his daughter's tiny head.

[statusquoergo]

Hi! I was wondering if I might ask for some advice? A few days ago, this idea for a Marvey fic came to me randomly and it's been running circles in my mind ever since. It's gotten to the point where I even started to rewatch the show after three years. I've got certain scenes in my head too! The problem is that I'm quite terrible at seeing projects through. I don't really have the time lately to put a lot of my effort into this story unfortunately, but I also have a track record of giving up on stories I'm super passionate about halfway through. I was wondering if you had any tips or advice? You're one of my favorite writers and I hoped you might be able to help. Thank you!

Hi! Wow, am I really? Wow. I never think of myself as being one of anyone's favorite anything, that's really sweet of you to say, thank you so much! And of course you're more than welcome to ask, I'll do my best to be helpful!

Oh boy, I've been there... Having scenes already playing out in your head sounds like a good start, though! Better than having a vague premise with no concrete ideas, anyway. But seeing projects through can be tough, for sure, and the inherently fickle nature of fanfiction's feedback loop doesn't make it easier. So! Tips and advice!

A lot of people, especially those with little free time, benefit from a schedule, blocking out time in the day to dedicate to writing without distractions. If that works for you, great! But if it doesn't, that's cool too. It doesn't for me. Forcing myself to sit down and write at any given moment is one thing, but making it an appointment is something else entirely, and it messes really badly with my productivity. I guess the point of this is, don't feel bad if you don't stick to a strict schedule, but also don't let yourself totally off the hook; if you want your story to get written, you'll probably occasionally have to make yourself write it, even if you don't think you want to. Moments of vivid inspiration are amazing, yeah, but they aren't all that common; sometimes you've just gotta sit down and crank out a few paragraphs. A shitty first draft is better than no draft at all, and you can always go back and edit it into something you love!

When I'm not actively writing, I do my best conceptualizing while I'm doing other fairly low-energy things, like going for a walk or watching television or something, and then writing down parts of scenes, or even just thematic ideas I want to include somewhere in the piece, as they come to me. (I have also been known to force myself out of bed as I'm trying to fall asleep to write down snatches of dialogue that have just occurred to me... I recommend keeping a notepad and pen close by, it's much less hassle.) Whenever I can find the time, I'll turn them into a chapter, or part of one, but this method allows me to keep engaged with the story even when I'm not actually drafting it.

Lack of inspiration strikes us all, though, and in that case, it's totally fine to leave a story alone for a little while. The key there being "a little while"; give it a good night's sleep or a day off, but then, even if you don't get right back into writing, at least start thinking about it again until you're ready. Or maybe do get back to writing first thing! Sitting at your computer and making progress, even if it's progress you ultimately delete, at least puts you back in the writing mindset and gets you back into the world you're creating.

This is partially specific to the world of fanfiction, but don't be afraid to vary your chapter length. If you like to get your chapters up to 5000 words before you post, great, that's a fine baseline, but if you've managed to put together a few scenes that only get to 1500 words and still tell a cohesive story, or part of one, it's perfectly okay to post that, too. Getting feedback on new material can be a great motivator, but it can also be really motivating just to have that sense of accomplishment of putting more of your writing out into the world and seeing that word counter go up. Not to mention, updating the Last Updated date can make a fic seem more current, and maybe help get it back to the front of your mind!

I think the main theme here is, do what you can to keep yourself immersed in the story you're working on, even when you're not working on it. And I know this sucks to hear and nobody wants to think about it, but sometimes you do have to force yourself to write. If you haven't worked on your story at all for the past two weeks, ask yourself what's holding you back. Did you lose your passion for the material, or are you just frustrated? Did you even realize it had been that long? What made you want to write the story in the first place? What's the ending you want to get to, and what's keeping you from getting there? Remember that even writing a little bit is better than writing nothing! It's fine to take a break, but don't give up!

These tips aren't universal, of course, no advice works for everybody, but I hope at least one thing I've said can be helpful to you! Best of luck!

[memoriashell]

hey i really like you ( can we go out? )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru, techincally some background Ishimaru / Oowada, Makoto gets a few lines, and Syo’s present for a bit in the begining.

crossposted on ao3

Notes: hello here's your late day five of @tokomaruweek​ week!! valentine's day prompt!!

the format for the texting section might look a little funky on tumblr since there’s no easy way of aligning right side / left side text but hopefully it’s obvious enough who’s texting what.

heads up i'll be skipping day 6 for now probably! i’ll come back to it when i’ve finished the rest of the week, i just might get stuck on it for a hot minute and i’d like to get the rest of the week out of the way first since i'm already behind.

anyways it's probably also noteworthy to mention that this drabble works on the basis you have a basic understanding of the cultural differences in how japan celebrates valentine's day. i was originally going to try and incorporate white day into this drabble instead of just mentioning it but i wasn’t super happy with how this one was turning out anyways and figured it was best to just get this out as it is!!

i also feel like i should clarify bc that i realize the way i characterize toko in everything this week has made it seems like she hates kiyotaka’s guts but honestly i think they’d be real close!! i really like them as two outsider kids who can relate to each other. they are two sides of the same narrative coin and in this essay i will /j anyways please understand she rags on him from a place of ( platonic ) LOVE. and also bc they r both my cc’s i could never be that mean to either of them. well. no meaner than canon is to them.

edit: forgot tws. nothing super huge bc it's mostly fluff, but it does refrence bullying ( although would you consider faked love confessions / etc as bullying? it's just cruel :( anyways. )

Summary:  valentine's day has never been good for ugly girls ( and hopeless romantics ) like her. 

Valentine's Day. Every girl’s least favorite day.

Or, well, at the very least, her least favorite. Uh, one of her least favorite holidays? Then again, it’s not like Touko really has a ‘favorite’ in the first place, so maybe her point is moot— but she’s getting side tracked here.

One would presume that a romantic like her, an author who writes romance for a living, would live for a holiday that's practically centered around love and romance, but they would be wrong. It’s a miserable reminder of a day for her who has practically been scorned by the idea of relationships. It is a bitter reminder of failed loves and societal norms that she’s never been able to meet.

( Ugly. Rude. Awkward. Unsociable. So what if they’re right? Who is she to tell them they’re wrong? )

If it is not for the fact that she is pretty sure Ishimaru will be at her door if she doesn’t show up, she would probably skip class today. Oh, to be a confident gay man on Valentine's Day and not a closeted lesbian who feels the need to meet heteronormative societal norms. It’s unfair because not only is he ( mostly ) unaffected by this kind of holiday, he’s probably one of the people who care the least about the delicate social intricacies ( and romanticism ) of a holiday like this one. If nothing else, so she can’t say she envies the position this puts Oowada in, because Ishimaru would probably just see this as a learning moment. Anyways before she sounds too envious of her peers for getting their shit together, she just wants it to be unknown that she thinks it’s really unfair that he would get to judge her reasons for wanting to skip school.

( Actually, if she fessed up the deep-seated issues related to why she’d rather not have to be present on a day like today, the last thing he’d do it judge but that’s not really something she wants to acknowledge right now )

Moving on.

Despite the fact that, internally, she is making a fuss about a holiday, she suspects that most of her class probably doesn’t really care about these things. That doesn't mean she feels any less pressured to conform. It’s not like any of them would want chocolates from someone like her anyways, so it’s not like she really needs to be worried...

It’s not the end of the world, stop being such a debbie downer! Syo butts in, ever so helpful. By which she means is very, very unwanted and unhelpful. All the same, they ( unfortunately ) have a point and if she has to put up with this shitty day then at the very least she’d like to have breakfast before someone sees fit to break down her door.

You technically don’t have to do anything. Syo sounds almost too enthusiastic to help with the ‘issue’ at hand.

Using you to escape my problems isn’t always a viable strategy. Touko rebukes. Nor is it a choice, usually.

Only because you try and make yourself as miserable as possible by making things worse for you.

She has nothing to say to that, and instead focuses on braiding her hair to be passably presentable.

“Fukawa-san?” Oh, what she wouldn’t give to not have to hear her name today. Granted, Touko doesn’t think hearing her name being called on any given day is usually a good sign, but it still feels too early in the day to willingly put up with anything and shoots a glare at Naegi, standing in front of her desk. It probably doesn’t help that he sounds nervous for some godforsaken reason, but that’s technically not out of the ordinary, and she’s pretty sure Syo has something to do with that. “Sorry, uh...I was going to try and catch you at your locker this morning, but I guess I must’ve missed you, huh?”

She gives him the most deadpan, withering stare she can muster at the moment as if to say obviously. She’d even turned up to class early because she figured that dealing with whoever else would be in class would be more manageable than having to deal with anything going on in the halls ( because Hope’s Peak is not a normal school and god knows if something can go wrong, it will, and she is not having any of it today ). She assumed that if she looked busy, anyone with any common sense would leave her alone, but Makoto is not the brightest, clearly.

It still kind of throws her for a loop, however, that he chooses to approach her today, of all days. If she were anyone else, or if this exchange happened in any other context, she is sure that him acting like this on Valentine's Day would seem like it was setting up for a love confession. If it weren’t for the fact that Naegi already had a partner so, that’s probably not an issue— not that that would be a theoretical issue, because hey it’s not like Naegi was likely to be the kind of person cruel enough to fake a love confession. That’s definitely not something that’s happened to Touko before and gotten her hopes up only to be horribly crushed and definitely not the reason she’s been particularly defensive today. Nope.

( Yeah, okay, she’s not fooling anyone, but thankfully the only one aware of this is herself. And Syo, but both of these things are clear givens )

It occurs to her that Naegi hasn’t said anything, waiting for her to say something to him, and she grits her teeth irritably. “Wh-What? Spit it out already.”

“Err...are you...” He starts to say something and then seems to think better of it, sheepishly ducking his head for a moment before holding a bag out to her. “Sorry. Komaru asked me to bring these to you. Kirigiri-san had to convince her to not try and sneak into the main building just to bring these to you herself.”

It takes a long minute for her to process what he says before snatching the bag from his grip and holding it close to herself. Friendship chocolates...? That’s probably what’s in the bag. Which is a pretty nice thought in itself— Touko doesn’t usually get gifts like this. It almost makes her not want to touch the bag and ruin the illusion, refrain from eat whatever’s in the bag: but honestly if she doesn’t, Syo will probably make sure to savor it, so she won’t even pretend like that’s an option.

( There’s a part of her that feels a little guilty too, that she hadn’t even considered that Komaru might do something like this and have something prepared for her in return, but if she’d made something and not gotten anything then she’d look like a fool, and it’s not like she would’ve been able to get it to her easily anyways, so she really shouldn’t feel guilty about accepting it, but— )

“I’m glad you like it. She was kind of worried about how you’d take it.” Naegi speaking breaks through her current train of thought and is he still standing here? Had she been stupidly smiling to herself? How embarrassing!

“It’s n-n-not like that...and what kind of person do, do you take me for, anyways...!” Well, if she had been showing any sort of positive emotion on her face, she isn’t anymore. Touko takes this as an opportunity to shove the bag into her book bag, before anyone can notice. For some reason, he looks vaguely disappointed. “I was...ugh, I was just th-thinking that it was surprising she’d trust you with it given the, the track record with how your l-luck turns out!”

Makoto opens his mouth to refute this but thank god someone calls his name from the doorway, and she takes that opportunity goes back to her books before he can try and say anything further to her.

touko-chan!!!!

makoto said he gave you my gift successfully so i know u got it

i think

i didn’t expect u to thank me or anything but it’d be nice

pls tell me u got it right

did u at least read the note i left in there for u

Does Komaru not have homework, or what? She could at least give her a few minutes to try and get a word in. It’s not her fault math is a bitch and Touko is too stubborn to maybe talk to one of her peers into explaining the subject to her.

                                                     Yes, by some miracle I did manage to get it.

                                                                                                             Thanks.

                                                                                        You’re a good friend.

                                                                                                               Sorry.

                                                                                         Is that all? I’m busy.

That is not all, apparently, because Komaru forgoes texting to call her directly. If it were anyone else, she’d ignore it; but since it’s her she figures she can probably talk and do math at the same time.

“So you didn’t check the bag at all?” Komaru speaks before she can even consider greeting her, and Touko rolls her eyes despite the fact that she cannot see it.

“Hello to y-you too. Uh…honestly, I shoved it in my bag earlier and...and haven’t checked on it since. I assumed it was j-j-just candy, and it’s probably safer hid from Syo there.”

“Ugh! I told Makoto to mention to you that I put something else in there. And there’s a box for Syo in there too!” She can practically hear her pouting through the phone line. “Well, uh— I guess that’s fine since you’re busy...? Just check it when you get the chance, okay? Please? I promise it’ll make sense.”

“I got it, I got it. I’ll take a break once I finish this up and check it out. Good enough for you?”

“Mhm! Thank you Touko-chan! I’ll let you go now, so you can focus. Bye!” If Touko wasn’t mistaken ( but probably is ), she sounded almost nervous, the way her words come out in one rushed breath.

Admittedly, now she’s too intrigued by whatever had Komaru pressed enough to make sure she was aware of it, and she doesn’t think she’ll be able to focus now, so...opening the bag it is. She grumbles and groans to herself for a moment, stretching as she gets up from her desk to grab her bag.

She hadn’t really noticed at the time, but now that she thinks about it, there’s some definite weight to this thing, more than she’d expect from some candies ( even now knowing that apparently Komaru had accounted for Syo as well ). Not much though, and she probably would’ve just passed it off for the box the sweet is stored in if she were to really think about it, but now she figures that’s probably not the case. Touko peeks inside the bag a little hesitantly— curiosity wins out over anxiety in the end, and spots what appears to be a small booklet along with a box of chocolates.

Oh god.

She braces herself because, this is probably some kind of manga if she knows Komaru and ( unfortunately ) not a mini-novella but otherwise has no idea what to expect. And once she opens it, she has to thank whatever higher being made sure Makoto didn’t say a thing to her about it because there’s absolutely no way she would have been able to keep a straight face if she’d looked at this in class.

One, she forgot how generally talented Komaru was at this type of stuff. Obviously, still room for improvement, but not nearly as bad as Touko would have thought. Two, this is not really a manga, but a fucking thinly veiled love confession, complete with the most casual ‘Hey I really like you, can we go out?’ Third, she’s extremely glad Komaru did not insist on being on the phone while she checked this out because she does not think she can coherently answer that right now.

In fact, it takes Touko a good half hour to calm herself down enough before she can even consider texting her a response. There’s no way she’s embarrassing herself any further by calling her about it, even if that might have been a more meaningful exchange, but like Komaru just confessed to her through manga so clearly they’re already past that point.

                                                                                                     You’re a dork.

                                           I hate that you’re using your talents for this though.

:)

thats not a no?

                                                                                                          Not a yes.

                         Very tempted to make it a no for making me suffer through this.

touko-chan;;;;;

be gentle to my poor heart if ur gonna reject me :(

                                                                                              Ugh. I was kidding.

                                                                                                      Yes you idiot.

                                                    Just don’t use manga for this stuff next time?

ok!!!!! :)

actually i promise nothing

lol sorry ♡

                                                                                                  You’re the worst.

hehehehehe >:)

i love you too!!

are you busy this week??

let’s meet up!!!

                                             Some of us care about our grades. As should you.

                                                            But Thursday and Friday are lighter days.

                                                                      Yeah yeah. I like you or something.

thank uuuuu ♡♡♡

She chews on her lip as she rereads the message and mulls over it as she tries to ignore the flip-flop of her stomach. It’ll be fine. She’ll just aim to have something planned out for White Day in return.

[heli0s-writes]

The Thief

Summary: Where do all of Bucky’s shirts keep disappearing to?  Pairing: Reader x Bucky A/N: 2.1k word count. Silliness, fluff. Posters from the fic LOL

Bag of Tricks One-Shots Masterlist

Bucky is missing another shirt on Saturday morning. He rifles through his closet, slapping the hangers to the left and down the pole where they clack against each other fearfully. Last week, this happened too. His favorite red Henley with the threadbare hem and black buttons— all day he had searched for it until—

Oh.

With a slightly exasperated groan and a backwards tilt of his head, he closes the closet door. Quietly, he slips out of his room and down the silent hallway until the chatter of voices from the kitchen meets his ears.

Wilson stands at the stove top, flipping pancakes the size of plates— heavy, thick, wheat ones, overloaded with blueberries. Steve is to his side, pouring milk and stealing fruit when Sam isn’t looking. Natasha is perched on the counter, sipping black coffee.

And then, his eyes skip over to the dining table where a pair of delicate feet are propped up on the glass, toes tapping off-beat to a tuneless song.

You.

No matter how many times Tony and Steve tell you to stop putting your feet on the table, you still do— almost out of spite and with glee. You match Steve in stubbornness and Sam in annoying-ness. You’re just a step behind Natasha when it comes to acting, too. The combination could be lethal if you weren’t such a lawless brat, squandering your talents on petty revenge.

You’re leaned back in the chair, comic book in hand with a silly lopsided smile and your hair tied in the messiest of buns. Strands loop out from the elastic, flop against your ear pathetically. There is a smudge of toothpaste on the corner of your mouth, and when you lick your dry lips, you lick it away too.

“Hey, when are those pannies ready?” You ask over the line of the glossed book.

“Don’t call them panties! And don’t rush perfection!” Sam hollers back.

“Okay…” You try again, “When are those pancakies ready?”

“Pan-cakes.” Steve sends over his shoulder, “Pancakes. One word, two syllables, no ‘y’ at the end.”

“Uh. It’s I and E, sir.” And when Steve sighs in displeasure, you tug the collar of the shirt over the bridge of your nose and hide your snickering inside. You pop a finger in your mouth and flip the page, leaving a wet round print on the edge. Tony is going to kill you when he finds out that you are desecrating his rare collection with spit.

With a snort and shake of his head, Bucky runs his hand through his bangs and walks up next to the table. “Huh.” He mumbles, finger rubbing the sleeve spilling from your shoulder, threatening to flood all the way down to your elbow. The specked brown fabric, slightly pilled is familiar beneath the pads of his thumb.

The very one he was searching for this morning. That timeworn thing, half falling apart because it’s been so many times washed.

“This looks familiar.”

“This?” You ask, eyes wide, “Is it— is it yours? Aw jeez, Barnes. I found it in the laundry room. It just looked so comfy.” One foot scratches the other and the shirt rides up your legs and folds against your stomach. Your rub the fabric against your collarbone, shifting it side to side, and the middle falls in-between your breasts, outlining the shape of you.

He has to bite down on his cheek to stop his next expression, but hums a noise of surprise anyway, “Wonder how it got in there.”

You shrug and blush, give him a fake demure smile before scooting your chair back and heading over to grab food. He follows lazily behind, watches the hem swing at the top of your thighs, a tiny inch of your athletic shorts peeks out underneath. You’re ridiculous, he thinks.

“Yummy yummy yummy, get into into my tummy.” You pull three pancakes onto your plate and Steve glares at the way you use your fingers even though there is a fork in your other hand.

“Your germs are gonna go into my tummy.”

Shocked, you press three bent fingertips to your sternum, “Captain, sir! It’s called a stomach! Two syllables. No Y!”

Steve follows your hand with a wry smile, then the slightest tilt of his head happens as he narrows his eyes on your chest.

“Captain Rogers, are you checking out my tit-tats?”

With a stutter, Steve flushes and turns around, busies himself with getting his own pancakes. Everyone else follows suit and soon enough the dining table is seated with all five, pouring syrup and cutting fluffy stacks into smaller pieces.

To his right, Bucky watches you roll up a pancake like a log and dunk it into a lake of syrup you’ve squirted on your plate. With your mouth full, you take your fork and steal a triangle from him. Syrup dribbles onto your— his shirt.

“We literally have the same food.” he complains.

“But… yours is better; Wilson put more love into yours. I think he put fingernails in mine.”

Across the table, Natasha smirks, “Arsenic, maybe.”

“Actually,” Sam corrects, “It’s rat poison.”

Behind another log dripping with syrup and melted butter, you grin and waggle your eyebrows at Sam, tongue slipping out beneath the roll to lap the dripping syrup away. Bucky kicks you under the table, a quiet reminder to stop being so obnoxious.

Instead of heeding his advice, you shove the rest of the sticky tube into your mouth and choke a little.

“Jesus Christ.” He mutters, turning away from where you are pounding on the table and coughing. “You dead?”

“Rest in damn pieces.” Sam adds.

Steve continues to stare suspiciously as you press your cheek to the glass surface and catch your breath.

You’re going to drive him crazy, he thinks.

He hides the smile behind a cut of pancake and a swig of coffee. A few more bites and he loads his plate into the dishwasher, returning to his room to take a shower, even thanking Sam for breakfast without an insult. Wilson looks after him curiously but takes the compliment where he can get it.

On his way back to his room, Bucky stops by the familiar door decorated with a single poster you printed off in the lab—a kitschy and poorly edited photograph of Sam with a rainbow-colored clown wig over his head, not even fully covering his hair. Underneath his torso are the words Sam Wilson Local Dumbass.

You had made it after a mission where Sam’s wing clipped your shoulder and your gun went off into a gas tank, blowing out half the floor. It’s been almost half a year and you still haven’t taken the poster down—vowing not to change it until the year passes. Petty revenge, Bucky scoffs to himself.

Bucky pushes past the door and yanks open your closet, staring at the piles of shirts and shorts, mountains of pants and dresses you’ve never worn. On top of each heap are a million pairs of panties, like you just grab your laundry basket and throw it in. You probably do. The doors are always shut probably because you have the object permanence of an infant and if it’s out of sight, it’s out of mind, too.

He laughs when he sees the assorted hangers on the pole, varying sizes and some bent completely out of shape. There are precisely four, neatly aligned next to each other, out of place with the rest of the disordered space.

His hand reaches up to tug on the familiar red Henley he found last week over your torso as you sat watching a movie with Natasha. You had tied an elastic band to the bottom of it, the tiniest sliver of your hip showing beneath.

Next to the red is a gray long-sleeve. Next to that is a cream-colored shirt he hardly wears but you mentioned one night that you liked seeing him in lighter colors. Ironic that you’d steal it from him, then.

At the end of the row, folded neatly over the bar of a plastic green hanger, is a single pair of his black boxers and he nearly hisses when he yanks it off in mortification.

“What?” Your voice calls from the doorway, “They’re clean.”

“Jesus! Why do you have these?”

A wide grin stretches over your mouth, “I wear ‘em to sleep sometimes. Mostly when you’re not here.”

“Darlin’, you got your own clothes.” Bucky smiles, wishing he could genuinely find your antics annoying and not so damn cute. Walking forward, his fingers reach under your shirt where the smooth plane of your stomach starts, other hand moving over your head to push the door close. “It’s hard to keep a secret when you’re so obvious about it.”

You whine, bratty again, and he shuts up the noise with a press of his mouth over yours, “It was only fun for like, two months.” You mutter into his mouth, “But really, Buck. Everyone here is so oblivious that we could probably fuck on the conference table and they wouldn’t notice.”

A strangled breath falls out of his mouth, “We- we haven’t—f—” He can’t even bring himself to say it, because unfortunately, he is so stupidly shy when it comes to you. “D-don’t say f...” His face burns red and he attempts to look at anything else but your devious smile as you tap a finger over the band of his sweatpants.

“Fuck?” You laugh, “Fucky-fuck-fuck, Bucky-Buck-Buck.”

Then, quick as a whip, you leap up and lock your ankles around his waist, knees splayed out to his sides. Automatically, his hands catch underneath your bottom. Three months of secretly dating and all he’s done is kiss you senseless in utility closets. And now you’re saying… Jesus.

You’re going to kill him, he thinks.

Leaning back, you almost pitch out of his hold but then you stop yourself and slowly shrug the shirt—his shirt from your torso. “You wanna, right? Three months, Bucko. You’re playing a slow burn game that I am not good at.” You grin and drop the shirt onto the floor, the sight of your bare skin turning his entire body hot. “Bucky…!” You whine loudly, bouncing in his arms, “Come on!”

He groans at the way you shift against his groin and thinks fuck it. If you kill him, it’ll be a good thing. Rest in damn good pieces. Bucky sighs and tilts forward, pressing his nose to your neck, inhaling the scent of maple syrup. “Baby, you’re so—”

The door slams open and you yelp, falling out of Bucky’s hands and onto the floor on your back. “What the fuck!”

Steve is pointing, wide triumphant grin across his face, “I knew it! I knew that shirt looked familiar!” Bucky pitches forward, covers your bare chest with his body and nearly crushes you underneath.

“You fucking perv, Steve! Stop trying to look at my tit-tats!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Steve cries, turning around. Bucky kicks the door shut with his foot as you continue to curse out Steve on the other side of the door. With an amused sigh at the way your nose scrunches up as you hurl insults, he presses his nose to your collarbone again, licks away the stain of syrup you’d dropped earlier on yourself.

--

He wakes up in your empty bed around noon, groggy and a little confused as to why you’re suddenly gone. Disappointment and fear sparks in his chest at the thought of his lonely state. Was it bad? Maybe this is how you’re breaking up with him. Fuck—was it that bad?

Bucky slowly gets up, slips on his sweatpants from the earlier morning and scoops his clothes into his arms, mind set on clearing out his belongings from your room if the relationship is truly over, not even bothering to put a shirt on.

The hallway isn’t empty this time—down the walkway you are crouched with something in your hand in front of Natasha’s room, but you pay him no mind. Bucky tucks his clothing under his arm, turning around to close your door before his eyes catch sight of what’s been newly taped to it.

An enormous poster decorates the plain paint. Steve’s face is blown up and touches each corner. Over his eyes you’ve photoshopped two enormous breasts and under his chin are the words: Steve Rogers, Local Pervert.

Bucky sputters before a loud howling laughter tears itself from his throat as he pitches over to hold himself up on the door frame. It’s obscene—the petty revenge, it’s your worst one yet. He’s really going to fall in love with you, he thinks.

Down the hallway, you look over and grin at him, taping yet another poster to someone else’s door. Over your torso, again, as always, is his shirt.

[goldenncherrybombb]

Hey dude, I was wondering, whenever you have time, and whenever you feel like it, could you maybe write a fluffy platonic bestfriend!harry with a reader who's like 17-18 and an actress who's in a movie and he writes a song for the movie so that's how they know each other, and they're doing the press tour of the movie together and an interviewer is being rude and Harry defends her?

Oh my gosh, I love this idea SO MUCH! I’m literally a sucker for best friend Harry, it’s my favorite thing to write.

Also sorry for taking a bit to reply, I’m still trying to figure out how to use tumblr, lol. And I changed her age to ab freshly 20 :p

any who, hope you like it!

-m

“And cut!” The director yells, and the bell goes off. Everyone is on the go as soon as he gives the cue. Y/n’s makeup team coming over to fix her hair and makeup.

“Do you guys think I’m doing good?” She questions, a little nervous about how well she is performing. She is a new actress after all, this is her first big Hollywood movie! After many failed auditions, and small parts on Netflix series she finally got herself a big role.

“You are doing amazing girl. No need to be nervous.” Her hair stylist, Anna, reassures her. Her makeup artist, jay, nodding his head in agreement.

“They love you, y/n. You were cast for a reason, girly. Now show em what you got.”

“Thank you guys.” She smiles at them and her cheeks redden at her friends compliments. The bell goes off and they all get ready to film the next scene.

The rest of the day goes well and on her way out she bumps into someone, too busy looking down at her scripts just to make sure she remembers everything. Her scripts and keys fall out of her arms and land on the ground, next to whoever she bumped into journal.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry, that was totally my fault.” She quickly falls to bend her knees and pick up her things. The stranger bends next to her.

“‘S ok, I wasn’t paying attention either.” His voice sounds familiar. So fucking familiar. But she can’t put a finger on it. She looks up when she gathers her things. Her eyes meeting the strangers for the first time. “Oh I know you. Your the lead character, y/n l/n.” She smiles at, finding it strange that he recognizes her. Harry Styles. Harry styles recognizes her. And she decides that’s the coolest thing ever. “‘M actually writin’ a song for your movie.” They both stand to their full height and he hands her her keys.

“I heard about that! That must be super cool. I’ve always been super interested in music. Just wish I didn’t sound like a dying cat.” They both laugh lightly at that, and he shakes his head at her.

“Doubt that.”

“I wish your doubts were correct. But unfortunately they aren’t.” He just chuckles before he suddenly remembers something.

“I forgot to introduce myself. ‘M Harry.” He holds his hand out, and she takes it in hers and shakes his hand.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Harry. I’ve actually heard some of your stuff before. ‘M quite a fan of Fine Line.” He shyly smiles and their hands go back to their side.

“I don’t mean this in a weird way, but would you want to go grab some coffee?” She smiles and nods her head.

“Would love too.” He nods and gives her a smile before they turn to walk out. As they walk to his car, she assumes, she remembers something her coworkers briefly mentioned. “Aren’t you gonna have a small part in the movie?” She questions, looking over at him.

“Yeah actually, ‘m quite excited.”

“It’s gonna be fun. I saw Dunkirk so I know you will kill whatever scene you have. Aren’t you in a few with me and Andrea?” She questions.

“Five scenes total.” He informs her. “Then I have a few more with Timothee and Jeniffer.”

“That’ll be fun. We party a lot in those scenes.” She shimmies her shoulders when she says party to add some effect, and it does what she intends to and makes him laugh.

They reach Harry’s car and he takes them to a small cafe. They chat over tea and coffee, y/n also having a double chocolate chip muffin because she couldn’t resist. They talk about growing up, all things music, y/n’s career, Harry career. They both tell stories of the craziest moments they have so far in their journey of success. Both have a good time.

They get to know each other and at the end of the night they exchange numbers. He takes her back to set and drops her off by her car. He tells her goodnight and she does the same, smiling when she sat down in her car.

She hope she just made a new friend. They had so many things in common. From the way they dress, the music they like, their favorite food, etc. She thinks it’s safe to say the connected well at the small cafe and she hopes this is the start of them becoming close friends.

And they do end up becoming close friends over the six months they work together. Harry ended up coming to set more often than not, bringing lunch to y/n or eating the food they serve. They go back to her trailer and eat their food, catching up with each other, and sometimes having a food fight. Harry updates her on the songs he is writing, or the Gucci ads he has been modeling for. She tells him about the scene they filmed, or some small roles she has been offered. They also catch up, asking eachother about how their families are doing, making plans for later that night or if one of them had an event they wanted the other to accompany them too.

They both know each other’s families well. They spend the night at each other houses often. Harry takes her to the studios on her days off, showing her the process of recording. She instantly connects with Jeff as well since they both have a similar since if humor that includes teasing Harry on the regular.

But now the filming was done, and so was the editing. They were two weeks away from the release! Y/n was excited but also extremely nervous. But now they were all doing a press tour. And lucky for y/n, Harry got to tag along because of his small role and because he wrote most of the sound track for the movie.

They were about to go on another interview, this one just her and Harry. Their costars doing their own interviews scattered around the building. She was happy her and harry were partnered to do all the interviews today, it meant more time to goof off with him when they aren’t supposed to.

“Well first off I just want to say thank you guys for sitting down with me today.” The interviewers starts, his name y/n found out, is Ben.

“Thank you for having us.” They both say simultaneously.

“So let’s talk about the movie. I know y/n, you are a main character. Can you tell me what it’s like? Being new to the scene and working around men like Harry or Timothee? It’s got to be hard to contain yourself around the pair.” Y/n doesn’t know whether to scoff or smile through it and act like that wasn’t extremely sexist. But when she sees Harry visibly tense and his face harden she knows to just let it slide. She doesn’t want to start something that her manager will want to kill her for. So she bites her tounge.

“I don’t find it intimidating at all. Both of them are very talented, but I don’t find it intimidating. Especially not when they are you friends.” She puts an emphasis on friend.

“Harry, this is your second roll in a movie, and you wrote majority of the soundtrack, how was that? Do you think you will do more movies after this?” Y/n wants to roll her eyes. Of course he gets a normal question but she gets one asking if she could keep her legs closed around her best friend and costar.

“I enjoyed it. It got hectic and stressful at times. But I really enjoyed it and I enjoy acting and obviously writing and singing so I was glad I could do both.” The interviewer nods and this is how the next few questions go. Y/n getting questions like “which costar would you rather date?” “Did you have a crush on anyone while filming?” Really inappropriate and unprofessional questions. But Harry got questions about the writing process, what his favorite scene to film was, and so on. But it was obvious both of them were fed up with the interviewer asking her the types of questions he was. So after the third question Harry chimed in before y/n could come up with an answer that would answer it but not really answer it.

“‘M sorry, but are you gonna actually ask her about the movie? Or how her acting career has been going? Or just anything other than if she found someone hot or who she would mess around with? It’s quite unprofessional and it’s clearly making her uncomfortable.” The interviewer stills, his cheeks flushing. Even the camera crew stills and in the background I can hear jay clapping and saying “yes Harry” faintly. A small smile forms on her face and she looks over at her best friend, noticing how his gaze is strong as he looks at the interviewer with a penetrating gaze. Harry sounded very professional and calm when he told the interviewer off, but his eyes give away exactly how he feels.

“Right, my apologies y/n. But I think that’s actually a wrap.” He looks over at the director and nods.

He doesn’t even shake their hands before he leaves. He just scurries away with bright red cheeks as everyone’s eyes follow him.

“Thank you for that, H.” She smiles up at him before her arms go around his neck and his go around her waist.

“No need t’thank me. No lady should be asked those questions. It’s no ones business who yeh fancy, or whatever the fuck else he was trying to dig out of yeh. ‘S not the ass hats bloody business.” She chuckles and shakes her head, patting his back lightly.

“It’s ok, Harry. You already told him off, no need to get upset over it again.” She pulls back when she’s done talking and Harry huffs.

“Guess yer right.” She smiles at him and pats his head before they walk off set. As they leave the building she loops her arm around his waist and he does the same around her. Her head rests on his shoulder and his lays on hers as they leisurely walk outside.

“Wanna go get some ice cream?” She questions, already knowing his answer but wanting to see his reaction. His head pops up and he looks at her with wide eyes.

“Course I want t’get ice cream! Only mad men turn down ice cream.” She laughs and shakes her head before he stops in his tracks.

“Race you to the car, loser pays.” She squints her eyes at him and holds her hand out.

“Deal.” He goes to shake her hand but she pulls away and starts running towards Harry’s car.

“That’s not fair!” He chuckles, running a little bit behind her.

And in the end, Harry ends up paying for the ice cream with a pout on his face.