#megs it is partly your fault

[ariadne-mouse]

Grog would be fascinated by Essek floating.

And immediately try to fuck with it.

#essek thelyss #yes i haven't stopped thinking about this #megs it is partly your fault #critical role #grog #4 sided dive

[dontpetmeibite]

Ravage, how did it feel seeing Tarn perish at Megatron's hands for...literally ripping you in half? Or at least a version of you, I should say.

I know that wasn't the main reason, but I feel like it was what drove o'l Megs to go "fuckit mode" and kill Tarn like the mistake he was.

I have actually not seen that, and I don't want to. Is this the manner in which you normally ask people you've just met about their traumatic experiences?

If I put myself in the position of that Ravage, seeing that incident, I think it would piss me off, because it would have been better for me if he'd chosen to do that before I died, not after.

But I don't know. And I don't know what any of those people went through, whether it was the same as me or not. I mean that Ravage was still using he/him pronouns and maybe he liked them, maybe he was a masculine person instead of a person who didn't want all her enemies to know she was a girl until the war was over.

Here is what I do know based on what happened in my own timeline.

Megatron was subjected to a partial "personality adjustment" on Messatine. At first I didn't know that and I was pleased to see my amica finally accepting that we were not going to be able to go to Iacon and politely ask the Senate to vacate the premises and allow us to craft a functional and just government without giving a few people Rossum's three shots.

But it just kept getting worse and worse. Soundwave and I were never accused of treason or taken out and shot because Megatron loved us as people, but he also stopped listening to us when we said we thought things were going too far.

Then we had

(yes glit I borrowed your gif)

and at the end of it he went Autobot and abdicated and abandoned us and that totally aided the cause of peace because Galvatron and Soundwave coming to blows was not anything that anyone could have ever seen coming given their respective personalities, and I ended up on the Lost Light for reasons and you know.

After I left the LL, Megatron got attacked by a rogue mnemosurgeon who could fuck with people's brains without touching them and mysteriously recovered the pacifism of his early youth. Which would have been very convenient for that guy (seriously, fuck that guy) if Tailgate hadn't ruined his day by dropping a shuttle on him.

Shortly after this completely normal and unforced moral 180 Megatron tried to bash his brain into a wall and told his doctor that he'd never been happier with a huge grin on his face. Because that's not suspicious or anything.

So far as I can tell the only purpose my death served in that timeline was to make Soundwave utterly miserable (and result in him ending up with that idiot Cosmos) and make Megatron get up off his aft and blow up the guy he turned into a raving mad serial killer at least partly on purpose with antimatter. But I don't know. I didn't live that life.

Charlie, Marissa and Miko told me that this is called "refrigeration" when it happens to female human characters in stories and that if I were a fictional character they would be pretty mad about that.

My point is I'm not judging anyone here in this scenario because Trepan and Sunder both fucked with Megatron's head and in the intervening time period Megatron fucked with Glitch's head and made him into Tarn, although I do not think we can blame all of that on Megatron because the guy was the commandant of Grindcore at one time, while my brother was there, so.

Our history is enough of a sideshow in the timeline I'm actually in. Would I be glad to know I was avenged? I guess so. But on the other hand if I died because of his fucking vow of pacifism and he didn't keep it that's not exactly wonderful either. And on the third one (good thing I have four paws) maybe it's really the fault of all those needlefuckers who thought they had the right to open up his cranial vault and redecorate!

I'm not blaming a Megatron I never met for the exigencies of a situation I was never in. Megatron is my amica, Soundwave is my conjunx, Tarn did horrible things to people in my universe too, I just wasn't one of them. and it didn't happen.

My point is, you're asking me how I feel about people I don't even know that are actually NOT the people I love the most in this universe. They look and act a whole lot like those people but I have no idea if they're the kind of people they were in my own universe.

I mean I could also say "Minimus Ambus needs two whole sets of armour so that nobody catches him impersonating a vertebrate" which is a thing that I actually said in my own universe once.

But if I did say that, I would be talking about the one in my universal stream. And that would cause no end of needless offence, because there could be five different people reading this post who are also named Minimus Ambus, but none of them did any of the shady shit the Ambus brothers I knew in my own universe did.

Or maybe they did but since I don't know them I'd possibly rather not know.

#metaverse ravage #ic but not really #she would never actually say this where the rest of y'all could read it #so enjoy #<3

[hellsitesonlybookclub]

Little Women, Louisa May Alcott

Chapter 21

"Indeed, sir, I cannot tell; mother forbade it. Laurie has confessed, asked pardon, and been punished quite enough. We don't keep silence to shield him, but some one else, and it will make more trouble if you interfere. Please don't; it was partly my fault, but it's all right now; so let's forget it, and talk about the 'Rambler,' or something pleasant."

"Hang the 'Rambler!' come down and give me your word that this harum-scarum boy of mine hasn't done anything ungrateful or impertinent. If he has, after all your kindness to him, I'll thrash him with my own hands."

The threat sounded awful, but did not alarm Jo, for she knew the irascible old gentleman would never lift a finger against his grandson, whatever he might say to the contrary. She obediently descended, and made as light of the prank as she could without betraying Meg or forgetting the truth.

"Hum—ha—well, if the boy held his tongue because he promised, and not from obstinacy, I'll forgive him. He's a stubborn fellow, and hard to manage," said Mr. Laurence, rubbing up his hair till it looked as if he had been out in a gale, and smoothing the frown from his brow with an air of relief.

"So am I; but a kind word will govern me when all the king's horses and all the king's men couldn't," said Jo, trying to say a kind word for her friend, who seemed to get out of one scrape only to fall into another.

"You think I'm not kind to him, hey?" was the sharp answer.

"Oh, dear, no, sir; you are rather too kind sometimes, and then just a trifle hasty when he tries your patience. Don't you think you are?"

Jo was determined to have it out now, and tried to look quite placid, though she quaked a little after her bold speech. To her great relief and surprise, the old gentleman only threw his spectacles on to the table with a rattle, and exclaimed frankly,—

"You're right, girl, I am! I love the boy, but he tries my patience past bearing, and I don't know how it will end, if we go on so."

"I'll tell you, he'll run away." Jo was sorry for that speech the 267 minute it was made; she meant to warn him that Laurie would not bear much restraint, and hoped he would be more forbearing with the lad.

Mr. Laurence's ruddy face changed suddenly, and he sat down, with a troubled glance at the picture of a handsome man, which hung over his table. It was Laurie's father, who had run away in his youth, and married against the imperious old man's will. Jo fancied he remembered and regretted the past, and she wished she had held her tongue.

"He won't do it unless he is very much worried, and only threatens it sometimes, when he gets tired of studying. I often think I should like to, especially since my hair was cut; so, if you ever miss us, you may advertise for two boys, and look among the ships bound for India."

She laughed as she spoke, and Mr. Laurence looked relieved, evidently taking the whole as a joke.

"You hussy, how dare you talk in that way? Where's your respect for me, and your proper bringing up? Bless the boys and girls! What torments they are; yet we can't do without them," he said, pinching her cheeks good-humoredly. "Go and bring that boy down to his dinner, tell him it's all right, and advise him not to put on tragedy airs with his grandfather. I won't bear it."

"He won't come, sir; he feels badly because you didn't believe him when he said he couldn't tell. I think the shaking hurt his feelings very much."

Jo tried to look pathetic, but must have failed, for Mr. Laurence began to laugh, and she knew the day was won.

"I'm sorry for that, and ought to thank him for not shaking me, I suppose. What the dickens does the fellow expect?" and the old gentleman looked a trifle ashamed of his own testiness.

"If I were you, I'd write him an apology, sir. He says he won't come down till he has one, and talks about Washington, and goes on in an absurd way. A formal apology will make him see how foolish he is, and bring him down quite amiable. Try it; he likes fun, and this way is better than talking. I'll carry it up, and teach him his duty."

Mr. Laurence gave her a sharp look, and put on his spectacles, saying 268 slowly, "You're a sly puss, but I don't mind being managed by you and Beth. Here, give me a bit of paper, and let us have done with this nonsense."

The note was written in the terms which one gentleman would use to another after offering some deep insult. Jo dropped a kiss on the top of Mr. Laurence's bald head, and ran up to slip the apology under Laurie's door, advising him, through the key-hole, to be submissive, decorous, and a few other agreeable impossibilities. Finding the door locked again, she left the note to do its work, and was going quietly away, when the young gentleman slid down the banisters, and waited for her at the bottom, saying, with his most virtuous expression of countenance, "What a good fellow you are, Jo! Did you get blown up?" he added, laughing.

"No; he was pretty mild, on the whole."

"Ah! I got it all round; even you cast me off over there, and I felt just ready to go to the deuce," he began apologetically.

"Don't talk in that way; turn over a new leaf and begin again, Teddy, my son."

"I keep turning over new leaves, and spoiling them, as I used to spoil my copy-books; and I make so many beginnings there never will be an end," he said dolefully.

"Go and eat your dinner; you'll feel better after it. Men always croak when they are hungry," and Jo whisked out at the front door after that.

"That's a 'label' on my 'sect,'" answered Laurie, quoting Amy, as he went to partake of humble-pie dutifully with his grandfather, who was quite saintly in temper and overwhelmingly respectful in manner all the rest of the day.

Every one thought the matter ended and the little cloud blown over; but the mischief was done, for, though others forgot it, Meg remembered. She never alluded to a certain person, but she thought of him a good deal, dreamed dreams more than ever; and once Jo, rummaging her sister's desk for stamps, found a bit of paper scribbled over with the words, "Mrs. John Brooke;" whereat she groaned tragically, and cast it into the fire, feeling that Laurie's prank had hastened the evil day for her.

#hellsitesonlybookclub #bookblr #Little Women #Alcott

[marril96]

The Distance Between Us

Chapter 34: Tripping

Pairing: Rowena x reader

Summary: It’s time for the senior trip.

A/N: Huge thanks to @fangirlxwritesx67 for recommending and helping me out with research about Branson, Missouri.

Editor: @miss-moon-guardian

*****

Traveling was the worst.

The act itself wasn't that bad, but the lead up to it might as well have come from Hell itself.

Waking up early — so early the birds had yet to start chirping and the sun was barely glazing over the horizon, it, too, too tired to function.

Pulling on clothes in a half-assed attempt to look presentable when you didn't even remember your name, yet alone knew what you were doing and why.

Going through your bag one more time to make sure you'd packed everything and messing it up because you still hadn't had your coffee and your vision, on a scale from one to ten, was somewhere between a a minus five and a zero.

To be completely honest, you had no one to blame but yourself (not that you would ever admit it; Rowena's pride had rubbed off on you, or at least that was the excuse you were going with). If you'd gone to bed early instead of chatting with your girlfriend about things you wouldn't be comfortable bringing up in polite society, you wouldn't have woken up feeling like shit.

You wished to say it was worth it, but…

Oh, to hell with it!

It was worth it.

Rowena was worth it.

Today marked the third month, to the day, of your relationship. Time went by so fast; days bled into weeks, weeks into months, and, before you knew it, the dreadful cold was replaced by the fresh green of plants and the brightness of the sun, and you and Rowena couldn't have been more in love.

It was the one constant in the changes around you.

You loved each other; truly, madly, deeply. The more time you spent with her, the surer you were you wanted her in your future.

You wanted to spend the rest of your life with her.

You knew it was too soon. You'd known her for years, but you'd been friends for less than a year and only dated for three months. It was too short a time to get to know her, all of her. To get to know yourself before making such an enormous plan.

But you were sure.

You knew her enough to know there was no one you would rather be with; not now, not ever.

She was everything you'd always dreamed of, and more. So much more.

She knew how to make you laugh when you were down.

She teased and pushed all the right buttons, always with a promise of fun, never crossing lines.

She held you when you were down, whispered sweetly into your ear until you gave into a smile.

She cared about you so much. Too much. More than either of you thought she ever would.

And, most important of all, she loved you.

Good god, she loved you.

She didn't say it much, but she never wasted a moment to show it. Her kisses were love personified. When she touched you — when she held your hand, stroked your hair, hell, even slapped your ass — you felt safe, protected. At home.

You belonged with her.

If there was a way to make it official, to make it last forever, you would go for it in a heartbeat.

Maybe there would be, a hopeful part of you thought. Maybe, sometime in the future, near or otherwise, the two of you would make it official.

It wasn't something you often considered. You didn't need a piece of paper to prove your feelings, but…

Maybe.

Rowena was already in front of the school's gates by the time you showed up. She was clad in her usual attire, a strange mix of business and glamour you found incredibly attractive. A pair of purple sunglasses hung over her eyes. They were huge, extra; completely her style. She sipped on a thermos of what you assumed was tea, and you instantly thought of Crowley's alcoholic coffee.

Rowena was Scottish, but not to that extent.

"Morning," you said, diving in for a quick kiss — your usual greeting.

"Good morning, love." Her voice gave way that she hadn't had her full beauty sleep, either. Which was partly your fault, but, in your defense, she had messaged you first. She'd started it. You'd just joined in on the fun.

"You look like hell," Dean, who was standing right beside her, accompanied by Meg and Castiel, commented.

He was one to talk. "Likewise."

He shrugged.

"Nice shades," you told Rowena teasingly.

You could picture her rolling her eyes dramatically. "Don't you start."

"They are nice," you said defensively.

She looked at you in what must have been a glare. Then, pouting, she said, "I look horrible."

"That's impossible." She could get hit by a truck and would still be beautiful.

"I've got bags under my eyes," she sulked.

"Poor baby," you teased, which earned you a smack in the shoulder. "Ow! Don't be violent."

"Don't be mean and I won't."

"I'm never mean."

She snorted.

You huffed. "You're rude."

"Are you two five?" Dean said. It had been months, and he'd still not gotten used to your banter. If he cared to at all.

At least he didn't hate Rowena anymore.

It was an improvement.

Sort of.

"Are you under the impression we're talking to you?" Rowena retorted.

He rolled his eyes.

You and Rowena weren't the only ones who snared at each other.

She and Dean engaged in plenty of snark battles of their own.

Friendly ones, this time. No malice, all fun.

It was refreshing to see, to say the least. You didn't want to ever have to choose between them again (though your choice remained the same; some things you weren't willing to change your mind about).

Thankfully, it didn't take long for the bus to arrive. You weren't looking forward to spending four hours on the road, but it was better than standing amidst a crowd of kids, a part of which still, all these months later, stared at Rowena and whispered amongst themselves.

She was still the whore. Still the slut, the home-wrecker, the baby killer.

Rumors died hard.

To the Principal's credit, he had held an assembly back when it all happened. He'd managed to get some psychologist to come down to the school and talk about bullying for three long, long hours. It didn't do much, though there were quite a few students who realized what they'd been doing to their fellow peers — to Rowena — was wrong and left it alone. The majority didn't want to get in trouble.

There were no rules about opinions, though.

They were still allowed to think whatever they wanted about her. Whisper whatever they wanted amongst their friends so long as they didn't do it right in her face.

Rowena seemed okay with that.

You were not, far from it, but what could you do?

What they were doing wasn't — technically — bullying.

By some miracle known as being the Principal's kid, Lucifer was allowed to go on the trip. Kids had been banned for less; kids who didn't have daddy dearest guarantee they'd learned their lesson and would behave.

As if.

He and Olivette sat in the back of the bus, surrounded by their equally nasty friends. You and Rowena seated yourselves in the front; you by the window, leaning your head against the glass, and her right beside you, commenting — whining, pout and all — how it wasn't fair, that she wanted to sit there.

Tough luck, baby.

You just chuckled and squeezed her hand, saying, "You can lean on me if you want. I'll be your pillow."

You didn't need to see her eyes to know she rolled them.

Meg and Castiel occupied the seats across from you, and in front of them Dean sat beside Charlie. You didn't know the rest of the students very well, but at the very least they weren't assholes like the ones in the back. It was a plus.

Sticking your headphones in your ears, you let your eyes wander outside. The scenery along the way was beautiful. Fresh and green and colorful with flowers, it looked like something straight out of a fairytale. There were fields of freshly planted corn, and those full of tractors and hunched over, hardworking farmers. Children played on the streets. People rushed to work. Cars buzzed left and right.

The country was alive, even in these early morning hours.

Rowena listened to your advice and let her head rest on your shoulder. It didn't take long for her to doze off. It was an adorable sight. Careful as to not wake her, you removed her sunglasses and lowered them on your lap. Unconsciously, she seemed to appreciate the gesture, as she instantly leaned further into you, pressing herself against you.

Her hand remained in yours, holding tight even in sleep.

She was so precious.

So wonderful.

So lovely.

A soft, tender little creature with walls of ice around her; ice you'd managed to melt and see past, to respect for the protection it provided her.

She trusted you in ways she hadn't trusted anyone for years. You swore to never do anything to jeopardize it.

I love you, sweet girl, you thought. I want to be with you. Forever.

Would she want the same?

Would she be willing to commit?

Would she be ready?

All in good time, you told yourself. For now, you just wanted to enjoy this moment of peace, of serenity. Of pure and utter bliss as Rowena's heart beat tenderly against your side, a soft, calming little melody.

When teachers announced your imminent arrival at your destination, you gently nudged her awake. "We're almost there."

She let out a yawn; a small, adorable one that made your heart flutter like a thousand butterflies. "Already?"

"Uh huh. Sleep well?"

"Decent."

You grinned. "Told you I'm a good pillow."

"Good enough."

"Mean."

"You know it."

Looking around for nosy teachers, you pressed a quick peck to her lips. "I'm hungry."

The corners of Rowena's mouth curled into a smirk. "By all means, go for it."

You rolled your eyes. "You know what I mean. But I wanna kiss you, too. Lots more."

"Do it, then," she said, and it sounded an awful lot like a challenge.

Usually you would be up for it, but… "Don't want the teachers to bitch."

"Who cares?"

"I don't need that shit this early in the morning." Right now, what you needed was food. "We can make out later. They can't supervise us all the time."

Rowena grinned, beaming. "Is that a promise?"

"I guess it is."

This was a senior trip, after all.

Why were you here, if not to have fun?

*****

Tags: @werewolfbarbie @oswinthestrange @songofthecagedmoose @apurdyfulmind @getthesalt-sam @metallihca @salembitchtrials @jay-eris @hellsmother @elizabeth-effie @shadowgirl-vsb @rowenaswife @wonderifshelikesroses @xfireandsin @liddell-alien @hotdiggitydammit @lae-lae @darkhumorsblog @angel7376 @cherrypierowena @ruthieconnells @evil-regal-vampiress @collectorofsecretsandsouls @angel-e-v-a @a-queen-and-her-throne @carryon-doctor-lock

#rowena #rowena macleod #spn #supernatural #spn family #rowena x reader #fanfiction #my fics #high school au

[symphonicdemise]

THE POSITIVE & NEGATIVE: MUN & MUSE

fill out & repost ♥ this meme definitely favors canons more, but i hope oc’s still can make it somehow work with their own lore, and lil’ fandom of friends & mutuals. multimuses pick the muse you are the most invested in atm.

tagged by: stolen from the Dash 

tagging: I stole it, so you can steal it too.

MY MUSE IS.   canon / oc / au / canon-divergent / fandomless

is your character popular in the fandom?  YES / NO/ Uhhhhhhhh

is your character considered hot™ in the fandom?  WELL… / NO / IDK. 

is your character considered strong in the fandom?  YES / NO / IDK.

are they underrated?  YES (imo) / NO.

were they relevant to the main story?  YES / NO. 

were they relevant to the main character?  YES / NO / THEY’RE THE ‘PROTAG’

are they widely known in their world?  YES / NO.

how’s their reputation?  GOOD / BAD (VERY BAD) / NEUTRAL.

HOW STRICTLY DO YOU FOLLOW CANON?

I make it a point to try and follow his canon attitude and reactions as closely as possible. That being said, most of the interactions that take place happen after MTMTE 55# and are therefor divergent from canon. I still try to stay true to his characterization (organiphobe, still a loyal decepticon, yadda yadda) but for the sake of roleplay and interactions, I do tone him down quite a bit.

SELL YOUR MUSE! (aka try to list everything, which makes your muse interesting in your opinion to make them spicy for your mutual.)

Tarn is... god How the hell do I sell this man. He’s not exactly a kind mech, but civility is one of the things he misses about his old life... Getting to sit back at a bar, relaxing and chatting up strangers that you probably will never see again. 

Being backstage at the opera house, getting ready to go on stage... I’m getting off on a tangent so I’ll just cut to the chase: If he doesn’t know you, and any interactions take place after MTMTE 55# he probably won’t try to cause bodily harm at first sight (with a few exceptions of course (Lookin at you Megs and OL)).

NOW THE OPPOSITE! (list everything why your muse could not be so interesting (even if you may not agree, what does the fandom perhaps think?)

HAHAHAHAH Where do I even begin with Tarn?

He’s probably clinically mad, absolutely loony... but it’s no fault of his own (partly). He’s flawlessly loyal to The Cause... and that’s one of his many flaws.

He cares more about enforcing some twisted sense of justice than he does about literally anything else.

WHAT INSPIRED YOU TO RP YOUR MUSE?

Hoo boy... that’s a hard one. There are probably a few things, one being that I’ve always been drawn to the antagonists since I was like... 5 years old. I think it’s mostly that I really like how he was written in, his personality, his overall design... I mean... just look at him!

That shouldn’t be allowed...

WHAT KEEPS YOUR INSPIRATION GOING?  

I have a single playlist on youtube that’s filled with music I think Tarn might listen to.

SOME MORE PERSONAL QUESTIONS FOR THE MUN.

do you think you give your character justice?  YES / NO.

do you frequently write headcanons?  YES (mostly in my head) / NO.

do you sometimes write drabbles? YES / NO.  

do you think a lot about your muse during the day? YES / NO.

are you confident in your portrayal?   YES / NO.

are you confident in your writing?  YES / NO.

are you a sensitive person?  YES / NO.

DO YOU ACCEPT CRITICISM WELL ABOUT YOUR PORTRAYAL?

As long as it’s constructive, and not just someone who’s like “ur bad k y s” cause that shit doesn’t fly with me.

If you think of something that I could do to make the portrayal more accurate, my god please tell me so I don’t fucking embarrass myself anymore!

DO YOU LIKE QUESTIONS, WHICH HELP YOU EXPLORE YOUR CHARACTER?  

ABSOLUTELY!!! It’s always fun to write up little drabbles from time to time (especially when I get to write about Pre-war Tarn/Damus

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES TO A HEADCANON OF YOURS, DO YOU WANT TO KNOW WHY?  

Yes, It’s always nice to see things from another perspective and hey! Maybe I’ll adopt a new headcanon!

IF SOMEONE DISAGREES WITH YOUR PORTRAYAL, HOW WOULD YOU TAKE IT?

I’d be upset for maybe a day, probably think about deleting my blog at least 50 times then go have a smoke and a beer and be good. *~*~*Poor Coping Kids*~*~*

IF SOMEONE REALLY HATES YOUR CHARACTER, HOW DO YOU TAKE IT?

You know, I wouldn’t blame them, at all. He really is an awful asshole. 

That being said, if they continued to harass me about it, I’d probably just be like “lol ok bye fam. If you don’t like him, fucking bounce kiddo”

ARE YOU OKAY WITH PEOPLE POINTING OUT YOUR GRAMMATICAL ERRORS?  

AAAA Please! I like to pride myself on catching my mistakes as I write them but I’m only human, I’m also blind in one eye so I’m seeing at half capacity compared to other people lol.

DO YOU THINK YOU ARE EASY GOING AS A MUN?  

Heck yeah! I’m just super nervous about talking to people. I’ll usually be lurking on my dash.

Don’t ever be afraid to hit me up, I’m like a freakin puff ball who’s riddled with anxiety about initiating conversation.

I don’t say it often but I do have other muses who are much easier to interact with. If you’re ever curious about them, just slide into my DM’s.

anyway this is a long ass post so I’ll just leave it here, Steal this if you want to!

#;; ooc post #;; about #;; The Mun Speaks

[yourkeeperoftherunners]

Little Talks and Mishaps [Epilogue]

Plot: AU Your neighbor summoned a demon as a dare, except he somehow overshot things and landed in your apartment. (Despite the lack of a pentagram.) He keeps showing up and oddly, he makes it a point to stop by after he’s done with her.

Rating: R (Language, implied sex, flirting, innuendos, incubus mythology)

Characters: Incubus!RM x Female Reader, Meg OC, plus mention of other members.

Notes: I am not an expert on demonology. This was based off a comical dream I had about someone accidentally ending up in my apartment when in reality they were looking for someone else. (The figure in the dream wasn’t a demon per se but a rookie individual that wasn’t human who appeared in places without using the front door.) This a different universe from the one with Incubus!Jungkook – different complex, neighbor, and scenario. Some of the rules from the mythology I wrote in JJK’s series will appear here.

"I’m so sorry for double booking!”

“Just go, you’re making the poor guy wait!” you insisted, cradling the phone between your ear and shoulder.

You strained your ears and heard hangers shuffling around in the closet, then drawers being opened.

“Tie or no tie?” Taehyung asked.

“No tie – unless it’s a formal place you’re wining and dining him,” you advised.

“He said it’s nicer than a quick service, but it’s not super bougie,” the young man replied.

“Okay, nix the tie,” you concluded. “Enjoy and be safe.”

“I owe you one,” Taehyung promised before hanging up.

You plugged your phone to your charger once the call ended and you stretched your arms. It had been a long, taxing day at work with non-stop meetings, sending several e-mails, and a handful of calls to outside partners. Taehyung accidentally double booking you with his new beau was saving grace for you. As much as you enjoyed his company, tonight you needed time for yourself.

You opened up your app for a food service delivery and scrolled through your options, trying to decide what to eat tonight. Your eyes lingered on the section containing weekly specials and you clicked to see it was Korean food this week. A small smile crossed your lips as you recalled the first Korean meal the tall, handsome incubus brought you after a long day at work.

Your finger scrolled through the restaurants and located the exact one he brought you bulgogi and pork belly from. Making up your mind, you added both meats, plus a side of japchae, to your cart and submitted the request.

Thirty minutes passed before you heard a knock at the door. You looked up from checking the TV Guide for shows and movies to watch and walked to the door.

You did a double take when you saw a familiar face outside the door, holding bags of food and a rolled rug under one arm.

For a moment you stepped away from the peephole, shaking your head. No, it was just your imagination. Namjoon wasn’t really outside your door at this hour with food and a rug, right?

The knock came again and you took a deep breath before unlocking the door and slowly opening it.

“You called for delivery?” Namjoon said as he hoisted the bags. “That also comes with a very overdue, complimentary rug.”

You snickered at the last part and beckoned him inside. “You delivering food on the side now?”

Namjoon shook his head and carried the bags to the counter. He shifted the rug to his other arm and prompted you to tell him where it needed to go. You took it and placed it in your room, propping it against the wall.

“I’ll deal with it later – thank you,” you told him. “But seriously, what are you doing here?”

“One of my colleagues does food delivery, but he has a commitment tonight,” Namjoon explained.

“Why did he take it? I mean, someone else could have said they’d do it,” you murmured.

Namjoon shook his head as he unpacked the food from the bags, lining the boxes up neatly on the counter. “He likes to take as many deliveries as possible because it means more money and more chances he might get lucky. He looks cute at first, but he’s capable of switching to sexy in seconds. I think he thought he could squeeze this one in before his commitment, but he forgot that he booked it too close. So I told him I’d do it, since I already know you. I don’t get to keep any of the money though.”

“Not even a bit of the tip?”

“I’m pretty sure he’d be upset if I took a cent,” Namjoon sighed. “Well, whatever – it’s his fault for trying to do too much at once.”

You walked over to the kitchen and took a seat at the counter, gesturing to the boxes holding bulgogi, pork belly, and japchae. “Well I tipped in the app already, but as a consolation, please hang out and eat with me? I do have some of that honey sesame cheesecake you tried when we first met.”

Namjoon paused, meeting your eyes. “You sure?”

You nodded and encouraged him to serve himself some food, pointing to the cabinet where the plates were kept. He retrieved two and passed a plate over to you, prompting you to serve yourself first.

“I don’t know what you did, but I’m really glad Meg’s gone,” you said as you wiped your mouth.

“I’m glad things are going better here for everyone,” he said. He pushed around a small piece of bulgogi with his chopsticks before picking it up. “Still single, huh?”

“Is it that obvious?”

“I don’t smell another male or female on you,” he commented. “Although you look tired. Everything going well at work?”

“Just busy,” you confessed. “I needed a night to myself, so I’m glad my friend accidentally double booked.”

“Good, glad you’re taking time for yourself,” he replied. He held out the piece of beef with a smile and you snorted.

“Still have that feeding kink I see.”

“It’s...hey! It’s not a kink!” he protested, a blush coloring his cheeks. “I like taking care of people!”

“Sure,” you teased. You took your plate to the sink and rinsed it, before adding it to the dishwasher.

Namjoon ate the bulgogi and brought his plate over, while you retrieved the cheesecake from the fridge.

“You want a slice?” you asked as you glanced over your shoulder.

“Only if I can share it with you.”

“How’s your real world experience going?” you asked.

Namjoon cut a piece off the slice and shared that he was doing well. He hadn’t done too much hooking up with humans since dealing with Meg, partly due to the fact that he had to file paperwork on the incident with the council.

“I didn’t get in trouble,” he reassured you. He stabbed the piece onto his fork, placing it in his mouth. He swallowed slowly and explained that Meg’s repeat requests were a rare case, which meant the council had to have records on file, especially since she was revealed to be a problematic case.

“We don’t get a lot of humans asking for the same demon,” he explained. “It was kind of nice to get a break from your world, but I don’t miss the paperwork. It took forever.” He stabbed another piece and held it to your lips.

“Did you feed Meg too or is it just me that gets fed?” you joked.

Namjoon shot you a look and you parted your lips to let the fork enter. The taste of honey, sesame, and soft cream cheese hit your tongue and you chewed slowly before swallowing. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Namjoon’s thumb coming toward your lips, then swipe at the corner to remove a small bit of the cheesecake.

You watched as his tongue flicked out to eat the bit of cheesecake off his thumb, eyes widening when you noticed how long it was. Honestly, you didn’t know much about incubi and their physical traits, other than they fed off sexual activity and whatnot. But after seeing his tongue, you couldn’t help but wonder how useful it probably was for oral.

“Y/N, you’re thinking about something naughty,” he teased when he studied your face. “Care to share?”

You coughed, trying to look away. He laughed warmly, amused by your sudden shyness.

“The tongue always catches humans off guard,” he noted with a faint smirk.

You nodded and rubbed the back of your neck, muttering that you didn’t expect him to have that.

“Maybe a big dick but – oh shit, I said that out loud!” you blurted out, clapping a hand over your mouth.

The incubus blushed slightly at the comment and he tilted his head, trying to get you to look at him. After a few moments, he slowly reached a hand out, resting it on top of yours.

Your eyes fell on the long fingers, a few adorned with heavy looking rings. Maybe it had been too long since you got laid – normally you could keep yourself in control, but tonight, it seemed hard to ignore them when you were being fed by a handsome demon.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I promise I’m not this thirsty.”

“It’s been a while, huh?”

"Yeah...actually I can’t remember the last time I took care of myself,” you confessed. You bit your tongue, trying to stop yourself from saying more.

Namjoon’s hand slowly massaged yours, his thumb circling your skin. “Well...if you would like help, I’m happy to assist in any way. We don’t have to go all the way and I’m not accepting a deal for this.”

You looked up at him as a thought crossed your mind. “Wait, when was the last time you fed?”

Namjoon sank his teeth into his bottom lip and thought about it for a moment. “Honestly? I think a couple of months – Meg might have been the last. I’ve been consuming a substitute food to hold myself over. It’s not great, but I wanted to get the damn paperwork completed right away.”

You turned to face him in your seat and met his eyes. “Would I taste any better than the fake stuff?”

His eyes widened and he blinked. His tongue poked out between his lips and his eyes flashed a brighter color of amber.

“Oh definitely.”

#BTS RM #BTS AU #BTS RM AU #BTS incubus AU #incubus AU #tw: incubus #tw: innuedos #tw: implied sex #18+ #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 2703

[xboysxlovexboys]

My first Destiel fic

Catching up on time: Ship Destiel <3 

Rated: M for later chapters. (mpreg warning as well.)

(This is just the epilogue.)

They boys finally take the step to the next part, but what happens when life decides to speed things up just a little. 

It was for once an easy Saturday night at the bunker, and Dean decided it was movie night. A movie night with his brother, and his...he used to think brother, lately though something has changed.

"I have failed you again dean," Cas called out from the kitchen making dean raise his eyebrow to exchange a look with Sam. He could tell Sam was about to get up, but instead, he waved him back down signaling that he had it. Getting up with a grunt, and still holding his bottle of beer in one hand he made his way to the kitchen. His mind wanders to a list of things that Cass could have done, most of them quite worrisome. Those worries were gone the moment he walked through the doorway and saw Cass staring disappointedly at a bag of burnt popcorn. "Cas.." He said with a deep chuckle and stepped towards him taking the bag from him. "It's my fault for not showing you first." Throwing away the bad popcorn, and sitting down his beer dean went to the cabinets to grab another bag of popcorn.

Cas nodded his head, and let his eyes follow dean like they always did. He had spent a lot more time with the Winchesters lately, but even he couldn't like he enjoyed his time with dean just a little more. He hadn't realized how hard he was thinking until he felt dean's had on his shoulder.

"Did I lose you, Cass? I mean I know making popcorn isn't the most exciting thing, but it's an important skill to possess." He said jokingly but also wondering what was on Cass's mind that made him check out for a second.

"Sorry, dean. I will focus now. Please continue." Just like that he turned everything off and put all of his attention back on learning how to pop popcorn. If Dean thinks its important then it must be.

Dean lets his hands slide slowly down Cass's arm before he let's go, and keeps speaking. "So as I was saying. After you get it all set up all you have to do is push the popcorn button, and you're golden." He points at the button so Cass could go over, and push it.

To follow where Dean was pointing Cass realized he would have to either go under dean's arm or take the long way around. So he quickly just ducked under dean's arm only leaving less than an inch apart for their bodies. Anytime dean was in a close proximity lately it had been causing Cass what he could only describe as strange lapses of time where he couldn't think straight. Hopefully, he wasn't possessed.

When Cass went under his arm and wedged himself between dean, and the microwave it had caught him off guard. Cas was embarrassingly close to him, but the thing is dean liked Cass being that close. When the angel stopped mid going to the button dean thought maybe he couldn't see it. Pressing himself against Cass he swore he heard the angel swallow, but it was hard to hear over his own pounding heart.

Cas twisted around Dean's arms noticing his heartbeat had picked up, and his breath was heavier. Making them almost nose to nose, and Cass could now feel Dean's breath on his face. Confused at the fact his hairs were starting to stand up like they were excited.

"Cas...Pe..." Dean stopped mid-thought, and he started to wonder if Cass's eyes had always been that blue...With that, he growled quietly at sounding so girly, and for a second considered just turning around to walk away. It wasn't until he thought about what he did normally when he had these kinds of feelings. Usually, it was with a woman, but This was Cass. He was special to dean even if he never really acknowledged it. Maybe with a, he's family here or there, but this was something different. " Son of a bitch.."

Now Cass's thought he might be angry or upset. His face didn't look like either of those things making Cass even more confused. Tilting his head to one side Cass moved his face in closer checking for any signs that could tell him what was wrong with Dean.

Dean only had to move his head a little to put his lips gently on Cass's. Dean found himself so nervous he didn't do anything else and pulled away. Which let him see Cass's face instantly causing him to put his head down, and make his way out of Cass's arm. What was he thinking in the first place?

Dean's lips felt really good on Cass's and unlike when he kissed Meg he found himself wanting more. He may not know much, but he had watched many movies including porn during his time on earth. The guy always kissed again which is why he didn't get why Dean was trying to get away. Quickly going through some other movies he had seen Cass took dean by the arm bringing him back to right in front of him. Yanking in dean by the collar Cass crashed their lips together, and use his tongue to open dean's lip deepening the kiss. He felt dean's hands go on into his hair tugging, and Cass's body was reacted accordingly. At the moment only him, and dean existed.

Sam glanced at his watch again, and when he saw time decided to go see what was taking the two so long. It's not like it wasn't normal for two to wander off, but sam really wanted his popcorn. It was the way Cass had sounded before dean left that he kept thinking about. What if Cass really had done something bad? What if Dean was now trapped? His walk moved up to a stride, and his stride became a sprint as he went to the kitchen. Sliding in the door he almost yelled out until he saw them kissing. It stopped him dead in tracks, and he tried to not make any noise. It's not like he wanted them to stop, but he wanted to say about time. They had been tiptoeing around it for months.

Just as dean went to press Cass against the microwave he saw Sammy in the corner of his eye. He instantly stopped and stared at his brother managing to get a few words out despite his instant worry. "I can explain."

Sam just lifted his hands in a showing of he wasn't upset. "No need to explain dean. I was actually just thinking it's about time." Sam reached over and grabbed a bag of chips of the counter. "I'm going to go start the movie. All I ask is if you go further to go to your room because we eat in here." He knew Dean would want to talk about this later and make sure Sammy was okay with it. It was something he fully supported, but he also didn't want to get into right now. With the move finally made he wanted it to continue moving so he longer had to deal with the two mooning over each other.

Sensing the slight tension Cas decided to speak up first knowing dean was probably still focusing on the fact Sam had caught them. "I agree with sam that we should go to your room, but if you want to stop now I understand." Cass wanted to continue, but if Dean didn't want to he would except it until something happened again.

For a second dean wanted to follow sam to talk to him and make sure he wasn't upset. It wasn't until he looked over at Cass that he changed his mind. The words registered that Caas had said, and mixed with the disheveled look of Cass's usual very put together look. His tie was partly undone, and the shirt under his trenchcoat was untucked on one side. The look in his eyes like he was waiting for Dean to make the next move made dean bite his lip. Deciding he could just explain it to Sammy later dean grabbed Cass's hand before walking off. "Let's go to my room. No nosy little brother's there." Dean didn't know what would exactly happen, but this was the start of a new chapter. There was no turning back now, and Dean would figure it out as it happened.

#destiel #dean x castiel #love them boys #boy love #dean and cas #true love #otp

[mothermaidenclone-blog]

A Wrinkle in Time or Can Giant Oprah Winfrey be my Fairy Godmother Please?

As soon as I heard about A Wrinkle in Time, I was very excited about it. The first ever live action movie with a budget of over $100 million to be directed by a black woman (Ava DuVernay), and it’s a science fantasy adventure starring a black teenage girl who’s a scientist - what more could you want? The costume and set design were both out of this world, pun very much intended, and I thought that most of the characters were three dimensional, well thought out and had meaningful interactions with each other. The plot, however, left something to be desired, as I felt it was a little all over the place and had a tendency to trail off in places. Admittedly, I have not read the novel, so this could be a problem with adaptation rather than writing.

*A Wrinkle In Time spoilers follow*

A Wrinkle in Time is predominantly the story of Meg Murry (Storm Reid), a young, teenage girl who is angry and disillusioned at the mysterious disappearance of her father, Dr. Alexander Murry (Chris Pine). The very first time we see Meg she is a child, enjoying and engaged in a science experiment with her father. She continues to be portrayed as a scientist throughout the film, explaining apparently magical phenomena, such as flying, using scientific terminology, as well as practically employing principles to save herself and her friends; for example, using strong winds to slingshot them to safety. S.T.E.M. fields are still overwhelmingly dominated by men that it’s so important for a children’s film, that many young girls will hopefully watch, to exemplify a black, teenage, female scientist as a role model.

Science aside, Meg sets a good example in a number of other ways. As an understandable consequence of feeling abandoned by her father - as well as being inexplicably bullied by other girls at her school because of his disappearance and a string of awful teachers talking about her behind her back, telling her that she’s not living up to her potential - Meg has very low self esteem at the start of the film. She aggressively rebuffs a compliment about her hair from her friend Calvin (Levi Miller) and she has trouble tessering - the means by which the characters travel instantaneously through the universe - because she does not entirely want to appear as herself again on the other side. Furthermore, Mrs. Whatsit (Reese Witherspoon) constantly and loudly professes her disappointment and lack of faith in Meg. At the end, this is presented as a sort of tough love and that Mrs. Whatsit really did believe in Meg all along, but a grown woman continually putting down an already troubled teenage girl gave parts of the film a weird tone that I did not enjoy.

However, Meg’s character develops, which is crucial for a young, female audience to see. This is partly shown through positive interactions between female characters; for example, Meg tells the Mrs., “The three of you are beautiful,” and one of them replies, “Thank you, and so are you.” This might seem banal, but to just blatantly show women positively supporting each other in a way that children will understand is vital. So often in Hollywood, women are portrayed as rivals, especially where looks and beauty are concerned, so to attempt to normalise women giving each other compliments and accepting them in return is so important. Continuing with this theme, A Wrinkle in Time firmly cements Meg’s rise in self esteem by showing her to accept a compliment about her hair later on in the film - she is beginning to like herself more without having changed how she looks at all.

This isn’t just limited to the physical, Meg comes to terms with her own faults, thanks to the originally seemingly ill-intentioned gift of honest self appraisal from Mrs. Whatsit, and realises that yes, they are a part of her, but they do not define her. Meg’s winning move against the evil entity of the film, the IT (David Oleyowo) is to boldly declare, “You should love me because I deserve to be loved.” She finally appreciates her own self-worth and has confidence in her many abilities. This is finally confirmed by Meg opening the portal that takes her and her brother, Charles Wallace (Deric McCabe), safely home - she is content with who she will be on the other side. It is so important to leave the audience with no doubt that Meg is comfortable, confident and happy with herself as a person - whilst not depicting her as being unattainably perfect, she is aware of and at peace with her flaws - because much of that audience will be young girls. I think this film has succeeded by portraying and praising this development and extolling a teenage girl who believes in herself.

Although Meg is the main character in A Wrinkle in Time, she is surrounded by many other wonderful female role models. Most predominant is her mother, Dr. Kate Murry (Gugu Mbatha Raw). Kate is presented as a scientist with equal standing to her husband, which is wonderful in and of itself, seeing as he is a white man and they usually dominate this field. In fact, Kate is seen as more respectable, as Alex is tutted off stage for his wild theories, but the same audience seems more willing to listen to her. When Alex goes off on a tirade after being rejected by the reputable scientific community, Kate offers him some sage advice, “In order to be great, it isn't enough to just be right, you have to actually be great, and we are. So why can’t you just help them along?” Not only is she a rational scientist, but an empathetic and practical person. Furthermore, Alex gives Kate all the credit for the science behind his journey; “Your calculations gave us the universe.” On top of all of this, she copes as a single mother for years and never gives up on her absentee husband, despite all the rumours about him. Kate is a very admirable woman, capable scientist and caring mother who provides a solid, realistic role model amidst all the fantasy.

More ostentatious exemplars take the form of the three Mrs.; the aforementioned Mrs. Whatsit, Mrs. Which (Oprah Winfrey) and Mrs. Who (Mindy Kaling). This trio comprises of one white woman, one black woman and one woman of Indian descent, so that’s a move in the right direction as far as representation is concerned. These women are self-proclaimed warriors in the name of light who display a variety of incredible powers such as physical transformation, bestowing magical gifts and being able to traverse the universe using only their own will power. Other than Mrs. Whatsit’s previously stated slights, the three are constantly encouraging, and do everything in their power to help the children on their quest. Even Mrs. Whatsit is positive to other women, declaring Kate as, “dazzling”. Speaking of which, the three women look completely magnificent; they have a variety of costume changes throughout the film, all of which serve to make them look regal, majestic and powerful. Another striking visual choice was to make Mrs. Which massive - I don’t mean fat or muscly, just like three times the size of a normal human. This simple manoeuvre immediately imbues her character with an innate sense of grandeur, prestige and strength. As far as their names are concerned, we never find out who they are married to; no husbands are ever mentioned, so can we infer that they are all married to each other? I hope so, because a triad of resplendent lesbian lovers who are warriors for the forces of good in the universe is just about the coolest role model I can think of for a children’s film.

One final named female character remains, Veronica (Rowan Blanchard). She is maybe the ringleader of the - to it’s credit, surprisingly ethnically diverse - group of girls who are bullying Meg for the baffling reason that her father is missing. Veronica doesn’t factor much into the film, except that she mirrors Meg’s journey of self-love and acceptance. She is a bully at the the beginning, but we gain a glimpse into her personal life and see that this could be because she is self-conscious perhaps to the point of an eating disorder - she has written all of the foods she won’t allow herself to eat on her mirror. However, at the end of the film she is starting to become more friendly towards Meg, and we can only hope towards herself too. Veronica is symptomatic of what I believe to be so important about the female characters in A Wrinkle in Time; she is on a journey of development and self acceptance.

Overall, there is a great variety of wonderful female characters in A Wrinkle in Time. They are diverse not only in looks, but also in personality, and between them display a remarkable list of laudable traits including curiosity, scientific aptitude, bravery, confidence, magical powers, determination and the ability to love - their friends, family and, perhaps most importantly, themselves. What is arguably most crucial about these characters, especially Meg, is that they were not presented as being unbelievably flawless from the start, but as real human women who develop, interact positively with each other and become stronger as the film progresses. It doesn’t matter to me that the story was sort of nonsense, I think A Wrinkle in Time has triumphed if it gets these messages of self-love and belief to a wide audience of children.  

And now for some asides:

Wow, Chris Pine can grow a beard really far up his cheeks, that was an important revelation.

Creepy, homogenous suburbia was one of the best portrayals of hell ever.

I think Charles Wallace as a baddie was one of my all-time favourite villains, his fashion was definitely on point at least.

#a wrinkle in time #sci-fi #scifi #science fiction #fantasy #science fantasy #film review #movie review #feminism #ava duvernay #Storm Reid #chris pine #Levi Miller #reese witherspoon #david oleyowo #deric mccabe #gugu mbatha raw #oprah winfrey #mindy kaling #rowan blanchard

[denial-island-spn]

*Late afternoon, Admin Island day 4 after Megs’ departure* *Rowena’s cabin is a hive of activity. Aside from Suzy, Gabe, Cas and Gadreel are gathered while Rowena works the final tweaks on her spell to catch the “divine karma” as it has been dubbed.*

Suzy:*Giggling nervously* You know, that’s surprisingly close to the original reference in Japan of “divine wind” which is what they called the kamikazes.  That’s kind of what this feels like for me.  Always liked that name; now I get to be one...*her babble isn’t lost on the gathered company*

Gabe:*Pulls her aside angrily*  You think this is a game, sugar?  It’s life and death-yours- if this plan goes even a fraction sideways!  I thought we made that clear already, and I thought you weren’t really looking forward to dying again! *his worry has made him lose control, and he can’t help but take it out on her even though a part of him recoils at the very idea of blaming her for anything*  Where the hell is Balth? He needs to get his ass here now! It’s gonna take all of us to control this thing and prevent-*he looks at Suzy, but she turns away, partly so she doesn’t have to see the tears forming in his eyes, but also so that he can’t see the fear and sadness in hers.*  *Emotion makes his voice harsher than usual.  He turns to the two angels* Find him and bring his ass back here now.  I don’t care what he’s doing! With a worried look between them, Gadreel and Cas disappear*

Rowena: A bit harsh on them, aren’t you? It’s not their fault their brother is a lush and a womanizer, now is it?  *Her smirk falters when she catches a look from Gabe that reminds her of who he is, and what he can do*  There, it’s done! *Holds up the egg shaped object, the symbols adorning the outside edge glowing with power*

Gabe: *reaches for the egg* I’ll take that. *Rowena pulls back, looking at him in amusement*

Rowena:I’m thinking you’re the one with a deathwish, archangel.  This was used on your brother; you don’t want to know what it can do to you.  She’s the one that must use it *hands the egg to Suzy* Remember, lass, the spell must be said as soon as the egg opens to draw the magic.  Once you start, you have to complete the spell, or it won’t work. *Looks Suzy in the eye, her hands covering the other’s* You can do this.  You have to do this. *Looks at Gabe* Just make sure you and your brothers do your part.  I’ll provide what help I can, but this job is upon the lot of you.*Turns and grabs a large bowl already beginning to smolder.* It’s time to get rid of that ink, darlin’. Turn around.

Gabe: *looking at Suzy in alarm* I thought you were going to have me take care of that. At. The. Right. Time.........

Suzy: *Sighs* Wasn’t sure I could count on that, considering your state of mind, Gabe.  Sorry *Turns around, thankful she wore something that didn’t require disrobing, as the other angels return all at once.* *Carefully, she sets the egg on the table in front of her, looking at Gabe, daring him to touch it.*

Rowena: No time like the present, since you’re all anxious to get this over with.  Now this will burn a bit, dear, just hold still *hands Suzy a leather strap* you can bite down on that; just don’t move. *Using a wooden brush, she begins painting the sticky green mixture over the tattoo.*

Balthazar:*crinkling his nose at the smell of burning flesh*  Are you certain there isn’t a less....barbaric way of doing this?

Rowena: No, there wasn’t.  The ink is more than skin deep, I’m afraid.  You couldn’t have simply zapped it away. *Suzy is sitting stock-still, eyes closed and jaw clenched around the leather, as sweat pours down her face.  It’s taking all she has not to scream; it feels like Rowena has slapped white-hot lava on her back. After a few minutes, the smell dissipates, and the goo has turned the consistency of dried mud.  Rowena brushes away the debris, and the tattoo’s outline is all that is left, surrounding a blistering red patch.  Quickly, Rowena slathers a cream over the burn, which then is completely absorbed, leaving an angry red scar that begins to fade before their eyes.*  There, done. The scar will fade with time, lass. You can relax now.

Suzy:*Sits up straight, spitting out the strap and taking a shaky breath.*  Thanks, Row. *Picks up the egg and looks at the others* Let’s do this...

[another-chorus-girl]

Farewell My Idol and Friend: A Phantom story

This is set after the events of the stage musical and is not a Love Never Dies story. 

Summary: The night before Christine is wed to Raoul, she receives an unexpected visitor from the past

Christine released a sigh, leaning against the closed door.

In less than twenty four hours, she would be a wife. And not only a wife, a Vicomtress.

Raoul had been making preparations for it for weeks. Christine had no idea so much work had to be put in for a wedding. Everything just seemed so prestigious and regal. The petite brunette always imagined her wedding would be the opposite of what it was to be tomorrow.

She dreamed it would be outside, by her father's house near the sea. A simple ceremony on the sandy beach, a handful of dear friends and loved ones there. And her betrothed smiling, awaiting her at the alter.

Tomorrow however was meant for a Vicomte and Vicomtress. It was being held at the St Gervais et St Protais church in the heart of Paris, the rows lavishly decorated in large flower arrangements and gold ribbons. There were to be so many guests, more than half of which Christine didn't even know. Her wedding dress was fit for a queen, large and lavish.

She had asked Raoul if there were any way to simplify the ceremony, even just a little. But he insisted it wasn't his decision to make. He agreed that he wanted to give Christine the wedding she wanted, but the De Chagny's would not stand for anything less than extravagant, especially for the youngest and future successor to the family name since Phillipe had died.

Christine sat down at her vanity table and sadly shook her head. She wasn't angry at Raoul, or love him any less. But as she looked at herself in the mirror, she barely recognised herself anymore. Her hair that she preferred to keep down and flowing was tied up, a jewelled pin nestled in it. The gown she wore was shades of magenta and cream colours, made of the finest silken fabric. And around her neck a fine gold necklace with tear drop shaped sapphires, her earrings matching it.

The sad woman staring back at Christine was a complete stranger. She missed the simplicity of her old life. Most of all she missed the opera, missed singing. Without music, a piece of her soul felt missing.

She had not set foot in the Opera Populaire since...

Christine closed her eyes, saddened even more at the thought of him. There wasn't a day that passed that she did not think of him. Angel of Music, Phantom of the Opera, Erik. Since that night she had not seen him again. The petite brunette had heard Meg's recount of the mob and lawmen locating the Phantom's hideout only to find his mask. But no trace of the man it belonged to.

Where was Erik now? Was he even still alive, or did he die somehow later that night?

Sighing she reached up, removing her earrings. She placed them back in the jewellery box on the vanity and saw something she didn't notice earlier.

On the table was a red rose, dethorned, a black ribbon tied to the stem.

Christine's breath caught in her throat. She whipped around, frantically scanning the room.

"A-Angel?" She gasped, standing as she walked through the room. Was he here? Where was he?

Then she realised something; the window was open. The silk curtains waved violently in the breeze. She walked up to the window, peering outside. But nothing-and no one-was out there. Christine shut the windows, the locking latch clicked closed.

"Chriiiiiiistiiiiine" A familiar voice cooed.

Christine gasped, her heart skipping a beat. She slowly turned, hardly believing her ears and eyes.

Erik was cloaked in black, blending in with the shadows. The white porcelain mask the only thing showing through the darkness. Almost a year had passed and he looked just the same as he had back then.

"My God..." Christine held her hands to her mouth, "You're alive"

"If you can call this wretched life of mine living." Erik remarked, "But to see you Christine, it feels a little less deplorable."

Her eyes welled with tears. Christine ran to him, wrapping her arms around him. Erik flinched, his breath catching in his throat as she cried.

"I thought you were dead Erik!" She sobbed, "I thought you were gone. Oh Erik."

Hesitently the masked man wrapped an arm around her, rubbing her back.

"Oh Christine. Shhh shh now, don't cry now. Please, do not cry for Erik," He soothingly whispered as she cried into his suit jacket.

They pulled away, Erik stared down at her.

"Christine, you are still so beautiful."

She smiled, "You haven't changed a bit Erik. How? Where have you been all this time?"

"After the mob raided my home, I knew it wasn't safe to go back-save for gathering a few possessions. My late mother's home was left untouched after her death. I took what I had and made refuge there," Erik explained.

"And I..." He paused, "I had learned that the union between the Vicomte De Chagny and Christine Daee was to commence tomorrow."

Christine stared up at him sadly, "Erik I-"

But he silenced her, "No Christine. I've not come to finish what I started a year ago down in the catacombs. I've come to terms that you will never love me...as...as I love you."

Christine heart broke hearing her angel's voice crack, trying to hold back raw emotion. It hurt to know how deeply he still had such feelings for her.

"Why are you here?" She asked, her outstretched hand grazing the edge of his mask.

"To say goodbye," He confessed, laying his hand overtop hers. "I know once you are wed I will never have any claim on you. And without you, without your music, there is nothing more for me here."

"Angel..." She whispered, tears welling up.

Erik shook his head, "Christine, why do you sound so miserable? You are to be a wife in a matter of hours. Yet before I entered, you looked so saddened."

"It's music Erik. I feel lost and empty without it. Raoul hasn't barred me from the stage, but he said once we're married it just wouldn't be possible for me to return to the stage."

Erik scowled, "He squanders your talent. You are meant for so much more than playing the part of a dutiful wife. Your voice is meant to soar like a songbird."

"I haven't sang since that night. Don Juan Triumphant was my last performance. I never told you Erik but I thought your opera, your music was so beautiful."

The Phantom's heart swelled hearing such praise from his protege and muse.

"You made it complete Christine. My song cannot take flight without you."

Reaching his hand up Erik gently removed the pin from Christine's hair. Her chocolate brown curls cascading around her face.

The simple gesture made Christine smile warmly at her maestro. She wasn't sure why she did it, but Christine let her fingers curl under the edge of Erik's mask. He shuddered, knowing what she wanted to do.

"I never thought to ask you to show me. I'm sorry for that Erik. But would you, just once let me see you?" She asked.

His teeth clenched nervously, but he nodded.

Christine removed to mask to reveal the twisted distortion he hid. This face that had caused Erik so much pain and torment. His voice was so beautiful and his mind brilliant, why couldn't his face match these qualities? Why was life so cruel to grace Erik with such a face?

His malformed lips trembled feeling Christine stroke the sunken flesh of his cheek.

"Does it hurt?" Christine asked quietly.

He meekly nodded, "My mask scrapes against my face sometimes, it irritates my skin.

"Where will you be going angel? If you are not staying in Paris?"

"I-I have not quite decided yet. There is a ship in Calais leaving the day after your wedding. I will be on it, but I'm not sure where it leads. But anything is better than staying in France, this place holds too many memories for me."

"Bad?" She looked away guiltily, she was partly responsible for what transpired a year ago, and felt at fault for Erik's pain.

"On the contrary. Horrible memories I can easily bury, I'm use to them. What I can't forget as easily are the few that brought me joy. Those thoughts, thoughts of music, harmonies, you."

Placing his mask back on, Erik adjust his suit jacket.

"I must go Christine, but there is one thing I would like you to have." Taking her hand gently in his, she felt Erik place something small in her palm. "I should hope you will keep it this time. But I understand if you choose not to."

Christine opened her palm to see a ring, the very same ring he had taken off and slipped onto her finger during Don Juan.

Opening the jewellery box, Christine picked through it, until finding a gold plated chain. Lifting it from the box, she slipped Erik's ring through it. Removing the sapphire necklace, she replaced it with the ring and chain, clasping it in place.

"I promise Erik, I-" She turned, but her angel was no longer there. She glanced around the room, The Phantom nowhere in sight.

Christine felt new tears well up in the corners of her eyes.

"Goodbye Erik," She said to the empty air, clutching the ring.

She sat there for some time before sleep was beginning to overcome her. She dressed down into her nightgown, removing the makeup she wore.

Lying in the large bed, Christine fumbled with Erik's ring.

"In sleep he sang to me,

"In dreams he came."

She quietly sang to herself, lulling to sleep.

"That voice which calls to me,

And speaks my name."

As Christine fell into her slumber, Erik watched her from outside the window.

"Goodbye Christine." Taking one last look at his sleeping angel, Erik leapt down, his cape like cloak whooshing as he landed. Slipping into the dark, moonless night, Erik slipped away from the De Chagny manor and where he had a carriage waiting just a ways away from the main gate.

"To Rouen," He called to the driver as the carriage sped down the dark trail.

#Phanfic #erik and christine #christine daae

[leavethehxrtbehind]

"I heard you were doing good." {from your short stories prompt a few pages back}

“I’m always doing good.” Her answer was accompanied by a smile, but the sweat on her forehead and the trembling of her hands contradicted everything she had just said. 

It wasn’t just Meg’s fault; she had been encouraged, and none other than by one Thomas’ closest friends. It had started off innocently—a little weed here and there, something to unwind with.

Besides, it wasn’t necessarily a lie. Meg had been through it all before, she’d come out the other side again. ‘Good’ had always been this for her. Maybe it was partly to blame on the fact she was terrified of the unknown of feeling. It was always such dangerous territory.

“Cigarette?”

#doubting-tomas #doubtingtomas #ask #answered meme #{Thank you!} #drugs cw #v; jcs #c; Thomas

[generalnerd]

share your pride day 13: when did you realize you weren’t straight?

I was more of an introvert as a 4th grader than I am now, mainly because now I have one good friend. throughout my life, I had a positive exposure to the LGBTQIA+ community. my parents had gay/trans friends and we went to pride every year. so anyways, in fourth grade, I had a lot of time to think about things, which is when I realized I didnt have crushes on boys and was a lesbian. I accepted it internally and stopped thinking about it until, when i entered middle school, i joined the student-led club called SAGA (Sexuality And Gender Alliance) where I came out and was accepted immediately. Boring, but positive! Also it was partly Kristen Stewart’s fault. And Sarah Paulson. And maybe also everyone in Ocean’s 8. Fine it was also Meg from Hercules. Fine fine fine fine It was mostly fictional assassins with swords and knives. But I didn’t recognize that until fourth grade.

#share your pride #day 13 #day thirteen #wlw pride #lesbian pride

[hollywoodjuliorivas]

We are hurtling toward a health-care disaster in the next 36 hours or so, for the worst possible reason. Cynicism is seldom completely absent from the operation of politics, but this is truly a unique situation. Republicans are set to remake one-sixth of the American economy, threaten the economic and health security of every one of us and deprive tens of millions of people of health-care coverage, all with a bill they haven’t seen, couldn’t explain and don’t even bother to defend on its merits. Why? Because they made a promise to their base and now they say they have to keep it — regardless of what form keeping the promise might take and how much misery it might cause. Tomorrow, the Senate is set to vote on a Republican bill to repeal the Affordable Care Act. What Republican bill? The senators themselves don’t even know. Here’s how Sen. Susan Collins (R-Maine) described it yesterday on “Face the Nation“: Read These Comments The best conversations on The Washington Post One-click sign up It appears that we will have a vote on Tuesday. But we don’t whether we’re going to be voting on the House bill, the first version of the Senate bill, the second version of the Senate bill, a new version of the Senate bill, or a 2015 bill that would have repealed the Affordable Care Act now, and then said that somehow we will figure out a replacement over the next two years. I’ve often argued that Republicans in Congress aren’t serious about policy, but this is taking their unseriousness to the level of farce. After complaining for years that the ACA was “rammed through” Congress — in a process that involved a full year of debate, dozens of hearings in both houses and 188 Republican amendments to the bill debated and accepted — they’re going to vote on a sweeping bill that had zero hearings and that they saw only hours before, because who cares what’s in it? It’s only the fate of the country at stake. If taking away health-care coverage from 20 million or 30 million Americans is what it takes to stave off a primary challenge from some nutball tea partier, then that’s what they’ll do. No one would argue that keeping promises isn’t important. But Republicans have elevated the idea of keeping their promise to repeal the ACA to the point where it’s drained of all substance. You can see it in the way they talk about the various iterations of their bill. You seldom hear a Republican defend it on the terms of the bill itself. They don’t say, “Here’s how this bill will bring down deductibles” or “Here’s how the bill will take care of those who lose their insurance” or “Here’s how the bill will lower costs.” That’s partly because their bills won’t do any of those things, but mostly because they just don’t care. Instead, what they say is, “We made a promise, and we’re going to keep it.” If Majority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-Ky.) handed them a bill saying that all children on Medicaid would be taken to the desert, buried up to their necks in the sand, and covered in fire ants, at least 40 of them would say, “It may not be perfect, but we have to keep the promise we made to repeal Obamacare, so I’m voting yes.” Play Video 1:34 The White House spin on CBO, annotated The White House recently released a video cataloguing suggested faults of the CBO's health-care analysis. Here's a Fact Checker corrected version. (Meg Kelly/The Washington Post) For those few Republican senators with a hint of conscience — or whose states are particularly reliant on the ACA, and on Medicaid in particular — McConnell is trying to hand them a fig leaf they can use to justify their votes. But the goodies he’s offering are laughable. Consider, for instance, that McConnell is telling senators that he’ll put in $200 billion to help states that didn’t expand Medicaid. Sounds generous, until you realize that’s on top of over $750 billion in Medicaid cuts. It’s like saying, “I’m stealing your car, but here, you can keep the spare tire.” The same is true of the $45 billion over a decade they’re tossing in to address the opioid crisis. Many of the states hardest hit by that crisis are ones such as Ohio and West Virginia that are most dependent on Medicaid. So for them, the Republican bill would take $15 or $20 away from the program most central to treating the addicts in their state, but toss a dollar back to make up for it. People who work with state budgets and addiction treatment have been telling anyone who’ll listen that given the magnitude of this crisis, $4.5 billion a year is a joke. But it might be enough to allow a couple of Republicans in the Senate to claim they aren’t making the problem dramatically worse, which is exactly what they’d be doing. What you’d expect of leaders is to say, “Okay, there are a bunch of interlocking, complex problems we want to solve here. This has to be done carefully. Let’s take our time and make sure we get it right.” But that’s not what Republicans are saying. Instead, they’re saying “We have to vote on a bill now, even if we don’t know what it’s in it and even if it makes the problems we claim to care about impossibly worse, so we can say that we repealed Obamacare.” Sure, it would be bad to kick 20 million or 30 million people off their coverage — but not as bad as having to admit they failed to pass a bill! This is even less serious and more cynical than what they’ve been doing for the past seven years. When they held dozens of votes in the House to repeal the ACA, it may have been silly, but at least it didn’t hurt anyone. Now they have the power to affect people’s lives by the millions — even destroy them — and they can’t be bothered to spend more than a day or two figuring out how to do it.