#yes my director calls me flannel

[allow-me-to-ruin-that-for-you-2]

at theatre practice and my director just yelled at me

“Flannel! Would you please stand in a straight line for god’s sake??”

and my friend went “She’s gay, so no.”

[fuctacles]

<<5 | 6 | 7>>

The relief Eddie feels when Steve agrees to stay is almost like a drug itself. He still rolls a joint for each of them, of course. 

The movie is just as bad as Gareth promised, and Eddie finds himself looking at Steve almost as much as he does at the screen. With just a few puffs in, he's loose-limbed and relaxed, chuckling at the more ridiculous of the director's choices. It's a little terrifying that they know how blood looks from their own experience, but they try not to think about it right now. 

The movie is slowly coming to an end, when Eddie notices Steve's eyes drooping. He doesn't feel as tired himself, the adrenaline of their encounter fighting with his weed tolerance, but he imagines it took a lot of stress from Steve to come here. He's glad he could provide his friend with a safe space and comfort to finally relax. He plucks the almost finished joint out of his hand and Steve only blinks at him sleepily. 

"It's okay man, you can sleep here," Eddie reassures him while snuffing the joint out. "I can play you the end tomorrow."

Steve makes a noise that sounds like agreement and wraps the borrowed flannel shirt (double borrowed, since eons ago it used to be Wayne's) tighter around himself. 

Eddie watches him settle against the back of the couch and wonders what he can do to make this man feel loved and wanted. How he can overwrite whatever cruel thoughts the world has taught him. For now, all he can do is reach for the blanket on the back of the couch and hand it to Steve, who gratefully pulls it over himself. 

====

The memories of going to sleep are hazy, but slowly Eddie comes to while scratching the dog sleeping next to him. He hums in contentment, happy to wake up close to a warm body, even if it's just a pet. He nuzzles against its nape while scratching along its spine, his senses slowly clearing up. 

"I'm gonna go make breakfast," he says eventually. "I better see human Steve in the kitchen before I'm done."

Despite how cozy the bed is, he steps over the dog, whose tail pats loudly against the mattress. Eddie eyes him, unamused. 

"I'm serious. Only humans are getting scrambled eggs on my watch."

Twenty minutes later, he's happy to see Steve sitting at his kitchen table, dressed in the same sweatpants from last night. His chest is bare, but he'll let it slide this time. He picks up a mug from the cupboard. 

"How do you take your coffee, buddy?"

Both of them freeze. 

Eddie lets out an awkward cough, pouring coffee into the mug. 

"Sorry about that. Force of habit I guess. Uh, milk?"

"Yes, please." Steve nods so Eddie leaves enough space in the mug to pour in some milk. "No sugar."

Eddie nods, and he can feel Steve's stare on his back. 

"I don't mind," he says, and Eddie whips around to stare at him. "You calling me that. It's nice."

Eddie hums, adding milk to the coffee.

"Yeah?" He cocks his head, handing him the mug. "Here you go, buddy. Enjoy," he says and reaches out to scratch the back of Steve's head. 

He doesn't back down, even when he realizes what he's doing, and he can see that Steve reacts just as instinctually, leaning his head into the touch. But then he jolts away.

"Fuck, sorry."

Eddie frowns. 

"Don't be sorry. You're my friend, just like the dog. I can scratch you a bit."

Steve doesn't look convinced. He sips on his coffee to focus his attention elsewhere. 

"It's good, thank you," he says, licking his lips. "Shouldn't you be keeping an eye on the pan?"

"This conversation isn't over, Harrington!" Eddie declares, skipping back to the stove. Thankfully, he has a habit of making his eggs on a low fire so they turn out as creamy as possible. Scrambled eggs were the only thing in his life he was able to find patience for. 

"Any plans for today?" he asks later as he sets the plates for Steve and himself. He pours them both more coffee, remembering to add milk to Steve's. He smiles at him thankfully. 

"Not really," he shrugs. It looks like he's trying to find the right words without incriminating himself too much, so Eddie patiently waits for his next words. "All I've been doing lately is walking around the dog park, so..." he trails off.

He's implying that it's all been dog-Steve lately, human-Steve making no plans to hang out with his friends or go on dates. Eddie feels like it's his mission to change that. For whatever reason. 

"We could start preparing for the end-of-summer party," he offers. "Make a grocery list and shit and go shopping."

"It's almost a month from now," Steve points out.

"Good, plenty of time for planning."

Steve just stares at him over the rim of his mug. 

"Robin was going to help me," he says in the last-ditch attempt at being difficult. 

Eddie raises his palms.

"And I'm not stepping on her toes, but you gotta spread your friend circle a bit, man. The more the merrier."

Steve sips on his coffee, thinking about Eddie's offer. Eventually, he nods. 

"Okay. Do you have something to write on?"

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86

[seancekitsch]

Hi, can you do a "one shot" of how Richie asks a reader if she wants to be part of his plan :)

this request is actually going to get a sequel bc there’s another request that would be a perfect sequel to this one :) and here it is

“I can’t wait to graduate,” you said, years ago, “When I get a job the first thing I’m going to do is claw my way up to the top so I can fix the fucking franchise.”

That was four years ago, but Richie never forgot. He kept in touch the whole time, cheering you on over facetime as you struggled as a PA on sets and lived in an apartment in Studio City with four other girls who frequently forgot to lock the doors. Since then you’ve moved a bit closer, given up your dreams and hid your film degree under your bed. You do the next best thing, running a horror podcast out of your basement when you’re not working as a social media manager for a real estate group. You get to dissect all things horror and talk about how you would rewrite the films, you’re a fan favorite on the Stab Reddit for obvious reasons.

You are, in Richie’s eyes, perfect.

So when you call him to do an episode on your podcast, he’s already packing a bag before he can hang up the phone, a myriad of plans on his mind.

Unsurprisingly, you wanted him to do a recording with you talking about your shared love/hate of the Stab series, how you’d change things, your perfect Stab. He stops you before you can even write a script.

“I have a better idea,” he says.

You look up at him over your laptop, the screen illuminating the annoyed look on your face.

“Better than the best episode I’ll ever write?” you deadpan, and then go back to typing. You gently turn up the music playing from your sound bar so maybe he’ll get the hint you want to focus on constructing the interview questions. Richie won’t have that; He actually grabs the laptop from where you’re bundled in blankets on the couch and sets it down away from you. You sigh and roll your eyes, but look up at Richie to hear out what your old friend has to say.

“Let’s make the movie.”

You look at him incredulously.

“The movie, or THE movie?”you ask him. You’d made many a Stab movie with him in college, usually with you creating all of the special effects and being the final girl. Richie’s vision was never complete without your touch, the little quirks you brought to the production.

“I think you know which one,” he confirms, the east smile on his face not at all matching the intensity in his eyes.

You know exactly which one he’s talking about, the one you thought was a joke. There was a night you’d split a handle of tito’s and joked for hours while the Stab series played itself through on your shitty little tv; both of you talking about how YOU would be the perfect Ghostface duo and give the franchise something real to latch onto after… to your horror and dismay … Ghostface in space. You discussed exactly how you’d kill someone.

“Are you serious?” you ask, mood instantly changing. You jump up from your spot on the couch, hands outstretched and shaking like you want to grab Richie’s shoulders, but your hands stay hanging in the air.

He nods.

“Me back in the directors chair? You back in the spotlight? What do you say?” He throws his hands forward, blue flannel swishing at his sides at the force of his actions.

“Yes! Yes, a thousand times yes,” you shout, overjoyed. If someone didn’t know better, they’d have thought Richie just asked for you to marry him.

He grabs you around the waist, twirling you around.

“Thank you,” he laughs as he talks and starts to try to make you dance to the music, “You’re the best.”

You try not to let tears well up in your eyes and you finally lean into the embrace, follow his steps to dance around the room. Richie grabs the remote for the sound bar next and turns up the volume even more, your neighbors complaining about the noise be damned. This calls for a celebration.

You shout over the music,

“This is going to be so good for the podcast!”

[modernmanblues]

sing a mean tune kid

CH 1: ONLY THE BEGINNING

a/n: and here we are, the first chapter in this wonderful story. in this chapter, we are introduced to the main protagonists, Robert, Lee and Andy. we will quickly learn why Andy may have a little trouble with Robert and Lee (they can be a handful, those meddlin’ kids!) anyways, not much to say here except i hope you all enjoy and once again, please give me feedback on whether i should write more chapters! Ta 💖

themes: general silliness, curiosity, insinuating rivalry between band members, hot women 😏

“Most of you probably know me as Bobby Lamm but today, you may call me Robert.”

April 4, 1973. The time is 8:00 am.

“I hope I’m making myself clear, boys. I need you to take this stuff seriously. This radio station needs more productivity, which means we gotta figure out a way to gain more listeners! Just stick to the plan and play the top 40 hits listed on this paper.” Andy says matter-of-factly as he looks at Robert and Lee dead in the eyes.

Andy is dressed in red and black flannel, sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, and tucked underneath his skinny bell bottom denim jeans. He has on his favorite pair of cowboy boots. He stands with both his hands resting on his waist, showing his authority as program director.

He hands the men the top 40 list. Robert and Lee squint as they read through the list, nodding their heads slowly as they analyze each song that’s on the list.

“Is that understood boys?” he questions Robert and Lee.

“Yes, sir!” like two army cadets, Robert and Lee respond in unison, giving Andy a slightly petrified look.

“Good, good now let’s get funky boys!” Andy smiles at the men and does a little dance as he exits the control room.

Robert and Lee turn to each other slowly, smirking rather mischievously before bursting into laughter.

“I hope I’m making myself clear, boys!” Lee says mockingly in his best Andy Travis impression.

“Oh Andy Travis, program director of WKRP, please marry me.” Robert responds in an exaggerated female voice while batting his eyes and making kissy faces at Lee.

Lee and Robert laugh like two hyenas as they fall back into their seats. As they regain composure, they both examine the control panel.

“Huh, I wonder what this button does.” Robert says as he pushes a random button on the control panel and immediately, a red light on the control panel begins flashing.

“Oh sh—” Robert’s eyes grow big and begins to panic. He realizes he’s now live on the air.

“Say something, man!” Lee whispers in a panicked voice.

“Hello.” Robert says in a deep, suave voice. “This is Robert Lamm, keyboardist of Chicago and today you folks are lucky because you get to hear me provide DJ services until 4 pm for all your rock ‘n roll needs.” He smirks and gives Lee a slightly nervous look.

“You’re doing so well, my dear, keep it up!” Lee whispers as he smiles at Robert.

“Most of you probably know me as Bobby Lamm but today, you may call me Robert.” he continues to speak rather suavely. He pauses for a second, then continues his dialogue. “Today our lovely WKRP listeners are in for treat! I am joined by my lovely assistant and the world’s best trumpet player, Mr. Lee Loughnane!” he gestures at Lee to begin talking.

Nervous, Lee clears his throat then begins speaking into the mic.

“Well, hello all you beautiful people of Cincinnati. It is I, the great Lee Loughnane! Robert and I are two of the finest DJ’s Cincinnati has to offer so we hope we fill your morning with joy with our high quality DJ services.”

As Lee continues with his spiel, Robert takes out one of Elton John’s newest albums, Don’t Shoot Me I’m Only the Piano Player and places it on the turntable. He gently sets the needle down on the record and waits for Lee to finish talking before he begins playing a song off the record.

“..and here’s Elton with one of my personal favorites off his newest record, Crocodile Rock.” Lee points to Robert to cue him to begin playing the song. The song begins to pulsate through the tiny control room. Robert scrambles to find the mute button on the control panel and presses it gracefully with his long index finger.

The men slouch into their seats and breathe a sigh of relief.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Robert looks at Lee, his clear blue eyes slightly twinkling.

“Not bad for amateurs.” Lee smiles widely through his beard. He shakes his hair vigorously, then run his fingers through his silky, golden curls to fix it.

Robert rests his legs against the control panel, being careful not to accidently push any buttons.

“Hey man, you want some coffee? I can ask that stunning secretary of ours if she can make us some.” Lee smirks at Robert.

Robert’s eyes widen once again then stares at Lee. “Oh man, she’s so hot, let me tell ya!”

“Yeah, that’s what I was saying! So damn hot!” Lee exclaims. “It’s always the blondes, man.”

Robert chuckles. “I bet she has a boyfriend though.” He follows Lee with his eyes as Lee rises from his seat.

Lee stretches while standing, then yawns as he scratches his side. “Sadly, you’re probably right, man.” Lee looks down and pouts like a child.

“She would be one lucky gal to have one of us as a boyfriend ya know.” Robert chuckles.

“Yeah but she’s out of our league, man. I mean the girl comes from old money, I betcha. Look at the way she carries herself. She’s clearly rich!” Lee says matter-of-factly.

“Are you boys talking about me?” the female voice resonates throughout the entire room, making the boys jump of their seats. Robert and Lee turn to see that it’s Jennifer Marlowe.

Jennifer is dressed in her maroon pencil dress, her blonde hair is tied up in a neat bun. She grins widely at the two boys while holding two coffee mugs with both hands, which are steaming with hot coffee. She carefully brushes past the men and places the mugs on the center console of the control panel.

“Jennifer Marlowe!” Robert and Lee say in unison, ogling at Jennifer head to toe.

“Hi boys, I didn’t mean to snoop on ya but I thought I’d bring you two some fresh hot coffee. Mornings can get a little tough here at the KRP. I know coffee always picks me up!” Jennifer says with enthusiasm.

She takes some time to examine the men from head to toe but pays extra attention to Robert. She notices how his white dress shirt is unbuttoned halfway, revealing a patch of chest hair and notices the brown talisman he’s wearing around his neck— adorned with three small brown pendants in the center. She grins at Robert, and the two stare at each other for a while.

Jennifer smiles at Robert. “So you must be Robert.”

“Yes ma’am. ‘Tis I.” Robert says softly.

She walks over to him slowly and begins playing with his hair. Robert gives her a confused look and doesn’t take his eyes off her as he tries to figure out her next move.

“My, my your hair is getting so long. It seemed shorter in the photos. It must be the new trend, fellas growing out their hair.” she says, smiling widely at Robert.

Robert chuckles. “I guess I’m trying to go for the John Lennon look. That’s what everyone’s doing these days.”

“What about me?” Lee says with a huge grin on his face, his ocean blue eyes twinkling as he stares at Jennifer.

Jennifer smiles at Lee while walking over to him. She looks up at him and starts playing with his hair. Lee shakes his curls while Jennifer plays with them.

Jennifer giggles. “Well aren’t you just the most adorable thing, Mr. Loughnane?”

“Please, call me Lee. Geez..Mr. Loughnane. What am I old or something?” Lee chuckles, looking at Jennifer with a child-like smile.

“Ok Lee.” She grins at him. ���Anyways, I’ve been meaning to ask you boys if you have any idea who left this stinky sock on my desk.” She yells out for a young woman by the name of Bailey to come in. “Oh, Bailey!!”

Bailey Quarters, the pretty blue-eyed, petite brunette, who is the devoted editor for the station, scurries into in the control room and her facial expression changes the moment she lays eyes on the men. Her jaw drops slightly and her eyes widen. Without saying a word, she looks at the men disdainfully as she shows them the dirty sock.

“Yes, well I’m sure you boys realize that your mothers are not around to clean up your mess for you.” Jennifer says, her tone slightly maternal.

Robert grabs the sock from Bailey and pinches his nose as he gets a whiff of it. He tosses the sock to Lee.

“That’s definitely not mine! See, I actually do my laundry unlike some people I know.” Robert slowly turns his head to Lee and glares at him.

“Sweet baby Jesus, this thing reeks! And this is definitely not my sock either, Jennifer, I swear! I’m a good boy and I do my laundry just like Robert.” Lee says to Jennifer matter-of-factly while pinching his nose.

“Wait a minute—” Robert examines the sock again and grimaces as he begins to realize who the sock belongs to.

“Oh I know whose sock this is.” Robert says in a stern voice, narrowing his eyes as he examines the sock once again.

“Yeah, man. I think I might know too.” Lee adds, while looking at Robert.

Robert and Lee look at the sock then, looking at each other in the eyes, they both begin to grimace.

“Cetera…” the boys say sternly in unison.

“I’m sorry, is that one of your people?” Jennifer asks.

“Yes, it sure is. Peter fucking Cetera. I got into a fist fight with that fool last week after he got home drunk and demanded to fight with me. Anyways, his room is like a pig pen, it’s always a mess. That sock belongs to him, and he probably came in earlier and left it on your desk to try and sabotage our image. He’s just mad that Lee and I get to be radio DJs for a month while he’s stuck helping his mother with chores back home.” Robert says, a hint of bitterness in his tone.

“Yeah, Jennifer. That boy definitely has some growing up to do.” Lee adds.

Bailey walks slowly over to the boys to get a closer look at them. She looks at them both with admiration, her jaw dropping slightly.

“Woooww. I don’t mean to change the topic but Jennifer, can you believe we’re breathing the same air as the guys from Chicago right now?” Bailey says with delight, gazing in awe at Robert then at Lee. “Which one of you is Robert?”

The men look at each other smiling then look back at Bailey.

“Meee!!!” Lee chirps.

Robert cups his mouth with his hand to try and stifle his laugh while looking at Lee, knowing fully well this is child’s play.

“Yes, and I’m Terry Kath.” Robert adds, smirking at Bailey.

“Oh. Wow, Robert, I didn’t realize you had facial hair and thick curls! my, oh my!” Bailey says to Lee.

Lee laughs then tells Bailey the truth. “We’re just messin’ with ya. I’m Lee and this is Robert.” Lee points to Robert.

Bailey walks over to Robert and stares at him for a minute. “My God you’re—”

Andy suddenly storms into the control room and has a puzzled look on his face when he notices Bailey and Jennifer’s presence.

“Alright, ladies. These boys need to get to work, they’re not here to fraternize with groupies.” Andy says with stern in his tone.

“Oh Andy, I was just on my way out the door anyway. It was a pleasure talking to you both!” Jennifer blows a kiss at the boys as she scurries out the room.

“Yeah..Andy…uhhh…I was just—” Bailey gives Andy a frightened look, then exits the room swiftly.

“And as for you two—” Andy looks at the boys dead in the eyes, raising his index finger at Lee then at Robert like a disgruntled grade school teacher.

“Crap! it’s time for the next song!” Robert exclaims.

Robert rushes over to the control panel to announce the next song. He looks at the next song on the list, a tiny smile breaks across his face when he sees that it’s his song, Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

Robert leans over to the mic but pauses briefly as he thinks about a good transitional speech.

“So Elton, huh? man, that boy sure can sing. Anyways, that was our dear friend, Elton with one of his newest hits, Crocodile Rock. Up next is a song written by yours truly. Here’s Chicago with Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is? Robert looks over at the turntable and sees that Lee has conveniently placed the record on it, ready to be played. Right on cue, Lee carefully plants the needle on the record and music begins to fill the tiny studio once again. Robert hits the mute button on the control panel and begins to sing under his breath.

“..to me and asked me, what the time was..” Robert sings softly.

“..on my watch, yeaahh and I saaaiidd…” Andy joins in singing.

“..does anybody really know what time it is? does anybody really care?..” Lee chimes in.

The men proceed to sing the rest of the lyrics in perfect harmony. For a moment, they forget about all their problems and immerse themselves into the wonderful music.

—————————————————————————— please visit my masterlist if you would like to see some of my other work :))

[aaintgood]

this love

pairings : chris evans x actress!reader

warnings : angst, swearing

Where are you? I miss you.

You sent the tenth text to Chris, he wasn't answering your calls. You we're so worried about him.

"Hey, Y/N? The director said you're up!" said your assistant, glancing back to your phone hoping for a reply, you sighed and put it back again to your bag.

Everyone wrapped up the movie, it was finally done! You're free to go home and rest.

You we're home, finally. Walking to the house you greeted dodger with a kiss on his head, "Hey bud, you miss me?" you cooed while the dog kept waggling his tail, a loud bark came from dodger while he pulls away from you. Your phone buzz, standing up you got it from your back pocket.

Behind you :)

Not having second thoughts, you turned around and saw him a big smile plastered on his face, arms opened for a hug.

Running, you let out a squeal while you give him a big hug, arms wrapped on his shoulders legs around his waist. He let's out an chuckle hugging you back, spinning the both of you around.

"You're home early! I miss you," kissing him your other hand was now caressing his cheek while he kissed back.

The kiss was slow, it was full of love.

Pulling away, he puts you down on your feet, "I miss you more." he answered your question cheerfully.

His smile, you love that smile it makes all your tiredness vanished away... The tiredness that painted your eyes we're long gone and was now replaced with love, and it was the same for him.

Tomorrow came, you ate breakfast with him at a small café, cameras everywhere. Spent the afternoon playing at the dog park with dodger.

He was taking you to dinner now, Chris stopped in front of a building confusing you, he gets out first before going to your side to open yours. It was cold, you we're only wearing a spaghetti strap dress, noticing you we're cold he took off his red flannel covering your shoulders.

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders, "This dorm was once a mad house," he pointed towards your old room where you both first met "well, it's made for me" you joked, chuckling you looked at Chris who was already looking at you. "What are we doing here, by the way?" you asked while he shrugged. "It just came to my mind baby, plus! I have a surprise for you in a couple blocks away from here." he said kissing your cheek while you both we're now going inside the car.

"Ready bub?" He asked while he started the car, you felt bad for feeling nervous over a dinner but you nod smiling, "Yes! I'm excited." you lied.

Arriving in a open area, lights that we're hanged on the trees made you see the white circle table that we're placed in the center of a red rose petals that we're formed into a heart.

Both your hands we're turning cold as you got out the car walking to the area, Chris held your hand but you dropped it while you walked faster, getting closer you heard a hint of classical music.

"Wow, you prepared all of this?" you looked around.

"you like it?" he asks.

"No, i love it!" you smiled sweetly.

Sitting down, Chris infront of you the food was place in the middle with some guy who walked away after.

You finished eating, while Chris pulled a wine bottle under the table, you laughed. It was a Dom Pérignon champagne wine, finally! You thought, something to ease off the cold you we're feeling. The guy came back with two wine glasses that we're already filled with the vintage wine,

That was why half of the wine was gone, you thought.

The two of you clinked your glasses, sipping on the wine, your mouth went dry it wasn't because of the wine it was shiny probably the most beautiful thing you've ever seen, Chris noticed your quietness as he grabbed the glass that you put down seconds ago, you we're scared.

You weren't scared of Chris, scared of hurting him, He was everything you could ask for a man, although he do things you don't quite frankly understand, but you love that, you love him, he was perfect and so we're you, he thinks!

For you it seems like the world was in slow motion it was like it knows your answer so it's punishing you by slowing the time, he softly grab the shining ring, grinning ear to ear while he knelt beside you. Memories of you and Chris flashed through your mind like sonic, it we're the happy ones.

You're body turn cold, your mouth was dry, Chris was on his knee with a smile, you hate that smile, it made you feel guilty. Everything was chaos on your head.

"Y/N.. i love you very much, we've known each other for years and throughout those years i couldn't be the happiest, you are my joy, my sadness, and my heart, no one compares, do you want to spend the rest of your life with me and marry me?" he asked.

"No.. I won't marry you," you said.

Chris with shaky breaths stood up, he was towering you his shoulders slump, you ran away.. You can't stay there, it was making you suffer, you had to leave.

"Piece of shit! Ugh! Cooperate!" you whispered yelled zipping up your luggage, you we're leaving boston, there was nothing here that's left for you to stay, your job's done, your relationship also. You can't help but let out a painful cry, just like the ones you do in the movies

It was all coming back to you, but there was no backing out, what's done is done. You have to focus now on your job, you need to be back to your younger self, sleeping alone, cleaning, watching movies, all by yourself.

You weren't ready, you don't wanna force yourself to say yes, and you didn't even know what was gonna be your answer if no one was down on their knee, before! Now you knew and it was a lot of work moving on..

Weeks had passed, the media knew about your relationship it was all around the Internet!

CHRIS EVANS AND Y/N Y/LN BROKE UP?

Y/N Y/L/N says no to CAPTAIN AMERICA aka CHRIS EVANS PROPASAL!

You red the fan comments, tears we're now visible in your now puffy eyes, you've been crying all weak! If it's not about Chris it was the movies you we're filming.

She could've made such a lovely bride, such a shame their fucked in the head, they said.

"Y/N? what the fuck!" Sebastian Stan, your bestfriend, he was yours and Chris' friend you don't if you say that anymore, there was no you and Chris now.

"Get up, look at you! You're a mess," he whispered softly picking you up from the floor.

"They hate me.." you whispered while looking up to him, "Well you did it to yourself!" Sebastian said, he seems to not be thinking about his words but he doesn't deserve to say shit to you like that. "I wasn't ready, okay? I wasn't fucking ready! What do you want me to do? Force my fucking self to say fucking yes to him? I love him! I love him so much, and saying no was me not being ready, what are the odds if i said yes and then the next shit I'm runaway bride! Dammit Sebastian! I love the guy, i wasn't really ready to go on a next step.. " you we're now again down on the floor crying while hugging your legs.

"I'm sorry, I really am," Seb said hugging you instantly his chin on your head, "I'll be here, I'm sorry if i said that, there's alot going on work too.."

You hugged him back eventually, "Can you give this letter to him? Please? One last time, he deserves to know" you beg to sebastian while grabbing the piece of paper, you had wrote on it before you we're a crying mess.

Years had passed, Chris moved on, he was living happily with his wife they were expecting a baby soon, she did all the things you can't do.

And here you we're, you continued acting you we're more successful than before, you didn't bother getting in a relationship you we're happy with just yourself and maybe Sebastian who can't leave you alone, after the letter Chris started showing up to the media.

Sebastian was watching his new movie when you walked inside, "Honey, I'm home!" you joked jumping to the couch, you layed your head on his lap while he gives your forehead a peck, "Welcome home, honeybunch" you can't help but laugh while standing up throwing the couch pillows at him.

Sebastian's phone rung, it was all so fast, you heard his voice your heard sebastian congratulating him about his movie and the little bean, "Oh hey Chris, Y/N is here" he made you join his side so you could be seen, "if it isn't the EGOT winner! Hey Congrats!" he said through the phone, you scoffed and flipped your hair back as joke, "piece of cake! Thank you.. Congratulations on yours too! A movie and a baby that's so fucking awesome!" you said.

"Oh look who's here, dodger come say hi to mommy," he said kneeling down to dodger, "Baby, hi! I miss you love" you cooed, "He misses you too! He kept waiting to the door for you to pick him up, it's been weeks since you haven't seen him!"

"Help, dodger sounds like a child of divorce!" Sebastian joked, while you both glared at him, "C'mon stan, bad joke!" Chris said his boston accent sound amazing! "My bad! You weren't really divorced! There wasn't any wedding!" the three of you laughed, it was a real genuine laugh.

You we're okay with Chris that sometimes when you meet you talked for some time and even joked! He was a great man, he understands you and that's what you like about him being your friend.

Everything was going better, and sometimes you've always wonder what would it be if you we're ready back then but you brushed it off, everything's fine.

[canonicallysoulmates]

J2 Main Panel Vegascon 2022

Things start off with Jared leaving Jensen speechless, don’t believe me watch for yourself; you see the very same fan who awesomely shares these panels with us had gifted Jared a purple dog shirt just like the one Sam wears in s1! And Jared changed from the shirt he had on during the Gold to that one during this panel, only Jensen didn’t know about it so when Jared took off the flannel he had on to reveal the shirt Jensen was left surprised and liking what he saw 😏

First question is, what are Jensen's feelings on Voltron? For those that don’t know Voltron was a show in the 80’s, the question comes about because Jensen has said he was a fan of Thundercats which is contemporary with Voltron- I think they came out like a year apart. Jensen doesn’t really have an opinion, he doesn’t remember it that well, and Jared doesn’t even know what Voltron is. When the fan recommends checking it out and mentions there was even a reboot on Netflix Jared jokes that he didn’t know about the reboot, this man *snort*

Before they move on to the second question, Jensen remembers a dad joke now if you didn’t watch the Gold panel or read my post about it during the Gold panel a fan asked if they had any new dad jokes but they couldn’t remember any at the time. But he remembered one…and it’s so bad but it’s a dad joke so I guess that makes it good anyways “what is it called when you slap Dwayne Johnson in the ass? Hitting rock bottom” x

Moving on, what is something that makes them smile, laugh, or brightens their day outside of their spouses and kids? Jared says the gag reels which he watches all the time, and Jensen concurs that they make him laugh. Jared also mentions that he likes pranking videos and when he told Molly Hagan, who plays his mom on Walker, she told him she hates them, and to never prank her and he said yes, ma’am.

And then since they were on the topic of pranks Jensen shares a prank he pulled on Jared while on the Walker set! There’s a crew member who’s about the same size as a giant stuffed bear prop they were using for a carnival scene and the bear was hanging by where Jared had to pass and Jensen made sure Jared saw him kick the bear so he could see it was fake but on take 2 they switched it out for the crew member in a bear suit who jumped Jared as he walked by and Jared froze 😂

Jensen also mentioned that he’s a sucker for soldiers coming home videos. x

What has it been like working together again? Like they never stopped. Aww; Jared says that on Jensen’s birthday it occurred to them that the first birthday they were sharing a set together on was in 2005 🥺

He said he couldn’t be on set the first couple of days Jensen was there because he had a prior engagement he had agreed to a while ago but that meant that the Walker crew got to meet Jensen as Jensen Ackles the super talented, efficient director. And when he got to set he got to brag about him, and got to tell his crew that there’s no chance Walker would have happened if it hadn’t been for spn and there’s no chance there’d be an spn if it wasn’t for Jensen. That it was fun to show him off, and think of 30 different chair backs. This is so sickeningly sweet, I love it 💕

I know I’m not the only who loves it when the boys groom each other so here’s a timestamp to Jared removing something from Jensen’s face x

Jensen was asked about the third Radio Company album. He says it has been written for a while. They just haven’t had a chance to record it but hope to have something in the next few months. x

Asked who the clumsiest cast member is, the answer is Jared. Jensen describes him as being like a great dane who thinks he’s a chihuahua which is funny, cute, and accurate all at once. x

A fan wanted to know which ep was more fun to make between Mystery Spot, Bad Day at Black Rock and Yellow Fever except they didn’t remember Yellow Fever at first; so Jared originally says Mystery Spot because he knew when Jensen was running the humor on spn that he would always end up laughing because Jensen always kills it at the comedy. But when the fan remembers Yellow Fever, they both say Yellow Fever was probably the most fun one to make even though for Jensen one bad part about it was that he was hoarse for three days after the scream. x

Fan wanted to know since Chaos Machine’s head of development has expressed a passion around LGBTQ characters, and they’ve both supported LGBTQ organizations if Jensen could talk about his thoughts on inclusive storytelling and using his platform to make a difference. He says their head of development is a member of that community and has helped instrumental in helping them find material that includes stories like that, and they have a few projects in development with that type of story and those types of characters who they really wanna represent properly. x

Can Jensen give any hints about possible DC projects he may be working on in the future? Nope! All Jensen can say is that they’re currently working with other producers who fall under the WB umbrella and are working on an IP that was brought to them from DC. x

What are their fav superheroes, and what are Sam and Dean’s fav superheroes? Jensen says Batman for both him and Dean. Jared says probably Superman although he also loves Batman and thinks he’s pretty badass. Then Jensen asks Jared what superpower he would have if he could and Jared says Aquaman which listen he didn’t explain his reasons that well…but I get it. Aquaman’s powers aren’t limited to just “talking to fish '' or being able to breathe underwater, he also has super strength, being able to see in the dark, enhanced hearing, I think there’s even an iteration where he can fly. Point is if you’re going to pick a superhero to gain the powers of Aquaman isn’t a bad option.

Jensen says he’d like to be able to see just like 5 mins into the future. He asks if there’s any superheroes that have that ability and a fan shouts out foresight but I don’t know if they were yelling out what the power is called or the name of a comic book character cause DC does have some characters named that but I couldn't find anything about them being superheroes or having the power to only see minutes forward into the future 🤷‍♀️

Continuing on, do they remember the exorcism incantation? Jensen doesn’t, Jared remembers some; Jared says that one time when Jensen had to do the incantation he told him he was gonna try and do a bad job so he wouldn’t have to do it again 😂

Fan wants to know if they could recommend some shows for their friend to binge watch while they’re recovering from surgery. Jared says he’s bad at the question, I couldn’t understand very well his reason but it seems he’s just not into binge watching. Jensen gives a couple of recommendations: Peaky Blinders, Yellowstone,The Boys, etc. x

Outside of spn who have they worked with that gave them good advice, and who would they like to work with in the future? They both say that when it comes to people they’d like to work with in the future that’s difficult to answer because there’s big names that’d be amazing to work with and learn from but there’s also great actors who are more unknown or are just beginning. As for people who gave them advice, Jared says Milo Ventimiglia took him under his wing when he worked on Gilmore Girls. He would give him recommendations on places to go to and things to do around LA, and Jared was brand new to this world he didn’t even know you could leave the set in the long breaks between scenes so he would just sit in his trailer until one day Milo asked him if he wanted to grab lunch and that’s when he learned he could leave. Jensen says Tom Welling gave him a lot of good advice that he and Jared used when they worked on spn. Like things they should watch out for and fight for as leads of a show, and they have passed that advice along to other actors like Stephen Amell. x

Do they have any traditions with their kids like watching a specific show together every week? Jared says not with Odette, most of that is Netflix but he watches football with his sons and Shep is a big fan of sports and stuff about dinosaurs so he’ll watch that with him. Jensen says they got a Nintendo Switch for Christmas and he’ll play with JJ and Zeppelin, Arrow likes to sit and cheer her siblings on. He also says he drives the kids to school everyday and JJ thinks he knows every song on the radio because she’ll randomly pick a station and he’ll know what song is playing but what she doesn’t know yet is that the radio is set to the stations he listens to. x

Last question! What did they hide when they did their AD shoots? ….I’m gonna tell y’all what they said and then I’ll tell y’all what I think.

Jared after laughing and stumbling a bit said a lot but most of the stuff they hid was probably kids toys at which point Jensen says kids toys, parents toys. For some quick context as to why the awkward laughing and joking about sex toys it’s because a couple of years ago Jared accidentally (or “accidentally” whoever you wanna look at it) tweeted a picture of the house where you could clearly see a sex toy. Jensen says he doesn’t think they hid anything because D just throws things out, he’ll ask her about something and she’ll say if he doesn’t know he doesn’t need it that she threw it out 6 months prior. But there were things brought in like the sex plant.

I’m gonna make this fast. I find something weird about their answer and reaction to this question, I don’t know what it is but I do; and like, am I expected to believe that AD brought in items but they didn’t consult them on what to hide or what to showcase, and that they didn’t have people prep the house cause that’s what it comes across. I don't know maybe it's just me, I found the vibe weird.

Also, I suddenly understand why it is that so many times when we see the Ackle homes it seems more like D’s place and aesthetic. Because by what Jensen says she throws things out without asking him so why he would keep his shit there if she's just gonna toss it without consulting him first. x

And then they sang Happy Birthday to Jensen at the end of the panel 🎂

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[cjsinkythoughts]

FATWS One Shot #2 - The Beginning of a Family

Word Count: 1804

Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Human Trafficking (once, it was a mission Reader did), Minor Character Injury

Setting/Characters: The first half-ish of The Avengers in 2012; Reader, Steve Rogers, Nick Fury, Natasha Romanoff, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, Mentions of Loki, Phil Coulson, and Clint Barton, OC!Agent Anderson

A/N: Here’s One Shot Number 2! I was thinking of making it longer and adding the actual Battle of Manhattan, but I dunno if I’m gonna do that. I just wanted these to be One Shots of first meetings and other smaller events. I didn’t want to do scene-for-scene two parters. If you want me to, I can, I don’t mind doing it, I just wasn’t planning on it. I’ve kinda been slacking today, which is why I haven’t cranked out more than this one, but I’ll see if I can finish one more for tonight. Tomorrow’s another late night for me at work, BUT! Tomorrow night FATWS comes out! So I will be doing the next Episode! I also don’t have Friday off this week, so the Parts might bleed into Saturday, but they will come this weekend!

Reminder that this has nothing to do with FATWS the show, but I don’t have a title for my FATWS Series, which is what these are based off of, so this is what they’re called for now! If you have any ideas for names, feel free to send them in! I’m just too lazy to come up with something clever for the whole Series.

Thank you so much for reading! As always, not beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Be kind to yourselves and others! Stay tuned and enjoy!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

You were exhausted, coming back from an assignment that lasted a little over two months. It’d been your first one since you were assigned to help Steve adjust, and you were guessing they’d keep you on desk duty for a few months before sending you back out again. Which frustrated you to no end.

But then you got back your personal cell phone from a fellow agent and, seeing you had a few  voicemails - which you never had - you flipped it on.

“Hi, Y/N.” Your lips turned up at the man you started growing close to over the past year. “I-I know you’re on a mission right now. I mean, you just left last week. Anyways, I just…I hope you’re doin’ okay. You probably won’t get this until later, but…still. I hope you’re safe. I, uh, I got that book. The one you were joking about me getting. The U.S. History for Dummies one. It goes farther back than I need to know, but I still read all of it. It helped. I wish you were here though. But I know you’re working. And that’s important. Um… I guess I’ll see you in a few months.”

The phone beeped before the next message played. “I took your advice. I got a sketchbook and some other stuff. There’s a ton of new supplies. I’m kinda excited to try them out. Maybe they’re not new but they’re more accessible now than they used to be. And I found a gym. In Brooklyn. It’s kinda run down - a hole in the wall type place - but they don’t do memberships and they don’t care how long you stay as long as you pay for your time. So that’s nice. I guess. Anyways…hi. I don’t think I said that earlier. It’s Steve, by the way. But you probably guessed that. Um…that’s all. I just wanted to let you know. Stay safe, honey. Abbyssinia.”

You listened to the next couple ones, all along the same lines. Steve telling you about his day; about the dog he was allowed to pet on his run or the different coffee he tried this morning at your previous suggestion. You snickered a little, shaking your head. You would never guessed that Hitler hitting, Nazi punching Captain America was so…soft. Cute.

His last voicemail was from earlier that morning, and it made her brow furrow. “Hey, honey. I, uh…God, I really wish you were here. I was told you’d be getting back last week, but then they said it might be another couple weeks because something happened? I hope nothing happened. Please be okay. I’ve really missed you. I know it’s only been a year, but…you’re the only familiar thing I have right now. I guess Fury was right to choose you since you were the first person I saw. There’s a, uh, problem. Fury’s got a mission for me. Some guy named Loki stole the Tesseract. Which was HYDRA’s secret weapon. That blue cube thing. I was just getting used to laptops and fast food and this…it’s just a lot. Overwhelming. You were always good at making things less intimidating. I’ve gotta go. Some SHIELD personnel are picking me up now. We’re going to…somewhere. I’m sure you would know, but they haven’t exactly told me. Hoping to see you soon, Y/N. Please be safe.”

You frowned at the information, looking up at one of your fellow agents, Anderson. “Hey.” He turned his head towards you from his conversation with the copilot. “Is something going on at HQ?”

“The Helicarrier.” Anderson corrected. “Fury just called it in. Something with the Tesseract. And some guy’s mind controlling people. He’s got Barton, apparently. The director is bringing a few people on board; Banner, Stark, Romanoff. Rogers, too, I heard. He wants you to be there ASAP, so we’re going there now.”

Letting out a sigh, you rubbed your eyes and nodded. “Alright. Let’s go see what’s going on.”

*************************

Fury met you as you walked off the jet, lugging your duffle bag over your shoulder. You were still in your clothes from the mission; a human trafficking ring in Guam. Dirty, torn up jeans along with a white tank top hugging your torso and a flannel, unbuttoned, over your shoulders. One of your sneakers had a hole in it, too, and you were walking with a slight limp from the dislocated kneecap you got a few days prior.

“Agent.” He nodded in greeting, passing you a file. “The others are waiting. We just brought in Loki.”

You chewed your cheek, narrowing your eyes as you scanned the information in the file. It had personal files of the others, but you didn’t need to look through those. You knew Natasha very well, considering she taught you half the things you know, along with Barton. You knew Stark - of course you did - especially after you helped set Natasha up to be his secretary a while back. Banner you were also knowledgeable about, seeing as you went undercover to find him when he first took off and had been part of the tracking team on him ever since. Thor you had learned about after his fiasco in New Mexico from Coulson. And, last but certainly not least, Steve Rogers, who you knew better than any file could explain.

“Walk me through this; Thor and Loki are the real Thor and Loki? Like, from Norse myths?”

“Apparently so. You know about the New Mexico incident with the two last year, don’t you?”

You nodded, pinching your lips together tightly. “Well, yeah, but I thought…I dunno. I guess it just didn’t click. So,” you tucked the file under your arm securely, raising an eyebrow at Fury. “We’re fighting a god? An actual god?”

“With an army of aliens.” He confirmed.

“Wonderful.” You huffed as the two of you turned a corner, making your way onto the bridge, just in time to hear Stark talking to Banner about him turning into the Hulk.

“Dr. Banner is only here to track the cube.” Fury butted in. You crossed your arms behind Fury, leaning on your good leg. “I was hoping you might join him. Before you do, this is-” 

“Y/N! You’re back!”

You shot a grin to the blonde, who perked up upon seeing you. “Hi, Steve. Just in time, too, huh.” You nudged Natasha slightly. “Hey, Nat. Sorry about Clint.”

She shrugged. “I’m just glad you’re here to help.”

“I’m sorry.” You looked over to find Banner frowning contemplatively at you. “Do I know you?”

You opened your mouth to answer, but Fury beat you to it. “Formalities later. Y/L/N, we’ll bring you up to speed-”

“I’ll get there, sir. How are you boys planning on tracking down the Tesseract?” You questioned, nodding in the two geniuses’ direction.

“I’d start with that stick of his.” Steve suggested, turning to look at the duo as well. “It may be magical but it works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.”

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube.” Fury stated. “And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys.”

A tall, broad as hell blonde looked at Fury, confused. “Monkeys? I do not understand-”

“I do!” Steve jumped in, pointing at Thor, before leaning back in his seat at the silence that came after his exclamation. “I-I understood that reference.”

You chuckled and shook your head, winking at Steve when he smiled bashfully at you. As the two scientists - was Stark a scientist? - started heading out, Steve hopped up, padding over to you.

“You’re back early.”

“Late, technically.” You shrugged, letting him pull you in for a hug, your hand rubbing his back. “I got your calls.”

He pulled away, his ears turning red. “Oh, yeah. I, uhm-”

You sniggered. “It’s fine, Steve. You can call me whenever you need to. I’m just sorry I couldn’t answer you sooner.”

“You were working.” He shrugged half heartedly. “Did it go okay? Are you okay?”

“Yes, Steven. I’m fine.” You rolled your eyes just as a yawn threatened to escape your lips. “If not a little tired.” You tapped on the star against his chest. “Nice suit, by the way.”

“Ha ha.” He grinned, eyeing your own clothing. “You’re matching me.” He tugged on the red, white, and blue flannel hanging from your arms. “You also look like shit.”

You snorted. “Wow. What a gentleman. Let’s get this whole Loki situation over with so I can go to bed, yeah?”

He chuckled a little with a nod. “Sounds like a plan, honey.” The two of you started out of the bridge. “You should shower first, though.”

“You’re a bully, you know that?”

“I’m just sayin’!”

“I’m just sayin’!” You mocked with a huff. “Leave me be, Rogers.”

His laughter was cut short, making you look over at him curiously, only to find his slitted eyes studying your movements. “Why are you limping?”

“Relax, Captain. I just dislocated my knee. It’s fine. Shit happens on missions, you know that.”

“Is that why you came back late?”

Shaking your head, you lead him to one of the private rooms the Helicarrier had so you could shower and change. “No. I just needed a little more time. That’s all. Now let’s focus on the problem at hand. We can talk more later.”

He hesitated, leaning against the doorway and watching you set your bag on the small cot.  “Okay. As long as you’re alright.”

Your heart jumped a bit at the concern laced in his tone, the apprehension in those blue eyes - which you found out had some green in them - making your breath hitch slightly. “I am.” You spoke softly with a firm nod of your head, trying to assure him and his worries. “I promise.”

“I’m gonna go check on Banner and Stark, then. Come find me when you’re done.”

You cleared your throat to recover yourself, throwing him a cheeky grin. “Aye, aye, Captain.”

He rolled his eyes with a smile, before turning and walking out, leaving you alone and confused.

What was that? You’d never had that reaction to anything. Your heart doesn’t race whenever someone walks in the room. Not like it did with him. What the hell did that even mean?

You shook your head, clearing your throats. You didn’t have time to dwell on that now. You doubted it was anything more than a fluke. You were just tired and seeing someone familiar, who was genuinely excited to see you was like a breath of fresh air after your operation. That’s all. Yeah.

With that decided, you headed to the shower, head spinning with new thoughts of this problem with the God of Mischief and that stupid blue cube.

All Works Taglist (Open):

@happygoreading​ @bibliophilewednesday​

[kaderp]

ALRIGHT FUCKERS THIS IS GONNA BE A HELLA LONG MEGAPOST AS I WAS GIVEN THE OK

BASICALLY this is gonna be a collection of bullshit me and @blackfliesinbluesugar have come up with and drawn

It starts with Goldie still living in Ireland at 17-19 and Scrooge from ages 18-20 staying in Scotland. And long story short they're dumbasses as teens. Cliche forbidden romance type stuff. Goldie's dad has shot people in the foot for trying to mess around with Goldie or just even talk to her for too long. So the only logical explanation they have is make Scrooge hide in the barn when he visits.

Basically Scrooge chills in the barn for a while cause Goldie's the only one that ever really goes in there because she's in charge of all the chores there. Which is where the context of this post is from

After the first time they fooled around Goldie was like 'oh crap what if I got pregnant D:' and told her mom she's going through a phase of flowey/big dresses when in reality she's trying to hide a potential baby bump. Now her mom doesn't care because she's too caught up in the fact that Goldie is finally 'acting like a lady.'

So eventually because they never put together that 'hey, if we keeping doing this we're gonna end up with a baby', Goldie does end up pregnant. And because her dad is a dick and a 'I catch you with my daughter then you die' type of shotgun dad, Goldie is freaking tf out.

About a month after she finds out she's pregnant, the O'Gilt's (well mostly just Goldie and her mom lol) get invited to a fancy dinner and Scrooge is really wanting to see Goldie again. So what better way to see her than to travel to Ireland, steal a uniform, and sneak into said dinner party as a busboy. Problem is he can't risk Goldie's dad seeing him again so he tries to slick back his whiskers

But while Scrooge is running around, he eventually spots Goldie across the room. Now he's never seen her in anything fancy, usually just the flannel and green work skirt. And he just about dies 😭

By now she has a bit of a baby bump she's had to hide so she normally goes for high waisted dresses that immediately flow out.

Anyways, as Scrooge is putting on the uniform he realizes he has absolutely no idea how to actually be a busboy. He doesn't know the first thing about dining and stuff so he's just like AAAAAAA

As they both see each other, Scrooge gives a dorky grin and Goldie smiles before realizing he snuck in. Right when Scrooge goes to see her he gets dumped with a bunch of dishes he has to set. Goldie sees him struggling to figure out how to set a table and he just gives her a nervous grin while she's like 'oh you beautiful dumbass -_-'

She's turning red cause she's trying so hard not to burst out in laughter as Scrooge slips and a bunch of silverware falls on him

He's getting yelled at by the director but he's just giving Goldie a goofy grin from across the room.

Her parents: remember to be calm and not make a scene no matter wh-

Goldie watching Scrooge trip on the tablecloth: BWAHAHA

But as the dinner progresses, Goldie remembers Scrooge doesn't even know she's pregnant. So she keeps trying to tell him but they both constantly get pulled away to do other things.

Towards the end of dinner Scrooge gets a free moment and realizes then that 'holy shit I actually like really love her!' So he darts to wherever she is and is struggling to get it out cause he doesn't know how much time he has left. He eventually spits it out and tells Goldie he loves her and is immediately called away. Scrooge takes her hands and quickly kisses her cheek before running to wherever the director is calling him from.

Goldie is shocked and stays still for a moment but by the time the shock wears off she realizes Scrooge is already long gone and they don't see each other again. And now Goldie's like 'crap crap crap, he said he loves me and I didn't even tell him I'm pregnant.'

They aren't able to communicate for a while cause Goldie's so focused on trying to keep her family pleased while still hiding her baby bump, and Scrooge keeps getting sidetracked and forgetting to write. (You can't tell me that isn't something he'd do because he kept getting distracted in the life and times when coming back home). He has her address, and he has started a letter, and even his family knows about her. 3ish months pass of no communications until one night Goldie starts contractions.

She darts to the barn after the first contraction and realizes she has to do this alone. A letter takes a day to get to Scrooge and going to Scotland herself would take closer to 7 hours. At that point it would be safer to not move.

It's like 3am by the time she lays and the egg ends up being pretty small. The entire time Goldie was just getting sicker and sicker. She ends up too weak to even hide the egg and has a high fever. She seriously thinks she's not gonna make it for the first night she can barely stay conscious.

The next morning she has just enough strength to lazily hide the egg in the hay and sluggishly make her way back to the main house. Her parents are already up and she explains she started feeling iffy while doing chores and collapses.

Because her parents aren't completely heartless and she still is their daughter, her parents' main focus shifts to trying to nurse her back to health. They assume she fell with a bad flu and don't know she had spent all night laying an egg.

During this time she writes to Scrooge telling him to get over here asap, it's an emergency.

Goldie's parents take over her chores in the barn and the moment they said that Goldie went into panic mode again. During a lunch break she climbs through her window and runs to the barn to hide the egg better. She does, and she successfully makes it back to her room but collapses again and sleeps until the next day.

Scrooge arrives 3 days after she lays and now she's really panicking. She's still weak and sick, and her parents are coming closer and closer to finding the egg. Scrooge when he sees her is genuinely freaking out. Not only for the future and that he now has an egg, but because Goldie did it by herself in a dirty barn. She's still a little loopy even though it's been a few days and Scrooge just feels heart broken that he wasn't there to help. He starts going on a tangent about how she could have died but Goldie just kisses him to get him to stop blabbering.

Scrooge helps her clean up a bit cause even with her parents looking after her, she's still a mess. But as he's washing her and the egg up, they hear fighting from the main house. Her parents realized she wasn't in her bed. She starts crying and tells Scrooge he needs to run home asap because if her dad finds out he'll most definitely kill him and/or the baby.

(This was the first doodle for the au before deciding on an exact age/place/look so don't mind the sloppiness)

Scrooge escapes right as her dad comes in. She pulls the excuse of she thought she felt well enough to do chores.

Scrooge rn is running like a madman back to Scotland. He went from chilling with his family to being a father who's child needs to be kept secret within a day.

By the time Scrooge gets back home it's the middle of the night and is ngl feeling pretty overwhelmed. He tells Downy that he messed up and she's just like ??? So Scrooge holds up the egg and Downy just purses her lips like 'ah'

The next morning Scrooge explains to his family what happened and doesn't leave out any detail. Fergus and Downy obviously have mixed feelings. Scrooge is barely 19 yet he already has a kid??? But in the end they realize they can't change what's happened and focus on helping Scrooge protect this child.

Once the baby hatched, all mixed feelings from Downy erased and she just went into 'this is my grandbaby and no one will touch her' mood.

Scrooge and Goldie kept in contact from the moment Goldie gave away the egg. Because of the little incident of Goldie 'trying to do chores while sick,' she was put under close monitoring for the next few months and couldn't visit each other. After constant writing back and forth, they find a date to meet up half way between Scotland and Ireland so Goldie can meet her baby. They try to decide on baby names through the letter but they can't agree on anything. Goldie finds out that Scrooge moved out of his small Glasgow home and into McDuck Castle. He gives her the new location on the map as well.

The first time Scrooge tries to sneak out with the baby Fergus is just standing right outside with his brow arched and Scrooge starts freaking out.

Before Scrooge can apologize for trying to sneak out, Fergus just asks if Scrooge would like him to go with.

Scrooge is a little shocked but can't talk with the frog in his throat and just nods. Along the way Scrooge explains how he and Goldie have been trying to find the right time to sneak out for weeks because it was so hard for Goldie to get free time. She was sent to go across country to get supplies and uses that opportunity to go meet up with Scrooge and the baby again.

Fergus just nods and continues.

When they do see Goldie, she almost breaks down at the sight that the baby survived and is being raised in a good house hold and can't stop holding her. The baby is about 3 months old by now. They finally agreed on a name and she ended up being named Maryanne. (Yes Jelly and I chose that because it means Star of the Sea)

She has to give the baby back to Scrooge cause stupid teenage and still getting over pregnancy hormones are getting the better of her and she starts full on sobbing as she sits on the ground. Scrooge freezes cause he's like aaaaaa what do I dooooo while still holding the baby.

But Fergus crouches down to her and asks if she wants a hug. All Goldie can say is 'uh huh' and he just wraps himself around her. She hugs back and Fergus rocks back and forth until Goldie's calmed down.

'I'm sorry I pulled your son into the mess. I-I was just so scared that my papa w-would kill one of us that I didn't know what else to do.'

Fergus pulls her away so he can actually look at her. And part of him feels that tinge of fear and sadness that the two teens had experienced. He grabs onto her shoulders which causes Goldie to look up at him.

'While I dinnae agree what you two did was right. Ah'm proud of you. Because what you did, finding the will to give up a child for their own safety, took a lotta strength there, lass.' And before she can react, Fergus pulls her in again and let's it sink in.

Scrooge is still holding the baby but now he's sitting down and bouncing the cooing baby on his knee while watching the scene unfold.

Over the course of the next few months, Goldie visits as much as possible and she grows closer to the family and Scrooge every time. On the times she can't visit, Fergus accompanies Scrooge in order to protect them from Goldie's dad. She's had a few close calls with her dad, but nothing too serious

After those events, Goldie practically moves in with the McDucks and they work on raising Maryanne. However like in the Rosa series, they're still experiencing tax trouble and Scrooge says he's gonna have to go to South Africa. The baby is about 2 by now and Scrooge is almost 21, while Goldie is about 19 and a half.

(This next section was an accident but basically it started as jotting down ideas but turned into a fic after I said it would take 20 seconds to write but turned into 2 hours fjdbfndn)

Scrooge is torn between whether or not to go until Goldie says she'll go with him. And because she's stubborn, no one objects. So the three travel across the world together. Maryanne practically grows up on the sea and all of those adventures where Goldie is present in the DT17 Rewriting History book happen.

On adventures they trade off tying the baby to their backs until she's old enough to not need to anymore. Although for the more dangerous ones, one of them stays behind.

But because they weren't married and had a kid in their teens, they were generally looked down upon. It got to the point where they just started saying they were married in order to avoid conflict with others. And after a while they actually forgot they weren't in fact married

'Huh, I forgot we're not actually married.' 'WAIT WE'RE NOT???'

Or

'We're married' 'Oh ok, can i see your marriage records?' '... oh right'

But some old lady or old guy either way starts criticizing Goldie for being a young mother and they just deck the shit outta them and run. Or Goldie fighting someone with baby tied to her back.

Maryanne grows up to be an ocean cartographer and leads sailing expeditions and that's all we have for her. Also she has super blue eyes lol

That's basically almost all of the things we have for this au lol

[squeeneyart]

Breathe in the Salt - Chapter 25

AO3

Beta reader as always is @thesnadger

Nothing to do but talk.

Martin and Jon settle in for a movie night.

The documentary, if it could be called that, was absolute bunk.

Littered throughout were vague interviews and wild assumptions on the part of the very on-screen director, all tied together with a final push for people to purchase a very specific brand of smoke detector. And the low quality of the video couldn’t be blamed solely on Martin’s internet.

They watched the thing from start to finish, though, and by the end of its 70-minute runtime (“I should’ve guessed by how short it was,” Jon had grumbled partway through) their viewing had turned primarily to Jon taking the piss out of it. Academically, of course.

On Martin’s end the film itself was bad in an enjoyable way, and while he didn’t have the context for all of Jon’s complaints it was easy for him to listen. He’d even made some jokes that got Jon to snort.

He did have to sit uncomfortably straight to keep from leaning against each other. Jon had turned it a bit so they could both see, but when viewed from too hard an angle the picture looked even worse. So, Martin did his best to give Jon space and not let the effort distract him from the screen.

All of this being true, Martin was grateful for the horrible film. Nothing filled silence better than movies and television, so the nights following they settled into a routine. Someone would make dinner (with no further… outbursts) and then they would find something to watch. Afterwards they would say goodnight and Martin would escape upstairs to decompress with his little notebook.

Jon’s original idea had been to find something related to their goals. However, after another let down on night two involving a very old retrospective on the mid-century fishing industry (“Wrong century,” Martin had said about five minutes in), Jon dropped the idea, thus opening up a whole new world of cable television and old vhs tapes on night three.

“You bought yourself a laptop but never had a dvd player?” Jon yawned, getting comfortable on his side of the couch. 

“We sort of… skipped it?” Martin dug through a box of tapes for something worth watching, sifting through sappier options and 80s action flicks alike. “Dunno how, but we never got one. The laptop ended up being the first thing I ever had to play dvds, but the telly is too old to be hooked up to it. S’fine, though. I like tapes.”

“And you never get bored of it? Flipping between tapes and whatever’s on at a given time?”

Martin rolled his eyes. “I have a phone for other stuff, obviously. To be honest I don’t watch a lot to begin with, nothing new anyway.”

“Hmph. Same for me,” Jon conceded, sinking further into the couch. “Feels like there are other things I could be doing.”

“Except for now?”

A wry smile. “Special case.”

Martin’s stomach did a flip. He didn’t feel guilty, per se, but he wished he had something for Jon to work on to stave off the boredom. Everything had been so quiet with Peter gone and Simon’s waiting that no new leads had popped up. It wasn’t fair that Jon had to sit around doing nothing after wandering about in the sea for weeks. The least he could do was provide some entertainment.

“Hm. Right, how about this one?” Martin looked back and waved a vhs set. It was some old fantasy series with a group of children on the cover standing in a hallway. “Haven’t watched it since I was a kid, but I remember liking it.”

“Two tapes’ worth?” Jon glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s in episodes, right?”

“Yeah, though if you’d rather find something else…?”

Jon waved his hand. "No, I can’t spend the whole evening making up my mind. If we don’t like it, then we can find something else.”

With that settled Martin popped the tape in and took up his seat. On the other end, Jon sat with the blanket pulled to his chest. He wore a new set of pyjamas Martin had picked up at the shop along with a few other things to save Jon from having to wear the same clothes day and night. 

The show was a simple series meant for children, easy enough to follow in plot that some side chatter didn’t interrupt things too much. Honestly, Martin was glad they weren’t paying a whole lot of attention. He hadn’t watched it in years and wasn’t looking to be embarrassed.

A few minutes in, the children from the cover were running up the stairs to explore a large house. “Safe to assume you don’t have siblings?” Jon asked.

“Hm? Oh, no, it’s just me. You?”

He snorted. “Even if my grandmother wanted another child running around, I was enough to deal with.”

Martin raised an eyebrow. “What, were you a terror?”

“I’d use the word ‘adventurous’, but she would’ve agreed with that description. If we’d been in that house,” Jon gestured toward the screen, “she would’ve been in trouble. Until it ate me or something.”

“I don’t think that’s how it goes?” 

Jon frowned. “That’s- No, I mean if it were real it would probably mean harm. Supernatural houses aren’t trustworthy entities outside of fiction. In fiction they’re mischievous at the least.”

“Can’t imagine that, a building that likes to mess with you,” Martin said, grimacing. He really didn’t remember much about this story. Maybe that was how it went? “I’m sure they’ll be fine. I wasn’t into spooky things back then.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but I’m not letting my guard down,” Jon said. He watched as the children walked up a spiral staircase. “Would you have wanted siblings?”

Martin considered this. “I can’t imagine having them? But an older sibling would’ve been nice. Someone to know better and help me with things.”

“I think any other child would’ve found me irritating, older or younger. Best to keep to myself,” Jon said dryly. “Anyway, what was I saying? Oh, yes, you can imagine the additional worry of raising a child who could explore the ocean like it was the woods. It’s not like she could follow me in.”

“I bet… She wasn’t like you, then?”

Turning back to the television, Jon said, “No. She was from my father’s side.”

“Oh.” He couldn’t tell if the question was wrong to ask, so looked back to the show. It was luck of the draw, then, whether someone was born with a selkie skin. Perhaps there was nothing to do with genetics in circumstances like this.

Back on the screen, one of the children had chosen to wander outside into the beginnings of a snowstorm with no thought to the cold. Outside the real world window it had begun to hail, and Martin realized how frigid it had become both outdoors and in.

“Well, at least this story is right for the season,” Martin said, standing up. “I’m gonna grab another blanket.”

With a start, Jon looked at him and held up the one he was under. “Do you want this one? I don’t-”

“N-no, that’s fine!” He walked briskly out of the room, feeling rude and stupid. All Jon had offered was for him to use the damned thing, not share it. And it wouldn’t have fit both of them even if he had meant it that way!

Opening the hall closet, he tried to calm down. He peered at the pile of folded sheets and blankets, lifting each layer to search for one he liked. There was a flannel one somewhere, deceptively warm for how thin it was-

Oh.

Tucked far down into the pile, far back enough so it was hidden if the one above wasn’t lifted, Martin saw something dappled and grey and out of place amongst the linen. Jon had left it to dry completely beforehand, so the surrounding fabric was unwrinkled. Considerate. And in a decent hiding place all things considered. It was a shame Martin had gone and ruined it.

He sighed, grabbing one of the blankets at the top that he’d initially passed on. Once he reached the doorway to the living room, he stopped and stared at Jon who was doing his best to seem unperturbed.

“So, I saw it,” he started, squeezing the blanket in his arms into his chest. “I use that closet a lot, if you want to put it somewhere else.”

Jon winced and stood. As Martin let him pass, he mumbled, “Right. I’ll just-” 

And then Martin was left to sit back on the couch and wait, pausing the tape out of courtesy. 

When the skin had disappeared from the shower that first morning he hadn’t considered anything but Jon hiding it, and there was an awful satisfaction in knowing he was right. He rubbed his arm and stared at the blanket in his lap, still neat and folded. 

After a couple of minutes, Jon returned empty handed and resumed his seat. Pulling his blanket back up, he said, “It’s nothing… personal.”

“I know.” He took a deep breath and pressed play on the old remote, letting the child continue their new solo adventure. “I figured you hid it.”

“I appreciate that you told me.” His voice was stilted and unsure. “That you found it.”

“Sure, whatever helps.” Unfolding the blanket, he pulled it up to his shoulders and leaned on the arm rest. He could feel Jon fidgeting in place, turning the blanket so it faced the right way and making it tuck under him in the right places. Martin kept his eyes ahead.

Finally giving up on any further adjustments, Jon slouched into place. “It does help. I know my caution can come off as distrust, but genuinely I just… I need to keep it hidden. I need to know where it is and to be the only one who does. For now.”

“You… don’t need to justify anything.” Martin sighed and had to fight back a yawn. “It’s your coat.”

A grunt of frustration. “No, you don’t- It’s not a rational thing. I trusted you enough to tell you the truth, and yet I was barely into my first night here before I panicked and stowed it away.” He sat upright and let the blanket fall to his lap, quiet distress written across the lines of his forehead.

Grasping for words, Martin said, “You still haven’t known me that long. It’s not wrong to be careful.”

“That’s not the point,” Jon replied quietly, resting elbows on knees. “It hasn’t been all that long in the grand scheme of things, but a lot has happened. I consider you a friend. And yet I can’t stop feeling like everything is about to go wrong if I’m not careful.”

The hail continued to slam against the window, almost overpowering the sound of the television and the faun describing the witch’s plans. On the far side of the couch, Jon remained hunched over his own knees with his face bent in irritation. 

A wave of shame broke against him, but there wasn’t time to dwell on it. Carefully, Martin scooted over just enough to reach out a hand. His trembling fingers hovered just an inch away, brushing against the fabric of Jon’s shirt before coming to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” Jon whispered, massaging around his eyes with his fingers. He reached his free hand up to tentatively cover Martin’s, giving it a tiny squeeze. “Thank you for understanding.”

“Do you… want to keep watching?”

Jon nodded, shaking himself out a little. Martin released the gentle grip on his shoulder, though he didn’t move away. They both settled into the back of the couch and watched.

The child had gone back inside with the shivers, but no one was to be found. Around the halls she wandered, calling her siblings’ names with indignation that slowly turned to concern and then to fear. Eventually she was running, and it wasn’t until she was on the upper floor that one of her brothers popped out to scare the living daylights out of her. 

Deep down he remembered this part making him cry. Perhaps siblings weren’t worth it with how cruel children could be. 

Martin coughed. “You explored the sea as a kid, then?”

Jumping slightly, Jon said, “O-only a couple of times. And not far from the land. And it’s not as fun when you can only grab one thing at a time, with your mouth. I sorely missed my pockets and picking up sticks.” As he spoke, he resumed the more casual tone from before with modest success. 

“You thought checking out the sea with no real limits was too much of a hassle?”

With a roll of his eyes, Jon said, “It wasn’t entirely that. Eventually my grandmother warned me away from it. Told me about dangerous animals that absolutely weren’t native to the coast where we lived.” 

“Great white sharks?”

“Surrounding our seaside village on every watery side, ready to eat hapless little seal boys who didn’t listen to their nans.”

Martin chuckled, relaxing further into his seat and listening to Jon go on about all the ways his grandmother had tried and failed to reign him in. He could see it, a younger, scrappier version of the man next to him stomping around the woods and climbing fences. 

The instinct wasn’t all that relatable to someone like Martin who’d kept to the front porch on nice days, but it sounded like an adventure. Maybe it meant he was less likely to get eaten by an evil wardrobe out of the two of them. In his position he could only hope that was the case.

They called it for the night when, out of nowhere, a man suddenly appeared at half opacity screen and let out a screeching noise to close out an episode, making Jon laugh in a way that only could’ve been from exhaustion. 

Martin lingered downstairs for a while after they shut the television off. It was Friday, after all. For many reasons they couldn’t go out to a pub, but without the need to get up early he could afford to stay up a little longer and listen to a sleepy Jon talk over the tapping on the window panes.

--

Tim: not next weekend, but the one after i think. finally time to call it on preparation and get down to business, if this is something we can be prepared for

Martin: encouraging

Tim: look its been rough over here, alright? 

Martin: i know, sorry. itll be easier to talk once we’re all in one place 

Tim: yeah

Tim: things are ok over there, then? youre sounding better

Martin: ?

Tim: it was starting to get scary if im honest, how quiet you were

Martin: oh, sorry. things are fine, just didnt have a lot to say

Tim: yeah, i get it. its hard to fill the space. dont be a stranger though. in a few weeks we’ll be there to get you out of this mess

Martin: looking forward to it

Sighing, Martin looked from the private chat to Jon, who was ignoring his breakfast to type away at the laptop. “Sounds like the others are making plans to get here.”

Jon looked up briefly. “Good. It will be… nice to see them.”

“And show them you’re not dead?”

Ignoring this, Jon said, “How is Tim doing?”

He glanced back at his phone. “Worried. About a lot of things, I think.”

“Thinking of how he’s going to break my disappearance to you, no doubt,” he said, taking a sip of his tea. He avoided Martin’s eyes. “That’ll be resolved soon enough.”

Martin poked at the eggs on his plate. “He… lost someone, didn’t he?”

It was only for a moment, but Jon froze in the middle of setting his mug down. He seemed to struggle with an answer.

“It’s fine if you can’t say, but he implied as much,” Martin said gently.

With a frown, Jon shut the laptop. “Sasha knows more than I do, but yes. His brother, a few years ago.”

“Oh. That’s… really sad.” He leaned back in his chair. “He seems like he’d be a good brother.”

“I’m sure he was. He certainly looks out for us.” Jon took a bite of his toast.

“As best as he can,” Martin added sheepishly. 

“Once this is all finished he’s earned a vacation.”

Yes, they’d all given poor Tim their share of heart attacks. Martin had managed to several times in the last month. But at least when the time came Tim would see that both of them were alive and themselves and able to apologize for making his and Sasha’s lives just a bit harder than they needed to be.

Once it was all finished.

[sanstropfremir]

episode 9 baby!!! dear lord that was a lot!!

frankly, i'm still in shock that i full on manifested an opera stage, AND it was a rock opera stage at that! plus i got a jazz stage AND a taemin stage??? if they’re pulling out all my favourites now then what on earth are they gonna do in the finale??? this was a very overwhelming crop of stages, i thought i was going to be prepared, but oh no i was not prepared. i'm just going to get right into it because this one is gonna be long and i have many words. i'll discuss in airing order first, and then put my personal rankings for this round at the end.

btob

costume

changsub, you absolute king. spectacular. stunning. incredible. zoot suit riot playing in my brain on repeat. will i finally get the zoot suit revival of my fucking dreams instead of this current drab ill-fitting suit trend? for those who are wondering why in the fuck changsub is dressed like that and what on earth i’m talking about, the specific cut of suit that he’s wearing is called a zoot suit, which were popular in mexican, black and italian american communities in the 30s and 40s, until they were outlawed by the united states war production board as a fabric rationing method as part of the war effort in 1942. there was a huge amount of mob violence surrrounding the wearing of them (there were actual zoot suit riots) as they were direct counter culture fashion to the predominant drab trends of white americans at the time. i'm actually very impressed they got a proper (modernized) cut of zoot suit instead of just putting him in an oversized one; there are actually specific structural differences. the pegged trouser legs, large should pads, and knee length single breasted jacket are key features, and they were often in much more flashy fabrics than a pinstripe, but they get points for effort. i wish they had put all of them in zoot suits but he’s playing the ‘lead’ actor so i will begrudgingly forgive them.

eunkwang those are the stupidest sleeve garters ive ever seen i love them never take them off. they’re like someone decided to repurpose a suspender in the worst way. excellent. i do love that they’ve got three of them in oxford saddle shoes, another great touch.

love the three piece and the fedora* on peniel. it's also in a relatively close period cut; waistcoasts (vests) were generally cut much higher in the neck pre-war, we only start seeing the neckline slide down in the 60s (i think? i don’t remember when exactly). also love to see a proper sleeve and jacket length, it's good practice to have at least a finger’s width of sleeve cuff visible ahead of the jacket sleeve when hanging at rest. also looks like there’s french cuffs on everyone, which is also great.

minhyuk in his slutty lowneck shirt....thank you. in addition to the zoot suit revival i would also like a revival of those ultra low necklines on mens’ shirts from like 2010-2011. i don’t think those are the same boots from the backdoor stage but those are some beautifully cut boots. i also loved the little details of his crewmember look, especially the chunky watch and the string bracelets; those are super realistic, i know so many crew with them and i had several for many years. and who doesn’t love a visible button fly?

none of any of the other costumes are period in any way shape or form but i’m forgiving it because there’s several layers of meta in this stage, and they explicitly based it on la la land, even though we don’t respect la la land in this house. do i wish they had gone more strictly period with at least the jazz club ‘actors’ a little more? absolutely, but i'm not mad about it.

set

again we’ve got a good delineation of the two different ‘stages,’ there’s the club itself in the smaller stage and the soundstage set in the larger space. you can pretty clearly see all the ‘pieces’ of the set on the soundstage, especially the obvious set painting techniques on false prosc frame and the window facade from that first little scene. also the you can see the castors (wheels) on all the setpieces too, which is another nice little versimilitudinous** (triple word score!) touch, as old hollywood movies were made still using theatre stagecraft techniques.

i love how the visual shorthand for ‘this is a set wink wonk’ is just...leaving a ladder on stage. i see it all the time and it's so funny. it doesn’t always make sense because as soon as there’s actors on set the ladders are the first thing cleared because actors cannot be trusted, but yes there are always ladders, so. also psa ladder safety is no joke, please be careful on ladders.

nice streamline of the mnet deco into the club. i’m consistently surprised at how well the designers have been able to mask it or use it to their advantage, because in the normal kingdom stage lighting it is SO obvious and stylistic that it always sticks out.

i'm going to ignore the fact that they implied changsub and miyeon were drinking wine out of martini glasses.

lighting

no complaints, it does its job. everything is visible and super clear. love that the ‘scene’ changes are made through the lighting, it's a really simple and effective device to change atmosphere. purple/blue/amber are the most flattering colours on human skin and that’s why you see it so commonly in stage lighting. also blue/lavendar is the best way to show nighttime/moonlight.

really nice and subtle projection work, especially with the billboard bit and the blue moon sign in the club. despite being obviously meta/’world breaking’ it’s actually very seamless and fits well into the flow of the stage.

sound

i love love love the big band feel in the intro, combined with the piano lead. very duke ellington, as all things should be.

no complaints. i love big band. i love eunkwang’s voice. i have nothing else to say.

staging

i LOVE this movie within a movie within a performance meta nonsense! it's such a fun concept and it is exactly what i wanted ikon’s first round stage to be! i also love to see btob consistently coming up with concepts that are inventive and fun and allow them to showcase their technical performance skills without the aerobics the younger groups are putting themselves through. it provides a really lovely variety and it just goes to show that you can make impressive, dramatic stages without having to be serious or ‘dark.’

i do wish they had leaned into the band director/lead singer with eunkwang a bit more; this could have been a really excellent place for a tap number a la the nicholas brothers or an homage to cab calloway. i know i know this was meant to be la la land themed but la la land is a cheap and whitewashed version of jazz and look me right in the eyes and tell me this isn’t the greatest tap routine of all time. i know i’ve typed this out somewhere before but la la land is just a conglomeration of old hollywood tropes and so stylistically cheap that this would have such a better visual core if they had actually looked back at the real old hollywood musicals like stormy weather. even singing in the rain and an american in paris have such phenomenal visuals and are really beautiful examples of the scope you can pull off with a limited technical capacity and sticking to these old techniques.

now that i'm thinking about it, oh my GOD i would DIE for a lindy hop routine in kpop PLEASE. i know it would never happen because kpop doesn’t like partner dancing and not a single kpop boy has the chops but oh you think fourth gen has too many acrobatics?

this got off track but i think you see my point.

---

ateez

costume

these are really sharply cut suits. and the detail work on the beading??? so beautiful. i'm disappointed that they gave me a rock opera stage without the true ridiculousness of rock opera costuming, because they could have pushed this a lot farther if they really wanted. a tragic lack of gay little outfits, seonghwa’s lace choker is just not enough! two favourite suits: hongjoong’s and yunho’s.

that being said i do actually really like these. this stage is actually very modern opera with a kpop twist and i'm a little surprised by that? i continue to be impressed by the ateez team who are clearly doing their research.

i'm absolutely not going back through their stages to check all the choreography but i wonder if you can track all the ‘wound’ placements to places they’ve been ‘hit.’ i wouldn’t put it past them to have put that thought in but also i’m not expecting that much either.

who is this white grim reaper bdsm executioner chain arm man. where did he come from. i have no idea and i love it.

why is honjoong blindfolded. it was such a fast beat, if youre gonna blindfold someone give it a little longer and some more obvious narrative weight!

seonghwa does that quickchange, runs across that massive stage to the smaller set, and gets into places in like 45 seconds. it's not the hardest quickchange in the world but still, under a minute is fast for any quickchange, especially when there’s travel time involved. i think the fastest, most complex quickchange i ever did was in university which was a 50s cocktail dress into a flannel and culottes with a shoe, hair, and jewelry change in 35 seconds. and that took three dressers. quickchanges are always impressive. the added bonus of this review being later is that i can specifically reference that you can see him book it the fuck off stage in the full cam!

cute moment with the backup dancers dressed in costumes from the previous stages. i'm assuming this is a time travel reference? i'll get more into my thoughts on this in the staging section. regardless, love to see that iconic seonghwa moment again.

set

this is such a restricted space! they really pared down their dancing space with those staircases and ....arms? honestly i have NO clue what these are supposed to be. the only thing i can maybe think of is flying buttresses??? but why?? i mean, i'm 90% sure theyre just there for drama and i agree but i do still have questions.

there’s a lot of moving parts in this set? the buttresses, and the upstage centre staircase. i don’t think the staircase is totally automated because i spotted some dancers securing it in place, but it’s still a moving part. i do really like that we get that expanding upwards energy, because it's really tough to get functional level movement in this kind of a performance, mostly because of its length and because it moves so quickly. so seeing the downward vertical movement and then the upward movement was actually a really nice visual contrast that made use of how tall those fucking ceilings are, and the fact that they had less horizontal space. in sort of similar way to sf9’s jealousy stage, using long, narrow vertical lines really makes it feel like a castle space. the interiors of castles, especially the really old ones, are a lot smaller than you think they would be.

i’ve actually seen that type of small house/tent/thing several times in various types of performances before, but i think this is the first time i’ve seen it used as a time travel device (other than in the say my name mv). aesthetically it's a bit incongruent but i dont really mind because i'm used to watching rock operas that look a lot weirder than this.

lighting

there is so much happening. i have NO clue what the projections are doing. i dont hate it though, so that’s a plus? there’s a clear-ish colour arc even if it does get a bit funky in the middle, which is why the projections dont feel as insanely distracting as some of the other stages we’ve seen.

the climax is a perfect example of how to light a busy stage with primarily red but still maintain clarity on the performers. a little bit of red goes a long way; the spark stage from last week would have looked so much better if they had done what the ateez designers did here.

sound

i know it's only ode to joy, but answer already gets my motor running and then i get so gassed by the guitars and then by the time those vocals come in i'm inconsolable. i don’t know why i wasn’t expecting a rock opera stage but i'm so glad i got that surprise because i genuinely love rock operas so much. it's two of the most dramatic genres in music, what more could you possibly want?

staging

the choreo for answer is so goofy that I'm kinda glad this was mostly terrible mnet boom shots. i love it, but you can't deny that it's goofy. i spotted a couple of moves from their other choreos as well?

choreographing dance fights is just as difficult as choreographing real fights and i think they did a fairly good job here. i think it was a solid mix of dance and conflict that erred on the side of dramatic rather than accurate and i prefer that over trying to be ‘realistic.’ i’ve only ever seen one truly realistic fight scene on stage and that was for a deeply naturalist play (boring and a waste of the medium), but the best fight scene i’ve ever seen was in the prague national ballet’s adaptation of kafka’s the trial where three ballet dancers beat the absolute snot out of the main character with the most beautiful leg extensions. that whole show was probably one of the best pieces of dance i’ve ever seen, holy fuck it was so good.

despite how insane the music and the visuals were going, i actually really liked how sedate this was, on the part of ateez’s performance. there was a really sophisticated and resigned energy from them that is very different from what we’ve previously seen and i think that was a pretty admirable risk to take. reaching the top and then throwing away the crown? especially in a competition where every other stage has involved stealing crowns or royalty and there’s a group competing that got here through that very concept? that shows a real maturity, peace of mind, and foresight that i did not at all expect from a bunch of 22 year olds.

here we come to a very interesting comparison. both ateez and tbz are very heavily leaning on previously established group lore. we all know my thoughts on why it isn’t working for tbz, but here’s why i think it is working for ateez: it's because it doesn’t matter to the audience’s understanding of the stage. i had absolutely no fucking clue what was going on the first time i watched this, but that didn’t stop me from enjoying the music and all the weird shit they were doing. i totally believed that they understood what was going on. there’s a loose enough established conflict right at the beginning that draws us in, and really it doesn’t matter who they're fighting because they win in the end. the key here is that they’re so earnest. they believe 100% in every move they make on that stage. there’s no winks to camera, there’s not a drop of irony. they really deeply care about the ridiculousness of it all and that’s what makes it work. i sure as fuck dont know what’s going on, but i can see that they do, and i trust that. this is what i meant when i talked about convincing the audience you belong on stage in my stage presence post. i’ve never once believed that juyeon was anything other than an idol. he’s talented and very beautiful and he may occasionally stand on that stage like he owns it but it's always as juyeon. as an idol. but when hongjoong flaps around in that gigantic fur coat i 100% believe he’s a pirate captain. I believe he’s a punk rebel leader. i believe him a resigned king. there’s always a level of irony you have to fight as a performer because we all start from a place of disbelief. acting is not just lying to the audience, it's lying to yourself too. and if you succeed in convincing yourself? well, you’re already halfway to convincing us.

i checked it out because i wanted to see if they did the blindfold how i expected them to and was genuinely surprised by hongjoong’s fancam. the boy is EMOTING even when he knew the camera wasn’t on him; that’s a real dedication to craft.

ok i'm finished talking about this stage, this is over two pages in my document, there’s so many things i have not covered here but that’s fine, i'm quite sure any further thoughts will end up out there at some point.

---

sf9

costume

let’s get it out of the way......crop top. crop top? crop top. crop top.

ok, besides the crop top, i think i might actually like the backup dancer outfits more...? i find mannequin adjacent looks really fascinating and i thought there was a lot more they could have done here in connecting the two thematically. i actually think a change of costume on the boys would have been very interesting, especially because there was a lot of inference and direct reference to changes of colour.

ALL the backup dancers are wearing the same wig and i LOVE that.

special mention zuho’s.....jacket? the right idea but it absolutely should have been one of those extreme french cut bodysuits, you COWARDS. don’t come at me with this ‘male version of venus’ if you don’t have your whole torso out! come on!

set

not sure if this is meant to be a department store, a factory, or a white cube gallery. honestly you could make the case that they’re all the same place anyways. more on this later.

i loved the movator and wish they had used it more! that sequence was so good and they could have done some more interesting repetition sequences to further highlight the ‘sameness’/the breaking of that sameness.

i feel like the set could have been used more as a whole? i would have loved to see some mannequin interactions with those boxes, because all they did was dump colour everywhere.

....why did they feel the need to include the rain bit? i know it's likely because it's in the mv and at the 2018 dream concert taemin does perform move in the rain, but with the standing still and the box walls with the words it just looks like a department store ad. which i...dont think is what they were intending?

lighting

nothing really to say here. it has a similar feel to the mayfly rap stage, which is fine because the lighting for that was good. i could tell what was going on all the time and that’s the most important part. notable standouts are the lips sequence, that's fun use of pop iconography and very effective, and the scanning lasers at the beginning.

the repeating sequence in the edm dance break is actually done pretty simply, it's just what happens when you point a camera that’s livestreaming to a monitor directly at that monitor. it's a very cool effect and it was neat to see it used intentionally, especially with the handheld leds.

actually i also really liked the lightbox tables, those were cool.

sound

the remix was fine for the most part, it was about what i expected it to sound like. i did however greatly dislike that unnecessary edm break in the middle. what was the point of that? it didn’t add anything to the overall sound or arc of the stage because it was SO out of place. there was no connective tissue around it.

oh i was also not a fan of the effect on zuho’s mic. no one else had a discernible vocal effect so it felt a little out of place. also for some reason his cadence and tone right at the end made me think of some of the voices that bo burnam uses for his vocal masque sketches/songs, especially repeat stuff, weirdly? took me right the fuck out of it. i listened to it again after i slept and i’m still getting it, so maybe i’m just going insane so best ignore this part.

staging

loved the mannequin tree, not a clue why it was there.

do actually think this is a successful cover because it does what i was hoping it would, which is take move completely out of the taemin context and put it into an entirely new one. however, i’m really struggling to figure out what exactly that new context is? and what theyre trying to say with it?

obviously they went for a ‘show your own colours/individuality’ vibe, like i said in the set section, where exactly is this supposed to be? from the start i get factory/mechanized environment, which is fine and grand because mannequins and making repetitive motions and products and all that, makes sense. but then there’s stacked shelving type units happening and curtains and that combined with the mannequins give me pretty big department store vibes, which is also fine, because that’s still a comment on commercialization and the mass production of product. but then we get to the movator and the repetitive movements of the dancers say pretty clearly factory, but the lighting and projections are very pop art referential, plus combining that with the white set, just makes me think of an art gallery. so now is this a comment on the commercialization and commidification of contemporary art? are they making a statement about being ‘real’ artists among the others who have lost the critical understanding of why pop art was even a thing in the first place? and then the rain bit at the end literally looks like a department store ad, so are they then making another statement that they still are that packaged product? maybe the episode has more clarity in it but i’m genuinely a bit baffled by what the underlying statement is here.

i suspect it is not as deep as i'm making it, but i did say that i was likely to be hyper critical of this stage AND i am a grad student, so here we are.

---

tbz

costume

ok of all the ‘fourth gen’ style costumes we’ve seen, i actually like these ones more than most. i'm not entirely clear on the theme but i'm assuming it's meant to be post apocalyptic, and i'll take that.

backup dancers in black!!! we’re beyond this!!!

this will be a running theme with this stage, but i’m disappointed these don’t have more depth.

set

compared to every other stage, the set here seems especially plain. there’s so little set dec that it's disappointing. i do like the movement of the pieces themselves combined with the blocking; that first slide underneath the arches was slick and i would have liked to have seen more of that.

yea ok the big snake was cool and also a fairly complex build, but the transitions around it were a bit awkward for my tastes. especially the turn around, why did they even show that at all? you have control over what the audience sees, you can totally not show scenic transitions. skz were super smart about hiding theirs in last week’s episode.

also if you have a bigass puppet like that, i wanna see some more movement from it! it doesn’t have to be complex, we literally just saw a kraken balloon arm wave around aimlessly, but at least there was movement! that snake had a long ass body, why didn’t they at least take a pseudo dragon dance movement with it, that would have been such fun to watch with the iridescent scales. there was a lot of opportunity here!

lighting

i don’t hate it but also.... not a lot to say about it on the whole.

there were two really smart ideas here, the first being the front projection section, which i was SO glad to see! i explained in a previous review, but the projections in kingdom are not actually projections per se, because they’re actually massive led screens. there are two common types of projections in performance, rear projection and front projection. rear projection is when the projector is behind the screen, and front projection is ‘normal’ projection. rear projection can produce a crisper image because you have full control of the light values, because the projector is in a separate room from the performance space. but the downsides are that the projector has to be in a separate room from the performance space. so if you’re short on real estate, it's not ideal. front projection is much more common, because the tech is a lot cheaper and easier to access, especially now, and it requires less real estate because you can ceiling mount about the audience (you can move a projector wherever, this is just the most common spot in commercial theatres). but! in order to get an actually crisp image, you have to be really careful with your light bounce. it’s exactly the same principle as how you kinda can't see a projected screen when you have all the lights turned on, but when you turn them off it's a lot clearer. front projection works best in pitch dark, so when you use it in a theatre you gotta be smart about it. i use front projection a lot in my personal art practice as a singular light source, and that’s what tbz did here in that traveling/snake intro sequence. it’s a really fun technique that they used as a good gimmick because it’s not something we’ve seen before, and you get some great shadow effects because the projector is throwing light directionally at the performers (they have it set up close to the floor, it’s probably on a wheeled cart of some kind). however i did not like the snake intro. a bit too cheesy and out of place, especially because the asset quality didn’t match the rest of landscapes that we have been seeing.

the second smart idea, which is partially also a set and blocking thing but whatever, was that final image of the eclipse within the circle architecture with all the members standing in front of it. it was a great shot and a great ending pose, but it felt like a concept photo. like someone had that image as the idea that they then built the stage around, instead of a narrative first and then imagery after.

sound

this remix had SO much promise! those first two minutes were SO GOOD. i love that dirty discordant strings bit, it's gross and right up my alley. but it really fell off in the back half and i'm sad about that.

staging

i'm sorry tbz but.....what did you actually do differently than exo here? with the exception of the continual game of thrones references? nothing here felt transcendentally different from the original monster. and especially coming RIGHT after sf9’s move, which did go beyond its original context. this feels more like an awards show stage cover than a stage at the level of the others we’ve seen just this episode.

again like with the skz stage, there’s no conflict here. no tension. yes they do a great job covering the dance but it just isn’t enough! this is obviously personal preference and i'm sure lots of people liked the fact that it was uncomplicated, but even just a hint of narrative tension could have pushed this into more engaging territory. and if they didn’t want to do that, i would have loved to see them make up for that with extra visual spectacle. this is the no limits round! ikon is putting a full jungle on stage and these are grey cubes!

i think this is a perfect example of what i talked about at the end of my tbz section in my episode four review; this is a good performance, there are good elements at play and good ideas at their genesis, but the core of the issue is that nothing about this is transformative. all of the ideas here are just exaggerations of the original song. fuck, the snake was even IN the mv! and they didn’t even include the best part which is the lip chains! ive said before and i'll say it again; being a good artist has two steps, the first is understanding the material and its context, and the second is elevating the material from that context and synthesizing something new. tbz are really good at the first step, but terrible at the second.

---

ranking

btob - the cleanest and the most fun of the round. everything i wanted.

sf9 - fun and a good cover, despite being conceptually baffling.

ateez - very extra dramatic nonsense with an unexpected dose of sincerity. and it’s rock opera, of course i love it.

skz - fun, with some good thematic devices but generally lacking in arc. also australian accents, that’s an automatic ding.

tbz - honestly the first two minutes of the remix and the costume are holding this above 6th. it just wasn’t fully formed.

ikon - aesthetically this is a great set design and although i do love the opening and closing moments, everything else scrapes me the wrong way. super personal preference here, i’m not expecting anyone else to agree with me.

i feel like my rankings were probably pretty easy to guess if you’ve been around reading the reviews for long enough. i do have very specific tastes after all. i know sf9 ranked first in the episode but i have no idea what the other slots are. i’ll find out when i watch the episode in a couple of days, but i think yea a first for sf9 is fair. i do think its mostly because it’s a taemin song and you have to do something horrendous in order to fuck up a taemin song, but there is a lot of thought and work that went into that stage.

ok i'm done now, sorry this was later than usual, but i was busier and there were four stages that i had to review. also technical difficulties because tumblr is a garbage platform and nothing works properly. comments/questions/opinions always welcome, i know i didn't expand on a couple of points that i could have so hopefully y'all have some thoughts too!

* the type of hat that ~society~ has told you is a fedora is actually a trilby. what peniel is wearing is a real fedora, i felt the need to correct this unjust hat malignment.

** meaning ‘the appearance of being true or real.’ you do sometimes hear it used by normal people, but it’s more commonly used as a descriptor in film and theatre. it’s also one of the five rules of neoclassical theatre, which are: versimilitude, purity of form, five act structure, decorum, and purpose. the most prominent playwrights from that era are moliere and racine if youre interested in what those look like in an actual text.

[mothdruid]

OKAY I HAVE A GAME.

the two of us are in a dystopian world. earth has been overrun with robots who desperately wish they could be human. abby and allie have been captured by a few members of the “evil” robot army. they bring us to one of their lairs and present us with two options.

#1

We attend a movie night sleepover with the robots.

the conditions:

Abby must tell the robot kidnappers what (in her opinion) the best movie ever made is and watch it with all of us. the robots assure us that they will provide popcorn, candy, and drinks.

Abby cooks us her favorite food so the robots (+abby & allie) can have a nice dinner!

Abby tell us her favorite memory so the robots can learn more about what makes humans happy!

if you complete all these tasks abby and allie will be set free and granted protection from other robots for the next 15 years!

#2

the robots kill us.

the robots make it clear that they won’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

which do you choose!! and if you pick #1 answer the robots question!

what do you think the best movie ever made is/what is your favorite movie? why? and do you think i would like it?

what are your go-to movie theater snacks?

what’s your favorite food? why is it your favorite? are you a good cook?

tell us your favorite memory! or a memory that never fails to make you smile! :] <3

any other plans or activities you would like to add to “abby & allie’s robot sleepover!” ??

are you down to wear matching pajamas and if so what style would you pick. this one is extremely important.

xoxo,

allie🕊

(p.s. i felt so creative coming up with this?? this was so fun whsidhwis <3 i hope you like it!)

obviously i'm gonna pick option one!

1.) what do you think the best movie ever made is/what is your favorite movie? why? and do you think i would like it?

my favorite movie is the Grand Budapest Hotel by Wes Andreson. wes anderson is my favorite movie writer/director. the aesthetic for grand budapest is so captivating and the story is really enjoyable for me. i think you might like it? i actually have a grand budapest hotel tattoo ❤️

2.) what are your go-to movie theater snacks?

popcorn with white cheddar on top 🤭

3.) what’s your favorite food? why is it your favorite? are you a good cook?

my favorite food is a udon noodle stir fry. i'd like to think i'm a good cook 😅

4.)tell us your favorite memory! or a memory that never fails to make you smile! :] <3

a memory that always makes me smile is when i got my anime titty mousepad. it's reiner from aot with his big titties out 🙈

5.) any other plans or activities you would like to add to “abby & allie’s robot sleepover!” ??

playing the card game called 'the mind' 😄

6.) are you down to wear matching pajamas and if so what style would you pick. this one is extremely important.

FUCK YES WE ARE WEARING MATCHING FLANNEL PJS 🥰

come join the sleepover!

[ashintheairlikesnow]

BTHB: Traumatic Touch Aversion

@comfy-whumpee​ requested “Traumatic Touch Aversion” for Antoni and here it is! Antoni’s first meeting with Nat when he came to stay at her safehouse. Also listing @wildfaewhump​ who loves all things Antoni.

CW: Referenced burns/scarring, touch aversion, conditioning, pet whump reference, box boy, self-injury (reopening wound at the end)

They meet in what was supposed to be a brand new subdivision, back before the recession scattered the developers and contractors to the wind and left this grassy cleared patch of ground just outside the city, complete with poured paved little road and a few poured concrete slab foundations, like grave markers for the homes that were never built here, the people who never had the chance to move in.

A reminder of the world where you can do everything right and the whim of a few individuals, who live so far away from you, can create an avalanche that buries your plans. Nat is old hat at that, of course - she’s buried her plans twice now, and built new ones right on top of the old. She was going to work in journalism, and then she was going to be the best marketing director WRU ever had, and then…

And then she walked away.

Bought a house with some of her inheritance from her dad, fixed it up for a few months, and... started over.

She likes this life just fine, because it leads her here, to places like this, to clandestine meetings after dark.

Nat’s truck is parked in a cul-de-sac that loops around empty grass, where they might have built a playground, if the neighborhood had gone up. Or put in a pool. Ahead of her is the SUV of the man she’s meeting, so far out in the sticks that she doesn’t worry about being seen, not here. Not in the evening light, with the sky burning down to night. 

She hops down from the truck, short and strong, her long brown braid smacking in the middle of her back as she goes, in her signature flannel over a t-shirt and jeans. You look like Kurt Cobain’s mom, Jake had told her once, and she’d pointed out that she’d be Kurt Cobain’s little sister, thank you very much, she was in Driver’s Ed when all that happened, and hadn’t that blown his mind for a while. 

She’s smiling, a little, as the breeze picks up. It’s the time of year when the hottest winds blow, licking through her hair and over her skin. Like living in a kiln. Nat feels like she cracks a little more each year in the heat.

Still can’t give up her flannels, though. She’ll be cold in the ground before she wears anything else, ever again. Flannels and sensible sneakers or work boots, and that’s the farmer in her that just refuses to fade away.

Those years wearing suits and heels, she felt like she was playacting, wearing a costume picked out by someone else that didn’t fit. This is who she is, and she can’t be anything else. She wouldn’t be, not ever again, anyway.

“Evening, Nat,” One of the two men she is here to meet calls out, and she raises a hand in greeting. Paul is in his fifties, ten years or so older than Nat herself. He’s been living the lib life for decades, was the one she used to call fifteen times a week with a thousand crises she didn’t know how to solve. 

Now she’s the one the younger safehouse owners call, and it’s kind of funny… in a lot of ways, 42 still feels like 24 felt, only she’s less confused and gives a lot less of a fuck about fitting in or following the expectations set out for what makes a good life.

The other man standing next to him is younger, and doesn’t look up. That’s the one that Nat is really here to see. That’s the rescued runaway pet she’s here, in the end, to try and save.

Nat moves to the older man without hesitation and crushes him tightly to her in a hug, listening to his deep, rumbling laugh. “Paul! How was the drive? Was it good weather all the way?”

“Long,” Paul answers, sardonic as always, patting her back. “Started out rainy, as Washington likes to be up by the coast, and I don’t think I’ve seen an ounce of precipitation since we stayed overnight at the hotel. You’re starting to sound Californian, you know. That Midwestern accent’s slipping away.”

“After twenty years, you’d think it’d be gone.” She laughs, unbothered. “You’re grayer than last time, too.”

“Look, at my age, you’re just happy the hair is there at all, Nat. Where’s Jake? He didn’t want to ride along this time?”

“Hm? Home with the others. He’s talking about going back to college, and so he needs to study, and then we’ve got this new rescue who’s still healing up from some serious injuries he underwent, so Jake doesn’t want to leave... and I don’t blame him. Our newest rescue’s a flight risk in a big way. He wanted to send his greetings, though.”

“Well, tell him I said hi in return.”

“Will do. I was surprised to hear from you, I didn’t think you did out of state drives anymore.” 

Paul clears his throat. “I don’t. But we’ve got a situation, and we had a donor step in and pay for the gas and hotel money.”

Nat nods, her smile fading and moving back to seriousness, as she looks around Paul at the second man, just younger, standing hunched against the side of the SUV, clutching a single small backpack that hangs off one shoulder. “This is the situation?”

“Yeah.” Paul sighs, rubbing at his face with one hand. “This boy popped up at my door a couple of weeks ago, half-starved and pretty clearly abused, and he’s being strenuously hunted. We’ve had three close calls in a week. I had to make a choice, and… you know, I trust you to keep him safe, and I had to get him out of state, as far as I could go. I hate to uproot him when he hadn’t even settled yet, but…”

“Yeah, no, yeah, I get it. I just had a bed open up, Trevor moved in with some roommates in Nevada, did I tell you? All of them former rescues, too, so he’s got good support right there. There’s a coffeeshop owned by someone whose daughter is in the movement who agreed to train him as a barista.”

“Good, good. Trevor’s a good kid, I liked him. This one…” Paul takes a deep breath. “He’s sweet, Nat. But... he’s scared.”

“They all come to us scared,” Nat says, unbothered, giving a shrug and putting her hands in her pockets. “Any memories?”

“Nope. He’s blank, still. I haven’t… he hasn’t even been with us long enough for therapy. But, here, let me introduce you.” Paul steps back, and the young man with the backpack steps forward. He’s wearing the rescue uniform, more or less - sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt, nearly every ounce of skin covered, only his neck and face visible, the backs of his hands. “He named himself a couple of days ago. This is Antoni.”

He’s like them all, in his way - nervous and wide-eyed, young and beautiful, afraid of her and drawn to her. She can see the signs without even having to consciously notice them - the mop of dark hair in bad need of a good cut, the fear in his eyes, the way he’s skin and bones even underneath the baggy clothes designed to hide a body that didn’t belong to him for too long. 

“Hello, m-ma’am,” The boy says, quietly, his dark, slightly feline eyes flickering from her to Paul, seeking reassurance or praise for making the right choice. 

Nat’s head cocks to the side, and she notes the way the boy flinches a little at the quick movement. He’s a skittish one - that usually means violence was a part of his daily life, and he’ll need to learn how to live without fearing it. “Does he have…”

“An accent? Yeah. Eastern European or Russian or something. Says he only speaks English, but... sometimes he speaks something else. He doesn’t seem to notice when he does it.” Paul turns, and holds out his hand, gesturing the young man forwards. 

Nat watches the boy give a wide berth to Paul’s hand, the way his long fingers clutch more tightly at the backpack strap on one side and the hem of his shirt. He turns to look towards the entrance of the subdivision that never was, watching for cars who might have tracked them, and Nat’s eyes widen - and then she forces her expression back to neutral before the boy can notice - as she sees the bright red, still-healing circular burn on the side of the boy’s neck. “Paul, are we dealing with-”

“Don’t know.” Paul sighs. “Hasn’t even been safe long enough to get a doctor out to give him a checkup. We’ve kept him moving from house to house to house without even taking a deep breath, so… he could use a rest.”

There are deep, deep shadows under the young man’s eyes, settling above his starkly carved cheekbones, and she… she can’t argue with Paul’s assessment. This is a boy who needs a week of sleep, a month of safety, to even begin rebuilding. “Fair enough. You go on ahead, we’ll give it ten or fifteen and then head out.”

“Perfect. I’ll give you a call in a couple days, see how he’s settling in. That sound all right?”

“Works for me.” Natalie watches the new rescue - Antoni - as Paul climbs back into his SUV, turns the key in the ignition, the engine rumbling to nearly-silent life. Antoni doesn’t look back at him like some rescues do, desperate for a final glance. He only steps away, to give the vehicle more space, as Paul gives them one last wave and drives away.

The boy’s expression is unreadable, as Paul’s SUV turns left out of the subdivision, and he disappears into the growing night. She can’t tell if he cares, and she can’t tell if he doesn’t care. There’s nothing in his eyes at all but that same darkness.

Nat sighs. Well, they’ll figure it out as they go, or they won’t. “Okay, Antoni, my name is Natalie Yoder. I’m house mom for a safehouse you’ll be staying in from here on out.”

The boy looks back at her, and his dark eyes are fathomless and deep. “Okay, Natalie Yoder,” He says, and yes, that’s definitely an accent that softens his vowels, changes the consonants a little. She can’t quite name the accent, but… he definitely has one. 

“Call me Nat. I live down in the city-” She gestures behind her, vaguely. “And I’ve got a house there with some others like you, all right? We can keep you safe here. You did the first big thing, you walked away. Now it’s up to us to help you with the rest.” She holds out her hand, and - just as she thought - the young man jerks violently backwards, nearly tripping on himself, his shoulders hunched defensively nearly up to his chin.

Nat lets her hand drop.

“I, I do not… touch,” The young man says, clinging to his backpack strap. Nat lets her hand drop, watching the fear tightening his features, setting his jaw to trembling, flashing a hint of his teeth. “Please, please, I do not-... I do not touch.”

Nat puts both hands up in an I’m innocent gesture, taking one step back and then another, giving him some space to get around her. “That’s okay. You don’t have to, not with me and not at the house, not at all.”

The boy stares at her, and the sun is setting rapidly this far up in the hills, taking the hint of golden light that falls across his face and dimming it. “Please,” He whispers, and the sound barely carries to her. “Please, I, I cannot-... please-”

“That’s just fine,” Nat says, pitching her own voice lower, soothing. “You’re still fine, Antoni.” When he doesn’t relax, Nat swallows against her own reflexive distaste and adds, “You’re still a good boy.”

There it is. His shoulders relax, and he lets out a breath, an audible exhale, stepping a little closer to her. “I am? If I do not touch, still?”

Nat presses her lips together, wondering if Paul’s report that this new rescue was a Domestic holds water at all. Not that designations mean shit to people with no empathy and total control over another human being… “Yes, Antoni. You’re still good. Let’s get in the truck and head back, yeah? Can you get in the truck for me? I’ll stay right here.”

Simple, easy directions, and a safe distance. Antoni moves around her to the passenger side of the truck, and she gives him the time he needs, pulling her phone out from her back pocket to text Jake that the new rescue is here, and she’ll be heading home with him shortly.

Cool ok, comes Jake’s fast reply. Kauri’s a mess. Fever’s up and he took all his clothes off and got in bed.

Please don’t tell me your bed.

What do you think? He’s back on the couch and dressed though. I gave him something for the fever. Call Masood in the morning? This shit isn’t strong enough.

Nat knows how that feels.

By the time she gets into the driver’s seat, Antoni has himself settled, seatbelt buckled, hands in his lap, and… his backpack is firmly stuck between the two of them, right in the center of the seat, a slight barrier but a barrier nonetheless. 

He’s only been out for two weeks. He probably has some toiletries and a change of clothes or two in there, and that’s it. Maybe a book if he was allowed to remember how to read. But any way of giving himself space is better than no space at all.

When she reaches down to shift gears, Antoni flinches away, pressing himself to the inside of the door, his dark eyes locked on her hand.

“It’s a stick shift,” Nat says, softly. “I’m going to do this a lot. I’m not trying to touch you.”

His eyes move, reluctantly, from her hand to her face. “Please,” He says, and his voice is soft, and perfectly pitched. He’s been trained to beg, Nat thinks - she’s seen that before. She’s heard this voice before. “Please, please do not touch me. I will be good, whatever you need, just… do not touch.”

Nat takes a deep breath and rests her foot on the gas, cautiously moving out of the cul-de-sac and back onto the road, leaving the subdivision that never was, with its overgrown grass and brambles and the hot autumn winds blowing hard enough to rattle the dried-out leaves in the trees, behind. 

One new rescue, still sick from an infected wound, who can’t stop trying to touch everything that moves and has tried to talk Jake into bed at least three times - and one new rescue with an unmistakable cigarette burn on his neck who is so scared of being touched he starts begging before Nat can even get him home.

“This should be fun,” She mutters, not aware she’s even spoken aloud.

I am sorry. Antoni mouths the words, but Nat isn’t looking at him, and she doesn’t see him do it. As they drive down the hills towards the city, with its twinkling lights, he watches out the window, looking he hopes towards the north, wondering if he can ever apologize enough to earn forgiveness for the choice he made to leave the woman behind and run.

His right hand moves, pressing into his left arm, rubbing his thumb again and again over a certain spot just inside his wrist, rubbing right through the ribbed knit of the cuff of his sleeve, pressing and pressing and pressing until he feels the healing burn break open again, the bright flash of pain.

He relaxes a little, eyes closing, leaning heavily against the door as Nat turns on the radio and grumbles about what counts as classic rock now. 

It’s not that the ashtray, who has chosen the name Antoni, hates being touched.

It’s that he doesn’t deserve touch that doesn’t hurt.

---

Tagging @astrobly​, @finder-of-rings​, @burtlederp​ @slaintetowhump​ @moose-teeth​ @dhiabori @oofowouchies @doveotions​

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Won’t You Stay (Part 3)

Summary: Jensen is injured on set which leads to pushing back one of the biggest stunts of the movie. Later on that night, Jensen walks the reader to her car where a few sparks start to fly...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x Director!reader

Word Count: 4,200ish

Warnings: language, minor injury

A/N: Please enjoy!

______

“Jensen! Run it back again!” you called the next morning. He jogged back to his first mark, spinning around and taking a deep breath. He’d taken a hard fall a few takes before on a stray branch and had been slow to get up. You knew something was bothering him but he didn’t say anything so you decided to keep going. “Action!”

Jensen ran through the woods and paused right at the camera, panting a few times before he looked around nervously.

“Cut! Good, very good, Jensen. Just what we need,” you said. “Moving on to 12!”

“Uh, after lunch,” whispered AJ.

“Let’s break for lunch and then get going on the big scene for the day,” you said. You let out a sigh, leaning over to your AD. “Thank you. I thought we were running late again.”

“We’re ahead of schedule. Everyone here gets their union breaks so don’t worry, someone will let you know if we’ve gone too long. Don’t stress so much,” he said with a smile.

“We have one of the biggest stunts of the film today. I am more than a little stressed,” you said. You hopped out of your chair and walked to the lunch line, making sure everyone went through before you went to get yours. You didn’t catch Jensen though and headed to his trailer when you didn’t see him around. “Jensen? Are you in there?”

“Yeah,” you heard from the other side of the door. “What do you need?”

“You get some lunch yet?” you asked.

“I’ll grab it in a minute,” he said.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You were moving a little slow those last few takes.”

“Yeah, fine,” he said. You leaned against the door, staring at the name plate panel on the outside.

“You’re doing a hell of a job of convincing me, Jensen,” you said. 

“Y/N, I’m fine, really,” he said as a small whine came out of him.

You rolled your eyes and opened the door, stepping up and spotting Jensen in his kitchenette without a shirt on.

“For fucks sakes, Y/N. What if I was naked?” he asked, putting his arms around himself. Your gaze went to his ribs, a dark purple spot there he tried to cover up.

“Hey, you are not okay,” you said. He sighed and put down the roll of bandages in his hand on the counter. “Did you get hurt this morning? I saw you fall in the woods. You should have said something.”

“It’s a bruise,” he said. You sighed and stepped over, Jensen closing his eyes. “We have a big stunt this afternoon and as long as I wrap it up-“

“I am cancelling the stunt. We’ll push it back,” you said.

“Y/N-“

“My actors are more important to me than schedules or budgets. You get injured, on or off set, you tell me, no matter what,” you said. “Understand?”

“Okay but-“

“My dad, action hero, supernatural horror, romantic leading man, devilish boy with the soft core, has a very important rule when it comes to acting,” you said.

“What’s that?” he asked, taking a deep breath and wincing.

“It doesn’t matter if it’s your dream role. It doesn’t matter if it’s a story you love. If you’re not respected and treated with kindness on the project, you walk away. If it’s not a safe environment, you walk away. It’s a good rule to have, Jensen,” you said.

“What are you saying?” he asked.

“I’m saying that I will go tell the studio that we need to push back scene 12. We can do it when you’re healthy. Until then, no stunts for you,” you said.

“I don’t want to cause any trouble,” he said.

“Jensen. It’s no trouble at all. Honestly. It’s my job. Now put on your shirt and let's go to medical, get you fixed up and then have some lunch, okay?” you said. He nodded, pausing as he pulled his flannel on. “Need help?”

“I like your dad’s rule,” he said. “I think I’ll be okay on this project though.”

“You will be,” you said. He started to button up his shirt and you turned away to give him his privacy.

“It’s okay, Y/N. It’s not like I don’t have to get down to my undies for this thing at some point,” he said. “I’m so looking forward to that day on set.”

“Well the ladies have a thing for Lyle. But this is your personal space. I’m sorry I came into it without permission. I thought you were hurt. I won’t do it again,” you said. “I promise.”

“It’s okay. You were concerned,” he said, finishing with the buttons. “I’ll just remember to change in my bedroom from now on.”

“Good call. Ready to go get your check up?” you asked.

“Alright,” he said. “Lead the way, boss.”

“I thought I said not to-”

“I’m teasing,” he said, bopping your nose. “Boss.”

“Keep it up, Ackles,” you said, grabbing his arm. “Let’s go get you feeling better.”

“I’m really not that bad,” he said as you walked out of his trailer. 

“You don’t want to mess with bruised ribs if you can help it. At least the nurse will be able to get you wrapped up all secure and she probably has some good pain meds,” you said.

“I mean, I can go on my own. I’m not five. You gotta be starving. Go get your lunch, Y/N.”

“Ackles. Anyone ever tell you you’re grumpy when you’re not feeling well?”

“Actually yes,” he chuckled. “My parents would fully agree with you.”

“I had a feeling,” you said. He was a little slow as he walked but you didn’t push him to go faster. “Jensen. If you do get hurt again, please say something. Even outside of work.”

“I will. This kinda sucks,” he said. “Not that I’m a whimp or anything. But it does hurt.”

“What hurts?” asked your dad, popping out of the bathrooms nearby and jogging down the steps.

“Jensen has a nasty bruise from a fall this morning. I just want him to get checked out in case,” you said. “We’re going to push back scene 12 in the meantime.”

“Hm. Any idea what we’ll do instead?” asked your dad.

“Something easy going. I have to see what sets we have available,” you said.

“What about when Hale and Lyle sit and talk that night? You could probably do that without too much hassle in the studio,” said Jensen.

“He does have a point,” you said. “Scenes twenty eight and nine and thirty three? You guys think you could study those while I get it organized?” you asked.

“Yeah. I think that’ll be good. Oh and Jensen. Put some aspercreme on that bruise tonight before bed, ice for ten minutes and then wrap it. It’ll help. I’ve taken my fair share of hits,” said your dad.

“Thanks Ethan,” said Jensen as you went over towards the medical area with him. You got on your radio and told Mark and AJ the new plan while Jensen was checked out by the nurse. You knew you’d be getting a nasty phone call probably within the hour but you tried not to think of that when Jensen came outside and gave you a thumbs up.

“Doing okay?” you asked.

“Not broken. Just bruised the muscle. Got some medicine and a better fitting wrap to use. I feel better already,” he said. “But I was advised to take it easy for the next week.”

“Awesome. I’m glad it’s not too bad. We’ll make sure that we rework the schedule to do some easy-going scenes for you this week,” you said. Jensen walked with you back towards the lunch tent, most people either done or wrapping up with their food. You got a wrap and salad, sitting down with Jensen at a free table. You wolfed down your food, Jensen chewing slowly. He stared at you and you ate more slowly, Jensen chuckling quietly.

“I like a girl that’s not afraid to eat,” he said. “Go for it.”

“I don’t know why I’m rushing anyways. Everyone needs time to prepare for the new scenes,” you said. “You probably have an hour or two to learn your lines.”

“Oh don’t worry about that,” he said. You took a bite and tried to enjoy your meal, Jensen looking like he was in less pain than earlier. “So how do you become a director?”

“Hate yourself and the idea of ever sleeping again,” you said, smiling to yourself, Jensen returning it. “Well the truth is I grew up on film sets. I know a lot of stuff that most people don’t get to learn until they’re older. I started working when I was fourteen on set actually. Only a few hours a week after school or on the weekend but I learned a lot about camera work, pacing, lighting, basically everything. By the time I was done with college, I was interning in the production office and when I was working on my deal for the movie a few years later, I was confident enough that I knew all of the ins and outs to pull it off.”

“Wow. You were in training your whole life for this, huh,” he said.

“Sorta. I actually had a pretty average desk job for two years after college. I was writing in my spare time but I didn’t do any of this kind of stuff then. I missed working on something like this. Once the book was published, I knew I was going to write for a career and get back in the business if I could,” you said. 

“I’m glad you came back to it. I like working here,” he said, showing off a soft smile and bright green eyes. “The set I mean. It’s better than pretty much every project I’ve ever worked on.”

“It’s only day three. I have plenty of time to mess this up,” you said. You let out a dry laugh, Jensen cocking his head, giving you a friendly 

“Maybe that’s true but you have to have some serious talent to be put in charge. I wouldn’t write that off for nothing if I were you,” he said. You nodded and finished up with your wrap, diving into your salad as you noticed a piece of his hair flop down over his forehead. 

“You even got Lyle’s hair,” you said, pointing towards it. Jensen cocked his head and ran his hand over his forehead and up, the piece sticking back up. “Fixed it.”

“Thanks,” he said, wetting his thumb and running it over the spot.

“I caught a bit of your reel from when you were on Supernatural,” you said. Jensen paused but continued eating. “You do realize it was a good show. It wasn’t cancelled for bad acting.”

“I wish we could have gone a little longer is all. I really liked that story,” he said.

“Maybe someday Netflix could pick it up or something. You never know,” you said.

“Maybe. Right now though Lyle has my full attention,” he said. He took his last forkful of lunch and swallowed. “I better go learn my lines.”

“You got some time. Don’t rush,” you said. He hummed and stood up, turning to leave.

“Hey, Y/N,” he said over his shoulder. “Thanks for writing the book.”

“Thank you for reading it,” you said softly.

“You got this,” he said before he took off back towards his trailer. You smiled to yourself and tried to believe what he said. 

Then your phone had to ring and you saw your boss calling.

“I’m sure this is going to go well.”

“Hey,” said your dad as you stretched from your chair at the end of the day. “I heard that studio exec said more than a few not nice things today.”

“Yup,” you said as you grabbed your bag. “Kinda made that time I cried after failing Calculus seem like not such a big deal.”

“You were such a good student. Your first semester of college was a hard change. Also your professor was a dick,” he said.

“Yeah, well nothing compared to being told off by my boss,” you said.

“I called Bryerson,” he said. You whipped your head around.

“Dad. I told you not to do me any favors on this whole deal,” you said.

“It wasn’t a favor. I heard what happened, just like everyone else. I called all of our bosses to let him know that you prioritized safety over a stunt. It won’t even cost that much to push filming back. You want to know what he said? That was the right call. You just made a friend up top today, kiddo,” he said.

“...Don’t call Bryerson for me again,” you said as you turned away. “Thank you.”

“Get some sleep at home tonight, Y/N,” he said. 

“I will. Give Anthony a noogie for me,” you said.

“What’s Ella getting?” he asked with a smirk.

“Also noogie. I’m an equal opportunist older sibling torturer,” you said, laughing to yourself.

“You can always move back home, kiddo. We miss you,” he said.

“I’m twenty seven dad. I stayed long enough. I need my own space,” you said. “But I’ll try to be better about coming home more.”

“I know. Still getting used to it is all. So go home, try to relax and remember you did a good thing today,” he said. “Want a ride home?”

“No. I have a quick meeting but then I’ll get out of here, promise,” I said. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon.”

“Yes you will. Night, sweetie,” he said. You got a quick hug before he headed for his trailer and you went to the production office to go over your new filming schedule.

An hour later you trudged out of the office with a yawn. You slipped on your jacket and backpack, hitting a few lights in the quiet building before you walked out the front door. You hummed and headed across the studio lot for the parking lot, whistling as you went.

You were about halfway there when you heard a noise come from the trailers. You paused and looked over at the little maze of them, poking your head down a dark row.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Do you always talk-“

“Fuck!” you shouted, spinning around, Jensen wincing in your face behind you. “I’m sorry.”

“I probably deserved that,” he said. “Sorry for scaring you. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.”

“I thought I heard something,” you said.

“It’s probably the generator. It kicks on sometimes,” he said.

“What are you still doing here? We wrapped an hour ago,” you said.

“I was watching dailies and had to sign some worker’s injury report thing at medical,” he said. “You?”

“Got bitched at again for pushing the stunt back,” you said.

“Y/N-“

“Jensen. I will take the bitching. I’m happy with my decision today,” you said. “Don’t worry about it. How’d the dailies look?”

“Cool,” he said. You giggled and he laughed. “Sorry. I know that’s not the technical term.”

“No. Cool is what I’m hoping for,” you said. “You like the camera stuff?”

“My dad’s an actor too actually. I grew up hearing about the whole industry. I’ve always been interested in the process,” he said.

“Ah. Another Hollywood baby,” you said.

“Nothing like you. I grew up in a house in the suburbs, nothing fancy or anything. I came here like once before I tried out acting. I had a very boring stereotypical childhood,” he said.

“I would have liked that,” you said. “We moved a lot growing up. It wasn’t until my dad got married that I went to the same school and stuff.”

“Yeah but your dad is Ethan Y/L/N. That’s pretty awesome,” he said, smiling wide. “It’s got to be fun working with him.”

“It is. It’s nice to see more of him. I moved out two years ago. I don’t make it home much lately,” you said.

“Any reason why?” he asked.

You shrugged, Jensen nodding. 

“I moved in with my boyfriend,” you said.

“Oh.”

“He’s not in the picture anymore, hasn’t been for about a year,” you said.

“Oh,” he said. “Yeah, I’m kinda between girlfriends myself.”

“Wow,” you laughed. Jensen chuckled, shaking his head. “No, I like that. It’s funny.”

“Sorry. Last girlfriend sort of slipped some personal stuff about me in an interview. I wasn’t a fan. It kinda turned me off from dating to be honest,” he said.

“She give out your address or something?”

“Talked about our sex life to MTV,” he said. 

“Oh. Wow. That’s just bad,” you said. 

“Yup. I don’t care if she thought she was giving me a compliment. That’s too personal to share,” he said.

“I don’t blame you,” you said.

“Being single has its perks though, right?” he asked. “We can stay up how late we want, no one to crowd the bathroom. No one eats your leftovers on you. It’s not the worst thing in the world, that’s for sure.”

“Oh yeah,” you said. You had to admit there were some upsides but having someone to come home to wouldn’t be half bad either. You gave him a smile, Jensen turning towards the parking lot a ways off. “I uh, should get home. We have an early day tomorrow.”

“I thought we didn’t have filming until two?” he asked.

“You don’t. I’ve got an assload of prep work to do before filming starts,” you said. He nodded and looked at you, the night air quiet. He moved a little closer and you saw his eyes dip down to your lips for a brief moment.

“I’m sure you do but you should probably sleep in,” he said, cupping your cheek. You stared at him, his hand quickly pulling away. “Uh, bags under the eyes.”

“You sure know how to make a sleep deprived girl feel pretty,” you laughed. He chuckled but it was forced and you saw him make a face at himself.

“Sorry. I uh, still get nervous around you,” he said.

“I wrote a book. Ain’t no reason to be nervous with me, Jensen,” you said, giving him a smile. “We should both probably head home though and get some sleep.”

“Agreed,” he said. You started to walk towards the lot, Jensen walking the other way for a second. “Sorry. Forgot I parked in the far lot.”

“I thought the actors had their own lot right around the corner?” you said. He stared at you, looking past with a tired smile.

“Just let me walk you to your car. It’s the least I can do after scaring you,” he said.

“I’m a big girl, Jensen,” you said.

“I know that. But let me walk you,” he said.

“Is this a you’re a gentleman thing?” you asked.

“This is me asking my friend if I can walk her to her car late at night so that I feel a little better knowing she got there safe,” he said.

“Alright,” you said, Jensen staying by your side as you walked in the quiet night air. “Thank you.”

“I’m not perfect but my parents did a few things right,” he said.

“My dad would appreciate that,” you said. “Mom too but dad’s always been a tad protective.”

“I never realized that the Y/L/N that wrote The Dark Woods was related to Ethan Y/L/N,” he said.

“You a fanboy of all the Y/L/N’s or just me?” you teased, getting closer when you heard shuffling on the other side of the lot fence.

“Well every boy growing up the past two decades thought he was awesome,” he said, moving to your other side. “I liked your book a lot though.”

“Why?” you asked. “I get that Lyle is kind of a dreamboat and like, the ideal guy but why do you like it? Give me the guy’s perspective.”

“Because Lyle could have been a bad guy and he turned out to be good,” he said. “Hale really treated him well.”

“Hale did kind of kidnap Lyle just a smidge,” you said with a laugh.

“Because he thought Lyle killed his son,” he said. “Then he ends up taking Lyle under his wing.”

“You know, I almost had Hale be evil,” you said.

“Why? Their relationship is even more important than Lyle and Molly’s,” said Jensen. “Nothing against Molly, I love her too but Hale and Lyle is so interesting to read about.”

“It was a rough time and I took it out on my characters,” you said. “It was wrong though, to do that to Lyle. Sorry. I know he’s not real.”

“You created him. He’s real, Y/N. He’s a good role model, for men and women,” he said. 

“So you like his relationship with Hale the best?” you asked.

“Lyle was alone and Hale was kind to him after he realized Lyle didn’t hurt his son. Hale became a good dad to him,” said Jensen. 

“Hale’s based on my dad a bit you know,” you said. 

“Your dad is a vigilante?” teased Jensen.

“No. No. But you know, he was a single dad to his son and then to Lyle. I know what that’s like,” you said.

“I’m glad you didn’t make Hale evil,” said Jensen. “It would have crushed Lyle.”

“You really know that character, don’t you,” you said.

“He’s not a stereotypical guy. He’s not any one thing but at the end of the day, he’s good. I don’t know, it’s just...he’s more like how guys actually are, you know?” he said.

“Not in my experience,” you said. “Guys fucking suck. Except you. You’re sweet.”

“Well, you’ve also never dated me so it’s entirely possible I do indeed suck,” he chuckled. 

“Jensen,” you said as you spotted your car and started to slow. “I um…”

“I know. Fanboy has to learn when to keep his mouth shut,” he said. “I’ll see you at work tomorrow?”

“Hey,” you said, grabbing his wrist before he could head back for the other lot. “I think it’s cool you like this story so much. No one besides my family ever encouraged me to write or thought I was any good until I got published. I think Lyle’s really lucky he ended up with having you play him.”

“I’ll try to do him justice,” said Jensen.

“Jensen,” you said again. “Saturday night. I...I don’t think us seeing each other outside of work is such a good idea after all.”

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” he said as he turned away.

“I’m just crazy busy and I’m not ready for a relationship, Jensen. Maybe neither of us are. After filming is done we could-”

“It’s okay. I get it. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. You sighed and stared at him, waiting for him to go. “Get in your car.”

“Why?”

“So I know you got in your car okay,” he groaned. “Just do it.”

“Guys don’t do that sort of shit outside of movies and books,” you said.

“Yes they do,” he said with a small smile. “You obviously haven’t met too many great guys then.”

“Thank you for walking me to my car,” you said as you put your hand on the door. He didn’t say anything and you rolled your eyes, sliding inside before you were turning the keys and heading home.

______

A/N: Read Part 4 here!

[leapyearkisses]

Director’s Cut Commentary - Orbs Are Bad News Part 2

Second part of me blathering my thoughts all over this old story per the request of a very nice anon! I am still sleep-deprived, so yay~ Sorry, this commentary is probably way less interesting, since this part is just the sexy stuff, but if you have any particular questions, please send me another ask!

Happy to do any of my stories or just answer asks, whatever. I clearly enjoy reading myself talk XD

Comments in bold below the cut! This part is NSFW. Well, it’s all kinky but there’s also sex.

I forgot to mention this in Part 1, but the title of this story is because the homebrew campaign I ran for my friends involved magical evil crystal orbs. Hence they are bad news.

"Are you ever going to stop sneezing?" Remembrance asked.  At the same time, Cordes said, "One thousand blessings, Llewellyn, one for each."  The two of them were several yards ahead on the road, and only Cordes was looking back over his shoulder.  Right now, the four party members were the only travelers on this particular stretch, although as they got closer to civilization, they'd started to pass the odd wanderer, farmers with wagons, even a merchant or two.  The woods here were broken up periodically by stretches of arable land, clear-cut several decades ago and now waving with wheat, flax, or various vegetable leaves.  The fields were golden in the late sun.  Their shadows stretched behind them like taffy, rippling on the cobblestones.  The day was vanishing quickly, and Gerrit could sense his companions' impatience to move on even as he stopped again himself, drawing out his handkerchief in a now very familiar motion.

 Stick your people in a world. That’s my advice. Don’t have them just floating around in a no man’s land of generic scenery. (Also why I like period/historical snzarios and fantasy stuff, because reading about plain people in an apartment somewhere is boring to me.)

Llewellyn, for his part, could not answer them, face buried in his elbow as he ducked with another reluctant outburst. "Hahktschiu!  Hahh- happtsch!"

"Bless," said Gerrit, and he stepped in front of the elf to shield him marginally from view.  He laid one warm hand on the back of Llewellyn's neck and lifted the handkerchief with the other, capturing the next sneeze in the flannel folds.  He settled his fingers firmly around Llewellyn's nose.

This was an arrangement that had been born out of necessity three days ago when the party had raided a bandit camp's plundered stores.  Along with a good stash of gold and gems, they'd found a blue crystal orb, cursed perhaps, that had summarily become attached to both of Llewellyn's hands, rendering the sorcerer unable to do most anything... including take care of his cold on his own.

 On the last episode of Orbs Are Bad News...

Llewellyn blew his nose into the handkerchief, wetting the cloth and dampening Gerrit's fingers through it.  Originally quite opposed to such a display outside of the most private circumstances, the elf had been forced to put his pride aside and let Gerrit help him.  His fever had abated the previous day, but the frequency of his sneezing had increased, as if his body was insistent now on ridding itself of whatever illness remained.  It was a horrific prospect to Llewellyn to catch the resulting mess every time in the sleeve of his robes... so he suffered Gerrit to hold the handkerchief, even though they were walking along the road where any might see them.

Despite some initial teasing, Remembrance and Cordes had quickly grown accustomed to the practice and now cared not at all, except to complain.  "We're going to have to camp again," grumbled Remembrance.  "Five miles from Veigh and we're going to be stuck without a bath!"

 Is five miles a realistic figure here? No fucking clue! I frequently engage in excessive and specific research for my stories, but I didn’t look up how long one might hike for in D&D. Oh well.

"Is there anything I could do for you?" Cordes asked, somewhat exasperated.  The priest had made several herbal concoctions for Llewellyn over the past few days, but none had helped the elf's nose much.  Cordes's specialty was unfortunately not the curing of disease but the mending of bones and flesh.

 I will take any opportunity to make up an excuse as to why the snz cannot be contained. You’re welcome lol

"Ndo," Llewellyn growled, as fed up as the rest of them.  "I'm beyond heh- help. Hngtschiu!"

"Bless you, arimelda," said Gerrit, trying to keep his voice even.  He shifted the handkerchief so that Llewellyn could have a drier spot, trying to ignore a glimpse of slickness on the elf's face.  "Remembrance, Cordes, why don't the two of you go on ahead?  Find an inn, get a room, take a bath, whatever you want.  It might be prudent also to send a message ahead to the Mages Guild about the orb.  Will you do that?  Llewellyn and I will join you when we arrive."

 An elvish word appears! I researched this but not walking.

Cordes nodded.  "Yes, I'll draft a letter as soon as- Hey!"  Remembrance had grabbed his arm and was rushing ahead already.

"Let's go, man!" she said.  "Everyone loves a damn priest; you're my ticket to a good room, so may your god help you if you dawdle."  Her pointed tail swished as she practically jogged down the road.  Cordes spluttered but could no more stand up to her as to a tornado, so off they went.  It was a remarkably short time before the two of them were out of earshot, disappearing around a bend.

 And again, removed so that the main characters can bang, lol.

Gerrit sighed but turned his attention back to Llewellyn, who was blowing his nose again.  The handkerchief was running out of clean corners this late in the day, but the elf leaned back this time when he was finished.  "All set?" Gerrit asked.

"Yes."  Llewellyn rubbed his eyes on his upper arm, wiping away a spare tear from the effort.  "...My apologies."  He cleared his throat, refusing to meet Gerrit's gaze.  "We may arrive after dark."

"You're ill," said Gerrit, trying to fold the flannel in a way as to avoid his pocket getting wet.  "We'd move faster if you let me carry y-"

"No."

"Then I don't mind taking a more leisurely pace."  Gerrit smiled.  Even after everything, Llewellyn was stubborn.  Honestly, since they weren't really in a rush, he didn't really care when they reached Veigh; they'd only detoured here to try and remove the orb.  If Llewellyn, the most inconvenienced, didn't want to give up his pride and piggyback on... well, Gerrit found his noble hauteur inexplicably cute.

 Me too, buddy. Don’t worry, you can carry your elf later.

He also wasn't in a particular hurry because it was awfully uncomfortable to make any sort of time with his arousal pressed flush to his thigh.

A reminder that sex is usually going to be involved in my stories. The snz is not enough by itself.

Llewellyn coughed into his elbow and then started walking again.  Gerrit had pulled back his hood for him in the morning and braided his hair, and the crown of plaits caught the afternoon sunlight like an obsidian.  Gerrit tried not to let his eyes linger on the sorcerer's pale nape.  Or any other part of him.  He and Llewellyn had been travelling together for close to three years, working for their current patron in the capital, and in that time Gerrit had felt himself growing closer to the elf.  Wanting to be closer, anyway.  

Llewellyn shot a glance at him and caught him looking.  Gerrit flushed and turned his gaze back ahead to the road.

"You've been very accommodating during all of this," the elf said, tone carefully neutral.

Gerrit shrugged.  "It doesn't bear mentioning.  We're comrades."

"Comrades," Llewellyn repeated, an edge to his voice that Gerrit couldn't quite place.  "Is that all it is?"  He kicked a stick that had fallen to the cobblestones, sending it into the brush. Somewhere to the right, bumblebees droned over a meadow.

 Llewellyn is kind of a asshole and not super great at communicating with any level of affection, although he does get better.

Gerrit swallowed.  "Yes?  You and I, we've helped each other before.  I consider you to be a steadfast companion."  Eyes on the road.  Eyes on the dappled play of shadowed leaves and light on the ground.  "Why do you ask?"

"So shy," Llewellyn exclaimed, a tad mockingly.  "You've never been shy about taking me to bed, Gerrit."  Despite his short height, the elf seemed to find it easy to look down his nose at the much taller fighter.  "Has something changed?"

 Height difference is also personally sacred to me.

"Changed?"  Eyes on the road.

Llewellyn stopped walking.  "You called me 'arimelda.'  'Dearest.'  Did you think I wouldn't hear you over my sneezing?"  He couldn't cross his arms with his hands trapped by the orb, but the set of his jaw was determined and his firm brows were arched.  "I wasn't so distracted then as you seem to have thought."

Gerrit shoved his hands in his pockets.  He stopped walking but didn't turn.  "Apparently not," he muttered.  "Look, we can set it aside.  Doesn't have to mean anything – doesn't have to change anything.  I know a highborn elf like you wouldn't consider an official relationship with a half-elven bastard, and I've known that from the start.  For my whole life.  So... I care about you.  But it can just be as comrades, or whatever you want it to be."  Llewellyn was quiet, and after a long minute, Gerrit did turn on his heel, desperate to know what kind of reaction he'd provoked.

 The angst of the half-elven existence! Gerrit is a very typical half-elf in terms of D&D characterization, lol. Despite that, I do find these different-lifestyle pairings interesting, so they keep happening, cliche or not. There is a definite pathos in the elf/human relationship because of the different lifespans, of course - most famously depicted through Arwen and Aragorn, probably, although he’s not the exactly typical human. Anyway, it kind of varies how people like to determine elven and half-elven lifespans in D&D depending on the PHB and your DM’s weary forbearance lol, but Gerrit and Llewellyn will expect to live similar lengths because I’m a sap.

He saw Llewellyn standing with his eyes closed and head titled back, lips parted.  The elf's nostrils flared as he gasped.

"Are you going to sneeze again??" Gerrit asked.  He threw up his hands, then went for his handkerchief once more.  They ­did have an arrangement.

He strode back over to Llewellyn's side and tucked the cloth around his nose again, thumb and forefinger just resting on the elf's nostrils.  He started to rub Llewellyn's back.  "You have the worst timing, you know?  Here I am, spilling my heart to you and everything."  

 I laughed writing this part, too. You can’t always let things just be angst.

"Sh-hhuh-t up, I jh- just nih-" Llewellyn gasped again and gave in; he had no other choice.  "Hahktscht!"  He moaned and pressed closer into the handkerchief, thick congestion only aggravating the itch that remained inside.  "Hkktschtt!  Hngtscht!  Hahh- ah-- ankcxttschiu!"

 That sure is a bunch of letters crammed together!

"Easy... it's okay."  Gerrit massaged Llewellyn’s nose, tried to soothe the irritation.  He guided Llewellyn to the side of the road, and, in a moment of calm, settled him to sit on the grassy bank.  He followed, kneeling at the elf's side.  Llewellyn was tearing up again and his nose was twitching against the pads of Gerrit's fingers.  Gerrit felt electric all over.  He found himself wishing the handkerchief was gone so that he might touch the soft, heated skin of Llewellyn's septum, coax the elf to relax and loose his tension, sneeze into Gerrit's palm.  The mess didn't bother him; none of it bothered him.  He was supremely unbothered.  His cock was almost painfully hard.

It took several more minutes punctuated with more urgent expulsions before Llewellyn seemed to trust himself to speak.  His eyes were wet with unshed tears, eyelids tender and reddened.  His nose was brightly ruddy, running to chapped.  He had to take a shaky breath, collecting his thoughts.  "Gerrit."

 I’m a very visual writer. This kink is extremely visually-based for me. I wish I could draw as well as I want to so I could depict these scenes how I imagine them, but eh.

"Yes?"  Gerrit lowered the handkerchief, gently pinching as he did to clear any lingering moisture.  He wasn't ready to hear a rejection, nor did he feel particularly ready for a lecture or a tirade or even a logical exploration of why a relationship was a bad idea.  He wanted, if possible, to keep walking to Veigh, side by side, listening to the bees and dragonflies and songbirds settling in for the evening, feeling the light breeze on his face, replete with the scents of summer.  

"Kiss me."

Gerrit blinked, mental caravan bunching to a halt.  "What?"

 i am so funny omg

Llewellyn nudged him in the chest with the orb.  "Kiss me.  You're all worked up."  He cleared his throat.  "And judging by the state of you, you're not put off by my cold.  So?"  He tilted his head to the side, gently, closed his eyes.  "I want you to kiss me."

 An example of the B character not really forcing the admitting of the fetish but just kind of not caring. That is also okay, and I think it’s normal. People don’t just admit to all their kinks immediately upon entering a relationship.

Baffled, but feeling as though maybe all was not lost, Gerrit obliged, pressing their lips together.  His own eyes slid closed and he cupped Llewellyn's cheek, deepening the kiss, touching their tongues together, trying to convey how he felt.  Whatever had changed.  The kiss lasted for too short a time; Llewellyn broke away to breathe, eyes half-lidded, but he didn't lean away.

 I’ve never kissed anyone, but I consume media. I feel like I am pretty good at depicting things regardless of experience.

"I'm not going to dismiss you out of hand," he said.  "You or your feelings.  But I would ask for some time to think."  He looked up through his lashes.  "Are you feeling better?"

 Another thing I like in romance, even in kink short stories like this, is a more realistic portrayal of the confession than just “It was obviously meant to be~”

Gerrit could feel his pulse in every extremity.  "Not really," he managed, and he kissed Llewellyn again, this time sliding one hand under the elf's head and one at his hip and pressing him back to lay in the grass.  He moaned in his throat as Llewellyn kissed back, and when they had to break for breath, he started to kiss at Llewellyn's forehead, jaw, throat, wherever he could touch skin.  His hands roamed over the elf's body, smoothing over hip and thigh and belly until he could start to undo the buttons on Llewellyn's close-cut robes.

"Gerrit," gasped Llewellyn.  He moved the orb between them, jamming it into Gerrit's sternum.  "You are not going to sleep with me on the side of the damn road!  Get ahold of yourself!"

 He has standards!

Gerrit growled at the quick pain in his chest, then shook his head and leaned back.  He flushed deeply and pulled his hands away.  "Oh.  Oh, fuck, sorry.  I-"

"Pick me up."  Llewellyn lifted his arms.

"What??"  Gerrit's brain was having a hard time keeping up at the moment, all of his blood being elsewhere.

"There was a thicker copse of trees back about thirty feet, on the left."  Llewellyn waved the orb at him.  "Pick me up.  We can lay down there."

 His standards are NOT that high! But he does have them!

So.  So Gerrit ducked his head into the circle of Llewellyn’s arms and picked him up, holding him securely and setting off down the road again, back the way they’d come.  The elf was right; there, about twenty feet back from the bank, was a thick copse of pines, all grown together with wild geranium and maidenhead ferns.  Gerrit pushed through, shoulder first.  Despite its proximity to the thoroughfare, the inside of the stand was quiet and shielded completely from view.  This would do nicely.

 Told you you’d get to carry him soon.

He set Llewellyn back on his feet and made short work of undressing him, first freeing the sorcerer from his pouches and bags, then undoing the silver buttons on his robe from his collarbone to his crotch.  The rich fabric fell open appealingly.  Next, Gerrit freed the elf from his boots and leggings.  A long white shirt, woven from the finest of elven angora, still covered him, but Gerrit pushed the fabric up over Llewellyn’s belly, leaning in to kiss the elf again and touching him intimately.

Llewellyn moaned and nudged Gerrit’s hip with the orb.  “Now you,” he said.  “I want to see your body.”

Gerrit complied, making quick time shedding his cloak, pack, leather armor, breeches, boots.  Two daggers, two short swords, caltrops, a bow and quiver, a glaive, and a spiked whip followed.  He pushed them to the side as Llewellyn rolled his eyes.

This is another funny trope lol, like when a hero or assassin or someone has to go through airport security and the metal detector keeps beeping because they’re carrying 18 knives on their person. Fighters are proficient in every weapon, so why not have one of everything?

"You can't possibly have a use for all of those," the elf said, and then Gerrit captured his mouth again.

He laid Llewellyn down on the soft carpet of pine needles, using his cloak to cover the ground and double as a makeshift pillow.  The elf was beautiful in the shifting shade, skin flawless.  He had the orb resting on his chest and it glowed intermittently in the inconstant sunlight.  The gold chain netting that encapsulated both the orb and Llewellyn's fine-boned hands glimmered.  "You know," said Gerrit, smoothing a hand down Llewellyn's bare thigh.  "You'd look pretty good bound up in gold chain."

"This isn't enough for you?"  He scoffed.

Gerrit laughed.  "It would be fun to tease you.  I love it when you fuss at me.  So cute."  He dodged Llewellyn's elbow and settled down on his stomach, hooked one of Llewellyn's legs over his shoulder, and nuzzled the base of the elf's cock.  "Ready, arimelda?"  His own cock was under him, pressed to his stomach in the confines of his shirt.  He could feel his pulse in the head of it, quickening with the scent of his lover.

"Yes, you prick," sighed the elf, and he moaned when Gerrit started to kiss him and lave his skin.  His fingers flexed on the orb, longing to wind into Gerrit's hair.

 Licking is kind of thing, and I love writing about fellatio so. Yay~

Gerrit took Llewellyn into his mouth eagerly, fingers curled over the elf's thighs, fingertips pressing at the sensitive inner surface as he sucked and teased and swallowed.  Like this, he could focus on Llewellyn's pleasure.  The noises the usually stoic and prideful sorcerer was making were enough to make Gerrit moan, mouth full, and rock his hips.  Nothing pleased Gerrit more than seeing Llewellyn undone, seeing the elf flushed and open and undone for him.  And he shivered, all over, when he heard the elf's breath catch and his tone go wavery.  He thought he could come from this, listening to Llewellyn sneeze while pleasuring him implacably with a heated, well-placed tongue.

 This is also VERY IMPORTANT. Caretaking to the point of like, partner worship idk. It’s good!!

"Aa, aa, ahh- ih- Gerrit, I-" Llewellyn drew his knee up, curling, heel drawing along Gerrit's back.  "I nih- need to snih- hh-"

Gerrit drew his head back, let Llewellyn's cock free for a moment.  He didn't loosen his grip on the elf's legs, though, wound up and desirous.  "Okay by me, melda, it's okay.  Feel all right?  Want me to stop?"  He was breathless himself, had to force the words past the distraction of his arousal, but he would abide.

 Consent is the sexiest thing.

"No, don't stop," Llewellyn groaned, then turned his head to the side.  "Hpptscht!  Hah- Haktschiu!"

"Bless, bless."  Gerrit kissed Llewellyn's thigh tenderly, then nipped it, drew his tongue over the hurt, sucked a bruise to mark its place.  He swallowed Llewellyn down again as the elf cried out in pleasure and then bent with another helpless burst.  Gerrit wondered if he could make Llewellyn come simultaneously with a sneeze and what that might feel like.  The fantasy set him alight.  His abdomen was tight, his cock like a brand on his stomach. He redoubled his efforts.

Gerrit felt it first, when Llewellyn came, in the tightening of the elf's thighs and stomach, then tasted the salt of his release.  His world narrowed down to taking it in, swallowing, milking with his mouth while Llewellyn cried out, going until the elf was pushing him away, keening, oversensitive.  He didn't wait to lift Llewellyn then into his lap, cradling him with one arm and stroking himself with the other hand, desperate to come as well.  Llewellyn pressed his face to the junction of Gerrit's neck and shoulder, tightly gripping the cloth of Gerrit's shirt as they rocked together.  The elf's nose was gently wet and he was panting, sniffling.  Gerrit came with a shout, holding him close, shaking with an overabundance of pleasure.  He let go of his cock and embraced Llewellyn fully.  He had enough presence of mind not to confess to anything, but he couldn't stop himself from murmuring how beautiful, how soft.

 okay. o__o There’s only so much I can say about writing the porn lol. I write what I want to read.

Gradually the world came back.  Birdsong, first, and the bees, the sounds of the trees swaying in the light breeze.  The lingering heat of the day, dampened by the shade and the growing dusk.  The musty smell of pine needles and the sharper hint of sap, the scents of sex, the pressure of Llewellyn astride his lap, the bite of uneven ground against his knees.  Llewellyn was touching his cheek, trying to say something sweet, failing because of his cold again.

 I tried to write this part so that it would not be immediately obvious to the reader, as it is not to the characters, that the orb is gone.

"Ah- hh- Ttschgktst!"

Wetness against his neck.  Gerrit wound his fingers with Llewellyn's and kissed his jaw.  "Bless you," he said.  "I'll find you a healer in Veigh.  We'll get you well again.  Right after we free you from the orb."  He laid his cheek against the back of Llewellyn's hand tenderly.  Then he paused. "Wait."  Straightening, he brought his hands between them.  The right was laced with Llewellyn's left.  "The orb is gone."

Llewellyn straightened also, looking down at his hands.  His hands with no orb.  He lifted them both, amazed.  And then wiped his nose on his wrist, sighing in pleasure.  Gerrit tried not to blush despite everything.

 Me too, buddy.

"Where did it go?" he asked, looking past the elf's shoulder.  "Why did it come off?"

"Who even cares at this point??"  Llewellyn had let go of him and was stretching, running his palms over his body, touching his own arms and face and cock, finally able to move and feel again after three days of magical bondage.  He wiggled his fingers and then clapped his palms together, raising a small flame with their parting.  "I have my freedom back.  I can cast spells again.  I can-" He smiled brilliantly.  "I can touch you, too."  He dropped his hands suddenly to Gerrit's lap, nimbly taking Gerrit's cock between them.

Gerrit lost track of the orb immediately.

 Me too, buddy.

---

It was dark indeed when the two of them made it to the inn in Veigh, but both were in high spirits.  Gerrit had relinquished handkerchief duty back to Llewellyn with a great internal mourning, but he could always fantasize about this again in the future (he did, frequently), and he knew that Llewellyn, despite his best efforts, would catch more colds on the road (he did, more frequently than he would like).

I would love to play a fetish-friendly D&D campaign, but it would be way too embarrassing, probably. My current PC has allergies, but I have never mentioned them in-game and probably never will lol. God help me if my DM ever remembers that I wrote them into my character sheet.

Remembrance and Cordes had only been able to secure one room, it seemed, with two beds.  Gerrit resigned himself, going up the stairs, to sleeping on the floor. But... it was apparent upon entering the small space that... well, their priest and thief had ended up taking up only one of the beds, together.  Gerrit and Llewellyn traded glances.

"I don't think I want to ask," said Llewellyn, going for the free bed.

"Sounds like a plan to me," Gerrit replied, joining him.

The untold story, lol

In the morning, Cordes, with great dignity sprung from embarrassment (the cause of which he did not volunteer) informed them that a letter had not been sent to the Mages Guild yet.  He was immensely relieved to find that one was no longer needed and quick to congratulate Llewellyn on his newly regained freedom.  Remembrance just chuckled from the bed and took her time buckling her armor back on.  

Already in Veigh, the party spent some time stocking up on medicines and liquefying some of the heavier treasures they'd liberated from the bandit camp.  Gerrit sent a message on to their patron to expect them back in the capital in a couple of weeks, barring disaster.  They purchased horses and set out, ready for the next adventure.

---

The orb lay still in the pine thicket, nestled like an egg among the ferns, waiting for the next hapless traveler. 

 Faust’s Orb of Rope Bondage. Make a Will saving throw [DC 15] upon touching the orb with any body part, wearing clothes or not. Upon a failure, the orb will find its way to adhere to the hand of the hapless adventurer. If both hands touch the orb, they will both be stuck. If two people fail the save, one of each of their hands will be stuck. The spell can be broken only if each attached party has an orgasm.

I GUESS

[leverage-ot3]

notable moments from The Tap Out Job

leverage 2.02

Jack: Somebody drugged his water. It's an old boxing trick. He couldn't defend himself, and... He's still in the hospital.

that’s fucked

- - - - -

Eliot: It's not a cockfight. All right? Let me show you something, Hardison. Come here. Can I borrow you? (puts a gentle hand on Parker’s hip, guiding her to the open space behind the couch) All right. Square up. Remember what I showed you?

(Hardison and Parker square up)

Hardison: Are you...

Eliot: There's three phases to an MMA--to an MMA fight, okay? One, striking. (Parker punches Hardison in the face) Nice. Next is grappling, the takedown. (Parker grabs Hardison and throws him on the floor) Exactly. All right. The third one is jujitsu. Okay, try to isolate a joint. (Parker gets Hardison in a hold) That's good. That's a textbook armbar, Parker. Put some pressure on there.

Parker: Like this?

Eliot: There you go. Or you can go for a choke hold.

Hardison: She got to be choking me. (tries to get away)

Eliot: Remember that thing that I showed you?

Parker: Oh, yeah. The choke.

Eliot: Lock that in. All right. You don't have to hold the arm. See, that's a triangle choke. That's nasty. Puts pressure on his carotid artery, and the guy will submit by tap out.

Hardison (tapping the ground): Eliot, I'm tapping! I'm tapping!

Eliot: These fights are won by inches, I'm telling you.

Hardison: I can't breathe!

Eliot: All about leverage.

Sophie: Yeah, it looks really painful.

Hardison: It is painful!

Nate: No TV deal, you said, huh? Hardison, what are this guy's other interests, this Rucker guy?

Hardison: Seriously, you ask me a question right now...

Sophie: I'll take that. Yeah, rotary club, golf membership.

Nate: Golf, huh?

Hardison: Help me!

Sophie: Yeah. I mean, this guy's like a 1950s sitcom character. He plays a weekly game with the local businessmen. In fact, last year, he won the club championship.

Nate: Did he? Hmm.

Hardison: Let me go!

Nate: I guess it's...

Hardison: She's killing me!

Nate: …it's time to hit the links.

Hardison: I'm cool. Just let me go real quick.

eliot canonically teaches parker how to fight in his spare time and I LOVE THAT

fucking CHAOTIC OT3 + parker is having a great time while hardison is dying

ALSO can we just for a minute appreciate how when she puts him in a chokehold she was wrapping her legs around his neck, which basically had his head in her crotch area and !!! it wasn’t sexualized at al !!! literally A N Y other show would have sexualized it even just a little bit but not leverage. never leverage.

- - - - -

I love it when they fuck with peoples gear (like with the baseballs or hockey pucks or in this instance the golf balls)

- - - - -

parker playing with the golf club covers

- - - - -

literally EVERY con has nate being an asshole (this one was one of the more annoying ones tho)

- - - - -

hi I am but a simple bi and eliot in that grey hoodie was VERY attractive

- - - - -

Room Service: Room service. Can I help you?

Sophie: Yeah, no, I can't eat this. I'm sorry?

Everything on my plate is yellow.

Room Service: It's chicken-fried steak.

Sophie: It's what? Chicken-fried steak?

Room Service: Yes.

Sophie: No, let me just tell you, all right. Meat should never be used as an adjective.

~ a little while late ~

Sophie: I'm starving.

Parker: I found these in the minibar. (throws her a bag)

Sophie: "Pork Rinds"? How do you peel a pig? (throws it back)

- - - - -

Hardison: Got it. See, Online video websites, they track viewer hits by IP Address, so the trick is to just spoof a bunch of IPs, then write a script that lets you browse the video page via the proxy list and...

- - - - -

Sophie: Well, this guy, he just--he give me the creeps.

Eliot: We've gone up against rougher dudes than this before.

Sophie: I know. But it's this whole treating people as commodities. This whole barbaric sport.

Eliot: Hey, don't lump these guys in with Rucker. All right, he's not what the sport's about.

Sophie: Eliot, this "sport" is about two guys beating the crap out of each other.

Eliot: MMA fighters act with more respect than any other athlete I've seen.

Sophie: Yeah, they're "Braveheart," I get it.

Eliot: No, you don't. These guys don't fight because they like hurting other people, all right. They fight to gain some sort of control over their opponents, over their environment, over their lives. Have you seen this town? Huh? The farms are drying up. The only stores are bail bondsmen and pawn shops, and there's nothing they can do about it. So, yeah, they get in the ring and try not to let it all suffocate them. (a beat, he smiles) And it's about two guys beating the crap out of each other. (she smiles back)

- - - - -

eliot is wearing a green flannel in this one and it looks very nice and comfy

- - - - -

Rucker: Well, bottom line is, you need good product. What event are you here to produce?

[Interior Van]

Hardison: On it. There's a tractor pull in grand island, a livestock show in council bluffs, white people doing other white things…

pls keep calling out white people pls we deserve it lmfao

- - - - -

Director (in car looking at his phone): Come on! Come on! Give me something! Come on! Is this gonna take long?

Nate (through window): No. Two shakes. Are you in a hurry?

Director: Even half a bar... what? Yes. Hurry. Does anyone in this backwater hellhole know what that means?

Nate: You're a director, right? What was your name again?

Director: What? It's Laurence. Todd Laurence.

Nate: Todd, well, listen, Mr. Laurence. See, I wrote a script...

Director: Huh?

Nate: Yeah. It's about a limo driver who solves mysteries till his wife leaves him for --

Director: For the love of god!

Nate: ...the best part: The feed store manager. Right? His wife…

Director: Yeah...?

Nate: Tramp...

Director: Hey, hee-haw, move the car! Okay

- - - - -

parker in leather pants, a bright yellow ‘I heart Nebraska’ tshirt and weird hat, eating a corn dog? ,,,a look I guess

- - - - -

Hardison (showing passes): So, I'm Todd Laurence? (girls flock to Hardison) Ladies, please, look. For the last time, I am not the tailback for the cornhuskers. Go! I don't even know what a cornhusker is.

- - - - -

Rucker: And all you need is a product?

Sophie: Well, that's what they are: Products. You get the girls with Trianna, you get the boys with MMA. And there's always another fresh-faced princess ready to go through the singing/dancing mill in Florida. Occasionally, we let one be a lesbian, keeps the press on their toes

- - - - -

Hardison: What? What? W-what was I supposed to do? It was cousin Jimmy.

Sophie: He's right. We couldn't have planned for that.

Hardison: Look, you know what I can do? I can re-task a satellite, I can get a level 3 NSA clearance, but I can't hack a hick

- - - - -

Eliot: All right, it doesn't matter. What do we do now?

Parker: We can move the Howorth.

Eliot: We're not moving the Howorths. All right? This is their home. That means something to people here.

Sophie: Yeah, we can't babysit them forever.

Nate: We've taken out bigger players than this. You know, there's got to be some way, something we can...

Eliot: No, no! I take the dive.

Sophie: You sure?

Hardison: Give me some time, okay? I've found some funny business in Rucker's accounts. I can move some things.

Eliot: Forget the fact that we just got beat by Barney Fife, all right? This is the right move. Tactically it's the right move. You all know that. (walks away)

none of them want to see eliot hurt more than he needs to or see him go down like that and I cry

alec ‘give me five minutes I will do literally anything for eliot’ hardison

- - - - -

Sophie: Hey. Listen, you-you don't have to do this, you know. Nate's gonna come up with something.

Eliot: I'm losing a fight, Sophie. I'm not diving on a grenade. I'll be all right.

Sophie: Yeah, I know. I'm not talking physically.

Eliot: I think my ego can handle it.

Sophie: Look, you told me that it's about control, about knowing that you're never gonna be the victim. And that's what keeps you going, right?

Eliot: You think I'm upset 'cause I got to let this guy kick my ass? I learned a long time ago, you can't control the violence. I can take the punishment. That's what I do. What I need to control is not out there. (touches his chest) It's here. Always.

(Sophie smiles and walks away)

- - - - -

hardison holds eliots face before he fights I never noticed that before

+ eliot’s hair is curly when it’s wet/when he’s sweaty. this means he blowdries his hair on a regular basis. eliot, as a part of taking control of himself and his life after moreau took interest in self care and taking care of his hair in this essay I will-

- - - - -

one thing I love about this is that eliot doesn’t have a six pack (see this commentary I made with a few lovely additions by my mutuals)

- - - - -

Jack: Where's Rucker?

Hardison: Oh, the Iowa State Police just got a tip that a fugitive is headed into their jurisdiction. And I'm pretty sure crossing state lines with a bag full of cash won't look too good.

Parker: Especially when they find the little surprise in his trunk.

[Flashback, Pawn Shop]

Parker: I need guns. (dumping money on counter) $6,000 worth. And one of those.

LMFAO THERE WAS A TUBA TOO

- - - - -

Doctor (examining Eliot): You took a hell of a pounding. We should get you a CT scan. You could have internal bleeding.

Jack: You let yourself get hammered like that on purpose? That's a hell of a lot of punishment to take.

Sophie: That's what he does.

- - - - -

eliot held the rope up for parker to step under when they were getting out of the ring

- - - - -

Sophie (to Parker): Pork rind? They're actually pretty good. (parker shakes her head and rubs her stomach) You sure?

sophie nO