#that pining face again are they going to make him do this per episode
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A Clear and Present Threat of Tongue
Sooooo this idea shook me like a rag doll and wouldn't let me go until I got it all out, this is a Steddie Stranger Things New Girl AU taking place during the first kiss episode between Jess and Nick. But its waaay longer and more angsty than I anticipated. So.
Enjoy!
It’s all Gareth's fault in hindsight.
As his best friend and confidant, Gareth really should have taken Eddie’s feelings into account when he suggested a party out loud in front of everyone.
Not that the party was a particularly bad idea, parties had been prime money making opportunities in the years before - although that had certainly dwindled, what with the murder accusations and earthquakes.
And Eddie was trying to make it a point of avoiding dealing around the kids or Hoppers disapproving glare.
So no, it wasn't so much the party.
Steve had taken it upon himself to host, as per usual, and everyone had been invited. The gremlins, Nancy and Jonathan, Argyle, Gareth, Jeff, and Robin of course without question. Gareth brought Megan Walsh with him while Robin brought another underclassman, Vickie something, she seemed cool - a little quiet for Eddie's taste but that wouldn’t be the only reason she didn’t do it for him.
Nah, Eddie was looking for something a little taller, louder, with big brown eyes and plush pink lips he wanted to sink his teeth into and an ass that wouldn’t quit even if he begged.
And Eddie didn’t beg.
It was an end of summer pool party that had extended beyond the warm sunshine and moved into the main house when the last few rays had swapped for the cool twilight of the evening.
There had been no shortage of food and drinks and a few tokes in the garage from the decent Cali strain Argyle had brought with him. The kids had gone to bed one by one leaving the rest of them to move down to the basement as Steve had put it, ‘to keep the noise to a minimum while the little shits sleep’.
The combination of weed and beer had them floating in the sweet-spot, not that everyone had partaken - Argyle and Jonathan stuck to weed only while the girls nursed their beers.
Eddie, Gareth and Jeff were the only three that were on the floor and feeling alright by the time midnight had rolled around.
“We should play a game,” Gareth says, blurting out the words from his place on the floor, he’s grinning a little with glazed eyes and wild hair splayed around his head like a halo.
And this, this should have been Eddie’s first warning.
Now Uncle Wayne had a great rule, a fantastic rule, ‘Nothing good ever happens after midnight kiddo, remember that’.
Eddie should have listened to the old man.
Jeff hums lightly from the floor and Megan perks up at the idea, shifting up to the edge of the couch, trying to catch Gareth's glazed eyes.
"What kind of game?" She says, her voice lilting and curious, Eddie smirks and elbows Gareth in the side.
Gareth huffs out a groan at the contact and rolls slightly to level a glare at the metal-head, Eddie raises his eyebrows and darts his eyes from Gareth to Megan before raising a single eyebrow.
Go for it man!
Gareth cocks his head, a confused expression pulling at his brow as his red eyes pan from Eddie to the other side of the room and back again.
Nowhere near Megan.
Just as Eddie makes to turn to wherever Gareth is looking, a small grin blooms on his best friend's otherwise lax face, the bassist sits up with a groan and shakes out his own wild mane of curls.
"Truth or Dare?"
"Choice game brochacho," Argyle laughs from the loveseat he's laid out across, Jonathan nods with his eyes closed. Everyone seems pleased with the situation if the chorus of 'sure's', and 'sounds good,' is anything to go by.
Even Steve - who Eddie can’t help but notice has also stuck to beer most of the night and seems slightly tipsy as he wanders over from the far side of the room and drops onto the floor beside him.
Steve says a quiet, 'cool,' as he brings his one knee up to his chest to lean on.
He smells of spice and pine tonight and Eddie fights the urge to curl against him.
Nancy volunteers to go first and picks dare, surprising everyone except for Jonathan and Steve, who laugh as Robin stumbles her way through crafting the perfect task for Nancy to perform.
Vickie whispers into Robin’s ear which elicits a delicate blush that settles over Robin’s cheeks and ears as she settles back against the couch with a soft smile.
“We dare you to do a cartwheel!” Robin crows, laying out her palm towards Vickie who immediately gives her an unapologetic high-five, Eddie rolls his eyes and nudges Steve beside him.
“I expected better than that coming from Buckley,” he says just slightly over a whisper level if the death glare Robin shoots at him is any indication, Steve snorts and takes another sip of his drink.
“She’s just warming up Munson, you better watch out or you’ll paint a target on your back,” Steve stage whispers back, winking as he turns his attention to Nancy who has cleared a pathway next to their little circle to attempt her cartwheel.
Eddie swallows and tries to fight down the blush that threatens to creep over his face.
Fuck. He is so unfairly pretty.
Steve's hair is remarkably untidy this evening, and his ears are slightly pink from the alcohol, and his stupid perfect jawline makes Eddie want to bite something - preferably Steve.
He’s wearing one of his little polo’s, a light yellow number that accentuates his bright brown eyes and the dotting of moles and freckles dappling his face.
Oh yeah, Eddie’s a goner.
Nancy manages to half somersault and land on all fours before jumping to her feet in an Olympic pose that draws a mix of laughter and applause from the group. Eddie watches as Steve puts down his drink and politely claps as he smiles indulgently at Nancy, Eddie frowns slightly as he tamps down a flicker of jealousy that builds in his chest.
He misses Robin stand up and stride towards Nancy before leaning in to whisper in her ear with a predatory grin. Nancy’s eyes drift from Robin to Eddie and back again, she nods once and turns back to the group, her facial expression betraying nothing.
“Oh dude, you’re in for it now,” Steve murmurs to Eddie as Nancy and Robin resume their seats in the circle.
“What?” Eddie says as Nancy clears her throat and smiles at him, it's cutthroat and shark-like and Eddie is suddenly reminded why he’s always found Nancy intimidating.
“Eddie, truth or dare?” Nancy says in a silky voice, Jonathan seems to freeze at the tone and attempts to catch his eye, shaking his head like a mad-man and slicing a finger across his throat again and again, while Steve laughs softly beside him.
“Uh, Pft, Dare Wheeler,” Eddie says with a scoff and a wide grin, he stands up and starts stretching his arms across his chest, before cracking his neck and shaking out his shoulders, “just need to loosen up first here,” he claps his hands together, “okay what sort of gymnastics you got for me miss Nancy?”
Jonathan smacks his face into his hand in the corner while Robin giggles to Vickie, Eddie catches a few muttered words, but nothing concrete. Judging from the red face and ‘O’ shaped mouth that Vickie sends his way, it's definitely not good.
Nancy clears her throat and waves her hand to catch his attention again, “eyes this way Munson,” she says slyly, and Eddie is suddenly sweating.
“Eddie Munson, I dare you to take the person sitting closest to you into the spare bedroom for seven minutes in heaven.
No one says a word for a moment.
Eddie wishes for the basement floor to open and swallow him whole. He stares at the plush fibers of the rug, wondering if it would be at all possible to smother himself by pushing his face into the carpet.
He absolutely refuses to look at Steve.
The only person sitting beside him.
He should have listened to the old man.
***
Eddie paces the small space again and again, its five steps from wall to wall and it does nothing to ease the tension in the room. He tries to figure out how to tamp down the seemingly permanent flush that has stained his face since the two of them were pushed into the room.
The door has been unceremoniously slammed shut behind them and a chorus of eight voices chant, ‘Kiss, Kiss, Kiss!’ over and over outside their temporary prison.
Damn Gareth for suggesting this stupid game, damn Nancy and Robin for conspiring against him and damn himself for his ridiculous delusional fantasy.
Steve Harrington would never want to kiss someone like him, even if he did swing that way.
This was stupid and awful, damn everything.
Steve scoffs from his position on the foot of the bed, startling Eddie slightly.
“What is the big deal,” Steve sounds much more sober, and a lot more tired now that it's just the two of them, “lets just suck it up and french a little?”
Eddie nearly feels himself short-circuit at the words.
He resists the urge to smack his head into the door and slowly turns on his heel to face Steve.
His expression is bored, if slightly irritated to be stuck in this situation, but his arms are draped loosely on the bed and his shoulders are relaxed.
Huh. Not nervous then, but there is something else…
Eddie sighs and scrubs a ringed hand across his face, "Okay fine, but don’t say suck it up and french a little--"
"Do not complain to me Munson," Steve grumbles, his voice suddenly tight, "this is your fault. Let’s just do this," he shakes his hands out, Eddie notes the slightest tremor that runs over his left hand but it disappears the longer Eddie's gaze remains on it.
Fuck.
"Okay, okay, no, Steve this is not a big deal," Eddie says, his tone is light but gentle as he crosses over to the bed, he holds out his hands for Steve to take.
Steve's eyes travel from his hands to Eddie's face, and back again. His expression flickers once before shuttering into the same bored expression from earlier. Steve clasps his hands once and squeezes them briefly before letting go and standing up to face Eddie.
"Right…not a big deal, let's just do it," Steve mumbles as he breathes out, he closes his eyes briefly and Eddie's never been this close before, he can count the freckles on his nose, "just do it Eds".
Oh god, oh god, he’s about to kiss Steve Harrington, this is fine, it's fine. It’s just a stupid party game, he can do this, he can be cool.
Eddie takes a deep breath, and raises his hands to grasp Steve by the shoulders before smoothing them down his arms, he leaves them loosely wrapped around his biceps, and Okay who the Hell gave him the right?
Focus.
He licks his lips and swallows his nerves, he can do this, he can do this!
Steve frowns, “Why are you licking your lips?” his voice pitched with confusion.
He can’t do this.
“Should I not?” Eddie manages to say without stuttering, he coats his voice with false bravado as he rolls his shoulders and widens his stance, “you want dry lips Harrington?”
Steve scowls, “No”.
“Then I’m just licking them to make them better!”
A pinched expression blooms over Steve’s face at the sudden rise in volume in Eddie’s words, he resists the urge to wipe the clammy sweat from his hands and instead lifts them from Steve’s biceps to his shoulders before placing his hands on the sides of Steve's face. Eddie’s fingers curl up into his hair behind each ear and Eddie swears for a moment he can feel Steve tilt his head into his hands -just slightly.
“Ready?” Eddie murmurs, the earlier bravado gone as his eyes dart back and forth between Steve’s own. He’s looking just slightly up at Eddie, the barest hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Ready,” Steve affirms with a small nod that jostles Eddie's hands.
“Okay,” Eddie breathes out through his nose slowly, “1, 2 -- I’m actually not going to do a count,” he lets go of Steve’s face, it’s too much, it’s ridiculous and Eddie feels as though he’s about to fly apart at any moment.
Steve doesn’t move but his eyes trail after Eddie's hands as they fall from his face before coming back up to meet Eddie’s gaze, “Okay?”
Eddie swallows, it feels like glass going down, this is not how he saw his night going, “That's not my style, when I kiss, I don’t, I don’t count down…”
Steve snorts and smiles slightly, biting his lip as he says, “Okay”.
Eddie breathes in sharply as Steve releases his lip to speak, he shakes his head once and reaches out with slightly unsteady hands, to grip Steve’s face once more, “Ready?”
Steve nods again, “Yes,” he’s looking up at Eddie with those warm brown eyes and long lashes and Eddie feels like he's going to faint.
Just move, he thinks to himself, just kiss him and then he can leave, never darken the door of the Harrington house again. He can pretend this never happened and go back to pining from afar.
Eddie steels himself and tilts his head as he leans in slowly, he sweeps his thumb across Steve’s cheekbone, he can do this, he can do this. He continues moving forward as Steve suddenly rears back with a gasp.
There’s a slight tremor in his voice, as Steve says, “I’m, I’m sorry, you can’t do that…”
Eddie jerks backwards, “What did I do?” he cries out, he flings his hands away from Steve’s face, holding them up in something akin to surrender. He wracks his brain, running through the last thirty seconds, trying to think of what could have freaked Steve out this badly.
“Your fa-” Steve starts before clamping his mouth shut with a sharp click. He’s curling in on himself now, one arm slides up from his side to grasp his other arm.
It’s Eddie’s turn to stare.
“Were you, were you going to say my face?” Eddie says quietly, stepping back from Steve entirely, his now empty fists clench and unclench at his sides. There’s a flicker of anger an hurt in his chest, what the fuck did that mean?
They stare at each other for a moment, Eddie waits for Steve to elaborate but all he gets is a silent grimace.
“Yeah,” Steve says weakly, after a beat, his eyes anywhere but Eddie’s own, “you just…you can’t do that with your face dude”.
"Don’t call me dude right now," Eddie growls, breathing in deeply through his nose, this whole situation has been fucked from the start and he can't take it anymore. He's done.
“Okay, yeah, okay,” Eddie mutters before crossing the space to the closed door and pounding the flat of his palm against it, “Let me out of here!”
Behind him, Steve sighs as he moves over to the wall of the spare bedroom and slides down it until he’s seated with his legs splayed out.
But Eddie doesn't care, he doesn't. He had prepared himself for this, he knew Steve wouldn't possibly feel the same way and now it was definitive.
That didn't stop it from stinging.
Eddie growls as he tries for the handle again and the brass does nothing but rattle rather than turn.
“Why does this door lock from the outside? That can’t be safe,” Eddie mutters to himself as he turns away from the door to face Steve once more, he leans back against it and breathes out a sigh as the chorus of, ‘Kiss, Kiss, Kiss’ renews itself with vigor just outside.
Steve sighs again and raises both hands to rub down his face before dropping them heavily to the floor on either side of him, he stares at the wall for a moment before his expression flattens again.
He looks up at Eddie with determination in his eyes before bringing his legs up to stand.
“Okay,” Steve says softly, as he steps towards where Eddie is leaning against the door, “let’s just do this already, just kiss me--”
“No.” Eddie firmly huffs, he crosses his arms in front of his chest and nearly knocks his head against the door as he realizes there is nowhere else to go, “I don’t--I’m not gonna kiss you”.
Steve pauses in his approach, he seems so much smaller than normal, and Eddie hates every moment of this.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?” Steve says quietly, he reaches up to pinch the tip of his nose and clears his throat, “you said it yourself, it’s not a big deal. If you don't want to do this that's, it's fine, you know how stubborn they are, I don't think they meant to lock the door--”
“I can’t--” Eddie cuts across him but Steve is still talking.
“I’m sorry that you got stuck with me,” Steve bites out, running a hand through his hair as he steps backwards now, away from Eddie, and sits on the end of the bed, “and I’m sorry that I got all weird just now, but--”
Eddie just can’t take it any longer.
“No Steve,” he says shrilly, not caring if the assholes outside the door are listening, not caring if the Loch Nora neighbors can hear him, not caring if the kids upstairs wake up, “It's, I just can’t, not like this!”
It takes a second for the words to register, they seem to float between them for a moment before each man registers what’s been said.
Steve stills on the bed, he doesn’t even look like he’s breathing, “What,” Steve says softly, “what, what does that mean?”
Oh Fuck.
“Nothing,” Eddie blurts out, his heart is racing, the air is stale and thin in the basement bedroom and Eddie feels like he can’t breathe, “I didn’t mean it like, I just, we can’t like that because it's not, you know?”
Steve stares at him from the bed, “...what?”
Eddie has to leave, he can’t be in this room anymore, pinned to the door by a pair of soft brown eyes that have pinched in the middle into a confused and terrible frown.
“If you’ll excuse me,” Eddie says quietly, briskly walking past Steve and the bed as he moves towards the far wall with the single window.
“Where are you going? Eddie!”
For the second time that night Eddie finds himself wishing he had listened to his old man.
Attempting to climb out the window of the basement spare bedroom may not have been his best plan; as he hoisted himself up to the ledge, which was already up a good five feet at least, and popped the screen off, deaf to whatever words Steve was hissing at him, Eddie found himself sitting halfway in a window-well.
About two feet from the open ground above.
And that was before his studded belt caught on the window ledge.
“Fucking hell,” Eddie grits out as he shifts backwards only for the belt to wrench him back into place, no, no, no, this couldn’t be happening.
He hears a sigh behind him along with a low string of curses as quiet footsteps move away towards the far side of the room. Seven knocks sound on what he can only assume is the door in a strange pattern that halts the chant from the basement sitting room. A muffled voice he can’t quite make out says something that Steve responds to.
“Open up the goddamn door Buckley or I’ll never cover another morning shift again, we have a situation in here,” he says in a small, defeated voice.
It all happens fairly quickly after that.
Between Jeff, Nancy, and Argyle’s careful maneuvering they manage to extricate him from the window and lower him back to the floor. Nothing had prepared Eddie for the hot, tight feeling that would fill his chest as Argyle and Jeff snicker and high-five once he is back on solid ground. Nancy is smiling but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes as she looks from Steve and back to Eddie, expression slowly morphing into one of concern.
Robin is standing with Steve, both of them lean against the far back wall by the now open door. They seem to be having an intense whisper fight that ends with Steve storming out back into the main sitting room.
Argyle knocks into him, suddenly draping an arm over Eddie’s shoulders and snatching his attention away from Robin and Steve. He herds Eddie forward on slightly unsteady legs to follow the rest of his rescue party as they all make their way out of the spare bedroom.
“That was freakin’ hilarious dude,” Argyle says with a warm laugh and bright, slightly hazy eyes, “I mean Steve, Steve, he tried to climb out the window instead of kissing you, can you believe that?”
Steve stiffens from his new position on the loveseat but shakes his head after a beat and laughs; the sound rings hollow, a pale imitation to his usual beautiful laugh, “Eh, Robin just gets to add another tally to the ‘You Suck’ board, that’s all man”.
Argyle laughs and claps Eddie’s shoulder lightly one last time before moving towards Jonathan and Jeff, the trio grab a lighter from the coffee table and head back upstairs for another toke.
Robin and Nancy go back to join Vickie on the couch, their heads bent together in conversation, both girls looking up at Steve from time to time.
Steve, meanwhile, is steadfastly staring at the floor.
I’m an idiot, Eddie thinks miserably to himself as he takes a seat on the floor next to Gareth who doesn't seem to have moved since his suggestion of Truth or Dare.
"Hey man," Gareth says, turning his head slightly to see him better, "how'd it go?"
Eddie says nothing, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers; he wants to tell Gareth about how much of a disaster the night was, how he's ruined everything way more than he could ever dreamed of and he still didn't get a kiss out of it.
"That well huh?" Gareth hums as he sits up and brings his legs in to sit cross-legged.
The party has wound down significantly at this point, Steve has disappeared from the basement and Nancy has loudly announced she is leaving if anyone needs a ride home. Robin and Vickie trail after her with Megan not far on their heels, she sends an irritated glare their way, most likely directed at Gareth more-so than himself.
"Weird," Gareth mumbles, dragging his arm across his eyes clumsily, "I figured that would'a worked, with all the puppy-dog eyes he's been givin' you lately".
"What, uh, what?" Eddie says sharply, he must have heard him wrong or the weed has finally gotten to them, Gareth did not--
"Oh man, yeah I figured the Truth or Dare would totally give you an opening dude, you seemed on board?"
Eddie's heart is racing now, his palms sweaty, what the fuck is he talking about?
"I mean you should've seen Harrington's face when you went in, all sunny an' shit, it's that Doe face you're always talking about--"
"Gareth!" Eddie hisses, his face burning and shoulders tight, he stands up startling the other man as he paces the now empty sitting room.
He takes a deep breath and then another, bringing his hands up to press into his eyes roughly.
"Okay, okay, so you're telling me," he says slowly, dropping his hands to his sides, "that you think Steve, Steve Harrington," he points a shaky finger to the ceiling, "is in to me?"
Gareth blinks, his eyebrows slowly climb into his wild curly hair, "Uh yeah dude".
He says it like it's the simplest thing in the universe. One plus one is two, the sky is blue, and Steve Harrington has feelings for one Eddie Munson.
And suddenly, the words from earlier, the brittle broken sentence Steve uttered in their temporary prison, makes much more sense.
"I’m sorry that you got stuck with me".
Steve thought Eddie had been stuck with him?
Steve thought Eddie had been stuck with him?
The soft looks, small touches, and blinding grins, each tiny moment over the last few months tumble and fall together.
Oh God…
"...I am an idiot," Eddie whispers as he turns on his heel and makes his way to the stairs.
"Yeah! Get him dude!" Gareth calls after him as he flips back into the plush carpet with a laugh.
Eddie wanders the dark main floor, tiptoeing through the living room, avoiding a sea of sleeping bags and pillowed heads of the kids as he goes, there is a faint light ahead of him coming from the staircase to the second floor.
He makes his way up, careful to avoid the fifth stair as, 'it always creaks,' and the last thing he needed was Dustin, or Max, or, Ozzy forbid, Mike, interrupting.
Eddie maneuvers down the familiar hallway, and halts when he gets to Steve's room. The door is slightly ajar and, at last he’s found the source of the soft yellow light spilling down the hall and stairwell.
Eddie tips the door open, wincing at the piercing creek of the hinges as it slowly swings open revealing Steve sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. He doesn’t look up as Eddie steps into the room.
“Hey Stevie,” Eddie says softly.
He stuffs his hands into his pockets, suddenly unsure how to proceed, and awkwardly stands in the doorway, the wall to wall plaid threatens to burn his retinas but he holds firm.
There are a few things in here Steve has clearly placed himself, the plush area rug covering up most of the chic parquet flooring running through the rest of the house. A new yellow duvet that clashes with the red plaid wallpaper, but it's Steve's choice for once. The picture of the car has been replaced by a small cork board, it's covered from top to bottom in Polaroids of Steve and the kids, candids of Robin and Eddie, posed silly pictures of Jonathan and Argyle after a smoke session, and a few of Nancy and Jonathan sitting in the Byers kitchen at Thanksgiving, almost collage like but for the pins holding them in place.
The room has transformed over the last few months, and it never ceases to make Eddie smile.
“Hey Eds,” Steve sighs after a long beat.
He looks up to meet Eddie’s gaze, that same blank expression from earlier tonight painted on his otherwise handsome face.
Eddie swallows, his heart rate ticking up once again as soft brown eyes hold him in place, if he chickens out again he swears he'll fling himself down the stairs, creaky step be damned.
He opens his mouth only for Steve to speak, slowly, quietly.
"I'm sorry," Steve murmurs, his voice cracking around the words, "if that was weird today, for you".
Eddie manages to keep his face impassive as he nods, but his heart aches at what he hears, “Yeah, I mean, no it wasn't weird, just…”
Steve sits with his shoulders squared and his spine straight, stiff and still even in his own bedroom, but with each word that leaves Eddie’s mouth the line of his body slowly begins to curl in on itself.
“Just, different”.
Steve nods as his arms come up to wrap around himself again, he swipes his right hand up his bare arm up to the sleeve and down again and Eddie wants nothing more than to wrap him up in his own arms.
Steve eventually puts his hands on his knees with a muffled clap and stands up, padding across the carpet towards the door, towards Eddie.
"Well that's not the worst thing someone's called me so I'll take it," Steve says with a smirk, his big brown eyes pan between Eddie's own as though searching for something, he nods to himself.
“Oh yeah?” Eddie ventures, leaning against the open door frame, linking his ankles together as his weight shifts to one foot.
He can’t have this, someone as kind and funny and good as Steve saying these things, thinking that Eddie thinks them too.
Enough is enough.
Steve snorts, tipping his face down. A lock of hair falls into his eyes and once again, Eddie's fraying resolve finally snaps.
He pushes himself off the door frame with his shoulder, stepping into Steve’s space, and reaches out with one hand to card his fingers into Steve’s hair, pushing it out of his face.
Steve freezes at the sudden touch and proximity, "What, Ed-"
The words are lost as Eddie leans his head down and captures Steve's open lips for a kiss.
He feels Steve stiffen slightly in his arms.
Shit.
Eddie moves to pull away, cursing his own stupidity, but as he tries to pull away, Steve curls his arms around Eddie's neck and tilts his head, stepping closer into his arms.
And it's fireworks. It’s hearing Dio for the first time all over again, it’s finding out he was going to be staying with Wayne permanently. It’s jamming out with Gareth and Jeff and losing themselves in the music.
It's Steve.
Eddie brings his hands up to curl over Steve’s cheek and into his hair once more, he brings his fingers into tangle with the soft waves and gives them an experimental tug, startling a small moan out of Steve.
Eddie smiles into the kiss and takes the opportunity to lick into his mouth, letting his tongue slide over Steves, he tastes slightly like beer but Eddie doesn’t care because he’s finally kissing, and kissing, and kissing him.
Eddie breaks away after what feels like an eternity, leaning away just far enough to place a small kiss on Steve’s nose and both cheeks, which have slowly turned a pretty pink, the arms wrapped around his neck tighten slightly at the contact and Steve’s eyes flutter closed.
“I meant something like that,” Eddie whispers before leaning in again, swallowing a laugh that escapes Steve with another soft kiss to his smiling lips.
"I thought," Steve mumbles, chewing his bottom lip with harsh teeth, "I thought I messed it all up downstairs," the words are wet as Steve sniffs once and tips his head onto Eddie's shoulder.
Eddie slips his hands down from Steve's face to bring him in closer, wrapping his arms around his waist, "you didn't mess anything up, I've been wanting to do that for a long time,” he whispers in Steve’s ear, earning a hitching laugh.
“Me too Eds,” Steve mumbles into the fabric of his shirt, he pulls back slowly and tips his head up to meet Eddie’s gaze, “I think, I’ve been wanting to do that since you woke up in the hospital”.
“Sorry I took so long sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs against his lips, a smile tugging at the corners of his own.
Steve hums and closes his eyes before running his nose back and forth against the tip of Eddie’s own, “Well,” he says softly, “I can think of a few ways you can make it up to me”.
Eddie laughs brightly and kicks the bedroom door shut with a snap.
Maybe his Uncle Wayne wasn’t always right.
#steddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#steve x eddie#eddie munson pov#stranger things season 4 au#new girl au#Stranger Things! New Girl AU#I basically took a bunch of dialogue from the episode where Nick and Jess kiss for the first time and turned it into this monstrosity#this turned out way longer than I intended and way more angsty#first kiss#steddie kiss#some angst#happy ending#afewproblems writes#stranger things#mutual pining
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I don't want him to know who you really are. The old you has already been taken, so I don't want him to take the current you, too.
#kanojo wa kirei datta#she was pretty#jdramaedit#akaso eiji#koshiba fuka#jdrama#mygifs#swp gif#ep 03#that pining face again are they going to make him do this per episode#its just so heartbreaking each time#as expected from someone of sonnu's caliber#eiji akaso#kanokire
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Like Real People Do. Chapter 9
*Gif not mine*
Masterlist
Rating: M
Words: 3.2k
Warnings: Kinda nsfw talk(not really tho) violence
Request: OPEN/CLOSED
A.N: Only an epilogue left guys! thanks for going on this journey with me and making me remember my love for writing. End of chapter based loosely on season 4, episode 3. and even then it’s what I remember. I didn’t feel like rewatching the episode so if you see any inaccuracies, you didn’t. Much love, Cia
Chapter 9: We should just kiss
You and Spencer have been dating for almost a year now. Or as he would put it and 10 months 29 days and 4 hours.
After your first night together, you woke up and headed directly to headquarters after a minor detour to shower together again per Spencer’s request. That ends up making you a little more late than you wanted to be so you end up ignoring your coworkers, making a beeline for hotch’s office.
“What’s that all about?” Derek asks as he watches the two of you enter Hotch’s office, shutting the door.
“They’re probably going to tell Hotch they’re dating.” Emily says, not looking up from her file.
“What?” Derek says at the same time as Garcia says “You knew?” He looks at Garcia incredulously, “Knew?”
“Sorry, I was sworn to secrecy. But I only found out a month or so ago.” Garcia shrugs. “How did you know?”
“Come on, I'd be bad at my job if I didn’t notice the immediate pining looks change to smiles.” She laughs, giving Derek a pointed look. “I had suspicions but they were confirmed when she snuck out of our hotel room in Arkansas last month.”
“Plus did you see that football sized hickey on her neck just now?” JJ adds, inducing a laugh from the group. The two of you came back to the group then after a very awkward conversation with Hotch that he kept staring at your neck for. You thought you did a good job covering it but apparently not enough because as soon as you walked in he just reached into his desk drawer handing you both the office relationship form with a simple ‘Don’t let it get in the way of work.’
“What’s so funny?” You ask.
“Nothing important.” Emily smiles. “Congratulations though.” She says, nodding towards your hands you didn’t realize were joined together. You both flush, immediately letting go of each other.
-------------------------------------------
You meet Diana around month 6.
You end up with a case around Reno at the time and Spencer asks to stay an extra day to visit his Mom. Hotch approves the both of you to stay behind, assuming you are going with him.
“You don’t have to, Y/N.” he says, nervously. “You can go back if you want.”
“Well, what do you want, dear?” You ask, looking up from the book you were reading. “Because, I’d love to meet your mother but only if you’re ready.” you emphasize to him. You knew how protective Spencer was of his mother and you were aware of her diagnosis. You’d understand completely if he wanted to wait to introduce the two of you.
“No, I want her to meet you. I just, never thought I’d be in this situation.”
“What do you mean?” You ask.
“Being in a relationship.” He says. “Loving someone enough I want people important to me to also love them. I just never thought it was in the cards for me.”
You look at Spencer with a soft expression. Despite how he was sometimes with you, you could tell Spencer wasn’t the most confident. You would never understand why, you loved him. You couldn’t even imagine not wanting Spencer in your life.
You sit your book down and level him with a heavy look “Come here.” You say, from your position on the bed. Spencer, not needing much convincing immediately lays on top of you. You proceed to show him exactly how much you love him that night.
The two of you walk into the care facility hand in hand. You’re immediately greeted by the front desk nurse. “Spencer!” She says, happily. She immediately takes note of the joined hands and smirks. “And who is this?”
“This is Y/N, my girlfriend.” He says, smiling brightly. You instantly extend a hand to shake the woman's hand. “I was hoping to introduce her to my mom today. Is it a bad time?” He asks.
“No, honey, she’s having a good day today. She’s reading in the common room if you’d like to head back.” Spencer nods his thanks before leading you back there.
Spencer scans the room quickly before landing on his mom, she gives him a bright smile. Spencer immediately speed walks towards her, pulling you in tow, you practically have to jog to keep up.
“Spencer.” She immediately holds her arms out, Spencer letting you go to hug her.
“Hey mom.” He says, he turns back to you, and you're standing awkwardly waiting for him to introduce you. “Mom this is--”
“Dr. Y/N Y/L/N.” She cuts him off, smiling at you.
You reach your arm out to shake her hand, which she mainly just holds for a second before releasing you. “It’s very nice to meet you, ma’am.” you add.
“Diana.” She corrects before turning to Spencer. “Your letters were right, she’s very pretty.” She smiles at the flush that spreads across both of your faces.
The three of you sit and make small talk, updating Diana about your lives separately and together. Eventually, Diana speaks up. “Spencer, why don’t you go talk to Dr. Callahan before you go. I’m sure Y/N doesn’t mind keeping me company.”
Spencer looks at you hesitantly, you nod at him. “We’ll be fine. Go.” You smile, he smiles back at you before heading out the conference room.
You and Diana sit in comfortable silence for a minute before she speaks “Your nails are such a pretty color.”
“Thanks!” You say, before adding excitedly. “I keep the polish in my bag, I can paint your nails if you want.” You say before rummaging in your purse pulling out the aforementioned polish. She smiles and nods at you holding out her hand to you. You instantly got to work.
“Do you always carry around polish?” She asks.
You shrug. “When you’ve got a job like ours you have to. Guns aren’t really kind enough to not chip your polish.” You laugh, she joins you.
“This is nice.” She says. You tilt your head, questioningly. “Girl talk, I never got it with Spencer. And frankly, I never thought I would.”
You smile. “Well, I’m not going anywhere Diana, so you can get your girl talk from me whenever.” You chuckle, she laughs with you.
“He loves you, you know that.”
“I love him.” You look her in the eyes so she’d know you were being genuine. “Spencer is the best thing to ever happen to me and you raised a wonderful son and partner.”
She looks at you misty eyed, patting your hand affectionately, before letting you get back to work. You’re talking and laughing so much the two of you don’t even notice Spencer watching the both of you in the doorway of the common room with a smile on his face.
----------------------------------------------
Spencer accidentally meets Persephone at 9 months.
You had gone to your college roommate’s baby shower which had taken longer than you thought so you asked Spencer to go to your apartment to feed Garbage. Upon entering he heard noise in the kitchen, he didn’t see your car out so he knew it wasn’t you. He pulled his gun out to investigate and well…
That’s the story of how Spencer almost shot your godmother.
When you came home, you walked into the sight of Spencer and your godmother sitting around your table having tea.
“Persephone!” You say, surprised. She’s instantly up from her spot at the kitchen table, hugging you tightly. “I thought you were still in Tibet.”
She smiles at you. “No, dear. I’ve decided to go to Puerto Rico and help with hurricane relief. I thought I’d take a brief detour to come see you but ended up running into Spencer here.” She turns and smiles at him before leveling you with narrowed eyes. “Who you failed to mention in your letters.” She says, with a pointed look.
“I’m sorry, Phone.” You say, “Life’s been hectic, I just couldn’t find the words. But this is Spencer.” You say walking towards him, settling in the seat next to him. “My boyfriend.” You settle your hand on top of his, he squeezes you in return.
Persephone was very much the opposite of your mother. She had long dreads fashioned with gold beads and shells tied back typically with a bandana. She believed in spirituality, often trying to read your palm or tarot most of your life and you always found her meditating or doing yoga when you would come home in your teenage year. She was a free spirit that didn’t match your mom’s strict demeanor and regime at all.
Yet they were best friends.
Having met in college and your mother being forced to tutor her in economics, the pair quickly became lifelong friends eventually making her Maid of Honor at her and Noah’s wedding and Y/N’s godmother. She had taught Alice how to loosen up and Alice taught her many things like caring for others before herself. After her passing, Persephone dedicated her life to helping others as well as raising Alice and Noah’s daughter. Not that much ‘raising’ went on, you were a very independent child. Just like your mother.
Persephone sits and has tea with you guys for a while before announcing her flight is leaving soon. The two of you offer to take her to the airport but she refuses your offer so you opt to just walk her out.
“It was nice to see you, Persephone.” You say, hugging her as she leaves.
“You too, sweetheart.” she says, before leaning to whisper to you. “Hold on to that one, He seems to keep you balanced.”
“Trust me, I am.” you smile.
---------------------------------------------------------
Fights happen. Just like with any other couple.
When you first move in together at 10 months they happen a lot as you adjust to each other's habits. Like Spencer never hanging up his towel or you leaving your makeup on the bathroom sink. But you get used to it as you get used to each other.
Sex is good, great even. You’d never been with a guy who was so intuitive of your body. He treated you like you were a puzzle he had to solve every night. Finding new ways to get you off, what you liked, didn’t like, what made you mad. Sometimes he’d just tease you for hours until you were begging for his cock. Sometimes you’d push his buttons all day just so as soon as you got home, he’d lay you on the nearest surface and fuck you until it was hard to walk the next morning. Sometimes he was brutal, leaving bruises you weren’t aware were forming at the time and most times, he was doting. Treating you like you were the most fragile yet most important thing in his life because, well, sometimes you were.
The nightmares never stopped. You were foolish to think now that Spencer was in your bed every night they would. You’d wake up gasping most nights, thankfully not waking Spencer, then you’d make a cup of tea to calm yourself down before joining him back in bed. Some nights, you’d wake up screaming. For your parents, Spencer, anyone. He’d wake up then, instantly cradling you in his arms while you sobbed into his bare shoulder.
Thankfully, it doesn’t affect your work like you thought being an open couple would. If anything it made you work better together which is why Hotch sent the both of you on this case today. You were to go undercover as social workers to investigate what you believed to be a cult.
You were interviewing some of the children when the first shots rang out and you two and the social worker you had come with were ushered in a tunnel underground with the other women and children. You were trying to keep your cover and remain calm but you couldn’t help but look at Spencer in worry. The woman you had come in with had been shot and it was starting to look like Waco in here. Spencer was looking back at you with the same look, praying this wouldn’t be the last moment you had together because you couldn’t hold each other like you wanted to.
The leader came in later with his goons storming up to you and Spencer. “You know, I just heard something real interesting on the news.” He said, casting a dark look to the both of you. “That there are two FBI agents being held hostage inside. Now, imagine my shock when I saw that because as i was told by the two of you, there was only one and that she was dead on the floor. So…” his goons leveled their guns at you. “Who is it?”
Though you hadn’t necessarily shared your thoughts with Spencer, you’d hoped he came to the same conclusion you had regarding the man’s profile. He was a narcissist and charismatic sure, but he was violent and willing to do whatever it took to get his way. You also knew he wouldn’t kill a woman. Sure, he’d hurt and maim but you knew if he found out Spencer was an agent, he would kill him, no hesitation.
You knew what you had to do.
“Me.” you said instantly “It’s me.” Spencer tries to not blow the cover you just gave him but he looks at you with a shocked pained look. “I’m Agent Y/N Y/L/N.”
The man’s goons look at him for instruction. He gestures for them to lower their guns and you think for a second you’ll be fine. But then the man is gripping you roughly by your hair dragging you out the room by your roots while Spencer watches in horror.
The first hit takes you by surprise, it shouldn't have, you knew it was coming as soon as he dragged you into a room alone. It was best to not fight back so you just became his punching bag. You knew the team had to be listening to what was happening to you, you knew they’d risk the whole case if it meant getting you out of danger. You needed a way to let them know you were fine.
“I can take it.” You say, to the air really. “I can take it.”
“You can take it, huh?” The man grabs your hair roughly again before landing another punch.
-------------------------------------------------
You were now captive alone in a room. Of course you’d prefer not to be but if you were comparing rooms you’ve been captive in at least the digs here were sweeter.
You’d found a way to get in communication with Derek, with you moving the blinds with your boot to speak and him using morse code. You were suddenly thankful for that weekend Spencer got bored and forced you to learn morse code because now you knew there was a bomb and they were planning on setting it off with everyone inside.
You had to get out, but more importantly you had to get these women and children out first which made you try to break down the woman who was checking on you’s defenses. You knew she was the one who made the call to social services in the first place. You knew you could get her to do the right thing if it meant protecting the children. So you made her aware of your plan, get the women and children back into the tunnels and out of the compound before all hell could break loose.
You could really only hope Spencer was holding his own.
--------------------------------------------------
Spencer had made it out just barely in time and not in the best of shape that didn’t stop him from immediately looking for you. He searched around frantically until his eyes landed on the woman he knew made the 911 call, corralling a bunch of children. He approached her hoping she knew something.
“The agent he took earlier. Where is she?” he asked, panicked.
“She came with us but we lost one of the toddlers she ran back inside to get him. I never saw her come back out.” She said sadly.
Spencer’s eyes leveled back to the burning building trying to keep his tears at bay. He was a scientist, he knew the odds if she had truly gone back inside considering where the blast was located she couldn’t have survived. He choked as heavy sobs racked through him, turning away from the building because he couldn’t watch the sight of something that had taken the love of his life. He was so distraught he almost didn’t catch the melodic voice behind him.
“I’m sure we can find you a new stuffed lamb, honey.” You say to the 5 year old cradled in your arms. There’s a reason you're not a firefighter. You were not cut out for the running into burning buildings business, you felt fine but you were sure you’d be coughing up black for days. You approached the back of the ambulance. “Can you go with this nice man for me? He’s going to make you feel all better, alright?” The child nods shyly into your neck before you hand him off to the EMT. You look around before your eyes land instantly on Spencer, who looked like he’d been crying. You couldn’t help the stray tears they fell from your face as you jogged (well, limped) towards him. He instantly wrapped his arms around your waist letting you cling tightly to his shoulders.
“Are you okay?” you ask.
“Am I okay?” He says, incredulously. “Yea, I’m fine Y/N. Are you ok?” He says, you nod.
“A little sore but I’m fine.” You wipe the stray tears from his face. “What’s wrong?”
“They said you ran back in. I- I thought--”
“I’m not.” You assure him, knowing what he was about to say. “I’m alright, Spen.”
“Marry me.”
That makes you stop in your tracks. You look him in his eyes, they’re soft and genuine looking back at you. “What?” you say.
He reaches into his jacket's upper pocket, producing a ring. “I was going to wait until our anniversary, I was going to take you back to the planetarium and rent it out so we could have it to ourselves. I had a whole idea but considering how you like to scare me every couple months with a near death experience.” You chuckle slightly at the annoyance in his voice. Before he looks back at you with so much love and admiration. “I can’t live another second without you knowing I want you to be my wife so…” He gets down on one knee. It’s not at all how you pictured your proposal, definitely not with cop lights flashing and ambulance sirens, and the smell of burning wood. But because it’s Spencer. Because it’s you. And because you’re both still breathing and alive. It’s perfect. Just like everything always seems to be when you’re together. “Will you marry me, please?” he asked again.
“Yes.” You say. “Of course.” You add laughing. He slips the ring on your finger and doesn’t even feel like extra weight on your hand. In fact it feels like for the first time in your life, it’s right. He sweeps you into a bruising kiss. You don’t even notice the team watching and smiling, misty eyed. Only thing you notice is the comforting weight of Spencer near you and how in that exact moment the world feels still.
Taglist: @haylaansmi @yoruebeautiful @kianagilder-blog @l0ve-0f-my-life @bihoeofmanyfandoms @dreamer7black @baby-banana @drreidshands @blameitonthenight21 @slyskyeey @liaabsurd @di-essere-amato @oliviamaerose @nightlygiggless @eevee0722 @april-14-blog @dilaudidwinchester
#spencer x reader#spencer x reader smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer x you#spencer reid x you#criminal minds#bau x reader#spencer reid x reader smut
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thoughts on ep 14 (true beauty)
i cannot wait for this nightmare to end
the fact that Jug’s bro and Gowoon were a thing only for Seojun to get the message to move on, rubs me the wrong way so bad. BECAUSE THEY STILL DIDN’T LET HIM DO THAT! why do this whole thing then??
the subplot with teacher and big sis also wasted so much time for nothing, i hope they are happy but is it worth so much screen time? for side characters when nothing is resolved??
don’t get me started on the family Columbus thing, it’s so useless, why are we doing this??
and those montages... no one cares. not a single soul. we watched the drama, we know those scenes, we can use our imagination, we don’t need 3 montages per episode. at this point i am sure that the writers are the one with amnesia and they just write stuff as they go and forget about everything that happened.
Suho being clingy and getting love lessons again, I’m glad Taehoon told him to stop being stalkerish, we are finally getting self-aware here. but again, the dream thing? useless. and repeated. we already saw this dream thing happen with Jug. originality has left the chat early in this kdrama.
SuSeo jiu-jutsu moment is beautiful. the instinct vs skill thing perfectly shows their personalities and it was a blessing in this god awful ep.
the whole smackdown. AGAIN. we preach about violence but still have them fight it out? is this the way she was supposed to stand up to them? they are just going to pick up on someone else, problem definitely isn’t solved in any way.
Kang Soojin, sweetie, I’m so sorry. they did you so dirty. they build her character to do 180 and break her and make her bad in the dumbest way possible. I know i’m repeating myself but it makes no sense for her to act this way. She would gain absolutely nothing either way.
everyone against Sua... she has the right to be hurt, she was lied to and kept in the dark for a long time, wouldn’t you feel hurt? she didn’t stop talking to Jug because of her face, she needed time to process what happened, she was lied to by both her best friends and she lost on in the process.
now onto HAN SEOJUN THE ONE GOOD THING IN THIS HELL. why can’t they let him go and move on. WHY have this whole thing about Jug’s bro moving on when you reel his heart back AGAIN. WHY does his heart have to suffer so much. he has to see Jug and Suho tell each other how they feel and he has to be the rock for Jug when Suho’s not there? WHY is he suffering through SPICY TTEOKBOKKI AGAIN?? WHY IS HE THE COMFORT FOR JUG. WHERE IS HIS COMFORT?!! who is looking out for his feelings??? he is not some comfort animal. make it stop already. WHY does he have to wait 2 years to get rejected (and he better be rejected because I am not here for some stupid rebound thing). he is better than this, he deserves to shine bright and stop pining for a girl that needed 14 eps to say thanks for one of the n-th amount of things he did for her behind the scenes. His wish was wasted on meeting up with her to tell her he is moving on, just to suffer spicy food and get his hopes up? catch me ready to fight the writers in a parking lot.
the whole preview can just disappear from existence. they started time skip 2 minutes into the end?? and bring suho back next ep??? he just can’t be kept away for a second too long huh. they make them sorta break up just to add emotional value? while Seojun gets to get his hopes up yet again and finally spell it out for the most oblivious person in the existence? I can’t do this anymore, I just need this to end.
#true beauty#all my pent up frustration went into this rant#i am sorry to anyone that reads this#han seojun#lee suho#kang soojin
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PROFOUND MEMBER MASTERPOST FOR NOVEMBER 2020!
Featuring Destiel/Gen works by jscribbles, Jeanne_de_Valois, tiamatv, LeafZelindor, prosopopeya, DragonSgotenks, sketching-fox, kittimau, castielslostwings, FriendofCarlotta, universalsatan, Idjit_01, Destielshipper4Cas, purple_charlie, Maleyah, noeizumispn, kitmistry, TheSongSmith, one_more_offbeat_anthem, interstitial, JusithAndronicus, ArielAquarial, queer-things-do-happen-dean, goldenraeofsun, andimeantittosting, and starprincecas.
Join us on Discord!
Masterpost below the cut.
jscribbles - jscribbles
I’ll Go With You (G, 4.7k)
A coda to 15x18 "Despair".
He hadn't said anything. He hadn't said anything when he'd been given the chance.
Tags: 15.20, reunion, grief, love confession
We Are Real (M, 2.4k)
Smutty sequel to I'll Go With You.
Dean hadn't kissed him yet.
But they were alone now, and free.
Tags: 15.18, smut
404 Error (G, 500 words)
How hablo espaniol?!!
I DON'T KNOW. Neither does Dean.
Tags: spoilers for 15.18, based on spanish dub, crack fic
The Weight of Silence (E, 26k)
The weight of silence is heavy on Dean's shoulders as he learns to live a new kind of life in Heaven. In classic Winchester-style, despite being in a place that isn't supposed to have pain and suffering, Dean rebels against it by being straight-up fucking miserable.
Tags: depression, mentions of john winchesters garbage parenting, canon compliant, 15.20 fix it coda, happy ending, smut, romance, love confessions
~
Jeanne_de_Valois - Jeanne_de_Valois
Free Bird (G, 1.7k)
Heaven is an open road and not having to pay for gas.
Heaven is a greasy sandwich and a novelty-sized candy bar.
Heaven is awkward, shuffling, confusing.
Heaven is getting to say what you wished you said, a lifetime ago.
(A Coda to Supernatural 15.20- Carry On)
Tags: Post-Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Requited Love
~
tiamatv - tiamatv
Stone and Flesh (E, 6k)
Dean didn’t think, even in his filthiest imaginings, that Cas would sound like this in bed—loud, eager, easy with it. He doesn’t give a fuck who hears him enjoying himself. Though maybe Dean should have known. It’s not like Cas has ever once held back on anything he ever wanted to say or do—
Didn’t he?
(Not quite an episode coda for S15e18 per se, but more a "what comes after.")
Tags: AU - canon divergence; Post-Episode S15e18: Despair; Canonical Character Death; Selectively Mute Dean Winchester; Hopeful Ending
Domestic (T, 5.6k)
A little less than a year after the world doesn’t end, he and Cas get married.
Tags: AU - Canon Divergence; Future Fic; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Domesticity in the Men of Letters Bunker; Kid Fic
Bight (E, 2.5k)
“Do you want more?” Cas asked, against Dean’s thigh. His thumb strummed gently at the soft, folded-up pocket behind Dean’s bound knee.
It tickled, but… didn’t.
Dean didn’t know what the answer to that was.
Tags: AU - Canon Divergence; Rope Bondage; Gentle Dom Castiel; Sub Dean Winchester; Praise Kink
~
LeafZealindor - @leafzelindor
Artwork for “break to let the light in” DCBB2020 (SFW)
Artwork draw for the DCBB2020 fic "break to let the light in"
Tags: fluff, touching, intimacy. Accompanied by fic by PeppermiintsPlease.
~
prosopopeya - prosopopeya
Like Real People Do (G, 4.9k)
Castiel experienced a moment of pure happiness, expecting it to be his last.
It wasn't.
Tags: Post-15x18, canon divergence, first kiss, angst with a happy ending, first kiss
Under the Same Sun (E, 14k)
In which time is infinite, and so is the list of people willing to help Dean figure out what to do about Cas.
A fix-it for a lot of things: Dean's repressed bisexuality, Dean's utterly inexplicable failure to realize what Cas meant, the Charlie & Dean brother/sister content I crave, among others.
Tags: Internalized biphobia, Charlie Bradbury & Dean Winchester, angst with a happy ending, post-series, Heaven fic
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DragonSgotenks - DragonSgotenks
Say Cheese (E, 50k)
Dean Winchester is thirty, flirty, and thriving, or at least that's how his best friend Charlie describes him. Either way Dean feels pretty good about his life. He has a decent job, a nice house, and a great group of friends and family. Sure his brother's been living hundreds of miles away to attend law school and an internship, and yeah maybe he wasn't working his dream job, and so, okay, he spent most nights zoning out in front of the tv alone but that was fine. Dean was fine. Until he gets a call about a daughter he didn't know existed and suddenly Dean's quiet (boring) life is turned upside down.
Castiel Novak is a photographer whose passion lies in capturing the beauty of nature. However to pay the bills he works part time at the mall doing portrait photography. Sure it might not be as artistic as he'd like and his odd hours make for a dull social life but he's still doing what he loves. He especially enjoys doing the kids photos and over the last couple of years he's built a bit of a reputation for always getting the shot no matter how unruly or stubborn a child might be. So when a handsome father brings in his grumpy little girl for pictures Castiel thinks it will be just another photo shoot.
He's wrong.
Tags: Destiel, Single parent Dean, kidfic, bottom Dean/top Castiel, mentions of childhood trauma, eventual smut, past Lydia/Dean
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sketching-fox - @sketching-fox
Dean Winchester Monster Fucker (NSFW)
Arts done for Dean Cas Big Bang in my partnership with LoversAntiquities.
Tags: alleyway, impala, mature content. Accompanied by fic by LoversAntiquities.
~
kittimau - @kmauspn - kittimau
Beg Pretty For Me (E, 5k)
“Cas…” His eyes flutter closed, mind slipping into the warm, pleasant haze of that special place, the one that allows him release, relief. Peace. Heart pounding in his chest, he fights the temptation to touch himself through the delicate material because Cas hasn’t told him to yet and he wants to be good.
“I want to hear you say it, Dean.”
“Fuck…” He swallows thickly. “Yeah. I- I feel beautiful.”
Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Phone Sex, Light Dom/Sub, Dean Winchester Wears Panties, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Masturbation, Dom Castiel/Sub Dean Winchester
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castielslostwings - @castielslostwings - Castielslostwings
Loud (G, 4.3k)
Minutes, hours, days, years might have already passed—time is different here, and Castiel has no way of tracking it, and still the Shadow doesn’t come.
Castiel sits, he stands, he walks and walks and walks and walks. All he ever discovers is more darkness, more nothing.
Tags: 15.19 coda, alternate 15.20, canon fix-it, carry on fix-it, canon-compliant, love confessions, the empty, coda fic, the profound bond
Carry On (E, 8k)
“I think I’ll go for a drive.”
This is what happened between that moment, and Dean meeting Sam on that bridge.
(A 15x20 missing scene/fix-it fic).
Tags: 15x20 fix-it, Carry On coda, love confessions, castiel and dean are in love, first kiss, first time, reunions, Heaven improved, dean gets the funeral he deserves, missing scene
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FriendofCarlotta - @friendofcarlotta - FriendofCarlotta
The Novel (E, 4.5k)
Dean, Cas, Sam and Eileen are happily retired and living their best lives. There's just one problem: Sam has decided to commemorate the Winchester brothers' adventures by writing a novel, and it's not very good at all.
AKA the episode coda where 15x20 was nothing more than Dean reading a draft of his brother's first novel and becoming increasingly appalled.
Tags: Coda, Episode Fix-It: s15e20 Carry On, Technically Canon-Compliant, First Kiss, Top Cas/Bottom Dean
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universalsatan - @universalsatan - UniversalSatan
Mortal One, With The Sun in His Hands (E, 135k)
Cowhand Dean Winchester is notorious for risky gambles, rightfully proud of his horse Impala (who has the prettiest speckle in the West), and is stubbornly certain that his life is in apple-pie order. His comfortable existence crumbles apart when he's saved from a fire-and-brimstone death by a mysterious wanderer he discovers to be the infamous White Bandit, mythical Angel of the Desert. While his savior is as fearsome as the legends say, Dean can't help but draw closer to the quiet and endearing man the real Bandit turns out to be... even if he doesn't yet realize they're the same person.
This time, Dean may have to reach out to the flame instead of recoil.
Tags: Western, Historical Fantasy, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Cowboys, Plot-Heavy, Hurt/Comfort, Dean Winchester is Bad at Feelings
Graphic Depictions of Violence, Explicit Sexual Content (Censored Version Available). Accompanied by art by Artmetica.
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Idjit_01 - Idjit_01
I’m not gonna say that I’d change it cause you and I know that we can’t (T, 1.3k)
After Lisa's goodbye speech to Dean in 6x14, Dean gets drunk and calls Cas.
Tags: Episode: s06e14 Mannequin 3: The Reckoning, Alcohol abuse/Alcoholism, Canon Divergence, Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt No comfort, yes both
game over (try again, please) (G, 887 words)
After Case and everyone else's departure in 15x18 Sam and Dean sit and talk. (And yes they discuss Cas's confession)
Tags: Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Suicidal Thoughts, Canonical Character Death, Good Sibling Sam Winchester
There’s blood on your face. (Beer and Nightmares) (G, 1.4k)
Dean wakes up pretty badly shaken from a nightmare. He struggles with it. He goes to the kitchen for a beer, but Cas and Sam are there. In the end, thanks to Cas's shenanigans, he doesn't even remember the nightmare.
Tags: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Teasing, Touch-Starved Dean Winchester, BAMF Castiel (Supernatural), Sam Winchester Is So Done
Help(less) (T, 1.9k)
Everyone Chuck took away is back and are doing normal life again. As there are no monsters and everyone around him has someone else, Dean's on his own and feels awful. So he drives away and makes several questionable choices.
Featuring: Dean, a missing angel, a moose, Baby and a frankly abused forest
Tags: Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Grief/Mourning, Vomiting, Eating Disorders, Suicidal Attempt, Canon Compliant, Canonical Character Death
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Destielshipper4Cas - @destielshipper4cas - Destielshipper4Cas
The Alpha Next Door (E, 36k)
When Cas is placed in WitSec, he gets a fake secondary gender designation to go along with his new name, ‘Jimmy.’ All he has to do until the boss of the omega trafficking ring he escaped is behind bars is keep a low profile, always apply his alpha scent, and not fall in love with an alpha. Well—two out of three ain’t too bad…
Dean has never had a crush on an alpha before. Along comes his new neighbor, Jimmy, an alpha who is alphasexual. There’s just something about him, and to his utter confusion, he finds himself falling for an alpha for the first time in his life.
Tags: Past Rape/Non-con, Strangers to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Omega Verse
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purple_charlie - purple_charlie
Walk Through Fire for You (T, 2.3k)
Boyfriend.
The word still feels foreign in Dean’s mouth, still brings back echoes of John Winchester’s thinly-veiled (if even that) homophobia. "Man up, don’t be a sissy, I didn’t raise a fairy". It’s a swollen blister in the back of Dean’s mind, throbbing with pain whenever a stranger’s eyes linger too long on Cas’ hand in his, whenever a waitress double-takes at how close they sit in diner booths.
But here, dirty dancing with Cas in a warehouse full of other queer folks, Dean wants to shout from the rooftops- I’m Dean Winchester, I drive the baddest car in town, I lift heavy things for a living, and this is my boyfriend.
Tags: Homophobic parents, homophobic siblings, bisexual Dean, Gay Cas, Pride, marijuana use
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Maleyah - @maleyah-givemetomorrow - Katherine_Kat
Art for In A State of Perpetual Disrepair (SFW)
Art for my fic, In A State of Perpetual Disrepair, a hurt/comfort A/B/O Destiel fic.
Tags: fanart, A/B/O, hurt/comfort, Alpha!Cas, Omega!Dean
Start of Time (G, 754 words)
Except he never expected to be awake for the aftermath.
You see, he can hear Dean's prayers.
Tags: Castiel POV, Despair, Hope, Coda 15x18, post episode 15x18, Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts
We’re Not Gonna Take It (T, 1.4k)
Amara gestures at Dean calmly. “Have you been praying lately by any chance?”
Dean flusters and stammers, hands at his hips to give himself an attitude, while his eyes flick from her to Sam and Jack insecurely. “N… No.”
Tags: Coda 15x19, Post episode 15x19, Fix It, Dean's dirty prayers, Dean Prays to Castiel, Angel Wings, Wings, First Kiss
Drive (M, 1.5k)
Dean's prayers take a turn for the sensual, which drives The Empty to the brink.
Tags: Coda 15x18; post episode 15x18,, Dean Prays to Castiel, Dean's dirty prayers, Angel Wings, Wings, First Kiss, Fix-It, Slight Crack
Now That We’re Dead (M, 2.5k)
“You got everything you could ever want or need or dream. So I guess the question is… What’re you gonna do now, Dean?”
Looking around, he doesn’t know how to answer that question. The obvious is suggested when she turns out to have made it to Heaven too. Dust dances in the air around Baby, shining in the sunlight, tempting him to go for a ride. The endless stretched out road and horizon.
He blinks a few times, slow and owlish.
And right there, his shadow falling long and dark, almost touching Dean’s feet, is Cas.
OR: the one where Cas gets the love he deserves
Tags: 15x20 coda, Fix It, First Kiss, human!Cas, Heaven, Heaven happy ending, Canon divergent from the moment Bobby says "Cas helped", Fix-It
I Wanna Live, Not Just Survive (M, 3.9k)
“Dean Winchester,” Cas drawls. “I did not go to The Empty, so you could get yourself impaled.”
Or: the other one, where Cas and Dean get to be what they deserve.
Tags: coda 15x20, Fix-It, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Earth happy ending, Because let's not bury our gays, First Kiss, Cuddles, Hurt/Comfort
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noeizumispn - @noeizumispn
Colors (SFW)
Art inspired by Misha's words on Cas' wings
Tags: Rainbow, colors, destiel, wings
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kitmistry - @kitmistry - Kitmistry
Don’t You Cry No More (T, 4.8k)
There has to be something, he told himself the first night he pulled an all nighter, only to wake up with his cheek smashed against a book, dark circles under his eyes, a throbbing headache, and nowhere closer to the answer than when he started. The light was still on above his head. He didn’t bother turning it off.
Or the one where Dean doesn't die, but he searches for Cas instead.
Tags: Fix-It, Coda, Episode: s15e20 Carry On, Post-Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending
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TheSongSmith - TheSongSmith
Four Seasons (G, 754 words)
Cas is the owner of Four Seasons Total Landscaping, and he received a very curious call on a quiet Saturday morning. Dean owns the adult shop next door, and is very confused by what's going on. Good times are had by all, except Donald Trump because fuck that morally-bankrupt tangerine.
Tags: Four Seasons Total Landscaping, Destiel is Canon, 2020 is a dumpster fire so have this fic, twitter made me do it
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one_more_offbeat_anthem - one_more_offbeat_anthem
So Comes Snow After Fire (G, 11k)
Cas was old, like old-old, like ancient, like here for the beginning of the goddamn cosmos old, like remembers rain being invented old, and he could be anywhere, but instead he was in Dean’s kitchen (well, the bunker’s, but no one else cooked--Jack and Cas were kind of clueless when it came to that stuff, and all Sam made was health food), reading The Hobbit aloud to Dean while Dean himself made them all spaghetti.
(or, they got their win--the biggest win of all--and now autumn is settling in. a nearly-human Cas plants a garden, and Dean helps him along.)
Tags: Post-Canon/Canon-Divergent, Domesticity, Getting together, Fluff and comfort, Gardening Castiel
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interstitial - interstitial
Thirst Was Made For Water (T, 5.9k)
Cas is hit by a truth spell. The results are unexpected.
And maybe just a tiny bit funny. Unless you're Dean.
Tags: Dubiously Consensual Courting Behavior, Mildly NSFW Art Included, Profanity, Crack & Fluff, Truth Spells, Animal Transformations, Canon Divergent After s7e17 The Born-Again Identity, Light-Hearted and (Relatively) Wholesome For These Trying Times
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JudithAndronicus - @judithandronicus - judithandronicus
Up We Go (E, 4.9k)
A coda fic series for 15.18.
Tags: Grieving, Canonical MCD (temporary), Alcoholic Dean, Angst with a Happy Ending
The Kindness of Ravens (E, 7.5k)
Crackfic wherein ravens pooping on Dean lead to feelings realization and eventual smut.
Tags: Fluff, Crack, Feelings Realization, Diners
The Ampersand Chronicles (G, 1.3k)
This is unrepentant canon-adjacent Bunker fluff, set in a universe where everything is kind of the same, except fluffier. Cas lives in the Bunker with Sam and Dean; things like Gadreel and Lucifer aren't a problem; and oh yeah, there's a cat.
Tags: Fluff, Bunker Fic, Kittens
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ArielAquarial - ArielAquarial
Boyfriend Blues (G, 1k)
“I have a boyfriend!”
It came out of nowhere. One second Dean was shoveling a truly amazing pork roast into his mouth, already planning the meat to mashed potato ratio of his next bite, when Claire opened her mouth and his fork was clattering to the plate. Cas stopped mid-bite to stare at her while Jack, completely oblivious, continued making a Jackson Pollock out of his potatoes and gravy.
Tags: Parenthood, Domestic Fluff, Married Life, Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Kid Claire Novak, Kid Jack Kline
Extra Credit (E, 4.2k)
“Hey, babe. Who has the kids?”
“Mr. Winchester…” Cas rumbled, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms across his chest. “You’re cutting it close. My office hours are almost over.”
Dean frowned at him, confused. That didn’t even remotely answer his question. What did he—
Oh…
Oh!
Or, the moment Dean has been waiting for has finally arrived.
Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Husbands, Professor Castiel (Supernatural), Mechanic Dean Winchester, Sexual Roleplay, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Anniversary
Never in a Million Years (G, 2.5k)
If someone had told Cas six years ago that he was going to be a happily married man with two kids, he would have laughed. Now, with Dean by his side, he couldn't imagine things being different, even if the path to get there had been a little rocky.
Tags: Domestic Fluff, Holiday Traditions, Alternate Universe, Established Relationship, Backstory, Bickering, Married Life
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queer-things-do-happen-dean - @queer-things-do-happen-dean - Latter_alice
Tangerine, tangerine (E, 1k)
“So it’s – It’s really nothin’, huh?” Dean swallows and tries to blink away the wetness in his eyes. His gaze don’t weaver from the road. “No, uh, key words ring a bell? Chuck? Angel tablet?” He pauses, flicks his eyes over to Castiel and back. “... Leviathans?"
When Dean pulls Cas out of the Empty, not everything comes back.
Tags: Canon divergent, post series, memory loss
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goldenraeofsun - @goldenraeofsun - goldenraeofsun
Symmetria (T, 4k)
When all’s said and done with Chuck, Dean takes his time getting used to his new gig as capital D Death. Billie, of course, did not see fit to leave him a training manual. But with his brother-turned-God on his side, and Jack as the new Darkness, they all muddle through.
Finally, all that's left is to rescue Cas from the Empty.
Tags: 15x18 fix-it, alternate post-series AU, Death!Dean, God!Sam, Darkness!Jack, love confessions, first kiss, minor Sam/Eileen
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andimeantittosting - @andimeantittosting - andimeantittosting
We Are (M, 699)
15x18 coda. When they get Cas back, because they do, because somehow, someway, sometimes good things do happen, Dean...
Tags: Reunion, Resurrected Castiel, Requited Love, Happy Ending
Carrying On (G, 794 words)
15x20 coda. Dean dies and goes to heaven. But then he wakes up.
Tags: Fix-it Fic, Djinn, Happy Ending on Earth
Two Inches to the Left (T, 2.5k)
15x20 coda. Something tells Dean to stop by that bridge, so he does. The last thing he's expecting is for a pair of Vespas to pull up and Becky Rosen to tell him that he's still in Chuck's story. Finally, it's time to write his own.
Tags: Fix-it Fic, Temporary Character Death, Happy Ending on Earth, Fangirls Save the Day
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starprincecas - @starprincecas - cuddlesandcas
so it goes (T, 1.4k)
The Empty comes to collect.
Tags: Major Character Death, Episode Tag: s15e18 Despair, Angst
no more waiting on tomorrow (T, 739 words)
For all that they’ve finally won once and for all, the victory feels hollow.
Tags: Episode Tag: s15e19 Inherit the Earth, Fix-It Fic
#dean winchester#castiel#destiel#deancas#spn#profound monthly masterpost#profoundnet#november masterpost#member fic#member art
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Binged The Owl House in one sitting recently and besides the interesting chemistry Luz has with Eda being such a rough around the edges mother figure catching my intrigue and Eda & Lilith’s very complicated sibling history between each other, another highlight of the series that struck a serious chord with me would have to be Amity Blight’s character arc and her development thus far.
In its first several episodes the way Amity acted caught my interest. Particularly her interactions with Luz in early episodes gave me the idea that she was raised to be an arrogant student not only due to the stereotype of magical natural talent she was born into that was expected by her peers, but also that she had an abusive upbringing, much like Pacifica Northwest from Gravity Falls. However, what sets Amity apart from Pacifica’s much harsher attitude in Season 1 is that she isn’t as intense as the latter was per say to the main character of their own respective series anyways. Amity in the Covention episode lashes out at Luz when she’s faced with the reality that Lilith had amplified her magic powers in the Witch’s Duel against Luz, showing her serious insecurities and visible regret for how much she’s had to sacrifice up to this point, like say her close friendship with Willow, to achieve what she’s been forced to believe is the “correct” path. This is more than just being upset at what happened in their Witch’s Duel. It’s Amity showing the years of regret she’s been bottling up and seeing that it hasn’t made her feel any happier about the choice of reluctantly following what her parents demanded the kid follow. Mae Whitman’s performance really nails that.
Pacifica took until Season 2 of Gravity Falls to actually start really socializing with Dipper & Mabel Pines, but Amity here is more than willing to interact with Luz from the get go, despite how much of snobby attitude she tries to carry at first. Even so much as encouraging and in a sense compliment Luz, too. Amity makes a strong first impression of being a kid with a lot on her plate emotionally to deal with, as well as lingering regrets of turning into what she is currently. The writers did an impressive job of hitting this right spot that while Amity can be a jerk, she isn’t without her moments of moral clarity either in Owl House’s starting round of episodes. That’s never an easy thing to accomplish in writing like this. It’s no wonder Amity started to have an eventual romantic connection with Luz, given that no matter how much of the odds are stacked against her capabilities, she still aspires to be what resembles her inner desires and that’s something Amity was robbed of in early childhood. Luz’s unwavering determination is bringing out the best in her conflicted nature as a blossoming aspiring Witch. That’s why she broke the Everlasting Oath between them at the end. Amity’s respect for Luz was beginning to grow toward her optimistic nature.
Human’s don’t have magical capabilities, but I doubt that will stop you.
Soon afterwards we get to see another big hint laid out of Amity’s family background and how that reflected upon the kid’s emotional growth in the episode, Lost In Language. Amity’s older siblings, while nothing like her parents, do like to tease her a lot. So much so, they wanted to go the extra mile and make copies of her private diary to not only get back at her uptight attitude, but also teach her a lesson about lightening up as a person and spread those copies around school, which Luz doesn’t take that idea too well. That was when the notion really started to cross my mind more that Amity most likely had very tough parents that contributed to her stunted emotion issues. There’s clearly makings of a troubled family life that stirred up Amity’s behavior into becoming this cold, emotionally distant, and harsh character. Quite a few poetic seeds are planted throughout Lost In Language’s story that surround Amity’s character and the kid herself comes to a realization that she needs to be better.
I saw that human girl again. I may have overreacted. I don’t want to come off as cruel. I just can’t show weakness.
I’ve been trying to figure out what your deal is. Are you a poser? A nerd? I know... you’re a bully, Luz.
Why are you doing this!? I’ve been reading you since I was kid! I know you’re not like this! Someone changed you!
Maybe you’re not a bully. I haven’t exactly been the friendliest Witch, either. I’ll think on that...
All of this comes to a headway in my favorite episode centered around Amity’s character, Understanding Willow. This story hit all the right notes for me on what a character’s redemption arc should be like. The emotional payoff between Amity & Willow’s dramatic tension against each other is terrific, as it shows both perspectives are empathetic. You feel for Willow getting turned down so badly by her best friend and being led to believe that she wasn’t good enough for Amity. However, you feel for Amity too because she only turned away Willow to save her from never being able to attend the same school since her parents threatened to pull strings to have their way, giving this a bittersweet new light over Amity’s conflict with Willow. Regardless, this doesn’t take away from Amity’s actions either that are brought into question by Willow’s emotional manifestation of raw anger. Amity may have been manipulated by her parents that much is greatly true, but who is to say she couldn’t have eased up on Willow after cutting her off as a friend? Amity’s parents aren’t obviously always around, so whenever she was at school Amity could’ve simply not just paid her any mind at least, instead of going above and beyond to mock Willow as a late magical bloomer with help from her so called friends too for years no less. That’s what made this episode around Amity a real stand out. Amity understands that she gets a fair share of the blame for treating Willow the way she did and could’ve made things easier for her former friend at school, as well. This particular statement from Amity’s deep remorse spoke to me.
That line, “I was too weak to be your’s...”, made me tear up because I’ve had my own fair share of being a shitty person to an old former friend I used to speak to years ago before having a nasty falling out with him. Granted, he was toxic toward me and did some nasty stuff, but I also returned that toxicity back at him, which only added more fuel to the fire between us and ended the friendship on bad terms. I did email him months or so later to clear the air giving my sincerest apologies, regarding being so awful toward him after seriously reflecting on it afterwards and went my separate ways from there. The point I’m trying to make here is I understand Amity’s pain of hurting someone you once had as a friend and feeling so terrible after the fact. This is where I grew to love Amity’s arc because even after she’s apologized for all the crap she put Willow through, she doesn’t look for forgiveness, but only wants her to know the painful truth.
Amity’s one of my favorite characters from Owl House for how well they tackled the idea of someone who was once close with someone, but had a falling out, due to an abusive upbringing that had a negative affect on their personality.
Can’t wait to see more of her development in Owl House’s future.
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In what season and episode did you realised that Destiel went from subtext to actual text?
Difficult question really. I don’t exactly have a magic switch of some weird personal set goalpost I have, and frankly, wasn’t even really a shipper, just defended shippers, until... 13.5/6. I think I started slipping after 12.19 because I’m not a moron, I don’t live under a rock, I have eyes and know what the fuck a mixtape means to Gen X. But I kept it at arms reach because even Carver era was so totally subtextual-- atop all the stuff that got cut S10 after the S9 blowout, I didn’t exactly want to invest myself as much as point out shippers weren’t crazy for seeing what they saw, especially S8/9+ and even prior the resonance of the hero’s journey over our entire human civilization and historical othering of queerness made earlier readings or notices of it completely fair even if not really like, directional by the crew?
But to begin, Carver era was when I saw /intentful and meritful construction of the body of text, via subtext, to subtextually tell a story with classic queer coding./ Because a lot of what this fandom calls queer coding makes me want to hide my face behind a quantum hole of facepalms and is often like, pretty much the reverse of what should be advocated or considered. All those retro old “he’s been written as queer from S1″ make me want to kick puppies or something because oh my god it’s Not Good, most of the content there is Very Bad And Hugely Problematic, and it’s an attempt to retroactively prove what old canon was doing without any substance.
Carver era was the shift to substance, but silent substance. Subtext that’s genuinely thematically scaffolded into the storyline in a way that while the events themselves were largely cued on subtext, consideration of that subtext was critical to understanding the full body of text and people that refused to grow into and adapt with that text as the tone shifted are the ones that got more and more confused and angry.
Dabb era was the threshold crossing into (often low-visibility) text. Fandom intentionally arguing points that require complete removal from social structures (which is everything from regional meanings of major symbols, social codes, language, or why-letters-mean-things) doesn’t mean shit doesn’t mean what it means. A mixtape isn’t subtext any more than getting on one knee and popping open a box is subtext even if they don’t verbalize the words. We know what these fucking things mean and anyone who doesn’t is in DESPERATE need of going outside and experiencing the real world before making any kind of social commentary on a body of text.
When it comes to dialogue text, Last Call is where Bi Dean or at least Queer Umbrella Dean was textualized. Again, it doesn’t matter if people don’t understand the long argued history that was put to bed about repeat sexual encounters with men, it doesn’t matter what the gender of the other triplets were, literally none of that matters. It doesn’t matter if the person understands it. It doesn’t matter if they know their queer culture enough to know their arguments were already buried. It is what it is.
There’s this disillusionment that unspoken physicalized shit like kissing or sex, or verbalized ones like “I love you,” but “I love you, in a gay way, specifically and only you, and want to be romantic with you” because every other statement of the like so far has people crying or arguing about it as not enough either.
These things are nice, but it is not the only way to deliver a textual romance. These are things we want and deserve, and people aren’t wrong for wanting them, the only wrong comes in deleting other text because it isn’t the style of text they want. 100% unhelpful.
Text in AV is complex. No matter how decontextualized people try to pretend this all is, throwing pasta at the wall and calling it an argument worth validating, AV media study doesn’t just incorporate social codes on shit like dialogue -- though anyone that applies those social codes wouldn’t be arguing anyway, as per my old post on that -- but visual language and TV literacy are a long studied topic and are just as relevant as understanding of textual/verbal language and having textual literacy. People trying to eschew these in the interest of favoring fanspaces to try to keep them equal within the canon, which is NOT what fandom space equality is supposed to be about, is just... lol.
When that soap opera reporter that doesn’t even watch the show wandered in commenting on the full mise en scene of the 15.03 breakup being classical “Dark Point in the Romance” framing, that’s not subtext. In a book, characters aren’t running around on a blank canvas. Their environments are the text.
What people may draw symbolically out of an environment varies, and if someone’s /interpretation/ holds up, that’s fine. But being able to digest the entire presentation of a work, that is to say, to read an entire scene in a book and understand their setting and the relevance of that setting is simply a form of text. And when literal fucking randos can spot classic cinematography, it’s time to consider what the full cinematic framework is telling you both in incremental minutiae of texts and in the full body of work.
So basically, I acknowledged lowkey text based on the most basic understanding of social codes, by 12.19, even if I was still kinda eyerolling about it. By 13.5/6, Castiel returned to Dean in something later echoed by Eileen for the zoom shot, but the rest of the arrangement was verbatim identical to the original ending of Swan Song with Lisa, with the only difference being “Never too late” wasn’t a verbal line, but an entire sound track they applied to highlight the scene.
Despite the Swan Song parallel ending reactives went up in arms about the fact that they weren’t having big romantic moments anymore and kinda failed to wrap braincases around the fact that the endgame reunion that was literally the ORIGINAL endgame shot, which ALSO didn’t include physicality (in fact, the text read, “this isn’t sexual at all. He’s a lost soul, and she’s his home” in the script for Lisa), and this dumbass fandom would go “SEE PROOF THAT MEANS THE TEXT MEANS IT WASNT SEXUAL AND HE JUST BECAME BEST FRIENDS THAT WAS HER BEDWARMER MAYBE SHE HAS COLD FEET AT NIGHT” and that’s not how this fucking WORKS. Common sense is NOT removed from fucking discussion and what sense is applied needs to be levelly-- again, social codes.
So at 13.5/6 I had considered it textually paramount to the original endgame arrangement. S14 was just... blatant ass domesticity. Dean got his happy ending. He had his family. He got his win, his everything. They spoke frequently in the kitchen -- only vaguely over cases, more slapping around idioms, eyerolling over barbarous eating, and occasionally discussing how to raise their son. In fact, if you look at non-research-non-casework S14 kitchen scenes I’m gonna let you sit there and map out what all those domestic moments in the heart of the kitchen was, minding 13.5/6.
It was something gained. It was their life. And it was something to lose. 14.18 already advert framed it, we all saw it. Troubled family. People delete history of what is connected where to pretend “we” is vague or makes the romance any less of a canon piece and lmao guys
And season 15 is their year long run where they’re spearheading a huge part of the plot and will be a critical final resolution.
Speaking of 13.5/6 and social codes, anyone remember that Jack hadn’t met Dave Mather and looked at one nonphysical picture of them and recognized “he’s her boyfriend”? SOCIAL CODES MEAN SHIT GUYS.
So there’s no magic moment. There’s S8/9 coding and subtext. There’s S12′s tape and other elements -- tape is just the easiest to nail down but several through the year tbh -- there’s S13′s Never Too Late, and all things that followed that in waterfall. There’s S14′s established domesticity with Castiel having essentially moved into the bunker, something that wasn’t even entirely established in S12 yet even if he was more frequent there than Carver era.
Without social codes, I could argue that “Dean loves pie” doesn’t actually mean he loves pie. In fact, I could argue those letters mean nothing, because basic social codes are what even give words meanings. Without them these are just squiggly lines on a screen. If I eschew social codes, I could take a “love me some pie” line from Dean and say it means he fornicates with children and make long convoluded excuses around it instead of the observable fucking fact that Dean fucking Winchester likes goddamn pie.
Waiting for your perfect personally dreamed magic moment for a landmark to call text generally disregards the full body of the text and merit of the work. The amount of time and effort this FUCKING shipping fandom has put into -- even Destiel shippers -- bashing down and calling blatant ass text subtext because it’s not the text they want -- just because they want to argue with people that threw the logic baby out with the destiel bathwater they thought was dirty -- it’s fucking embarrassing tbqh. Imagine if people’s competitive fandom BS was muted how anyone here would be addressing this body of text.
Like. “After Carver directed Misha to play Castiel as a jilted lover in season 9, Cain through S10 escalated it into Castiel as Colette, which was confirmed by both the author and actors, seating him as a lover, as Sam was Abel the brother; by season 11, pining and connected hearts becomes the driving theme of the show, repeatedly denounced both in text and showrunner commentary that it wasn’t Amara that was that romance, and instead, a different one rose; by season 12, domestic arguments were many, mixtapes were shared, coming into rooms and playing people for things secretly stashed under pillows were a hinging plot moment, by season 13 he was the Never Too Late Big Win as a far more powerful version of Lisa, by season 14 Castiel moved in, by season 15 their giant sacred marriage euchartist ceremonies on repeat are driving the entire body of the season while overtly making the straight pairing a secondary parallel to the primary Dean and Castiel pairing by 15.09 such as the AU scene, or the ending where they mimicked the same phrase, truncated by physicality. But anyone viewing this text is an adult not competing for their preferred fandom playbox to be considered in the text, and had eyeballs, saw Sam and Eileen were clearly courting, flirting, and/or romantically engaged for a long time before this.”
Can we hope for the equality in that, sure. I want that, sure. That doesn’t erase all the other modes of text before that though.
But there, I just addressed 4 consecutive seasons of storytelling as its stands in the critical themes, without breaking down the dozens of independent scenes themselves that have already been analyzed to death and yall have scorched in your eyeballs by now like angels have prophet names.
I’ve seen people desperately, desperately try to reinterpret this text, or this story structure, in inconsistent ways that fall short. They’re never held accountable for their entire shit falling flat on their face, they just keep building new shit that falls on its face too and keep using it as a base. People can *interpret* ~text~ however they want. Anyone that tells you that “true text is inarguable” is either an idiot or selling you something for your subscription to their blog. Anyone CAN make any jackass interpretation of anything they want.
So sure. You can make some nonsensical explanation around every core theme their relationship is shadowed by, removing all social codes and context from basic elements understood by adult human beings natively, whatever. You can take 200 pages writing around it and degaying it. Generally when I see this, I see unhinged, incomplete writings with no central thread, just a thousand disembodied excuses that don’t even make a story. They’re just that. Desperate excuses. Years of it at this point. And they’re free to /interpret the text like that/ if they want. But that’s their /interpretation/ of a /text/ and as-above generally in /intentional, willful, conscious denial and erasure of the basic social codes we all understand./
Just because they /can/ warp the most left field interpretation doesn’t make it not text. If I pulled an “I don’t know I can’t english suddenly” and threw those codes out the window that doesn’t mean that the shit doesn’t mean the shit it means just because it’s inconvenient to me lmao
And this isn’t necessarily at you, Nonnie, I just feel the need to expand on this because any single time I don’t nail down these conversational stakes, someone breezes through and intentionally hotboxes the conversation to go down these very predictable manipulations and extremizations of the conversation that I really am far too tired to repeat the arguments raging in my mentions again, so I head ‘em off before the shit ever reblogs.
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The problem of "I Watch RWBY For The Fight Scenes" and how to account for when that logic fails.
“I watch RWBY for the fight scenes.”
You heard these words before at some point in the RWBY community. Ever since the Red Trailer back in 2012, there was a huge emphasis on fights as shown with the titular “Red” doing nothing but battling proto-typical Beowolves. No huge emphasis was put on story bits like how she was visiting her mother’s grave or on the music (Red Like Roses pt. 1 has only 4 verses and most of it’s instrumental), and Ruby isn’t even voiced in the trailer. Hell, for a good chunk of RWBY’s pre-production stage, fans perceived Ruby as a stoic girl. RWBY’s core has been the fight scenes… Right?
Well, it doesn’t really take a rocket scientist to figure out that isn’t true. While an argument can be made of how RWBY’s fights are what makes the show, the case can’t be held true for its quantity and quality. Volume 3 is the only Volume in RWBY where there’s at least a fight scene per episode (the sole exception being Episode 8, Destiny), some even having two or three packed into one episode, making the Volume more of a roller coaster, especially in the last quarter. Conversely, Volumes 4 & 5 are the volumes with the fewest amount of fights, both totalling to 5 spread out across their 12 and 14 episode run, respectively, with Volume 5’s feature fight, the Battle of Haven, being the subject of massive ridicule to the point where a two-hour video was made to detail all the errors made, among them being that the core climax of that fight occurs off screen.
However, the reverse can be held true. Some criticisms for Volume 3 include that the fight scenes were either extraneous or had poor quality to them while the highlights of Volumes 4 & 5 were things that they made up for in spite of having the fewest amount of fight scenes. So, this begs quite a few questions towards RWBY.
Most of them, however, can be summed up into one: “What feature of RWBY can match or even rival its alleged selling point in case the viewer encounters a drought or lack of quality in fight scenes?” For these, we’ll break them down into some categories. I will try to be as fair as possible for this.
The first, obvious thing, would be:
Plot, Setting and Theme
Can a viewer enjoy RWBY for its plot when the fights prove lacking, evocative themes or even its rich environment? It depends. One of the biggest things that fans enjoyed about Volume 3 was its development of the plot. Suddenly, the world expanded and there’s tons of depth and lore to an otherwise standard “wake up, go to school, save the world” deal.
However, later complaints of RWBY involve the plot in some way. One of the biggest conflicts between fans in RWBY’s 7th Volume was the execution of its cliffhanger which involves the main villain flying in with her army of monsters, many arguing that at that point, the plot has entered a phase known as “only the author can save them now”, which causes some fans to even beg for an explanation as to why Salem never did something like what she did before.
While the setting in RWBY has been interesting, at times, they end up with the short end of the stick. No case is this more truer than when Mistral, reputed as a two-faced Kingdom which had both a cultured surface and a seedy underworld, was reduced to a few paintings and a couch and only now have the people at Rooster Teeth decided to shed more light on it as a setting for their Dungeons and Dragons campaign.
The themes are extremely interesting to dissect, especially since there’s a meta layer to some of them with the passing of Monty Oum leaking into some of the plot developments and even music decisions. This, too, however, is subjective to taste, though due to the nature of themes themselves and not because of execution. One person could have a completely different interpretation of what RWBY’s core theme is compared to another’s, and that leads to their opinions. For instance, a common theme that critics picked up on in RWBY is “Kids vs. Adults” as they end up reading the conflicts that occur in RWBY and Ruby’s wording in her speech to Qrow as “kids rule, adults drool”, something they took contention with.
While plot, setting, and theme are there, it isn’t enough to supplant fights should they fail too… So, what about…
Characters and Relationships
Can a viewer enjoy RWBY for its characters and relationships? I feel like this would be a strong case to make, but at the same time, this is also a bit of an oxymoron. While the characters can sometimes feel interesting and their relationships even more, the problem is that the characters sometimes lack the focus necessary to be fleshed out and their relationships even less.
You might heard these complaint before: “Bumblebee came out of nowhere”, “Black Sun/Fair Game was bait”, or even “RWBY has too many characters!” and that is, in of itself, a bit of a problem with RWBY. When it takes the time to do character arcs and relationship progression, it is pulled off masterfully, though whose arc it was is also subjective. A key contributor to the problem is how RWBY’s focus is spread too thin.
There’s, on average, 13 characters that make their first appearance in each Volume of RWBY, about half to three quarters of them go on to make reappearances in other Volumes and even a few of them become major characters. This becomes a balancing act for RWBY to juggle all the characters and developments, leading to two characters getting a massive shaft: Ruby, the main character of RWBY, and Oscar Pine, a plot important character.
Ruby has the criticism of being a flat character. While there’s no inherit problem in of itself, the fact that the plot has been shifting and stakes become raised while the most we got out of Ruby before Volume 6 is that, sometimes she expresses sadness, was concerning. Even after Volume 5, a common complaint is that her “character development” consists of her delivering speeches.
Oscar’s problem is that the most pivotal moments of his character are relegated to the background, to the point where his nickname is “Offscreen Pine”, as every Volume since his first in Volume 4, there has always been some moment of his story that happened off screen and, often, it was that moment that makes his character arcs of those Volumes incomplete.
That is also a bit of a problem with relationships as well. Sometimes they end up being complete without any actual set up or they do have set up, but it’s either a red herring for the actual ship or, most infamously, it was never intended to be a ship to begin with. Now, there are ships that have been well-developed, but, again, it’s subjective. One such example is Bumblebee, which, to this day, has been hotly debated as whether it’s the best ship RWBY’s done, a rushjob of a ship that was only made to appease the fans after a lackluster Volume, or, at worst, a ship so polarizing, that merely criticizing it would have you accused of being a homophobe.
In fact, some characters develop at different rates, to the point where it is almost whiplash and requires a fan to actively point out how the development was foreshadowed from the start of RWBY (which, itself, leads to a common criticism). Two infamous examples of this are Adam Taurus, who only appeared in a short trailer before making his full debut appearance three years later and showing a completely different side to him, and General Ironwood, whose status as an antagonist is still being debated to this day.
So, these two fields are also wild cards in terms of enjoying RWBY… So, what then? Perhaps we could turn to…
The Community
Watching RWBY is one thing, but talking about RWBY with other people might make it worth it, right? … Yeah, depends. RWBY has become a rather… interesting subject matter. Trawl around the internet enough and you’ll find people in a fight about whether RWBY was good or not… though it’s more often one side calling the other side names and insults nowadays.
No example is truer than Youtube, which if you ask a RWBY fan, is a minefield and that, if you watch just one video of a person saying how they dislike even one aspect of RWBY, you’re suddenly swarmed with videos on “RWBY sucks and here’s why” essays… Even though that’s not how the Youtube algorithm works.
Even RWBY’s Reddit isn’t safe from this. Since the end of Volume 6, it had fractured into a smaller subreddit, RWBY Critics, where people freely share their opinions of RWBY that they would otherwise be judged harshly on the main Reddit. It feels like, when you traverse through the RWBY community and interact with it, you either love it or hate it and your first impressions could mean the difference between getting welcomed or rejected.
It doesn’t help that, with every hiatus in RWBY, the fanbase becomes more and more unstable, to the point where a contest made in good fun with the purpose to help Rooster Teeth with designs for Grimm (a win-win) was eventually turned into a toxic environment simply because one of the artists chose to base a Grimm off something that people found culturally insensitive and made even worse when endorsements were made in favor of and against this aforementioned Grimm, eventually forcing Rooster Teeth’s hand in removing the public’s ability to vote and judging on the three remaining Grimm designs (two of them ended up being removed for different reasons).
I know that was a very specific example, but it highlights just how broken the community has become. It bears repeating: a fan contest where Rooster Teeth would use the winning design in RWBY ended up becoming a flame war because one of the designs was determined to be problematic and a couple of people promoted/denounced the design, effectively rigging the contest to be centered around this one design. I will not be surprised if, years down the line, when someone else chronicles the worst dramas in RWBY, this would at the very least get an honorable mention.
And then there are where you stand on certain characters or plots. Should you ever find that your opinion differs from the majority’s opinion on a certain matter, prepare for a world of hurt or even being asked “why do you even watch RWBY?” That said, I doubt the entire community is as dark as I put it. I think there’s parts of the fandom you can enjoy, like fanmade content or even just a simple conversation with a close-knit group, especially if you enjoy RWBY…. Which, I guess leads to…
So… What do you watch RWBY for?
The point of this article was to see what part of RWBY one can find enjoyable when fight scenes prove to not work and, given what I said, you might expect me to say that there’s nothing enjoyable… Though, surprisingly, my conclusion is a lot more optimistic than that.
If you watch RWBY solely for the fight scenes, then prepare for droughts or lack of quality, or even just watch fight compilations. However, if you watch RWBY solely for the plot, setting, themes, characters, relationships, or even the community itself, then you’ll need to be prepared for similar problems.
There’s two keys to enjoying RWBY: having tolerance or patience, and having more than one thing to watch RWBY for. I think a major reason why you usually have a bunch of people drop RWBY after a volume is because they were disappointed with how RWBY did something or how RWBY lacked in something and decided to quit while they were ahead. For the most part, it might be that they took all they could get from RWBY and decided they had enough.
That said, I’ve seen people sing praises for RWBY’s story, setting, theme, characters, relationships, and even community. It’s led me to think of this struggle to find enjoyment in RWBY to be similar to a theme found in the show: the theme of persevering in the face of despair. Several characters in the show have become bitter, cynical, or even evil because they had enough of the hardships that the world threw at them while the heroes are those who try desperately to keep moving forward in spite of that.
And it’s not easy, I will admit that. It’s not easy to come back to enjoying RWBY once you begin to feel contempt for it. After the finale of Volume 5, I felt confused. Before, I had wanted to enjoy every episode of the Volume, but this one felt so rushed and so incomplete that I found myself thinking “that’s it?”. While I started to become cynical about RWBY after Volume 4 and had temporarily dropped RWBY in between “The First Step Pt. 1”’s release and sometime after “Breach”’s premiere, it was Volume 5 that made me begin to lose enjoyment. Just knowing that Rooster Teeth could do something like Volume 5 again had me lose faith.
However, there are moments that made RWBY enjoyable for me. Certain episodes were hailed as being good watches, there were a few plots, characters, and relationships I enjoyed (even ones I normally wouldn’t got some delights), settings I wished would be better explored, and I’m always going to examine themes of RWBY since that’s one thing I enjoy about it.
And, true enough, RT has done stuff that even the more hardened of critics enjoy. It’s all about patience, tolerance, and perseverance.
I know this isn’t a straight and narrow answer, but there are no easy answers. The major takeaway from this is that “I watch RWBY for the fight scenes” has the potential to backfire and you need backup reasons to enjoy RWBY and a little bit of patience in order to appreciate RWBY.
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Just watched 13 Reasons Why S4
Ended up making a full blown commentary per episode because this is finally the last season and I’ve been enjoying this mess since S1. I even forgot that it was released until a friend brought it up to me. So in short,
Ep1
OKAY WHO DIES AGAIN HUH??
Clay, narrating: *I'm good at hiding shits so my parents don't notice at all." His parents: *concernedly looking at him pale and mushing food on the dining table*
The concequences of investigating murder cases and creating conspiracies instead of studying your ass off because it's a damn school really caught up huh.
Charlie holy shit I love you he's so chill and good.
It's been years I still can't believe Justin is really adopted by the Jensens. Funny that now the table is reversed, with Justin finally actually doing better and taking care of the increasingly-ill Clay.
SCOTT!! OH MY GOD! SCOTT REED!! OH MY FUCKING GOD!! AAAAAAAAAAAAA HOLY SHIIITTTTTTTTT AAAAAAAAA!!!
Wow my headcanon is approved, he already graduated by S3. No reason he didn't hang out with the gang after all the shits in S2 if he was no longer around in the first place.
He's still so nice even in Clay's trippy nightmare. Is that what Clay remembers about him? Well not really surprising, considering Scott actually was worried about him in S2.
Good god finally Clay meets a therapist- Wait a minute that's the guy from CSI:NY?!?! Isn't Clay just gonna get clobbered instead.
Okay I knew they are really close and I do adore their relationship so much but HOLY SHIT THEY ACTUALLY GO AT IT WITH ALEX AND ZACH???
Alex: *panicking over the kiss* Zach: Ayy don't worry let's just continue perhaps-suicidally hanging out on dangerous rooftops that you were almost fall to your death from. Alex: ????
Ep2
That narration of Clay ranting about college applications. I'll drink to that bruh.
Ya I too make my applications and other supposedly important matters at 3AM instead of any other more sensible time.
Oh my fucking god that is the creepiest smile I've ever see.
I feel like as Justin gets better and better with his life, Clay goes worse.
Justin is so excited about going to college! You deserve the future man.
The old-time stoners and drunkards are rehabbed or dead. Enter Zach.
Winston: *eyes and ears up to your shit 24/7*
Nobody likes Tyler in S1 but now everybody likes him.
Okay. Cops doing shit jobs at protecting. This feels too real with this situation right now.
Clay's adventure to put the trash into the trash bin.
Omg they got the paint to the lab this is going real CSI.
Idk about u but at this point I don't exactly want to pay attention to Jessica/Justin problems anymore.
I know Zach and Clay don't get along and that's why I need their adventure together.
Clay drunk-puking on Justin. Well well well how the turntables.
The return of Monet!!
"I have 2.8. If I work hard, I'll get 2.9" Winston omg same.
Tht held gaze between Alex and Winston.. Is this slow burn fanfiction???????
Yes Mr. CSI it will definitely get worse.
I know writing about your feelings can make you feel better but probably not in your college essay form.
Ep3
I'm starting to think Clay is the one who dies in the end? Idk tho.
I guess the toll of busting ass trying to save everyone by yourself is catastrophically high, huh, Clay? Funny that he now goes from 100 in S3 to 0 in here and that's actually realistic.
Alex and Winston are really pining each other with Zach in the background lmao.
"You don't wanna go on the Valentine Dance with me? Even as friends?" Well sometimes there are moments when you just don't go back to being friends. It's an actual normal thing.
And besides the last time Alex goes with Jess for something she wanna do, he ends up murdering somebody. So.
"Hey Zach. Hey punch me. Hey you pussy now? Hey hey. Bitch." *poke* *poke* *poke*
No Zach he's trying to save all of your asses. You can't just say that.
Charlie is really just there trying to do his best in this shitshow and like Justin I wanna laugh but also am proud.
Everyone: *being paranoid and unto each other* Alex and Winston: *having the date of their life*
I wish everyone doesn't have this level of trust issues but then again we won't have a shitstorm drama like this.
When did this become "what is love?" philosophy class?
"You know love but you love so fiercely and sometimes it hurts."Wow Mr. CSI you hit the mark.
How many parties can the Liberty High hold in a year?
"You go with Charlie to get back to Justin, right?" Wow Diego you HIT the mark.
I still have problems with Ani as a character, but I do like her casual banters with Clay.
You know, with all these trust issues, I'm surprised nobody actually tries to peek on other's phone. Like, I know that's low. But, you know, faster solution. And better than having mass hallucinations.
Oh God the football team really is a bunch of jerks. Good fucking thing Scott is outta here.
Alex and Winston almost die like couples in a cheap slasher movie.
"Fuck Love." Clay Jensen, 2019 (according to the movie timeline)
Ep4
Why is Charlie talking? Why is he wearing the football jersey? Who on earth dies?? Is it Zach? Justin? Somebody else from the football team? But the content of your speech man...
Ah yeah. Clay did survive a great big deal of many ugly shits. Single-handedly thanks to adrenaline, mostly.
Jess got a point tho. Ani could have followed Clay to stop him, by herself or with the gang. What did she do? She spied on Winston and Alex, and then went back to the dance. So much for handling anything themselves.
Or maybe, the gang shouldn't have let Ani and Clay take care of it themselves.
Does anybody in this show ever figure out Clay has dead people hallucinations?
Domestic Jensen family is my everything.
Charlie really out there bribing Zach with his homemade cookies I-
Ah yeah, I kinda forgot that in reality Alex and Winston have a really difficult situation. With Bryce and Monty stuff.
"Looking back on your time at Liberty, do you have any regrets?" Really? Isn't that all they have?
"Who do you trust most in your life and why?" Everybody: *immediately side-eyeing each other*
Clay c'mon wtf Justin is really just worried sick and trying to help you. Aaand he's gone.
Jess you don't put your hands into something without checking it first...
Why would you only send 2 adults to supervise 30-50 kids on a camping wildlife trip? They wouldn't be able to do shit.
"I thought you were a football player!" "I AM a football player! And so are YOU!" Gold.
Dream!Monty and Dream!Clay really sit like that and I almost laugh were it not for the fact that I do that too. It's strange to see that for once, they talk normally, heart-to-heart, without the usual snickering, chiding, all that venom.
Oh shit they really make Monty and Clay mirror each other like that. They both protect people they love but have tendencies to snap, one way or another.
Zach, dude, I know you've been a real good friend. But Alex almost died. Twice. Because of your drunken ways. And you laughed. Didn't you spend an entire season trying hard to not let him die again? What's wrong with you?
When did this become a horror movie?
The Standalls :((
CHARLIE MY MAN WITH HIS COOKIES. And incidentally, a wild Zach appears.
"So are we gonna fall apart or trust each other now!" Justin my man.
Clay dude that would have been an amazing entrance were it not for the fact you looked insane.
I can't fucking believe they just go normally at campfire like that. Two people almost died. Several got beaten. What the fuck.
Does it come from the bottom of your heart or it doubles as a threat, Clay?
Alex you had us at the first half not gonna lie.
GR A NO LA CA MP C O OKIES? ??
Wait. So who has been fucking around with the football team? Who moved Clay?? Huh??
Ep5
GUYS THERE IS A THING CALLED GPS ON THE PHONE?? What are you? 3?
Justin finally breaking down after 5 episodes being the most decent and healthy person around. Well Charlie is too but he's new, so.
Finally an obligatory meeting at Monet.
CYRUS AND THE PUNK GANG!!! God I love you guys where have you been. And you guys are computer geeks?!?!?! Perfect.
My question exactly, Clay. Good replies tho, Cy.
I'm still thinking how for a nerd, Clay knows A LOT of people and knows who to ask what.
"How am I even friends with you?" Ya Alex that's my question too. How are you suddenly bff with Zach? I don't remember you two being close in S1?
Hm. If you aren't holding his family at stake, there is no way Tony would even think to rat out.
Mr. CSI starts going CSI on Clay.
I almost forgot Charlie's last name is St. George. The cast goes by Charlie mostly so.
Justin really shows up at the party with the angry mom pose and disappointed look at Clay. The turntable, people. Flynn's voice got raspy.
Oh no no Clay you don't go there. Please don't split my Jensen-Foley brothers like that. Meanwhile the punk gang be like just watching there.
C O O KI E S??? Goddamn Charlie do you bring cookies everywhere you go??
Charlie my boy you T_T I was kinda suprised that the cookie baking actually had a sad backstory.
Clay-Zach bonding that I fucking wish for oh yeah. I definitely didn't expect it with piano and drunk singing tho.
While Clay is having the time of his life, Tony is seeing life flashes in his eyes.
Yassss he winssss!!!!
Caleb's expression when the sherrif hugs him lmfao
Nice try Sherrif but Tony knows your tricks.
"What of any of this is okay?" Wow things you'd never hear Justin says in S1.
Meanwhile, Charlie and Alex are high on weed cookies as fuck. Their conversation is the most interesting thing I've seen beside the Scott cameo till now.
The look on Justin's face when Clay pushes him :((
MY DUDES HAVE YOU FORGOTTEN ABOUT JEFF'S DEATH? WHAT HE WAS ACCUSED FOR?! You do not, under any circumstances, drive drunk.
Ep6
Clay be spitting truth.
They really be discussing Clay's chronic hero syndrome huh.
Okay. Operation Clay-Zach failed.
Weren't Zach all fuck it all yeah! kinda guy? Guess when you are the one who faces death it's not that fun anymore huh.
"One Clay Jensen is enough" Jess truth.
Do Alex and Charlie really study Spanish in front of Tony who is not helping at all? That would be embarrassing lmao.
Clay: Fuck off. Hallucination!Monty: *sits next to him*
Gotta hand it to Timothy Granaderos. He could go venomous to puppy eyed in 1 second. Amazing.
Man. School shootings are fucked up. There are many things I wonder about mankind and one of them is why is school shooting even possible?
Hallucination!Bryce: Hi I’m sorry I’m late. I hear this is time for Clay’s dead people hallucination party.
"Are you a hero or a martyr?" Wow they really throw the question.
And here is Clay sitting under the desk between his two most hated dead people hallucinations whispering moral dilemmas to him.
Meanwhile Winston and Zach got high.
Charlie helping Alex to breath.
The talk with Estella and Tyler.
"No offense, you are cool, but I don't wanna die with you." Zach chill lmao.
Are.. Are you sure outing that to Winston is a good call, Zach? For a guy who was super paranoid that his gang would narc him, he sure is loose mouthed himself.
I like how everyone from Tyler to Zach to Winston, admits that Alex is a really kind guy.
Wow Tony did you really expect anyone could do anything in that situation, in fucking Evergreen situation, for that matter?
Charlie is a great friend wow.
Cl-CLAY DON'T GO OUT that is EXACTLY what you are NOT supposed to do!!!
Goddamnit Clay. Holy shit Clay.
Dylan Minnette really worked hard in this scene.
.......... WAIT A MINUTE IT'S NOW ACTUALLY CHARLIE ALEX????? Tony be just walking in.
Ep7
Clay really got into a psych ward. Talk about darkest hour. And it’s only ep 6?
Wow Ty that's some brave lines.
Which hallucination-induced person is Clay talking to before Ani gets there?
Ok that therapy session made me tear up.
These kids are having college interviews at the worst time possible. They are all fucking breaking down one way or another.
And Charlie just, really never gives up on Alex huh.
What's most important to Clay is his friends. Real quick to answer that question huh.
God Justin lashing out at the Jensens. It's the first time he does it and it hurts.
Zach holy fuck. I appreciate you didn't out it but holy fuck you didn't have to do that are you trying to die
Clay-Tony combo is back baby I miss them so much. Although perhaps Tony you would mind a bit about Clay's health because clearly he was out of it.
This is so short. I too really don't like application essays and interviews and the inevitable revisit of the sadder parts of my life because of them.
Ep8
When did this become sci-fi apocalyptic story?
God I miss the time when Clay's dreams are just Inception-styled trippy shit with Scott randomly says hello and gets him water.
Okay. Everyone's got their own way to cope with existential and moral crisis huh.
You know what, I would like one movie out of this sci-fi dream.
I knew it Tyler was a bait to smoke out illegal gun dealers. Is that... An okay thing to do for a high schooler? Sounds fucked up, all things considered.
Yaaay Justin's got the college! I'm super happy!
Wow Estella good question.
Wow Tyler good statement. If they trust each other a bit more, everything would have been a bit better.
Ah shit. Justin relapses again.
Does Tony need to be pummelled first before he finally goes all off to finish his opponent or what?
Is this going Big Brother Is Watching
What the fuck. That locker fight scene is disgusting.
Jess and Clay might throw shades at each other but together they share one brain cell.
"I think it's a walkout, Sir" Tyler lmao
Wow Zach and Alex heart-to-heart.
Cyrus really steps on some pedestal to make his point.
Aaand Zach and Alex really go all out on "doing it right" huh.
They really have students vs cops riot at this time. Talk about timing.
It's nice to see the punk gang enjoying the fighting again.
Dude what happens if you don't have anything on your bag tho.
Aaaah the punk gang with Tyler again!!
"Why are you with me and not with Charlie?" Zach ouch that hurts.
Zach no no no Zach get out of there too Zach pls
Clay really becomes 2nd in command to Jess huh.
Charlie tries to save Clay but gets whacked on the head instead.
Tony you came back!! Oh so that college scout was.. Oh.
Oh shit Clay. Oh. Shit. I should have realized that. Goddamn.
Ep9
"I like sleep." Charlie me too.
God Alex and Charlie literally sleep together jaldjwaownaljewoalsj that some cute shit.
Wow Clay really takes Mr. CSI's advice to round up the gang and confesses. That's a step.
Charlie sometimes has a good idea, huh.
The Jensens meeting is probably the reason why the idea of parenthood scares me.
Also Clay and Justin really put the practice of "tell the parents the less-harsh-but-still-harsh truth, then ask them to get prom back" by the book. And it's awkward.
Aww Charlie coming out to his dad and the response he gets... When you put the rich fams like Dempseys, Walkers and Saint Georges together, the last one is really the only healthy one huh.
Way to go Jess!
Ah I forgot Alex has an older brother.
Aaaahhh Charlie has dinner with the Standalls! Their reaction is so sweet!
"Does he make you happy?" "Yeah. A lot." AHDKWJWOAKDUWLAOEL I mean after everything that has happened to Alex, man I am so happy he can say that with a fond smile.
WHAT THE FUCK HAHAHAHHA CHARLIE WHAT THE FUCK HOLY SHIT LMFAO I THOUGHT THIS WAS JUST AN TRIPPY ANIMATED IMAGINATION THING and Alex is so done with his extra shit.
Wow Ani you do karaoke good, asking Jess out even better.
OH MY GOD IT ESCALATED. Also Alex is right that one is creepy Charlie.
I thought by special doughnut Caleb means some diet-related stuff fit to Tony's menu for fighting. Why didn't I expect a literal Will You Go To Prom doughnuts?
CHARLIE PLEASE STOP AHAHAHAHA you dumb rich kid where did you get all those lamps and prop candles.
"Would you love me any less?" Aww Clay knows Justin loves him.
"You three all look adorable" Ya Jess, same.
Tony really out there doing the "I'm here because he's here" to Caleb.
Clay, Alex, and Charlie be like judging Zach hard.
Oh right that one kid from Cyrus's gang is gay and he brought his boyfriend!
Zach: You two sitting here like it's a funeral. Also Zach: *proceeds to continue sitting as well*
"We deserve to live." Finally something from Zach's mouth that I can agree for this season.
I love that Tony and Caleb are such good friends to Clay.
And now it's Winston turn for dead people hallucination.
..... The door to the other side again.. :'''((
CHARLIE AND ALEX WON THE PROM KINGS AAAAAAHHHHHH I mean with all those extra efforts, it'd be hard to not to. And there goes Alex finally giving in to dance.
I don't like Luke the football guy when he's the enemy but I like him when he's a friend. He's a hype man lmao.
Alex I'm so happy for you man. I'm glad you are finally happy. My heart was tight at the dance part .
Everyone: *dances* Clay: *sits there, monologuing philosophically*
I like that Clay and Ani finally being honest that they don't fit each other romantically. As romance goes there is not much romantic tension between them. And they have way too many flawed traits that when paired, would turn the relationship sour and possibly toxic in the end.
Justin do u like to show up and make everyone step aside for you or what.
I like that Clay was just watching from a distance. Then at last minute decided to join the crowd with his mother, whom he had a few trust issues with in all seasons.
Charlie: "Foundry's gay?!" Alex: "Mind's blown" Me: Same.
There has been nothing wrong going on in one episode, aside from the Zach one that's timely stopped by Charlie and Alex. I'm suspicious.
Ah. Yes. Of course.
Oh my god Justin's the one dead huh?
Ep10
Oh thank God he hasn't died. Yet.
Oh God Justin no. No no no.
Get your shit together Zach. Even Charlie tells you that.
No no no not like this not after everything oh god.
Somebody would you actually please run after Clay too.
Oh my god Clay.
Oh my god Alex you. Even when he admits it to Winston, he still covers for Jess. I- oh god.
It's been only 15 minutes and it hurts.
Charlie and Alex, the moms of the group.
You know, for a guy who says he doesn't love Justin, Alex gives a lot of shit about him. I guess you can still be around people you don't like?
I know the kiss is huge news Charlie but that's not the issue here lmao.
Zach: *hugs Clay* Clay: ????? Alex and Charlie: ?????? Zach: *pats Tyler's head* *leans on Clay*
The Padillas :''')
Clay Jensen. Class speaker. Wow.
Yeah Mr. CSI's voice is really calm, rather chilling, actually.
"You've looked at death too many times for a young person." Damn right Mr. Jensen.
Ah so that's the reason why Zach stole that letter. Makes sense, emotionally.
You know, I did say Idc anymore about Justin/Jessica problems but when it gets to this point, I can't not care.
So many people come to the hospital...
Clay and Justin's talk. I'm sorry I can't hold it in anymore. I'm fucking sobbing at this moment.
He's dead. He's dead. He's dead just like his mom. But he died not in the same way. He died holding his bro's hand. He died surrounded by his family. He died with people who loved him around.
"After everything, this is how it ends." Fucck
DID HE HAVE TO DIE??? DID JUSTIN FOLEY-JENSEN HAVE TO DIE?? Did you really have to put yet another sucker punch in the last episode of the season?? Yeah I know real kids and people do die from AIDS but really? After a whole season of Clay screaming kids wants to live to the point he lost his mind???
I spent the entire funeral screen crying. I couldn't even scream again when Scott is present in the funeral. I know he'd be there but god I can't right now.
Mr. CSI sure knows super effective ways to make Clay react.
"If Justin's dead, the none of the rest of it matters. " Clay..
He opens up.
Oh yeah I forgot Charlie is a junior.
AAAA COURTNEY AND RYAN ARE HERE!!! I MISS YOU GUYS!!!!!
SCOTTTTT!!!!!! And CHLOE TOO!! It’s nice that they come together. But they aren’t like, together, right? I mean if he is her boyfriend she would say his name right away to Zach instead of a mere ‘would you like to meet him? He’s outside.’
These 4 are such good friends to attend their friends’ graduation ceremony.
The punk guys in toga are so... Refreshing to look. Such hype men.
"It's easy to hate. It's easy to fear. It's goddamn hard to love. But it's not optional. It's essential." Jessica Davis, everybody.
Jeff, Hannah and Justin really died in the span of 2 years. Add to that is Bryce and Monty, whose deaths left uncountable traumas on top of existing traumas. Yeah. It was hellish time.
Scott’s proud small smile when Clay gives his speech. Im love.
"Choose to live. Even on the worst day, life is a pretty spectacular thing." Clay Jensen, everybody.
Ma boi Zach really teared up at Clay's speech.
Luke and one of the punk kids talking about some geek thing I am not familiar with I-
“No offense Luke. You’ve got great arm but you haven’t been known for your brain.” PETER That BURNS LMAO
Poor Winston just being alone. OH HELLO RYAN YOU ARE FAST.
Zach is gonna study music! Nice foreshadowing since he plays a lot of music this season.
Clay having a gratitude moment with his parents and Scott be like munching cupcakes in the background.
Oh god Hannah ...
Wow the old tape gang is here!! The nostalgia hurts.
They bury the tapes on the same hill again asdfwosaiofai.
Kinda salty Sheri and Scott aren’t here. But then again I guess back then Scott was just helping Clay and co when he could and mostly minding his own business. HOWEVER isn’t Sheri like in the tape and pretty prominent too :(( Like she was really cool with Clay (despite the whole guilt over Jeff), tried to make amends and really helped with the polaroid cases.
Also you can't just insert Scott in Clay's dream and then not have them interact in the end. The dream was such a perfect bait. Like we know at least they apparently get along well.
Everything in Jessica’s final conversation with her Bryce hallucination. Everything in it.
Ryan: “Gordon Lightfoot?” Ha Ryan you miss a whole lot of drama.
Fuck I'm tearing up again at Justin's essay. He deadass makes an entire essay about Clay and how he is his savior I-
Oh my god they end it exactly like S1 with Tony and Clay riding away. They are really each other’s ride or die.
That’s it. It’s over. It’s been a long trainwreck. So the 2019 class graduates, so does Justin, they are doing uni right now and keeping in touch with everyone. Bye.
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Nothing Serious: Parts 1-3
With all your friends having married themselves off, having kids and getting boring, you turn to Tinder to fill your time. When you match with a familiar face, you quickly realise you’ve bitten off more than you can chew. (Modern Sugar Daddy AU).
Pairing: Roger Taylor x f!Reader
Warnings: Filth, angst, daddy kink, morbid humour, strictly 18+.
Notes: This was originally posted on my Queen blog (BoRhapRogerina) before I deleted it. If you’re new here, welcome. If you’ve read this before, I’ve reworked this quite substantially. I’m planning on finishing all of my fics for NaNoWriMo this year, so stay tuned for updates on all my WIPs!
[1/4]
It was a Friday evening, and you had just got off work. Not that you had plans.
All your friends had partnered up and gone away on romantic weekends away.
Leaving you alone, with no plans.
On the plus side, you had a laundry list of shows to binge watch, and a full fridge of goodies, that would most likely last until Saturday morning. If you were lucky.
Flopping down on the couch, you fired up the first show on your list and settled down, fully prepared to fester for two days. Bliss, you thought, absentmindedly opening Tinder for a glimpse of what could be. If you could stomach the dating game.
You must have swiped left on a hundred people in the space of ten minutes, never bothering to read their self absorbed ‘about me’ sections, or to look at more of their photos. Until Roger (37 years old, 20 kilometres away) caught your eye.
He was handsome. Recently divorced. And a musician.
He looked familiar, too.
But 37 was too old. Curiosity got the better of you when you set your search parameters, casting the net as wide as possible to see what the app would throw up.
It threw up Roger.
He was too old.
But too intriguing to reject.
So you swiped right.
And then went back to your show.
The Umbrella Academy wasn’t boring, per se, but every now and again, your eyes would be drawn towards your phone on the coffee table. You wondered whether Roger had noticed you. Surely not.
When the first episode was over, you padded through to the kitchen and flicked the kettle on. You couldn’t help but kick yourself for not giving his profile enough attention. He caught you by surprise and you didn’t fully absorb his profile. Apart from the obvious. You swiped right without thinking. And now, he was all you could think about.
What did he do for a living? Did he have kids? Was his ex-wife a total nutter?
You stood, drumming your fingertips against the kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. Until you heard your phone vibrate.
Never in your life had you moved so fast, darting through to the living room and almost knocking over a lamp. You picked up your phone and looked at your notifications. Sure enough, there it was, ‘you have matched with Roger.’
Throwing yourself back on to the couch, you could feel your cheeks burning. It felt utterly alien to you to even match with someone you were actually attracted to, so you were determined to make a good impression. Staring up at the ceiling, your lips moved slowly, trying to verbalise what you were going to open with and all the ways you could woo him straight off the bat. A simple, ‘how are you?’ wasn’t going to suffice.
‘How YOU doin’ tonight?’ Uncool.
‘Any plans for the weekend?’ Boring.
‘If you were a cocktail, what would you be?’ Better.
And then your phone vibrated again.
You looked down to see a notification flash up and disappear. ‘Roger has sent you a message.’
Your stomach churned. They never messaged first. At least he was keen, you thought, unlocking your phone to read what he had sent.
‘If you were a fruit, you’d be a fine-apple.’
You snorted, feeling your face burn up even more. It was a stinker of a line. A stinker that somehow made your heart flutter.
Just as you were hovering your thumbs over your keyboard to type a response, another message popped up.
‘Sorry, that was rotten.’
And another.
‘It’s really nice to match with you. Any plans for the weekend?’
He stole your boring line.
Game on!
[2/4]
You and Roger spent the entire weekend messaging back and forth about everything from your favourite films to your favourite holiday destinations (he cited dirty weekends away at his villa - wherever that was - as a top pick). It turned out he was charming, witty and ever so slightly filthy, without being disrespectful. Despite your qualms about his age, you were aching to see if he was as enthralling in real life.
It was Monday morning. Sat at your desk, you desperately clung to any focus you could muster for your work. But, in the back of your mind, you couldn’t help wondering when Roger's next message would appear. You prayed it would be soon. You had a mountain of paperwork to do, but precisely zero focus to follow through.
By midday, you lost hope.
Maybe he was too good to be true? Perhaps your joke about being ‘An Old Man Fucker’ was a step too far?
Packing up your desk to go to lunch, you decided to leave your phone behind. But as you walked away, you heard it vibrate.
You darted back to your desk and grabbed your phone.
Roger had a funny habit of appearing on your phone, just as you were about to do something. You scanned his latest offering.
‘What’s the difference between a tyre and 365 used condoms?’
Even without a punchline, it earned a giggle, which in turn earned you disapproving looks from your colleagues. You hurriedly tapped out a quick, ‘I don’t know,’ before stowing your phone in your pocket and following the mass exodus to the canteen.
Your heart felt like it was going to escape from your chest as you waited for the punchline to yet another dirty joke.
His response came quickly: ‘One’s a Goodyear, the other’s a great year! Doing anything nice tonight, gorgeous? Hope you're having a lovely day! I hate Mondays :(’
———————————————————————————————————
A few hours later, you were sprawled on the sofa, bouncing your leg impatiently. A typical weeknight consisted of a quick change into your pyjamas, scarfing down instant noodles and a side of hating the single life.
But not tonight. Roger was coming over. And you were determined to impress.
You had swapped your joggers and a plain old t-shirt for a short, black tea dress. Makeup on. Hair done. You even wore a bra; a rarity at home.
The seconds ticked by at an impossibly slow rate and Roger was late. He said he'd be there for seven. It was five past.
You got up to pace back and forth across the living room. Your mind wandered, anticipating what your evening with Roger would entail.
What would you talk about? You had covered a lot of ground over the weekend.
Would you watch a film? You knew he was into sci-fi. You could do sci-fi. Get drunk? On a school night, really? Maybe not.
Sleep with him?
That last question stopped you in your tracks. It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to. That was precisely the reason you joined Tinder, as tough as it was to admit. After speaking to him all weekend, you actually kind of liked him. But you just didn’t know him that well.
Your brain felt like it had just run a marathon when there was a knock at the door.
It made your stomach drop, and your legs turn to jelly as you scrambled to answer it; your mind blank and exhausted. With a deep breath, you turned the handle and cracked the door open, peering out into the hall.
Roger peeked through the gap, a mischievous smile on his face. “Hi,” he beamed. "Sorry, I'm late."
You flung the door open, eyeing him with a shy smirk. “Hi." That was all you could muster.
Roger quickly pulled you into him, squeezing you tightly. “It’s so nice to meet you,” he mumbled against your hair.
He smelled incredible. Like sandalwood and pine forests, enticing you to bury your face against his collarbone. “And you,” you sighed.
All those worries in your head melted away, but there was something between both of your bodies. Breaking away from Roger’s embrace, you looked down to find a bunch of flowers and two bottles of wine tucked into the crook of his arm. You gazed up at him, forgetting how to form sentences. It seemed like he did too.
Luckily he noticed your stare trailing down to the flowers and the wine. Red and white. He rocked on his feet, remembering what was happening. “Oh! These are for you. Couldn’t come empty-handed and I wasn’t sure…” He babbled, passing them to you.
“They’re perfect," you smiled, waving him inside, "Come in.”
You led roger through the hall and into the living room, motioning him towards the couch. “Make yourself at home. What do you want to drink?”
Roger shrugged. “Whatever you’re having.”
The kitchen felt like it was worlds away, granting you a short reprieve from Roger’s company. He was so much more handsome in real life, you thought, rifling through your cupboards. So handsome, in fact, that you had forgotten when you kept your wine glasses. “The ones above the sink, fuck,” you grumbled to yourself, throwing open the cupboard and snatching the glasses. You tried to even yourself out with what little time alone you had, pressing your hands into the edge of the counter and bowing your head. Deep breaths.
A clatter from the living room pulled you back to reality. You hastily dunked the flowers in the sink and grabbed your drinks, to see what the commotion in the living room was.
When you got back to Roger, you found him picking some records up off the floor.
Roger looked up at you wearing a coy smirk. “Sorry. Had to make sure you weren’t a crazy fan.”
You gave an awkward laugh, wandering past him.
“It’s happened before,” he added, getting to his feet and giving a shrug. “You’ve got good taste though.”
“I thought you looked familiar.” You sat the bottle and the glasses down on the coffee table and joined him over by your boxes of records.
He skimmed through your collection. “I can’t believe people still buy these,” Roger laughed, taking out a copy of Bruce Springsteen’s ‘Born in the USA.’ “Don’t tell me this is some new hipster wanker thing? Buying LPs?” he asked, eyeing you with his eyebrows raised.
You snatched the record from his grasp, screwing up your features. “I’ll have you know, vinyl is far superior.”
Roger rolled his eyes. “Yeah, with all that crackling and popping, it’s bound to sound better.”
“It’s all about the listening experience,” you sneered, taking the record out of its slipcase and placing it on the turntable. “You can’t be passive when you’re listening to records. It gives you more of a chance to absorb it.”
“I believe you,” Roger chuckled.
“You haven’t told me what kind of music Queen play,” you added, waltzing back to the sofa.
Roger flopped down next to you, watching as you poured his drink and handed it to him. As he was about to take a sip, his eyes narrowed. “Do you know something? I’m shocked you haven’t heard of us.”
“Why’s that?” you asked, glaring at him.
“Well, you’ve got the music taste of a forty-year-old man for starters.”
You choked on your wine. He was on to you. But now wasn’t the time to tell him you had spent the entire weekend researching his band. Or the shame you felt when you realised how big they were. Or that you had overlooked them this long. Or that you loved their work. “Maybe you’re just not that good,” you grinned.
Roger shrugged. “That’s just one woman’s opinion, I suppose.”
“I suppose it is.”
“I’m glad, actually.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re not into me because I’m a rockstar.”
“But it helps,” you admitted.
Roger smirked. “You’ve got a thing for musicians? Never would have guessed.”
“You could say that.”
“So why are you on Tinder?” Roger asked, turning side on to face you. “I’m assuming picking up handsome drummers ranks pretty highly.”
“Well,” you began, moving closer to him, “all I wanted was an easy lay if I'm honest.”
The corners of Roger’s mouth perked up into a devilish smile upon hearing those words. “You know, out of all the members of a band, drummers are definitely the easiest. Speaking from experience.”
Your stomach fluttered. But you just couldn’t stop yourself. You weren’t even drunk yet. “Are you?”
Roger’s face was dangerously close to your’s at this point, his nose was practically pressed against yours. “Don’t you want to know what I want?” he prodded.
“Not particularly. No.”
“I love a girl who knows what she wants,” Roger chuckled, drawing his calloused fingers along your jawline, tilting your face up ever so slightly. Roger wasted no time in replacing his fingers with his lips, pressing kisses along your jaw, before settling on your mouth. His hand was firm at the back of your neck, pulling you into him.
You put up little resistance when things became heated, slinking over his lap to deepen the kiss.
Roger’s hands squeezed at your thighs when your tongue slipped past his lips. He was feverish, needy, almost, in the way that he kneaded your flesh, letting out breathless gasps.
The feeling that things were moving too fast began to claw at your gut. Your movements slowed, eventually breaking away from Roger.
“Are you ok?” he asked, sweeping a stray strand of hair behind your ears. His eyes moved across your features. They were loaded with concern.
More aware of the music playing in the background than before, you moved in time to the last few bars of ‘Downbound Train.’ “I’m fine,” you whispered.
Roger took your hand and kissed your palm. His eyes saddened, peeking through your fingers. “Are you sure?”
You didn’t respond. All you could do was take Roger’s hand as you scrambled to your feet. Leading him out into the centre of the living room, you pulled him into you, swaying along to ‘I’m On Fire.’ “Do you like dancing, Roger?”
Roger gave a quiet laugh and pressed his nose to yours. “Only if I have the right partner.”
You danced slowly, intimately, until Side A spun out, leaving the pair of you rocking aimlessly away in silence. Your face rested against his chest, revelling in his scent. His arms bound you to him, and his chin perched on top of your head. And for just a second, you thought you had died and gone to heaven.
“Tell me something,” Roger said, breaking the quiet calm. “Are you really just looking for an easy lay?”
You continued to dance in circles while you thought up a response. Your heart was beating frantically at the thought you might have been wrong about what you wanted. “I don’t know. Are you just looking for the odd dirty weekend at your villa?”
Roger’s chest rattled with a warm laugh. “Touché. Are you going to flip that record or are we gonna dance in silence all night?”
You groaned into his shirt at the thought. It was near impossible. As hard as you tried, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to move away from Roger.
So he did it for you. He moved over to your record player and flipped the album over on to side B, while you got to work on refilling your glasses. “I love this song,” Roger said, nodding in approval.
“Are you a big Springsteen fan?” you asked, handing his glass back to him.
“Yeah, I mean I like the E-Street band more than the stuff he did on his own. But his songs just resonate a lot with me.”
“I’ll drink to that,” you said, raising your glass.
Your glasses clinked together. And then your brain decided to remind you that this was your first date. The nerves were back. For both of you.
The quicker either of you set about drinking more, the faster any awkwardness between you could dissipate. Before you knew it, you were on your fifth glass. And you had worked your way through yet another of Springsteen’s albums, ‘Nebraska.’
You and Roger sat side by side giggling away on the couch, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. It had you conflicted, though. Not wanting to come on too strong, or be too intense. But you weren’t keen on being sidelined by Roger. He was handsome, witty and it was so easy for you to feel comfortable around him. You could see yourself being happy with him; you felt it in your gut that he was more than the easy lay you wanted. But there was so much you needed to know. Your mind raced. And your face sank.
Roger noticed and he softened his gaze, running his fingers through your hair.
“What exactly are you looking for, Roger?”
“Do you want me to be honest?” Roger slurred.
You nodded.
“You’re not going to like it.”
“Just tell me.”
“I hate being on my own. I don’t want it to be that way.”
“I get that.”
“Now what do you want?” Roger asked, jabbing his finger against your chest. “Really want.”
You rolled your eyes, knowing your motivations weren’t so different to his. “I hate being alone too,” you admitted, not being able to look at him. Instead, you stretched out your arms lazily. “Guess that makes us a pair of losers.”
Roger looked away, his eyes misting over. “Guess it does.”
Roger’s sudden, sullen demeanour had you desperate to change the subject. “So where is this villa of your’s and how dirty are we talking?”
“What villa?”
Your heart sank. “You said you had a villa.”
“I have more than one, but I like the one in Ibiza the best.”
Your mind became a hamster wheel, wondering just how rich Roger was. “You have more than one?”
Roger was nonchalant as he shrugged his shoulders and nodded. “I have the filthiest times in Ibiza, but I’m not averse to the one in LA. Especially in the winter. I hate the cold.”
“How filthy do I have to be for you to take me out there?” you joked.
Roger snorted. “I reckon I could turn you into an absolute whore.”
“Well that sounds like fun.”
“You look like you could use a holiday.”
[3/3]
Your phone wouldn’t stop buzzing as you waited patiently by the window. Pressing your knuckles to your lips, you paced, keeping your eyes trained on the street below. Roger would be here any minute now. A suitcase and a bag sat beside the door, containing everything you thought you needed for your trip.
It had taken you three days to make the decision. You lay in bed every night since Monday, wide awake, trying to suss him out.
It was insanity at best, agreeing to it. But, you knew it wouldn’t exactly be a conventional romance anyway.
He made you laugh and put you at ease. And you would be lying if you claimed he didn’t make you smile exactly when you needed it. One particular remark - 'that villa’s where I keep all ten of my wives, chained up in the basement' - that was the kicker. It tipped the scales all the way to a resounding ‘yes’ from you.
‘Any time now,’ you repeated to yourself, trying to block out the racket of your phone. You had lost count of the number of frantic messages from your friends. All of them tried to dissuade you. But the backflips your stomach did when a strange, black Mercedes slipped into view told you everything you needed to know.
Grabbing your handbag and your suitcase, you burst from your flat, trundling your brimming case noisily down the stairs. Your heart felt like it was working overtime as you flung open the front door.
A chauffeur stood by the back door of the car as Roger fell out on to the street, beaming at you.
“There she is!” He stretched out his linen-clad arms, ushering you into a hug. He felt even softer and smelled even better than he did on Monday. He certainly hugged you tighter, propping his chin up on your head. “You all set?” he mumbled, kissing your hair.
“God, I’m so nervous," you squeaked.
Roger held you away from him. From underneath his dark tinted lenses, you could tell his eyes were darting over the windows of the flats behind you, searching for intrusive gazes and curtain pullers. Then his attention snapped back to you, a look of seriousness cloaking his features as he gripped your shoulders just a little bit tighter. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. It’s your trip, you can enjoy it however you want.” He paused, looking down. The corners of his mouth perking up. “And I’m a bit nervous too, actually.”
Shattering the moment into millions of tiny fragments, the chauffeur cleared his throat audibly. “I’ve just put your suitcase in the boot, Miss. We should be going soon.”
“Yeah, thanks Lewis,” Roger piped up.
The pair of you bundled yourselves into the back seat. The saloon was cramped, unaided by you and Roger’s need to sit almost on top of each other. Both of you searched for something to say, but, over the week, you seemed to have covered everything in your texts and long-winded phone calls. From Queen’s creative differences in the studio to stakeholders messing you about at work with their half-baked briefs and their fake deadlines. You touched on it all. And now, you were wondering what else there was to say, as your knee constantly knocked against Roger’s.
Your thoughts turned to spending an entire flight in his company. How awkward that might be if you didn’t find something. And fast.
Luckily, the townscape whizzed past you at breakneck speed. You had only spent the longest ten minutes of your life in the car beside him before it was navigating its way through the airport complex. A wave of relief loosened you up, seeing the ‘drop off’ sign straight ahead. But those hoped were dashed when the chauffeur bypassed it.
“I think you’ve missed the drop-off,” you said, leaning towards the driver.
“Oh, he never misses,” Roger smirked, focusing on the view from his window.
You sank back, furrowing your brow as the car pulled up to a security barrier. You couldn’t quite pick up on what Lewis was saying, but it was enough to grant him access.
Your jaw dropped as the car rounded the corner on to the tarmac. “How the hell are you able to do that?” you asked, turning to Roger. “What about security? Baggage-”
Roger laughed, placing his arm around you. “When you’re in one of the world’s biggest rock bands, normal airport procedure doesn’t really apply, darling. But if you’re shocked by this, wait until you see the plane.”
“The plane?”
Roger pointed to the small plan directly in front of the car. “That plane.”
Your eyes widened. “You own that?”
“Well, it’s chartered. It’s very nice inside, though. Comes with a couple of stewardesses.”
It turns out ‘nice’ was an understatement. Never in your life had you seen that level of classless opulence. Your eyes were on everything as Roger led you into the cabin. Every gold accent, every marble surface, every red leather seat. Complete with two blonde and beautiful stewardesses who handed you a glass of champagne each. It was jarring, tacky and screamed ‘money.’
You followed Roger to the middle of the aircraft, where he threw himself on to one of the sofas with a relieved groan, sprawling out like a starfish. You roamed towards the bathroom, swigging away at your champagne, your mind overloaded by the situation. You poked your head inside the obnoxiously pristine cubicle. Ryanair hadn’t a patch on this. You could throw an entire orgy in here, and still have room for a few more. There was even a bottle of lube and a bowl of condoms sat on the counter. You had a feeling people like Roger used the plane for just that. “You could easily join the mile high club in here,” you thought aloud.
“Yeah, well I wouldn’t touch anything if I were you. Steven Tyler was in here last week. God knows what he gets up to.”
“Lovely,” you replied, sauntering back to Roger.
“I’m glad you like it." Roger observed you throwing back the rest of your drink. “You look like you needed that.”
You simpered, not wanting to meet Roger’s line of sight. “I did. And I think I’m going to need more.”
“More’s definitely good,” he laughed.
Without him asking, one of the stewardesses brought over a bottle, bending down at the waist to present it to Roger. It granted you both an impressive view of her cleavage. But Roger was having none of it. “That’ll be everything, thank you, Claudia,” Roger said, taking the bottle from her, his attention still on you.
Roger’s shirt was unbuttoned down to his chest, and your head had somehow found itself resting on his bare skin. You gazed up at him while he poured you both drinks and slipped your glass back into your hand.
Settling into a comfortable position as the plane took to the skies, Roger’s arm found its way around your shoulders and his lips littered kisses over your forehead between sips of his drink.
“You must be loaded,” you pondered. “How many years have Queen been going?”
“Well over twenty now, I think, why?”
“You must have seen a lot.”
“I’ve seen everything,” Roger chuckled.
“Where’s your favourite place in the world?”
“Hm, that a tough one. I love Japan. It always has this amazing energy to it. It’s brimming with people, everywhere, but it still manages to have a lot of calm about it. And the food? God, it’s delicious. Could eat Japanese food all the time.”
You raised your eyebrows. “Never would have thought that about you.”
“I’ll take you out there someday, you’ll love it.”
“Bet the industry’s changed a lot from when you started out,” you mused, turning from your side to your back.
Roger’s arm dropped around your waist. “You have no idea. It’s sort of soul destroying. All this streaming business," he began. You hung on his every word. "If people really knew how little we get from that, I hope they’d think twice and just buy a bloody album like they used to. I’ve seen a lot of good bands go under because they can’t afford to live.”
“And how have Queen lasted this long?”
“Because we’re not just ‘good.’ We’re more than that.” He sighed, draining another glass. “I’m glad we made our millions and constantly toured in those early days. Enough to outlast everyone else in the long run. Now, we can do what we like. God, I sound like I’m giving an interview.”
“I like hearing you ramble, by the way,” you encouraged. “Bet you’ve met some crazy ones though.”
“Some of them can be intense… yeah, but-”
“And you’re out there on Tinder for the world to see. Dating women half your age,” you jibed, sitting up straight. You turned around, looking at him. His cheeks were flushed as he nodded away, agreeing with everything that came out of your mouth. “How have you not ended up dead, yet?”
Roger batted his hand through the air. “No one pays any attention to the drummer. It’s that rotter, Freddie, everybody fawns over! And besides,” Roger paused, moving just inches away from your face, “You’re not planning to kill me, are you, darling?”
“How would you know?”
Something in Roger’s demeanour changed. His sleepy, half-lidded eyes turned glassy. Sinking in on himself, he looked away. “I’m a good judge of character. Or at least I hope I am, after everything.”
Unsure of whether your newfound courage was down to the champagne or the chip in Roger’s happy-go-lucky facade, you felt emboldened to ask. “Is this about the divorce?”
Sure, you had done your research. The internet was awash with gossip about his drawn out, acrimonious divorce from his wife of ten years. The vitriol. The scandal. But you wanted to hear his side of it.
Roger nodded.
Backing away, your hands fumbled in your lap. You crossed the line. Too much too soon. How could that possibly have been the case with you and Roger was anyone’s guess, but the silence that fell over you two had you eyeing the emergency exit, wondering if you could survive a 27,000-foot drop.
“Put some music on, will you, darling,” Roger said, taking your empty glass and refilling it. “Anything you like. Just plug your phone in.” He nodded towards a towering sound system at the back of the plane.
You went over to it and pulled out your phone. You felt like an idiot, but you had already made a playlist loaded with songs that reminded you of him. All before your time. Your finger hovered over the shuffle button, deliberating whether to put it on. You gave in and hit the button, letting the first few bars of Moonage Daydream to pour from the speakers, making the cabin vibrate.
“I love this song,” Roger said quietly.
You turned back to him, feeling the rush of nervousness in your chest, seeing the way he stared at you. Aided by the champagne, you began to dance. You could feel his gaze relishing every inch of you and the way you moved. The way you swept through the blistering rays that shone through the windows. The halo it created around you.
“Aren’t you going to dance with me?” you pouted, nearing the end of the track.
“I prefer watching you, darling,” Roger said, lowering his sunglasses over his eyes.
“What if I put on something you’ll really like?” you pushed with another quick twirl.
“Try me.”
You went back over to the sound system and scrolled through the collection of songs, pressing play on the perfect number. You glanced over your shoulder at Roger’s reaction.
“Cover Me?” Roger asked, raising his eyebrows. “I’m tempted.”
You shimmied over to him.
His foot, tapped away. His fingers drummed against the back of the sofa. A smirk on his lips as he looked up at you. “You’re gonna have to make me.”
You accepted the challenge.
In one fell swoop, you grabbed his shirt collar and hauled him to his feet, sending the remainder of its buttons popping free.
Roger quietly stood in front of you, dying to break out in a fit of hysterics. He desperately wanted to move with you. Instead, he made you do all the work.
But that was how you wanted it to play out. You wanted to be in control. To tease. He was so strung out that even the feeling of your fingertips curling through the hair on his chest made his breathing hitch. You prowled around him, working the fabric down his arms, pressing into his shoulders. “You’re so tense,” you remarked. “Don’t tell me I got you all worked up this fast.”
“You should be so lucky,” Roger quipped, attempting to play it cool. Full circle, you stalked into view again. His expression flipped from a broad grin to a look of false seriousness.
“That’s funny,” you began, pressing yourself into him, “because that cock of yours feels pretty hard to me. Did you like what you saw?”
Roger still wore a wicked smirk, trying to avoid eye contact. Instead, he concentrated on something over your shoulder, leaving you both in silence for a moment.
Then, when you least expected it, he barged past you, seizing your hand on the way to the back of the plane. He dragged you all the way to the bathroom. Bundling you inside and slamming the door closed.
Before you knew it, you were sandwiched between Roger and the counter.
His hands shook, fumbling with the buttons on your blouse, distracting himself with nipping at the sensitive skin on your neck. And taunting you. “So you like teasing me, Princess?” He murmured, yanking your shirt off.
Your fingers snaked into Roger’s hair, while your free hand took the opportunity to ghost over his cock through his jeans. “You’re easy to tease.”
Your sass was short-lived; Roger had taken to pinching your nipples through your bra, in time to his lips marking you up. It made you throw yourself back against the mirror, granting him easier access to the rest of you.
“God, you’re gorgeous,” he murmured, moving lower over your chest.
All you could do was tug your lower lip between your teeth, watching as he made his way down. Your bra was gone before you knew it, and his hands had already found their way to the zipper on your jeans. Roger kneeled down, lavishing your stomach with slow wet kisses, looking up at you through his lashes. His fingers clawed at your waistband, dragging them lower - your underwear with them - into a pool around your ankles.
You could feel that need spreading through you like wildfire. You struggled, even just to breathe, driving your hips against Roger’s efforts. Your fingers laced into his hair. It was a feeble effort at leading him to where you really needed him.
Of course, Roger noticed, smiling to himself. He grasped at your thighs, causing you to falter. “I can’t wait to taste you, Princess. Would you like that?”
“Yes please,” you sang, clutching the edge of the counter for support.
“Hop up there. Let’s get a good look at you.”
Without missing a beat, you hauled yourself atop the freezing marble counter, lewdly presenting yourself.
He seemed like all his Christmases had come at once. Like he wasn’t sure where to look, or even where to place his hands. They just skimmed, ponderously over your inner thighs, never quite going anywhere.
“Are you going to keep gawping at it, Roger?”
That drew a response out of him. The realisation that he was required to actually do something, rather than admire you for hours. Not that he would have minded. “Right, boss,” he grinned. He settled between your legs, dragging his thumb over your slick, pink folds, savouring just how aroused you were. “So pretty,” he remarked, before leaning in.
One long, lazy lap of you was all it took for all your inhibitions to melt away. Those tense and taut muscles in every part of your body loosened, while Roger’s mouth devoured and savoured every dripping wet inch of you. And then an almighty shockwave hit you. Roger’s tongue circled your clit, stringing you out again, forcing a surprised moan from you.
Roger’s quiet chuckles reverberated through you like tiny aftershocks.
It had you wondering what his next trick was.
He was hellbent on making quick work of you, his tongue zeroing in on your sensitive little nub, making you writhe against him. Ratcheting up your pleasure until it felt like all your nerves were on fire. And then slipping a finger inside you. And then another. And another. Curling them in on themselves, like they were daring you to claw at Roger’s hair with just a little bit more aggression. Daring you to howl louder for him.
“You love having that tight little cunt of yours stretched, don’t you, Princess?” Roger taunted, moving back to look up at you, his chin glistening.
“Yes,” you sighed.
You could feel your orgasm beginning to build. You weren’t exactly in control of your body or the things that came out of your mouth. But the words that tumbled from them shocked you, urging him on. “Just like that, Daddy.” It was as if your body had been torn in half out of shame and pure ecstasy.
Roger never said anything about it. In fact, you could practically feel him grinning as his mouth delved back down to finish what he had started.
“Oh, god, Daddy, I’m so close.” There it was again.
It raised nothing but a giggle from Roger.
Between that, his mouth and his fingers, you were teetering on the brink of something wonderful.
“Repeat it, Princess,” Roger urged, “tell me how good I make you feel.”
“Da-”
Before you could finish that sentence, you lost control, viciously trembling on Roger’s fingers.
You still saw stars when you came to. Roger had flipped you over, leaving you face to face with your own reflection. He was fumbling away in the background with a condom wrapper. “That was amazing,” you panted, burying your face in your arms.
Roger ran his thumb over your slit again. “It’s not over yet, sweetheart.”
You swayed your hips in response, smirking over at him in the mirror.
“You want Daddy’s cock in you, Princess?” His expression was just as wicked.
You nodded, still making eye contact with him.
But he taunted you. “I wanna hear you say it,” he said, drawing the tip of his cock through your folds, coating it until it was slick with your juices.
“Please Daddy, I need your cock inside me,” you whined.
“I’m never gonna tire of hearing you say that, Princess,” he said, slipping into you.
Roger was far thicker than you had anticipated, forcing a shocked groan from you as he stretched you to your limit. Of course, he was analysing you in the mirror, studying every small change in your expression. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah,” you sighed, nodding vigorously, “I think.”
“You want me to go slow?” Roger asked, rubbing the small of your back, gingerly sinking back and forth.
“No. God no.”
“That’s my girl,” Roger beamed, thrusting into you harder. “Tell me if it gets too much for you, Princess.”
It was already too much for you in the best way possible. The more pace Roger gathered, the more unsteady your legs felt. The more he threatened to hurl you over the edge again.
There was nothing left to do but babble on about how incredible he felt. You couldn’t even look at yourself in the mirror. Desperate to hold on for just a little bit longer.
“You’re taking Daddy’s cock so well, Princess,” Roger growled in your ear. “And you look so beautiful.” One of his hands found its way to your hair, pulling you upright while his other arm squeezed around your waist. He goaded you. “Look at yourself, Princess, look how good you’re being. Open those eyes.” Even just hearing him say those things sent a shiver through you.
But actually opening your eyes, watching him fill you. Seeing your skin, damp with sweat all because of what he was doing to you. The way you writhed against his grasp, your chest bouncing with every merciless thrust. The sheer lust in his eyes, glancing at your reflection, as he continued to taunt and tease.
“Touch yourself for me. Touch yourself, Princess.”
You did exactly as Roger told you, spinning hasty circles around your clit as that warmth built in your stomach again.
“How does Daddy make you feel?”
There it was again. Sending another searing spark through your body. “You make me feel so good, Daddy. Oh god, Daddy, it feels so full,” you whimpered, nearing the end of your rope.
“Are you gonna come on Daddy’s cock? Be a good girl and show Daddy how much you like it.”
Every time he said it, it drove you closer. And he wasn’t far behind. Your bodies were pressed so tightly together that you could feel the rattle of his breath and every animalistic growl that escaped him, growing more and more ragged.
“Yes, Daddy.”
Your head spun; he plunged you into delirium. Unable to focus on anything else, you lurched forward over the counter as it hit you. And Roger.
When it all subsided, you turned around to face him. He was already half dressed; jeans on, his shirt dangling from his hand. Your chest still heaved, your muscles ablaze.
But the look that Roger wore was something else. A complete one-eighty from moments ago. Soft, and warm, he pressed himself against you, glueing you to him. He draped his shirt over your shoulders, placing a series of kisses on your damp forehead.
“That was amazing,” you sighed, wrapping your arms around him.
“I never knew you were that filthy,” he chuckled.
“Well, you did say you wanted dirty weekends at the villa,” you mocked.
“How are you feeling?”
“Exhausted.”
“If you wanna sleep it off, I won’t hold it against you.”
“Sounds like a good idea.”
“Right,” Roger began, unsticking himself from you and unlocking the door, “I’ll leave you to clean yourself up. My shirt looks good on you, by the way.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sound of waves crashing drew you back to consciousness. Rolling over onto your back, you enjoyed it for a moment. Your awareness sharpened. Your chest rose and fell steadily under a light layer of silk, and a gentle breeze filled the blank space around your body. The last you remembered was falling asleep in Roger’s arms. On the plane. In the air.
Your eyes shot open to find your reflection staring back at you. Sitting up, you took in more of the room. The vast, empty space in the bed. The impersonal feel of the dresser to your right, neither a book nor a photograph adorning it. The way the red curtains wafted into the room. You craned your neck forward, catching the view out of the open balcony doors to be met by a bright blue sea for miles ahead. But there was no one there. No Roger in sight.
Panic seared through you as your legs dangled off the edge of the bed.
You sighed and embarked on a journey down the hall. It was lined with gold and platinum discs from all of Queen’s albums and large prints of the band in action. Portraits of Roger and his bandmates looking much younger. ‘Like fine wine,’ you muttered to yourself, sauntering through to the staircase. It looked out on to a grand, marble reception area with huge, marble doors at the front. It was unlike anything you had ever seen or been inside, and certainly not what you expected from Roger when he talked about his favourite villa.
As you began to descend the stairs, something caught your attention. Music. Finally, some sign of life.
You followed the sound down the stairs and through the hall, into a rustic kitchen. Standing at the island, with his back to the door, was Roger. Clad in white shorts and a Hawaiian shirt, he shook his hips to the music, in time with the drinks mixer in his hand.
“This song sounds familiar,” you mused, causing him to jump.
Roger turned around, his glasses askew on his face. Realising it was you, his form softened. He beckoned you into a hug. “Did you sleep well, darling?” he asked, kissing the top of your head.
“I did, thank you,” you responded, beaming up at him.
Roger shook the mixer, filling the room with the shimmering sound of crushed ice. “I’m making margaritas,” he announced, “want one?”
“I’d love one,” you said, breaking away from Roger’s embrace. Hauling yourself up on to one of the wooden stools around the island, you watched as Roger poured the drinks, finishing them off with a twist of lime. He looked rather pleased with himself, sliding it across the counter to you. He watched, waiting with bated breath, as you lifted the glass to your lips.
But then you paused, sitting it back down on the counter. “How did you get me in here while I was asleep?”
“I didn’t wanna wake you,” Roger shrugged. “Just asked the driver if he could give me a hand getting you in and out the car. You never stirred once,” he explained taking a sip of his own drink, nodding in approval. “Christ, that’s good. You must be the heaviest sleeper I’ve ever met. But you did nearly sink an entire bottle of fizz on your own so I won’t hold it against you.”
You laughed, taking a swig of your cocktail. “Good.”
Roger leaned over the counter, closer to you, smirking. “You know, the cleaning lady genuinely thought I’d snapped and brought a dead body back.”
That wasn’t the worst joke Roger had hit you with, but you had made a habit of hyping up the shock value in those little tidbits he shared with you, moving back in your seat, open-mouthed. “She didn’t?”
“Yeah. Guess what I said to her?”
“You told her you were getting laid tonight, didn’t you?” you said, slapping Roger’s arm.
He sunk his teeth into his lower lip, slowly nodding.
“Oh you sick fuck,” you scolded.
“I know you love it though.”
“That’s debatable,” you quipped, taking another sip. “I love this album. I feel like I’ve heard these songs before. What is it?”
“It’s 1989 by Ryan Adams.”
You slammed down your glass and slapped the counter. “That’s where I’ve heard this before! These are Taylor Swift songs!”
Roger narrowed his eyes. “No, they’re not.”
A mocking tone took hold of your voice. With your hands on your hips, you sat up straight. “Uh, yes they are!”
“She can’t bloody write songs like this,” Roger said, rolling his eyes. “This guy, though? Genius.”
“She wrote those songs. And, he’s a known sex pest, Roger,” you explained. “Come to think of it, that’s probably why you like him, right?”
“That’s a low blow,” Roger said, sliding his phone into his eye line. “So if I’m right about him writing these songs, what do I get?”
“A kick up the arse.”
“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing, darling.”
“And if you’re wrong, you have to take me to all the villas you own. I quite like this one but I’m dying to see what the others-”
“You’re right.”
“What?”
“She did write those songs,” he said, showing you the Wikipedia entry. “You’re right.”
“Told you.”
“Well, short of going to the other villas, what are your plans for the rest of the day, darling?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” you sighed, “what do you want to do?”
“It’s your holiday.”
“Honestly, I just want to get out of these clothes and chill out for a bit. I’m exhausted. Maybe you could show me around tomorrow?”
“We could go for a nice drive around the island if you want? Get some nice food, soak up a bit of sun.”
“Sounds good!”
“And just now, why don’t we take the margaritas upstairs and have a nice long soak?”
Like a pair of giddy teenagers, you and Roger raced each other up the marble staircase, and back into the master bedroom. You beat him, of course, and stood aimlessly in the doorway, wondering which door on the wall led to the bathroom. You hadn’t thought to find it when you woke up.
Eventually, Roger caught up. “It’s the first one, darling. But you missed the bigger bathroom, at the top of the stairs,” he explained, taking your hand and leading you back along the hallway. “We’ll never fit in that tiny little shower cubicle in my room.”
“Well I think you need a bigger shower,” you quipped. But you were quickly silenced by the sight of the free-standing tub in the master bathroom. Completely marble, again, with gold accents. You could easily fit an entire football team in it. But what struck you most was the view. The glass of the window stretched from floor to ceiling, providing you with a clear view of the sea and the beach below.
“Why would I get a bigger shower when I could have all ten of my wives in this?” Roger joked, sitting the margarita jug and glasses on the counter opposite the bath.
“Don’t you get worried people might see you?”
“Why would I get worried? It should be a bloody treat for them.”
You waited patiently as Roger poured bubbles and bath salts into the tub. Awkwardly thumbing at the collar of your shirt, you wondered where this was going. If this was going to be anything like the situation on the plane. You weren’t exactly feeling flirtatious anymore. You suddenly felt gross. Unsexy. As Roger began to shed his shirt and shorts. Finally his underwear. Your hands shook as you did the same.
“What’s the matter, darling?” Roger asked with one foot in the bath.
“What?” You asked. “Nothing.”
“Your face is like fizz. You sure you’re alright?”
You laughed. “Guess I’m not as bold when I’m sober.”
Roger sank down beneath the bubbles and peered over the top at you. “For what it’s worth, I’m pretty sloshed. You could look like Elton John right now, and I’d still adore you.”
“You’re not helping,” you said, tugging off your jeans.
Roger watched you, utterly spellbound as you climbed in beside him. “You’re right, I just wanted to get you naked again. What can I do to help?”
You looked at him with one eyebrow raised. It wasn’t as easy as that, but you had to commend his desire to try. “I don’t know. I’m still really nervous,” you shrugged, allowing the warm water to soothe your weary bones.
He studied you. The way his eyes darted over your features, memorising every detail, told you he was deep in thought. Wondering what he could do to put you at ease. But you could tell he felt defeated.
“This is all new to me too,” he sighed.
“You’re far better at this than I am. Waking up here, I had one of those ‘what the fuck am I doing?’ moments. I’m here. In a villa. On an island. With a man that I only met at the start of the week. And he’s far older than I’d ever usually go for.”
Roger’s shoulders sank. His eyes did the same, focusing on the margarita in his hand. “I don’t want you to think I’m some manipulative, perverted old man. I’m sorry if I’ve given you that impression.”
Roger was on the wrong track. You shimmied over to him and ran your fingers over his jaw. “Never! That’s the thing. I like you. This is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done, and here I am, too stuck inside my own head to enjoy it.”
He keened into your touch for a moment, enjoying the contact. “That’s good,” he began, taking your hand and pressing your knuckles to his lips, looking at you with those glassy blue eyes of his. “Because I like you a lot.”
That was it. That was all he had to do to make you melt and throw yourself into his arms. You could think of worse ways to spend your evening, than watching the sun go down, in the biggest bathtub you had ever seen, with a handsome, filthy rich rockstar playing with your hair. “It’s just gonna take a bit of getting used to. Nothing serious.”
>>NEXT PARTS>>
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Angiewolf AU - Scents
I’ve mentioned before that Tate is Fiddleford and Ford’s son in the Angiewolf AU (as per usual for my nonsense), and that Ford is unaware that Tate is his son, since Tate was born after Ford went through the portal. The werewolves catch on, because they can smell Tate’s parentage in his scent, which leads to Ford eventually finding this out when he gets turned during Weirdmageddon. But there’s a certain brand-new werewolf that would have no clue how to interpret Ford’s scent being in Tate’s scent. That werewolf is young Dipper Pines, and it’s about damn time I wrote the scene where he finds out Tate is his cousin, so here it is.
Dipper and Mabel lounged lazily on the couch in Stan and Angie’s living room, watching TV. Dipper’s ears picked up on the sound of footsteps approaching the house. His head whipped around to stare at the front door.
“Who is it?” Mabel asked, not even bothering to look up from her knitting. Dipper sniffed the air. He could make out a scent like lake water, but it wasn’t familiar.
“Dunno,” he said with a shrug. He turned his attention back to the newest episode of Ducktective. The front door opened.
“Auntie Angie, I brought the things you asked for,” a voice said.
“You can just drop ‘em off on the livin’ room table,” Angie’s voice called from the backyard, where she was weeding the vegetable garden.
“Okay,” came the reply. Dipper and Mabel looked up at the person who walked into the living room. Mabel cocked her head.
“You’re Grunkle Fidds’ son, right?” she asked.
“Yep. Tate McGucket.” Tate grinned sheepishly. “You must be Dipper and Mabel. I kept meanin’ to stop by ‘n meet you, what with us being cousins and all, but I was a bit busy.”
“We’re not really your cousins though, are we? I mean, Grunkle Fidds isn’t really our grunkle,” Dipper said. Tate shrugged. He set the pile of books he was holding down on the coffee table.
“Sure, not by blood. But McGuckets don’t really care ‘bout blood relation.”
“I like that,” Mabel said after a moment. Tate smiled at her.
“I like it, too.” Tate shoved his hands into his pockets. “So, I heard there was a commotion of sorts about a month ago. Apparently you two are in on the big ole secret?”
“Yeah. Dipper got bit by Molly, so…” Mabel said. Tate’s eyes were hidden behind thick bangs and a cap, but he managed to give off the impression of surprise.
“Wait, really? Auntie Angie didn’t tell me that. Is- how did that happen?”
“It was an accident,” Dipper mumbled. “I don’t really wanna talk about it.”
“My cousins eat a lotta meat. Do you have to do that too?”
“Yeah. But like I said, I don’t wanna talk about it.”
“Sure. That’s fine. I should get goin’, anyways. But before I do, Dipper, would ya like to get a good whiff of me?” Tate asked. Dipper frowned at him. Tate shrugged again. “Auntie Angie says it’s common courtesy for werewolves.”
“Uh…sure,” Dipper said after a moment. Tate held out his hand. Dipper sniffed it cautiously.
Yep. Smells like a lake, like I thought. But also sort of like pine trees. Haven’t I met someone with that scent? It’s familiar. Dipper leaned back against the couch again.
“Thanks.”
“No problem.” Tate returned his hand to his pocket. “I better get back to work. Maybe I’ll see you two later.”
“We’re havin’ a fam’ly dinner tomorrow night, and ya best come!” Angie shouted from outside.
“Okay, Auntie, okay!” Tate called back. “Later, kiddos.” Tate left the living room. The front door opened and closed.
“That was kinda weird,” Mabel said.
“Yeah, his smell was almost…familiar,” Dipper said.
“That’s not what I was talking about.” Dipper looked over at Mabel. “You didn’t notice?” she asked.
“Notice what?”
“Dipper, he had twelve fingers. Just like Grunkle Ford and Molly.” Mabel frowned. “You really didn’t see that?”
“I was a bit distracted by his smell.”
“What did he smell like?”
“A lake.”
“Doesn’t he run that ranger station by the lake? Makes sense to me.”
“Yeah.” Dipper thought back to the second scent he’d detected. Cedar. “I guess.” He looked over at the door leading to the backyard. He could hear Angie humming to herself as she tended the garden. “I’m gonna go ask Grauntie Angie a question real quick.”
“Okay. I’ll let you know what happens while you’re gone,” Mabel said, picking up her knitting again. She resumed splitting her interest between her latest sweater and the TV. Dipper hopped off the couch and went into the backyard, closing the sliding glass door behind him. Angie looked up. She beamed.
“Want to help me out?”
“Uh, no, thanks,” Dipper said. Angie frowned. She wiped her hands on her jeans, leaving streaks of soil.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think my nose might be a bit messed up.”
“Hon, yer nose is lovely. Both in appearance and function.”
“No, that’s not what I-” Dipper huffed impatiently. He walked over to where Angie was still standing in the vegetable garden. “Tate came over and he smelled like a lake.”
“Yep, that’s his scent. Always has been. I s’ppose with his job, he finally smells like a lake to humans, too.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t the only thing I smelled,” Dipper said. A strange expression crossed Angie’s face.
“Oh?”
“He smelled- he sorta smelled like Great-Uncle Ford.” Angie nodded slowly.
“He’s got cedar in his scent, yes.”
“But it wasn’t just, like, cedar in general. It was the exact same smell of cedar that Great-Uncle Ford has,” Dipper insisted. Angie chewed on her lip. “Am I just imagining it?”
“…No. Yer not.” Angie jerked her head towards the bench set up on the porch a few feet away. “Take a seat, hon. I’ll explain.” Dipper followed her to the bench. Once they had sat down, Angie put her hands on her knees, clearly working up the courage to speak. “Scents of folks include their parentage. You may have noticed that Molly sometimes smells a bit like motor oil, or Emily smells a bit smoky. That’s Stan’s scent in ‘em.”
“Sometimes they smell a bit like you, too,” Dipper said. Angie blinked.
“You can tell when they smell like me?”
“Sometimes.”
“Huh. Usually, my scent gets overridden by Stan’s, since his is more noticeable. I wouldn’t expect an inexperienced pup to pick up on that. Then again, yer quite precocious.” Angie took a breath. “When ya smell that, it’s lettin’ ya know who their parents are. Scents fer werewolves also include what pack they belong to, who they got turned by…it takes a lot of practice to be able to interpret scents properly, but once ya do, ya can learn an awful lot about a person just by smellin’ ‘em.”
“Can you teach me all of that?”
“Sure! I’d love to.” Angie rubbed the back of her neck. “But back to the subject at hand. I want you to promise me something.” Her voice was the most serious he had ever heard it.
“What?”
“Promise me that what I’m about to tell ya won’t leave the two of us,” Angie said somberly. Dipper swallowed.
“I- I promise.”
“The scent ya smelled in addition to Tate’s base scent was his parentage scent.”
“Parentage? But-” Dipper paused to think. “Tate has twelve fingers.” Angie nodded. “Like Great-Uncle Ford. And he got some of his scent from Great-Uncle Ford.” Angie nodded again. “Is- is Tate Great-Uncle Ford’s son?”
“Yes,” Angie said softly. Dipper stared at her.
“Wh- but how?”
“That’s information I can’t give out. Technically speakin’, I shouldn’t have even given ya the information I just did.” Angie smiled weakly at him. “But yer just a lil pup, learnin’ how to use yer senses properly. It wouldn’t be right to let ya think yer nose is actin’ wonky, when it’s really doin’ exactly what it should be.”
“Tate is Great-Uncle Ford’s son,” Dipper repeated quietly. Angie nodded. “Who all knows?”
“All us wolves know since we can smell it, and so does yer Grunkle Fidds, of course. But Soos, Wendy, Mabel, and Ford don’t know. And it’ll stay that way until Fidds makes the information public.” Angie grimaced. “Or until Ford realizes and decides to just blurt it out. He’s got a talent fer sayin’ things without thinkin’ of the consequences.”
“He’s done that before?”
“He’s done that a million times before, sugar-cube.” Angie stood. “But right now, I need to get back to the garden. Once I’m done, we can set up some sniffin’ lessons. Teach ya how to read scents better.” Dipper nodded eagerly. Angie ruffled his hair. “Yer doin’ an excellent job, lil pup. One day, ya might even lead yer own pack.”
“…I don’t know if I want to do that.”
“Ah, well…” Angie smiled crookedly. “Life don’t really care what ya want or don’t want. Especially in Gravity Falls. Head on back inside ‘fore ya miss any more of that duck show you kids and my husband are so gaga over.” Dipper got off the bench and dutifully went back inside. As he closed the door behind him, Mabel looked up.
“What’d you guys talk about?” she asked. Dipper shrugged. He took a seat on the couch.
“Just werewolf stuff. What happened while I was gone?”
#*slams hands on table* WEREWOOF DIPPER DEVELOPS SOME PUPPER TRAITS#I decided that while writing this he picks up the ''stares at door when guests arrive'' trait#might be some other pupper traits but that's the most important one#Angiewolf AU#Angie McGucket#Dipper Pines#Tate McGucket#Mabel Pines#my writing#ficlet#speecher speaks
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standrew + sasha sloan - runaway (angsty af) ┰ω┰
hello friend, this is so delayed and I am so sorry!
anyways, four months to the day after I posted my last fic, I’m back, with a metric ton of angst and unresolved romantic tension! set in the days leading up to Steven’s move to New York!
~4k, on ao3 here. the song that inspired this can be found here.
run away, runaway.
The Uber that picks Steven up at six o’clock in the morning smells like fresh leather and pine air freshener, like it rolled off the lot of a dealership only a few minutes ago. The inside is completely lacking in personality and customization. There are no trinkets on the dashboard, nothing dangling from the rear view mirror, nothing but NPR piping from the speakers.
Frankly, it’s almost strangely appropriate - a brand new car come to ferry him away to a brand new life.
The driver briefly greets him before pulling away from the curb and lapsing into silence, and Steven doesn’t try to pursue a conversation. For starters, it’s too early, and he’s too damn tired; he’d gotten maybe an hour of solid, decent sleep last night, even though he turned in around midnight. Most of his time in bed had been spent tossing and turning on his narrow couch, trying to find a spot that would send him off to sleep despite the racing of his mind and the way it had been desperately replaying every minute of the night’s events.
As the driver turns onto another street, one of a handful that will eventually lead to the interstate and then LAX and then New York City, the night starts unfurling again in the confines of his mind. He doesn’t bother trying to shove the recollection away, doesn’t try to distract himself with staring out the window at the passing scenery; it’s probably better that he get the replay over with now, so that he can get some sleep on the airplane and try to prepare himself for the hectic days and weeks to come.
So he closes his eyes, leans his head back against the firm leather of the seat, and lets last night (and the events that led up to it) wash over him in a wave composed of nothing less than pure and utter regret.
—
It’s Adam’s idea to have a farewell dinner.
He brings it up at lunchtime, a week before Steven’s official last day in the LA office, while they’re sitting at one of the picnic tables outside, sheltered from the sun by a massive umbrella and gorging themselves on food truck tacos. He says it so seriously that, for a moment, Steven can’t help but wonder if Adam has somehow misunderstood, that he’s gotten the impression that this is a permanent goodbye.
“You know I’ll be back here like, once a month, right?” he asks, wiping guacamole away from the corner of his mouth. “Probably more than that, actually.”
“I know,” Adam answers with a slight shrug of his shoulders and a fraction of a smile. “But still.”
“I think it’s a great idea,” Andrew chimes in from Steven’s side. Despite the fact that each side of the table could easily fit three people (or four if they squeezed together), Andrew is pressed against his side, elbow to elbow and thigh to thigh, like they’re filming an episode of Worth It, warming Steven even more thoroughly than the sun. “Who knows when we’ll be able to hang out again? We’ll probably be too busy working on the show whenever you come back.”
“I’ll make time,” Steven replies, feeling a frown tugging at his mouth. The three of them had discussed the logistics of his move, how it would affect the show, in fair detail when he’d initially told them about it, but he can’t help but feel that he’s missing something here, that he’s maybe overestimated how well they took the news. However, going down that path seems like it could be a tangent that could drag them all down in the dumps, so instead, he plasters a smile onto his face and leans across the table to steal a piece of chicken that has fallen out of Adam’s taco. “But sure, we can do dinner. Where do you want to go?”
“You should pick,” Adam says, carefully pulling his taco back so that it’s out of Steven’s reach. “You pick, and we can make the rest of the arrangements.”
Even though it’s really not that big of a decision (especially when compared to the decision that precipitated it, the decision to move across the country on what is really a hunch and a feeling), it distracts Steven’s mind for the rest of the day. Every time he opens a tab on his laptop, intent on researching something or checking his email, he somehow finds himself looking up restaurants both new and old, places they’ve visited over the course of Worth It and places he’s had on his must try list for months. No matter how hard he tries to concentrate, it keeps happening, over and over again, and finally, when five o’clock comes around, he throws in the towel and dedicates himself fully to the task.
After half an hour purely devoted to research, he makes a decision.
He’s just grabbed his phone to text Adam and Andrew when the latter comes up the stairs from the lobby, burying a yawn into the crook of his elbow. His shirt is dotted with dark stains and dustings of flour, and his hair is a strange mixture of flattened and spiky. Per the usual, Steven’s heart skips a beat at the sight of him and, also per the usual, he forces himself to ignore that particular skip so that he can speak without fumbling every word from his mouth.
“Think Adam would be down with Le Petit Paris for dinner?”
“For next week?” A small smile forms on Andrew’s mouth as he drops down into his seat at the desk beside Steven’s. “Yeah, definitely. Good pick.”
It’s such a casual phrase, really means nothing in the grand scheme of things (frankly, Steven is pretty sure that he could pick most any restaurant in the city, and Andrew would think it was a good pick), but warmth still flickers in his cheeks and chest all the same.
“Thanks,” he replies, busying himself with packing up his laptop so that he doesn’t have to focus on trying to pull his gaze away from Andrew’s smiling face. “See you tomorrow?”
“Bright and early. Night, Steven.”
There’s always been something different about the way Andrew says his name, something that makes it so much more than an absent minded way to end a sentence. It’s almost feels considerate, somehow, coming from Andrew’s mouth, and Steven has to swallow heavily before he answers.
“Yeah. Night, Andrew.”
&.
The week seems to pass in the blink of an eye.
Every available moment is filled with something to do. When he isn’t at work, he’s at home, figuring out which of his possessions should go into storage for the time being and boxing up the rest, or he’s out with his friends or people from the office, soaking up every last bit of California sun, because he doesn’t know when he’ll be returning for more.
By the time Thursday morning comes around, his apartment looks like he’s just moved in. The only article of furniture still in one piece is the couch, which he’s been sleeping on for a few days. He spends the first half of the day keeping track of everything as movers load the carefully packed cardboard boxes and furniture into a truck, ready to take it across the country. When they drive away, his apartment is so empty that every sound he makes, every footstep and hum, echoes back at him.
Even though there’s probably some more cleaning he could do, the echoing starts to get at him, and he heads into work shortly after lunch, aiming to have a productive afternoon, to wrap up some stuff that will be easier to handle in person than from a few thousand miles away.
Instead, he spends the afternoon saying goodbye to what feels like seemingly everyone in the LA office. He picks up stakes a few times, moves to a different part of the compound so he can maybe have a better chance of focusing, but each time is to no avail. Someone, whether it be Jen or Kelsey or Garrett or Alix, always finds him.
At four thirty, he gives up. He isn’t going to get anything done, not now, and besides, their dinner reservations are in an hour; even if he didmanage to buckle down and focus, he’d get torn away again just as he was starting to hit a groove. So instead, he heads back upstairs to his desk to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything, to make sure he hasn’t left behind a mess for whoever will be taking his place.
He hasn’t. It could use a quick wipe down, but other than that, he’s already managed to remove all traces from it. The little trinkets that have accumulated on it over the years are gone, removed one at a time over the past few weeks. The drawer underneath it is empty of any personal effects; there are a few pens and other supplies rolling around, but he decides to leave them there as a kind of housewarming gift for his replacement.
Compared to Andrew’s desk on his left, with its box full of plushies and the photographs carefully peeking out of books, it looks downright sterile. At the sight of it, Steven’s chest grows momentarily tight, and he forces himself to tear his eyes away.
He’s not going to let this be a problem. He’s spent years carefully keeping his emotions at bay, keeping his feelings for Andrew tucked away the best he can. On the few occasions that they’ve escaped, he’s always been able to come up with a reasonable excuse, always been able to explain them away as a bit for an episode or the result of one glass of wine too many.
As much as it aches to swallow them down now, he’ll be damned if he’s going to let them slip out on today of all days.
Leaving his desk behind, he heads across the compound until he reaches the studio where Eating Your Feed is filming. He can hear laughter leaking out through the door, and part of him wants to slip inside, wants to watch his friends having fun, wants to watch Andrew having fun. Part of him wants to simply memorize the smile that’s no doubt gracing Andrew’s face, wants to keep it close to his chest so that he’ll have it on the long nights between now and the next time he comes into town.
But, as nice of a memento that would be, it would also hurt, having that smile living in his mind but not being able to access the real thing, and while Steven may be many things, he’s not that much of a masochist.
So instead, he leans back against the wall opposite the studio and distracts himself with his phone while he waits for filming to finish up. Thankfully, he only has to wait about twenty minutes before the door opens, and Niki and Rie come out. He says yet another round of goodbyes to them, and they’re just heading down the corridor when Adam, Annie and Andrew come out as well.
“Ready for dinner?” Adam asks.
“Whenever you are. Do you guys wanna change first?” Adam and Annie shake their heads, but Andrew nods emphatically.
“Yeah, please. That room is way too hot.”
“That room is the perfect temperature,” Annie responds, deadpan. “You just sweat more than any human being should.”
Andrew shrugs. “You’re not wrong. Meet you guys out in the parking lot.”
Adam is the only one of them who drove in today (Steven sold his car last week, and Andrew’s is in the shop), so they wait by his car, leaning against the hood and talking about how the shoot had gone. The evening looks like it’s going to be a beautiful one; the sun has begun to slip towards the horizon, still providing illumination but with less of the heavy heat that’s been sitting low over the city for the last few weeks, and there’s not a cloud in the sky, no sign of any rain that might put a wash on the evening.
Really, he couldn’t have asked for a better last night.
But that’s before Andrew comes out of the building.
At the sight of him, the words Steven was planning on saying to Adam and Annie die in his throat. Andrew’s plain white t-shirt is gone, replaced with a black button-up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the cords of his forearms and the watch strapped around his wrist. It looks like he ran water through his hair as well; it’s slicked over to one side, flyaways tamped down for the time being, although Steven wouldn’t be surprised if they reappeared soon.
Simply put, even though there’s nothing particularly new or unique about the outfit, nothing out of the ordinary, Andrew looks amazing, and Steven suddenly feels like this is a horrible idea. He feels like he should come up with an excuse, any excuse, to get out of dinner, because this is going to be painful. This is going to hurt more than he’s prepared to deal with.
But it’s too late to back out. Andrew has already reached the car, and Adam has dug his keys from the depths of his pocket. If Steven were to flee now, he’d be hurting his friends, and he wants that like he wants a hole in the head.
So, with his heart heavy in his chest, he slides into the back beside Andrew, tries not to catch the scent of Andrew’s cologne (and fails), and attempts to portion off the part of his brain that has a thing for Andrew, that has had a thing for him pretty well from the first day they met.
&.
Remarkably, he manages to keep himself under control for almost the entirety of dinner.
They keep the conversation light, turned away from the real reason they’re there. They talk about work and movies and the amazing food in front of them, about Andrew’s new cat and Adam and Annie’s new apartment, but they do not talk about the move.
Nor do they talk about the fact that there’s something between Andrew and Steven, something hovering between them like an unseen fifth person, something that has Steven’s nerves pulled taut.
The tables at the restaurant are not unreasonably small, but somehow, Steven finds himself repeatedly brushing against Andrew. When they move to grab a piece of cutlery or their respective glasses of wine, their arms touch, and it feels like fire singing Steven’s skin. Even when they’re eating, Andrew’s knee keeps bumping against Steven’s.
But even more so than that, Steven can feel Andrew staring at him, almost from the very moment they sit down. Andrew’s gaze has always heavy, borderline overbearing, but Steven thought that he’d become accustomed to it, that he’d become adept at shaking the weight of it off like it was no more than a feather.
Apparently not.
It has to be obvious to Adam and Annie, but neither of them say a word or draw any attention to it. What they do do, however, is conveniently excuse themselves to the washroom once they’re finished up with their meals, leaving Steven with no way out and nothing to focus on.
Nothing but Andrew.
He knows that something is going to happen; it has to. Something has to happen, something has to pop the tension that’s coiling tight around his chest like a predatory snake, threatening to take every inch of breath he has. If something doesn’t happen, he’ll suffocate.
“I can’t believe it’s tomorrow,” Andrew says quietly. His knee is pressed against Steven’s again. Steven is looking at Andrew’s scraped clean plate, but in his peripheral vision, he can see Andrew tilting his head to look at him. He can feel Andrew’s gaze on him. “I thought…” Andrew pauses for a moment, and his fingers momentarily twitch on the clean white linen of the tablecloth. “I don’t know. I thought we were gonna have more time, you know?”
“Andrew…” Steven doesn’t intend on letting the word leave his mouth, but it exits all the same, hangs heavily in the air between them, as visible as a gaudy ornament on a Christmas tree. Now that it’s out in the open, he can feel himself tiptoeing towards the road he promised himself he wouldn’t go down, for both of their sakes.
But then again, would it really be so bad? Would it really be so bad if, underneath the warm-toned lighting of the restaurant, surrounded by the peaceful murmur of other patrons and faint string music, he simply confessed everything? If he finally told Andrew everything that’s been filling his mind, to some degree or another, for the past few years?
He could finally say I love you. I’ve loved you for so long. He could finally say, I think we could make a life together, or you make me feel safe, or you make me want to stay.
Or maybe he could simply look up from the table, catch Andrew’s unwavering eye, and finally kiss him, the way he’s dreamed about for literal years.
Would that be so bad?
The answer, of course, is yes.
Even though the words ache to spill from his lips, even though he is fairly certain that his feelings would be reciprocated, throwing all of that on Andrew now, the night before he leaves, feels like a special kind of disrespect. It feels completely and utterly selfish.
It feels cruel.
If there’s one thing Andrew doesn’t deserve, it’s cruelty.
“Yes?” Andrew says. His fingers have moved to Steven’s side of the table, and they’re curled into the thick fabric of the tablecloth. There’s a hopeful note in his voice, something that almost makes Steven reconsider, makes him say screw it and lean in anyways.
But he doesn’t.
Instead, he mutters, “Never mind. I forget what I was going to say.” He flicks his eyes away from Andrew’s fingers and back to his own plate, where he spears a noodle and shoves it into his mouth.
Even though the sauce is exploding with flavor, decadent and creamy, he can barely taste it over the sour taste flooding through his mouth.
Adam and Annie return moments later, and after settling their bills, they step back out into the night. The evening has grown cool, and there’s a stiff breeze that makes a chill run down Steven’s spine, breaking through the uncomfortable warmth that’s been stifling him ever since his aborted confession.
“Want a lift home?” Adam asks once they’re outside. “Or to the airport tomorrow? I can come pick you up.”
Adam’s companionship would probably beat the hell out of an Uber driver, but Steven’s decision to shake his head is twofold: he doesn’t want to drag Adam out of bed that early, and he knows that if Adam comes, so will Andrew, and Steven isn’t sure he could deal with going through yet another goodbye.
If he has to do that, he thinks his willpower might finally snap.
“I’ll be fine,” he answers. “But I’ll let you all know when I land tomorrow, alright?”
“You better,” Annie responds, pulling him into a quick hug. Adam follows up, grabs him tight and thumps him on the back hard enough to make Steven cough with surprise. After he steps away, he glances over at Andrew.
“What about you, Drew? Want a lift home?”
“That’d be great, actually. Be there in a second.” While Adam and Annie drift over towards the car, Andrew comes to stand in front of Steven. There’s no escaping his eyes now, nowhere Steven can look that won’t make it painfully obvious that he’s avoiding eye contact. Steeling himself with a deep breath, he glances from Adam and Annie to Andrew.
The breath does almost nothing to prepare himself for the depth of emotion written in Andrew’s eyes, on his face. It’s not quite sadness; if anything, it might be closer to regret, tinged with a bit of weariness.
Steven is willing to bet that he’s probably wearing a similar expression.
Without warning, Andrew pulls him into a tight hug, and Steven’s walls temporarily fall down. He fully melts against Andrew, wraps his arms around his neck and hauls him in close, until he can feel Andrew’s broad chest expanding against his own. This close, he can smell Andrew’s cologne, along with a hint of wine from dinner, and he knows that smell is going to transfer onto his own clothes, that it might very well be the first thing he smells when he wakes up in the morning.
“You can always talk to me, you know,” Andrew murmurs. The words brush warmly against the side of Steven’s neck. “Doesn’t matter what time it is. I’ll always answer, Steven.”
“I know.” The words have to traverse a lump in Steven’s throat in order to leave his mouth. “I’ll reach out if I need anything. I promise.”
“Good.”
They stay like that for a few more moments, fully wrapped around each other, Steven’s mind empty of any thought that doesn’t directly relate to how wonderful Andrew feels pressed up against him. Eventually, Andrew’s grip slackens, and Steven loosens his own arms in anticipation of stepping away.
Andrew steps back first, and as he moves away, he turns his head and brushes his lips against Steven’s temple.
It’s too gentle to be much of a kiss, but gentle or not, Steven feels it as viscerally as a punch to the jaw, and it’s all he can do to keep himself from reeling backwards, from simply dropping to the ground.
“Have a safe flight,” Andrew says, cheeks faintly tinged pink. “I’ll see you soon?”
Steven can’t speak. All he can do is nod, so overwhelmed with the urge to lurch forward and kiss Andrew that it physically hurts to restrain himself. With a slight smile, Andrew turns and walks over to Adam’s car.
It’s only after he clambers inside that Steven starts breathing again. As soon as he takes in a deep breath, warmth starts pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he refocuses all his energy on keeping that warmth from spilling over.
He’s successful up until the moment he gets through his front door.
From that point on, there’s no stopping it.
+++
He can’t see the terminals yet, but LAX is still looming before him, present in the freeway signs overhead and the sight of planes taking off, disappearing into the sky.
He glances down at where his phone is resting in his lap. It’s still too early for Andrew to be up, but Steven can’t help but play with the idea of texting him, of saying something.
But what would he say? Everything that he wants to say is too long to be distilled down to a single text message, or even a string of them. He supposes that he could just say that he’s sorry, but that isn’t nearly enough. It’s not good enough. Not good enough for Andrew, who deserves nothing less than the entire world and all the joy in it.
Maybe one day, he’ll tell Andrew. Maybe one day, the spires of New York will no longer feel like home, and he’ll come back for good to the smog and sun of LA. Maybe he’ll come back, ready to spill everything, ready and willing to tell Andrew absolutely everything.
But maybe, by that point, Andrew won’t want to hear those words. Maybe he’ll have found someone else. Maybe he’ll have simply moved on, the distance between them, despite Steven’s occasional jaunts home, having killed off whatever exists between them. Maybe the distance will have killed or, at the very least, quieted everything that Steven is feeling right now.
With one last glance at the screen, Steven pockets his phone and sighs.
As painful as the thought may be, for the sake of both his own happiness and Andrew’s, he really, truly hopes that that ends up being the case.
#standrew#mine#mine: fic#of all the prompts in my inbox this is not the one i expected to work on first#anyways here's some angst#hopefully i'll return soon with some fluff!
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RWBY Musings #60: No Place Like Home. What if…Oscar didn’t run away but left to phone home?
Okay so in light of the upcoming C9 Pre-Christmas hiatus I wanted to make this quick Pinehead musing post since I’ve received a good number of prompts from fellow FNDM fam about Oscar running away and possibly getting kidnapped by the villains. I myself made a small theory about Oscar running away to the Wall of Argus to probably jump---a hunch I now kind of regret because it adds to the list of negative possibilities that could befall our precious freckled farm boy now that he’s gone missing in Argus. That being said, this squiggle meister has come to present a new theory.
One that’s a more light-hearted and might satisfy those of you who have been itching to learn more about Oscar’s relationship with his aunt. What if…Oscar didn’t leave to run away. Blake did suggest for everyone to have some time apart from each other following the whole altercation between Jaune and Oscar. So perhaps… Oscar did just that. He left so that he can find the nearest CCT Tower in Argus to make a very touching and important phone call to his Auntie Pine back on the farm. His familial voice of reason. Let’s discuss this further.
I have this Pinehead headcanon where Oscar has a habit where whenever he’s completely stressed out, he has a tendency to bottle things up along. He always tries to take on too many things he can’t handle and when he becomes too overwhelmed by his qualms, he would always seek out his closest person for immediate consolation.
On the hero squad, the closest companion Oscar has is Ruby Rose. What if…Oscar tried to go Ruby for solace but after he overhears her mentioning to Maria of how frustrated she felt over everything and how she feels she can’t trust Ozpin again, that’s when Oscar decides to leave and go elsewhere. However, I don’t think Oscar ran away per say. Folks have pointed out that we didn’t get to see Oscar leave. That we didn’t get to see him back his things. That’s because I’m starting to think that Oscar didn’t run. I’m curious to know if his belongings are still intact in his room.
Then again, Oscar didn’t have much stuff. All he had was his backpack and the Oz-cane. So even if Oscar was just going for a simple stroll around town, he’d probably grab his bag because it’s all he had. So regardless, I think Oscar still took his backpack because that’s basically all that he owns so of course he’ll take it with him.
As I’ve said before, Oscar doesn’t like seeing Ruby stressed. So Oscar probably went to talk to Ruby but after hearing how she’s feeling, he decided to not burden her down more with his own troubles. So what does he do? He leaves to go seek consult from someone else, somewhere else.
Do you know what I would actually REALLY love to see? What if…Oscar just went to find the nearest communication tower in Argus. Why? So that he can make a very important phone call home to someone special. His dear ole Auntie Pine.
My hunch is that back home, Oscar probably shared a very close bond with his aunt. After all, she seemed to be the only family he had when he was introduced in V4 but their small exchange back then led me to believe that they were quite close. Back home, Auntie Pine was probably Oscar’s counsellor. The one person he’s always turned to ; more so than his parents, whenever he felt like his world was crumbling underneath his feet and her warm support was what always managed to get the farm boy back on his feet.
We all have that one person in our lives---be it friend or family that we can always go to for advice on anything and we trust that person’s word the most because since that person knows us best, they’re always able to give advice best tailored to suit our emotional needs and help us see the best answer to our problems. For Oscar, I feel like that person was his Auntie Pine.
I’d love it if Oscar left just to go call his aunt back home because with everything that transpired with his since he left home, he really needed to talk to her. I’d love to think that Oscar is the stubborn type who’d always try to handle things on his own but when things are too much for him, he’s always go to Auntie Pine. I’d love to think that Oscar left home on good terms with his Auntie Pine. Though we never got to see him actually say goodbye to her or phone her back home before leaving for Argus, I’d love to think that Oscar still kept in touch with Auntie Pine just to update her on how he’s doing. After all, she’s his family. And I’d love to think that Oscar was very close with his family because they were only people he knew for most of his life.
I’d love it if as a kid, Oscar had a habit of always running to his aunt whenever he was feeling pressured about a problem he was having. I’d like to think that Oscar shared a close bond to his aunt that’s been there since he was a little boy and even as a teenager, that part about him hasn’t changed. I’d like to think that Auntie Pine had a nickname for Oscar that she called him back home. My theory is that Oscar’s pet name back on the farm was something like ‘sugar bean’ or to put it more fittingly,‘Tornado Oscar’ (just to have that lil tie in to the Wizard of Oz) to refer to the fact that he always would wait until his problems become too much for him and when the pressures rise, he’d just leave them to billow around him before finally coming to his auntie to quell the storm.
I’d love it if Oscar’s aunt’s name is Dorothy. I know some fans would like for her to be Em but I personally like Dorothy Pine or Aunt Do, as Oscar might call her. Either can work.
I’d like to believe that one of Oscar’s flaws, apart from his stubbornness, is his habit of taking on things that are far out of his control and allowing them to overwhelm him to a tipping point. He has to learn to call off the storm before allowing it to overtake him completely. I’d like to think it’s a trait he’s always had since he was a little boy growing up in the Anima farmlands and I can imagine Auntie Pine commenting and saying something like that to Oscar if he called her. That despite being away from home, Oscar still hasn’t changed. He’s still the same Oscar who’d always try to take on things that he’s still too young to handle and would always confide in his aunt whenever he’s hurt.
I want to see Oscar phone home because I think this is a great way for us to finally see Auntie Pine. Like maybe there’s a CCT in Argus that Oscar wants to use to patch himself to his aunt back home. It’s my understanding that the CCT’s only don’t work for communication between kingdoms. But if it’s within the same continent it should be fine, right? Oscar should be able to call home to his aunt and get to speak to her---hear her voice. Maybe even see her face after a month apart.
I really want Oscar to see his aunt. It’s something I’ve wanted to see since the start of V6. If the story has shifted in Oscar’s favour, you can’t develop him without letting us meet his family. See his aunt. I’ll admit I’d be quite disappointed this Oscar Missing segment doesn’t lead into us finally meeting his aunt and seeing more of their relationship.
I’d love to think that Auntie Pine was the kind of aunt who was probably surprisingly complacent with Oscar leaving home. Though she had her worries as any parental guardian would have, however she still allowed Oscar to leave because at 14 years old, she understood that Oscar was starting to grow up. And by Auntie Pine’s ole school understanding, a part of becoming an adult is making your own decisions and leaving home to venture to newer territories. Auntie Pine understood that if Oscar was to become a man and learn to stand on his own two feet, she couldn’t coddle him.
She had to allow him to leave the nest and fly to somewhere over the rainbow, way up high.
I’d like to think that Auntie Pine was quite proud to hear that Oscar was going to Haven to become a huntsman. Though Oscar probably never told her the whole truth for obvious reasons, I’d love it if Oscar left things on good terms with his aunt. This would make a call home even more impactful especially for Oscar’s development.
Imagine…Oscar finding his way to the nearest Argus CCT. Calling his aunt and the minute she answers and he sees her face and/or hears her voice for the first time in a month, Oscar just breaks down completely and unloads everything on his aunt. Oscar running away to go phone home to his aunt because she was his counsellor---his person, is something I want to see.
Like him being strong this whole time but the instant his sees and/or hears his aunt, he just lets that bravado all go and doesn’t even bother trying to be strong anymore. He lets himself fall apart in front of his aunt because one) he knows even if he tried to be strong, Auntie Pine will just see right through it and call him out on it anyways and two) after everything Oscar has been through these past few episodes, I doubt that ‘feigning strength’ is something he’d want to do anymore. At least, not in front of his aunt. The one person in all of Remnant who knew him, as Oscar Pine, best.
And what I like about this possibility is that we can get Auntie Pine providing Oscar with the advice he needs to hear. Like picture…Auntie Pine knowing her nephew so well that without even needing to know the full story, she immediately the real problem. She understands that even if Oscar calls her in tears regarding his frustrations of being a huntsman, she knows that despite this, Oscar isn’t ready to give up.
After all, according to Auntie Pine, the Pines are strong people. Oscar’s parents were strong. Auntie Pine is strong and Oscar has that same strength running through his veins because it’s in his blood. Auntie Pine knows Oscar well enough to know that if he was ready to stop being a huntsman, he would have left a long time ago and returned home without even telling her.
I’d like to think that when Oscar is ready to quit something---to say he’s had enough; he’d just do it without hesitation. But from the time it’s something he believes in and he’s not ready to give up, he always comes to his aunt so that she can renew his strength to keep moving. It’s a trait he’s always had as a boy and that part about him hasn’t changed.
I really want Oscar to call home. Forget every hunch I had about Oscar running away. This is the one I want to see come true in the canon!
I want Oscar Pine to find his way to the nearest CCT in Argus to phone home to his Auntie Pine because he misses her and misses home but he doesn’t want to quit being a huntsman and leave the heroes. He just wants to hear his aunt’s voice again and be reminded through her of his own strength. Of his own personality. Of his own life. That he is Oscar Pine.
Everyone keeps treating Oscar like he’s just Ozpin or another Ozpin in the making. Like he’s not even his own person anymore. So if Oscar is feeling that way, the best person to go to is someone who knew him best from his old life. He needs someone to remind him that he’s still very much Oscar Pine and the only person who can provide him with that validation is his family. Not the heroes. Not even Ruby Rose. But his family. His Auntie Pine.
I want this so much! And what would a cool tie in is if the Argus CCT is located in the same area as the Great Wall of Argus. So even if Oscar finishes talking to his aunt, he can always go up there and enjoy the view of the city, just to clear his head some more and really let his aunt’s words sink in before going back to everyone.
NO kidnapping. NO running into Neo or Cinder or Watts or Tyrian or Hazel or Tom, Dick, Harry, Jane…NO!
If this is Oscar’s time. His development. If this is his arc, then I want it to go undisturbed.
I want the CRWBY to dedicate two episodes to Oscar. Just as how V6 C3 and C4 went Ozpin. I want C9 and 10 to go to Oscar.
How Squiggles Thinks the Next Episodes Will Be:
I want C9 to be one flashback episode where the group split up into two teams of four to cover more ground searching for Oscar in Argus. The teams are as followed: Jaune, Blake, Ruby and Weiss form one team while and Ren, Nora, Yang and Maria form another.
Throughout the episode, we get to see Oscar-centric memories from Mistral from the perspective of Team RNJR since they were the four who spent more time in Oscar’s company before the arrival of the rest of the heroes. Like imagine Team RNJR Scooby-Doo-ing their way through this by recalling their memories of times they each individually spent with Oscar to sort of piece together where they think he would go in Argus.
So picture C9 featuring four Oscar-centric memories from the times he spent with Ren, Jaune, Nora and finally Ruby is last and her memory with Oscar is actually one taken before the Argus departure when he was still in recovery. By the end of C9, the group will most definitely figure out where Oscar would go through Ruby’s memory. However something will happen for Ruby to not go. Like in the midst of their search, Ruby gets a weird call from Qrow and has to leave to check it out. So in her place, the others went ahead and they find Oscar standing alone on the Wall of Argus looking out at the sunrise. His back is turned as his attention is focused on the sky. Maybe there’s even a rainbow in the sky. I dunno. But the minute someone says his name, he looks around and that’s how the episode ends.
In C10, that’s when we’ll get the full Oscar-centric backstory episode where we get to see Oscar’s lone venture through Argus. We get to see the search story from Oscar’s perspective as he walks through Argus trying to find the nearest CCT tower and throughout the episode, it cuts goes back and forth between the present and more flashbacks but this time it’s from Oscar’s past home with his Auntie Pine. While I doubt we’ll actually learn anything about Oscar’s parents other than confirming them to be deceased and seeing their faces through a family portrait, I feel like if we’re going to get Oscar’s past, it’s going to focus on his relationship with his aunt the most. I feel like this can confirm Oscar sharing a close bond with Auntie Pine. After all, she was the only one introduced in his story back in V4 so she must be the most important family he has.
So part of the episode is going through flashbacks of Oscar’s time with Auntie Pine leading up to the moment before he left home. You know that missing chunk of time from V4 that fans complained about not seeing Oscar’s whole thought process before finally coming to the decision to leave home. I feel like that’s what’s going to be focused in that Oscar flashback.
We’re going to see the crowning moment that made Oscar finally give into Ozpin’s words and leave home. We’ll also get to see him say goodbye to his Aunt. That will be the final memory before we cut to Oscar reaching the CCT and phoning home to call his aunt for advice.
Then the last bit of the episode will fast-forward to everyone minus Ruby finding Oscar and talking to him and having their apologies or whatever. We get to see Jaune’s apology.
The reason why I want to get some Oscar memories with Jaune is because I personally would love to know of any personal interactions Jaune had with Oscar. Same for Ren and Nora. It can definitely help solidify the idea of Oscar joining up with JNR and reforming Team JNPR. And I’d love to think that Jaune is another person Oscar secretly admires and looks up to among the heroes ever since the time Ruby pulled the two together back in V5 C4.
Picture…Jaune, by the finale of V6, approaching Oscar and saying to him:
“From the beginning, you never had a place on this team. You were introduced to us as Professor Ozpin and for the most part that’s how some; most of us saw you. How I saw you. Just another version of Ozpin. But, I see more now that you’re not another Ozpin. You’re more than that. The two of you may share a body but you, Oscar are your own person.
I…don’t know if I’ll ever be able to put fully trust Ozpin again if he ever comes back. However, I would like to think that I can you. But you still don’t have a place on our team. Which is why I--- We would like to offer you one.”
I’d love it if we got a scene like during the finale after everything has simmered down and the group are prepared to depart for Atlas. I’d love it if by the end of V6, Oscar not only has his growth but he’d also fully integrated himself with the heroes and he did it without Ozpin’s intervention. Sorry to all the Ozpinheads but…I personally don’t think Ozpin is going to come back by the end of V6.
I feel like Ozpin’s departure is a direr issue that could be extended to another volume. Besides I would really like it if the final episodes of this volume just focused primarily on Oscar’s development and him coming into his own strength. Awakening his own power. Creating his own spot on the team and really becoming his own person.
Up until this point, Oscar has depended solely on Ozpin to give him an identity with the heroes but I want this volume to just be Oscar finding his own place outside of Ozpin.
This is why I don’t think Ozpin will return and quite frankly, I don’t want him to. Nothing against Ozpin but I’m not ready for him to come back and I don’t think any of the actual heroes are either. Besides order for Oz to return, I strongly believe that Oscar will be the one to bring him back. I think only Oscar has that power and I want that to fall under his story.
Bringing Oz back home and mending the bonds he has with everyone. That’s a plot I can see happening down the line. However for now, for just V6 and its final five episodes; let it just be all about Oscar. PLEASE!
So to conclude:
I wasn’t kidding when I said it’s Oscar’s time to shine and when it happens, his light is going to shine brighter than a supernova. If Yang Xiao Long burns like gold then Oscar Pine will shine like gold.
The true golden boy.
P.S. If Oscar Pine doesn’t get his own character song after this volume, I will riot! Just saying.
More Squiggles’ RWBY Content
LittleMissSquiggles (2018)
#rwby#oscar pine#ruby rose#jaune arc#team jnr#rwby volume 6 spoilers#rwby volume 6 theories#rwby theories#rwby musings
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Love Me Apocalyptic: Part Two
Author: eternityunicorn
Genre: Romance/Drama/AU
Pairing: Elijah Mikealson x OC
Warnings: Violance, Smut (*Smut chapters marked +18)
Summary: AU of an AU: Elijah Mikaelson and Eternity had been lovers centuries ago. Betrayed, he had thought that he would never see her again. However, in present time, she has returned with a purpose, intertwining their paths once more. Elijah hates Eternity for the past, but finds his addiction to her is still as profound as it had been before and he cannot fight it, leaving him in a complicated relationship with his former lady - in an apocalyptic love.
NOTE: OC and original elements are from my up and coming novel series!
AUTHOR’S COMMENTARY: This chapter is based off of TO Season 2, Episode 17 as before. Most of this chapter remains unchanged from it’s ‘Love is Madness’ incarnation, but there are some modifications that have been made to reflect the new version of this story.
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There was an awkward tension in the air as the guests of Josephine LaRue stood around waiting for the elderly witch to make an appearance. Two of the women present, Hayley and Gia, and Elijah all looked at each other with an unbearable uncomfortableness that was evident upon each face. The third female, Eternity herself, looked on with subtle amusement at the situation. Nobody spoke, while the two vampires and the female hybrid only fidgeted and smiled politely whenever their eyes met another’s.
Elijah had to wonder just how in the hell had he gotten here, standing in a room with not one ex, but two, and his current flame.
Hayley stood next to him with her arms folded across her chest and she danced on her feet slightly from the tension in the air. This was because they used to be lovers, but she had moved on with Niklaus ages ago for the sake of Hope, the very reason why he had been drunk that rainy night at Rousseau’s he continued to attempt forgetting, something he had been doing ever since.
Yet, the relationship between Hayley and him hadn’t been a clean break as there were still some left over feelings from their own love affair that made one on one interactions painfully awkward. Because of the remnant of mutual romantic feelings, Elijah had chosen to move out of the Mikaelson compound, as to not cause issues with the relationship between Niklaus and Hayley.
Then there was his current lover, Gia, a vampire like himself, of whom he also mentored as she was new to the vampire world. She was a sweet young woman, with whom he found great enjoyment with, despite the fact he knew for certain that their romance wasn’t the type to last forever. It would one day fizzle and die one way or another, but for now, he was happy with his beautiful violinist, content to enjoy whatever time they had together.
Although if he were completely honest, Gia was simply a distraction. Someone to take his mind away from the shimmering otherworldly beauty that plagued his thoughts at every turn.
Speaking of which, his lover from the distant past, was one that he had thought he’d never see again, up until that faithful night in the rain not all that long ago. Eternity was was an ethereal beauty from beyond the stars, a powerful immortal unlike anyone he had ever met before or would ever again. She currently stood across from Gia, watching the others quietly with a small amused grin upon her lips.
He remembered those lips well. Her rose pink lips were plush and soft to the touch. Elijah could still feel them upon his own so profoundly that it was as if he was still kissing her.
Eternity was a pale goddess with long, flowing white hair that rippled like ocean waves all around her and sapphire eyes that held a wisdom that nobody on Earth possessed. The feeling of her silky tresses still lingered upon Elijah’s fingertips. Her eyes remained ever haunting, especially if he dared to close his eyes.
Her face was childlike - youthful despite her three thousand years of life. She was small, smaller than both Hayley and Gia, but she was certainly stronger, more powerful than all of them put together - and then some. Her small, innocent form was just a front for the deadly otherworldly being she truly was.
Elijah had met Eternity a hundred and a half years ago by chance, after she had confronted him in the middle of a brutal feeding with her yumi bow pointed right at him. She had been ready to kill him to save the innocent person he feasted upon. However, for whatever reason, she had spared him in the end, having hesitated instead of immediately striking his down per protocol.
From there, they had a few more by chance meetings, filled with slight flirtatious banter, that soon became on purpose encounters that were also amorous in nature. Not long after that, they had become lovers.
When they had begun having sex back then, Elijah had discovered that her blood could sustain his vampire need to feed, sparing innocent lives in the process. He could feed upon her as he pleased without killing her, a fact that momentarily triggered his memories of that rainy night on that rooftop.
Shaking them off with an inward curse, he returned to the distant past, remembering that he had been grateful for this gift she had given him. He had found it a blessing as he detested the feeding on the innocent part of who he was as a vampire. Her blood sharing had also brought them even closer, because it displayed the amount of love and trust she had for him.
However, not all had been well in paradise. There had been a source of contention between them where Elijah’s chaotic brothers, Niklaus and Kol, wee concerned. They continued to kill the innocent indiscriminately, despite the immortal queen’s presence in their lives, and Eternity had shown patience when Elijah had promised her that he’d get them to stop. In turn, she had promised to stay her hand in killing them, should she have to take action, after he had pleaded with her to not to do so. Yet, chance after chance, attempt after attempt, his brothers refused to cease, having enjoyed the kill too much to give it up, even when faced with Eternity’s wrath.
His brothers were brave souls indeed...or simply foolish and bloodthirsty monsters.
Eventually, Eternity had lost patience with his siblings and after a furious argument with Elijah, she went after his brothers with the intention of killing them, going against her promise to find another way. It was an utter act of betrayal to their love, this breaking of vows made.
The only reason why his brothers were still alive was because he had intervened on their behalf, using Eternity’s love for him to his advantage. She couldn’t kill him, she didn’t have the strength for it, despite having threatened to do so if she must. In the end, Niklaus and Kol had managed to escape, and Elijah’s love affair with the immortal beauty had immediately ended as a result.
Until that night he purposefully avoided remembering, Elijah hadn’t expected to see her ever again, as she was the great Universal Queen from the cosmos and surely had responsibilities elsewhere, on some other world in the void of space. He had been certain that those duties would keep her away, giving him the freedom to move on with his life.
It seemed that had been too much of an assumption as she had appeared the next day, after their... encounter, at the compound with a premonition of a terrible evil coming, one that would seek Niklaus and Hayley’s young daughter Hope. Apparently this was what she had been trying to tell him at the bar the night before, but he had ignored in favor of...other pursuits.
Despite the past, Eternity had been willing to help his brother, apparently seeing the change having his daughter in his life had caused. The chaotic beast had been tempered by his great love for his child and the child’s mother. And so here they were together again, fighting on the same side - fighting for his family.
Yet, though he had agreed to work with Eternity to protect Hope, Elijah was still hurt from her betrayal unto him and his family, even though her betrayal had happened so long ago. It had gutted him how ready she had been to throw away their love, choosing her duty over her heart. He was angry, bitter, and mistrusting of the ethereal woman over the past, but it seemed his attraction to her was as profound as ever before, if that unmentionable night was any indication.
The Original found he was greatly conflicted when faced with Eternity’s reentry into his life. He hated her, her loved her; he wanted nothing of her, he wanted everything; he wanted to resist her, he wanted to fuck her until she begged him to stop.
As a result of this conflict, Elijah was often hostile toward her in that quiet, cold, distant way of his. He avoided Eternity as often as he could, but whenever they were forced together as they were now, he was as distant and clinical as possible. She returned his crudity with her own, in the form of biting words and amusements in his failings of his misery.
To say that the tension between them was great was an understatement, made even more so in this current moment when faced with the two other women he cared greatly for. Not that he was admitting he still cared for Eternity. He stubbornly refused to give such a possibility a single consideration. He would not be so foolish as to give his heart back to her, a second time.
Turning his thoughts away from Eternity before they revealed to him things he didn’t want to know, Elijah recalled the tension that was between him and Hayley caused by Gia’s presence, due to those unresolved romantic feelings they had for each other, despite moving on to other people.
It was a bit irritating really as Hayley had married Niklaus, sworn her whole heart to him, yet continued to be a jealous ex while he still pined for the female hybrid, to some degree. Though he understood his feelings were simply part of the moving on process and soon, his feelings would dissolve into nothing more than familial love - or so he hoped.
In the meantime, it seemed that this day was to be a never ending circle of tense awkwardness due to his romantic relationships past and present.
Elijah caught Eternity grinning at him knowingly, as she was finding the awkwardness unsurprisingly amusing it would seem. He watched her with a great interest that he attempted to conceal beneath a mask of cool indifference, as she turned from him and floated across the room. She moved fluidly with her white floor length lacy gown trailing behind her regaling and her rippling white hair moving like ocean waves as she went to stand at the window. Despite his efforts to remain neutral, he found he couldn’t take his wondering eyes off the ethereally shimmering woman, which earned him meaningful and jealous looks from both Hayley and Gia.
“...I’m going to go see if I can find Josephine,” the latter woman finally said to excuse herself from the tense atmosphere she had found herself in - along with the rest of them, of course.
Once she was gone, Hayley cleared her throat and once more gave Elijah a meaningful look, this time in regards to Gia. “Well, now I see why you didn’t answer my calls,” she said as she moved to sit in one of the available chairs. “Did she have to come with us?”
Elijah sensed the jealousy in her voice, but tried to ignore it as he sat down next to her in the other available chair, and replied, “Josephine LaRue can be rather recalcitrant. She is, however, enamored with Gia's musical prowess and cavalier spirit.”
“Huh. So, the baby vamp is now the Witch Whisperer?” The female hybrid said, to which he smiled and sighed slightly at her jealous tone. “I’m just so glad you found someone so...muti-talented to spend your time with.”
He rolled his eyes and looked at Hayley, “What exactly do you want from me? You made your choice.”
She looked away for a moment and was about to respond when Gia returned with Josephine in tow.
Immediately, the tension was broken with the old witch’s presence, a great relief to all in the room.
Elijah was on his feet and moved to greet her, “Madame LaRue.”
“Mr. Mikaelson,” Josephine replied warmly.
He kissed her cheeks in greeting, before the elderly woman moved to settle down in her favorite armchair and asked him, “Have you come to impress me once more with young Gia’s rare talents?” Then she noticed Hayley standing in the doorway with a scowl upon her lips and her arms folded tightly across her chest, “What, pray tell, does this one do?”
Elijah replied, “This one is family.”
Hayley smiled tightly at the Madame in response to his words.
“But we have come to ask a favor,” he finished.
“And what favor would that be, Mr. Mikaelson?” Madame LaRue asked.
It was here that Eternity, whom had stood completely silent at the window, turned gracefully to the others in the room and spoke in his place. “We have come for information, Madame,” she said to the old witch gently. “I have sensed a great evil to descend upon this world, one that will seek the unique miracle child of the immortal hybrid and his mate. It could pose a terrible threat to not only the child, but this world. Mr. Mikealson suggested that I come and speak with you about it, as you are one of the wisest of your people, to shed some light on this earthly foe to come.”
Madame LaRue did not immediately speak upon seeing the ethereal beauty as she came over to stand amongst them. The witch looked adorably awestruck by her, having not expected someone of Eternity’s caliper to be in her home. Her pale blue eyes were wide and her wrinkled mouth was agape as she floundered before the queen.
Elijah caught Hayley’s irritated huffing and rolling of her eyes beside him at the sight, while Gia simply smiled politely and gave no indication she was disturbed or annoyed by Eternity.
“It is you,” murmured Madame LaRue eventually, barely audible. “You’re -.”
“I am,” Eternity interjected with a small smile and a nod.
“How is this even possible?” Josephine whispered, looking from her to Elijah, to Hayley, and finally to Gia.
The immortal queen turned to flash Elijah a grin, before she turned back to the stunned witch and said, “Let’s just say, someone knows people in high places.”
The witch clambered out of her chair and moved to curtsy, a rather awkward sight as she couldn’t really perform it completely due to her brittle old state; though she tried her hardest. “Your Majesty,” she said as she bowed her head to her, while her whole body shook with effort.
It was immediate that Eternity was grabbing hold of Madame LaRue gently in her two hands, speaking softly to her, “Don’t do that. It is unnecessary. Please, sit back down, my dear.”
The ethereal woman aided the old witch in returning to her chair. Once Josephine was comfortable, the queen fluidly sat down before the other woman, with her legs tucked underneath her and her hands folded neatly in her lap.
Elijah exchanged glances with Hayley and Gia, each having curious expressions etched upon their faces at the queen’s choice to sit on the floor, before they sat down in their own chairs.
“What is it that has brought you to my door, Your Majesty?” Madame LaRue asked Eternity quietly, still in a state of shock by her presence.
The queen smiled kindly, as she said, “I need you to tell me what you know of a creature that calls itself the Hollow.”
To Be Continued....
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Tag List: @elejah-wonderland @mikaelson-trash @dendrite-lover @inmylifeilovedthemall @elejahforever @xanderling @hawaiianohana15 @missnmikealson @phoenix-potter-bailey @lolelijahishot @x-memi12 @iamaquarius2 @echosnowflake666 @scarlettsky0998 @zillahvathek @elijahandkollover @mikaelsonwetdreams
#elijah mikaelson#daniel gillies#original character#elijah x eternity#romance#drama#alternate universe#the originals#the originals fanfiction#the vampire diaries#the vampire diaries fanfiction
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Spooksville #8: The Little People
alternate title: Pan’s Realm
Pocket Books, 1996
117 pages, 13 chapters + epilogue
ISBN 0-671-55067-5
LOC: CPB Box no. 362 vol. 19
OCLC: 34608023
Released May 1, 1996 (per B&N)
Leprechauns, dwarfs, and fairies have moved into Spooksville, in far greater numbers than the Spook Squad would have ever expected. In investigating, they find Pan, the god of the wild, who has been ejected from his kingdom, along with all his subjects, in the wake of a bad gambling outcome with an evil wizard. Can the kids help Pan win back his kingdom? (Spoiler: yes.)
Here's a rollicking adventure story once again! Also: this is the first Pike book that's had a different title in another English-speaking territory, as far as I know. I don't pretend to be an expert on British culture, but I have to assume the fugly leprechaun on the cover with the title The Little People was offensive. (Correction: this one WAS released as The Little People in both territories. I don’t actually know when it became Pan’s Realm ... maybe when the books got republished alongside the TV series? There’s not an episode that coincides directly with this story, as far as I can tell, though.)
It is a leprechaun that they first encounter, though, on a picnic in the woods. Cindy is bringing out her signature chocolate cake when a little green man leaps out of nowhere and snatches it out of her hands. They go chasing after him, and another one grabs one of Watch's watches. They don't want to lose anything else, so they head back ... only to find that their blanket is gone, and their basket is gone, and their bikes are gone. So now the kids are pissed, right, and they're gonna find this little shit.
They forge farther through the woods, and just when they think they couldn't get any more lost they happen upon a cave. This cave is obviously constructed, with cut stone and smooth walls. A little ways in, there's a whole company of dwarfs (which is the spelling Pike chose, don't @ me) digging out more tunnels. The oldest dwarf directs the kids farther along, and again just when they think they're totally lost the tunnel opens to a different section of the woods.
There's a palace made of growing grasses and leaves, with a courtyard and a fountain, and so the kids stop to drink. But all of a sudden this hooded figure sweeps out of the palace and demands to know why they are stealing her water. It's a fairy, it turns out, and she's not happy at all that the kids think she's a human. In fact, she's so unhappy that she curses them invisible and insubstantial. They stumble around for a while, unable to find each other until all of a sudden Adam gets a flash of some eyes. Watch's eyes, actually, as the sunlight refracts through his glasses onto his face. They figure that maybe all they have to do to break the curse is get sunlight reflected onto them, so they find the right angle on the lip of the fountain and hey presto, they're visible physicals again.
This still doesn't explain where all these little people are coming from. So the kids keep walking until they stumble upon an onocentaur. It's Pan, in fact, and he's all depressed because he's lost his kingdom. This evil wizard came along with a bag of treasures and a coin, and in a challenge of guessing the flip Pan loses twenty tosses in a row to lose everything. Well, almost — the wizard, in his generosity, let Pan keep a crystal necklace. In fact, this was the last thing Pan won, and after he put it on he suddenly started losing. So on his way out of the kingdom, he tossed it aside, not wanting anything to remind him of his failure.
Obviously there's a tricky curse going on, right? The kids want to help Pan get his kingdom back, at least partly so they won't lose any more cakes to leprechauns. So they pass through the magical portal (this time it's walking backwards around an isolated pine tree seven times) and make their way up to the castle. Only before they can find it, they're set upon by the wizard's guards, who shoot Watch in the leg. Let me restate that: a CHILD takes an ARROW in the LEG in this story. Pan pulls it out and treats it, but Watch isn't walking any further any time soon. So Cindy stays with him while the others continue looking for the necklace, this time staying off the path.
It's pretty much where Pan remembered discarding it. So Adam wants to test it out. He puts on the necklace and then steps out onto the path, and all of a sudden there's a whole bunch of guards bearing down on him. But Pan and Sally don't see them. And it's just as Adam suspected: the necklace makes you think you saw the opposite of what you wanted. The way the coin toss was rigged, only Pan and the wizard could see it when it landed, so when Pan called out the result it was the opposite of what he hoped for; that is, the opposite of his call that would have won him a prize.
And now Pan is pissed, and nothing will stop him storming the castle. Only the wizard king isn't impressed. They try to reason with him, and he flat denies any wrongdoing, and rebanishes Pan with his stupid necklace. As for Sally and Adam, though: they should stick around for dinner. But when the wizard turns them into chickens, they realize they'll be the main course.
Watch and Cindy are starting to get worried. However, luck shines their way for a second here: they meet another fairy, but this one is only a kid. She wants to help Pan, and figures that she'll start by helping his human ... well, helpers. So she heals Watch's wound, she feeds them dinner, and then they set off toward the castle. Only Pan is already dejectedly trudging back from it, the necklace on again, sorry that he's doomed Adam and Sally to a horrible fate. Watch realizes that the necklace is the one they've discussed, and wants to mess around with it a little bit. He might have a plan to use it to trick the wizard into betting the kingdom back.
They finesse their way back to the throne room, and Watch puts up his gambling collateral: a calculator and a lighter. It's enough to intrigue the wizard, so he agrees to a wager: his hat for the calculator. Watch wants him to wear the necklace, though, while he makes the bets. It shouldn't be a problem, right, because there's nothing special about the necklace? So the wizard enlists a dwarf to call what the coin shows every time, knowing full well how the necklace works. But the coin toss goes to Watch anyway. Double or nothing? Watch now wants his friends set free, and wins again. This time, he bets for the castle and wins AGAIN. One more double or nothing, for the whole kingdom? The wizard just can't resist: he's a degenerate gambler and has to win at least one. But he doesn't. And Pan promises, now that he's king again, he'll be able to get the kids' possessions back, if not the cake.
How did Watch do this? It turns out that the order of the crystals on the necklace is what made it work — when he changed them around, it didn't have any effect. The wizard didn't notice that, though, and he wasn't meant to; it was meant to serve as a distraction so he wouldn't notice the invisible fairy flipping the coin to Watch's favored side at the last minute. Except: the fairy couldn't get her invisibility to work. Watch had lucked out the whole time.
Aside from the fairy curse toward the beginning, this story stays nice and tight. I don't fully understand why they didn't call it Pan's Realm from the very beginning, though: it makes way more sense as a title. Maybe it was required to put that ugly-ass green guy on the front, you know, for kids.
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